[Well well well. It seemed he didn't entirely lack a spine after all.
Quistis stopped walking when he started speaking in a less... passive way, looking back at him and letting him speak his piece. The comment about being hardhearted washed over her; it wasn't as if people hadn't said that about her in the past. Recently, too. She knew she still needed a little practice, but she also knew she wasn't hardhearted - simply not interested in letting people get away with no effort.
So she watched him as she spoke, her expression gradually becoming... less annoyed. And when she spoke, it was was clear she wasn't just saying everything that came to mind the way she had been before. She sounded much more normal, to anyone who knew her.] I call it childish to go out somewhere people aren't likely to find you to brood over something that you, personally, didn't want to do. [She paused for just a moment, that he probably didn't like, before continuing.] I call it less childish to take on the responsibility of something that you, personally, didn't want to do, but was still perpetuated by something controlling your body.
[See there, Cecil? She knows it wasn't you. It sounds (and it really is) like Quistis just doesn't like the way you're basically hiding and cringing. But as she goes on she gets more and more calmed down and rational.] I don't think you need forgiveness. That ...experiment changed a lot of people, even some I know, into something they very much weren't. Mostly physically - your change seems to be entirely emotional. [And now she sighs and settles down on the grass herself, legs tucked carefully up underneath her.] What I am saying, is that just waiting for people to forgive you doesn't seem like it will help you much - because however many do, you need to forgive yourself as well, or it's meaningless. Or maybe accept that it wasn't you doing all those things - I have to admit, I like the fact that I don't have to defend myself from this you.
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Quistis stopped walking when he started speaking in a less... passive way, looking back at him and letting him speak his piece. The comment about being hardhearted washed over her; it wasn't as if people hadn't said that about her in the past. Recently, too. She knew she still needed a little practice, but she also knew she wasn't hardhearted - simply not interested in letting people get away with no effort.
So she watched him as she spoke, her expression gradually becoming... less annoyed. And when she spoke, it was was clear she wasn't just saying everything that came to mind the way she had been before. She sounded much more normal, to anyone who knew her.] I call it childish to go out somewhere people aren't likely to find you to brood over something that you, personally, didn't want to do. [She paused for just a moment, that he probably didn't like, before continuing.] I call it less childish to take on the responsibility of something that you, personally, didn't want to do, but was still perpetuated by something controlling your body.
[See there, Cecil? She knows it wasn't you. It sounds (and it really is) like Quistis just doesn't like the way you're basically hiding and cringing. But as she goes on she gets more and more calmed down and rational.] I don't think you need forgiveness. That ...experiment changed a lot of people, even some I know, into something they very much weren't. Mostly physically - your change seems to be entirely emotional. [And now she sighs and settles down on the grass herself, legs tucked carefully up underneath her.] What I am saying, is that just waiting for people to forgive you doesn't seem like it will help you much - because however many do, you need to forgive yourself as well, or it's meaningless. Or maybe accept that it wasn't you doing all those things - I have to admit, I like the fact that I don't have to defend myself from this you.