[Is this a joke. First Tifa. Now Dohalim. Is there something on her that implies she ought to be doing any such thing? Why does he treat her like that? 'Lady Beatrix.' Dancing. Thinking she's some kind of admirable figure back home instead of the frighteningly cold woman that she's tried to paint herself as here.
The inside turmoil is real. Zidane's voice always lingers in her head. Find herself. Find the Beatrix beneath the title. Even if she does, even if she knows of the deep kindness that runs in her, why show that to anyone else? What would be the point?
The uncertainty in her expression lasts moments before she shoves it aside. Of all the things she can let him see, that isn't one of them, and there's no shortage of things she means to hide.]
I cannot help but think you are mocking me, Dohalim.
[He isn't. She can think it all she wants, but he's not the sort to act like that. It's so much easier when she's trading blows with him than these kinds of moments where she doesn't know how to converse. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, drawing her gaze aside as she, in the most glacial pace, extends her hand warily. She's a military general. How is it that this mere man is more disconcerting than staring death in the face?]
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The inside turmoil is real. Zidane's voice always lingers in her head. Find herself. Find the Beatrix beneath the title. Even if she does, even if she knows of the deep kindness that runs in her, why show that to anyone else? What would be the point?
The uncertainty in her expression lasts moments before she shoves it aside. Of all the things she can let him see, that isn't one of them, and there's no shortage of things she means to hide.]
I cannot help but think you are mocking me, Dohalim.
[He isn't. She can think it all she wants, but he's not the sort to act like that. It's so much easier when she's trading blows with him than these kinds of moments where she doesn't know how to converse. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, drawing her gaze aside as she, in the most glacial pace, extends her hand warily. She's a military general. How is it that this mere man is more disconcerting than staring death in the face?]