Soleil
Soleil doesn't mean to hurt him the way she clearly does, and her teeth pluck and worry at her bottom lip in clear regret and self-consciousness. Their grip on each other never wavers, and it's the only thing that gives her the courage to explain herself. That, and his vehement reminder of his love and pride - because she has never doubted that, never, but -
"Because everyone in Halo is given some sort of expectation to live up to," her voice wobbles unfairly as she leans her cheek into his hand pitifully. "The Seawrights, the Olsons, the Hales. And some of the kids used to complain about that because they didn't want to do what their family had always done but..." Soleil's face wrinkles, half-dried tears sticky and uncomfortable as she tries to search for why this worry lingers in her head when half the Natural Halovians in her graduating class would have killed for the freedom her dad provides her.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks about me. I care what you think. I mean - I care if you had - have? - dreams for me, or goals, and I'm not meeting them." It's a weight that her peers had dreaded, raised with it already chained to their necks, but Soleil can't help but seek to understand. Would she even want it if she felt it? If he says he really did have a life in mind for her will her wondering become dread? Is she just craving some sort of tangible history and familial torch to carry? Something that the destruction of their home world and the loss of her mothers had taken from her?
Laying her hand over his, she gives him a sad smile. "I know you love me dad," she whispers, certain as the sun. Diana whines softly, head still in her lap. "I love that you let me be me. It's just so different from everyone else that it's hard not to feel like we're the ones doing things wrong." Her gold eyes - his eyes - fall away toward Diana, face crumpling with a rare touch of grief. "It feels like all of us are just floating in space without a family tradition, or role, or history here. Is it normal to not be bothered by that?" To be okay with having never led a region, or been part of a council, or been uplifted as a demigod or a war hero? Her father has never seemed unhappy or unfulfilled without the sort of recognition every other Caido native seems to hunger for, and to see herself following in his footsteps makes her wonder if they're the anomalies.
"Would it have been like this back home? With my moms? To be expected to be happy and nothing else?" Grief is a rare shadow in her eyes as she whispers this question like a confession, wondering if maybe her heart's desires would have felt more natural in the land it had originated from. Maybe Sah raised her just as he should have, and it is Caido that can't fit the Lovi family perfectly; maybe they'll never truly overcome their status as Outlanders, for better or worse.
"Because everyone in Halo is given some sort of expectation to live up to," her voice wobbles unfairly as she leans her cheek into his hand pitifully. "The Seawrights, the Olsons, the Hales. And some of the kids used to complain about that because they didn't want to do what their family had always done but..." Soleil's face wrinkles, half-dried tears sticky and uncomfortable as she tries to search for why this worry lingers in her head when half the Natural Halovians in her graduating class would have killed for the freedom her dad provides her.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks about me. I care what you think. I mean - I care if you had - have? - dreams for me, or goals, and I'm not meeting them." It's a weight that her peers had dreaded, raised with it already chained to their necks, but Soleil can't help but seek to understand. Would she even want it if she felt it? If he says he really did have a life in mind for her will her wondering become dread? Is she just craving some sort of tangible history and familial torch to carry? Something that the destruction of their home world and the loss of her mothers had taken from her?
Laying her hand over his, she gives him a sad smile. "I know you love me dad," she whispers, certain as the sun. Diana whines softly, head still in her lap. "I love that you let me be me. It's just so different from everyone else that it's hard not to feel like we're the ones doing things wrong." Her gold eyes - his eyes - fall away toward Diana, face crumpling with a rare touch of grief. "It feels like all of us are just floating in space without a family tradition, or role, or history here. Is it normal to not be bothered by that?" To be okay with having never led a region, or been part of a council, or been uplifted as a demigod or a war hero? Her father has never seemed unhappy or unfulfilled without the sort of recognition every other Caido native seems to hunger for, and to see herself following in his footsteps makes her wonder if they're the anomalies.
"Would it have been like this back home? With my moms? To be expected to be happy and nothing else?" Grief is a rare shadow in her eyes as she whispers this question like a confession, wondering if maybe her heart's desires would have felt more natural in the land it had originated from. Maybe Sah raised her just as he should have, and it is Caido that can't fit the Lovi family perfectly; maybe they'll never truly overcome their status as Outlanders, for better or worse.
my head's in the sky but I'm falling backwards
