“Okay, no, I’m not laughing. Not laughing. Are you okay? That must’ve hurt.” ~kingofcards
injury starters | @kingofcards
Sometimes, his ego gets the better of him.
Okay, most of the time, his ego gets the better of him, and today's no different, because someone up in the big offices had decided that everyone, no exceptions, needed to learn how to ride chocobos.
"An error in our curriculum," was how it had been described, a missing piece to accompany learning how to drive (and how to steal a car), how to ride a motorcycle (and how to steal one), how to fly smaller, single-engine aircraft (and how to steal them), and, specifically for Balamb Garden, how to pilot any number of boats and watercraft (and, of course, how to steal them.)
Seifer's never liked chocobos. They're big, they're fluffy, and they shit everywhere. It also doesn't help that he'd also been chased by a furious mother chocobo at one point in his childhood, where he'd spent three hours up in a tree until Cid had been able to wrangle the damn bird away.
But they're still just big damn birds, and supposedly broken and all that. He'd been the first to volunteer to get on its back, mostly so she'd report that he'd attended, that he'd passed, and that he could go back to doing literally anything else that did not involve these overgrown chickens.
Literally anything else. He'd rather be getting a root canal. Or fighting a T-Rexaur with his bare hands.
So, like he knew what the hell he was doing, he'd hopped up on the bird's saddled back, and then two seconds had found himself here:
Flat on his back, staring up at the sky, pretty sure that he's broken something. Not sure what yet, but certainly something.
And Quistis is, despite her claims to the contrary, definitely laughing at him. Or at least, desperately trying not to.
He eschews her help up, scowling at the bird running circles around them as he stands, dusting off dirt from the seat of his pants.
"What was that you said? I've definitely got the reins, Seifer, you're totally fine?"
