391Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcYwfiuv5Lt
391Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBJi6ol4cFD
ISAAC: Bahamut, you say... for me, it was only a creature. A creature who holded of enough power to kill god, but all that mattered to me was Sarah. Lamp oils fueled the ring of fire and its path to wooden homes. A man took out its gun and threatened to shot, this before he shot himself on its toes. An old man, didn't knew him, and none of the people around. Their faces tasting horror bitter like lemon, hollow eyes, bleeding inside, some wearing clothes and others nothing at all... it was like a painting of judgement's day, yet Sarah wasn't on it. Sarah... she was at home when it happened. The soldiers came in to put out the fire spread throught the entire neighborhood. Funny how few of them die burned to a crisp. Instead, they drown in the middle of flames, which ain't my case. Then I saw a silhouette of a woman like Sarah jumping out the window, followed by the noise of bones and flesh turning to mimcemeat. It could happened to be Sarah, but instead she went to the store to buy milk... blessed milk.
JOSEPH: When that Eidolon stood upon air, my only reaction was to use my secret technique. Yes, want to know? Okay... you use the legs, then... RUN AWAY FAST AS YOU CAN! So I did, skin crawling up, shivers and sweat followed me, unlike those I left behind. Not that I didn't cared for anyone, so I had to come back. Man, these things always happen, and little we do to keep them froze in time, don't you think?
TIMOTHY: Hello. How am I doing? If you want me to know, then you are a monster. Well, it wasn't you who ate my leg, though...
ADAM: My momma said life is like a box of shit. You always get shit. Wait, is that a bad word? This whole world is bad. One more mean word won't do difference.
AURON: Kajal?...Oh, Kuja, isn't it? Don't know him. Does he know me? He sure knew how to ruin my day. My dissapointment is immesurable. As for my ferule, thought...
VINCENT: Kuja? So, that's the name of the guy who summoned that Eidolon... is that a guess, or what? Look, lady, even if this Kuja might be involved somehow, I don't think there is only one person we can blame. Sorry if I may be pouring salt on the wound, but your people suffered too, didn't they? I am from Lindblum, saw my family and beloved ones staring at the void of Atomos. Then I went to Alexandria, cursed the Queen's name, that ugly thing... Brahne, right? Well, they made us suffer too, and so we made them suffer by being the best. How ironic that airships were built to promote peace and now they slowly became weapons. A gun can be holded by any kid, you know. Sometimes, I think these things, like, they never end. It's a circle, a snake that keeps eating its tail, what's the name? Oh, Ouroboros! Right, a circle that never ends...
JACK: Uh huh... I lost my job, like pops. He used to sew clothes as a tailor, but now that everyone can borrow a cloth by any size, tiny, medium, fat... it ruined everything, they had to. Me? I did nothing wrong. I was stepped over by their feet. Who? The machines, I mean. They are everywhere, their scent, their creators, now I am wearing them. Well, except for these rags, which I made by myself. These machines... can you believe they get repairs when broken? And as for father, he died of a heart attack. Nobody cared to treat him. I mean, how can you fight against an enemy that you can't see a face in it? You just kill everyone by chance, that's all I say. An Eidolon, you say? They do not have consciousness of what they do. They are like machines, and you can't fight against them, only wish that someday, things may be different. Will they?
IRIS: Want a flower? They don't have spikes. I agree, they are very pretty. Please, don't tell anyone else, but I stole these from the graveyard. Well, doesn't make a difference, since everywhere I go became a graveyard. Thanks for the money! I won't forget you, I promise. As for what happened... I'll try to not forget it as well.
MARY: I hate being an alexandrian. In times like these, I wish I could be a burmecian like you, my dear. Why cry, if there's a whole city where it always rains?
MARCO: There are no trees. No tall trees. I have no friends. I want a house. Dad is a locksmith. I asked to him if he could build a treehouse. Dad said no. I want a treehouse so I can piss on those walking below, but which use would there be if I have no friends? Wanna be my friend?
JULIAN: Mom bought me a balloon. It floated upon the skies. Mom couldn't grab then, even thought she was in the skies. They sure are big, don't ya think? Will there be space left for me? You don't know? Neither I. I'll only know if I go with mom. Her chin was hot. You are cold, miss. Scare me a bit. Hey, you are gray like mom too, but you're still here, not in the wind like she, and my balloon.
PETER: I saw the end of the world by my window, before its shards penetrated deep in my eyes. You ask if I felt something? Pain, perhaps. Maybe not, since my eyes had no use before. I am blind from the day I was born, and to the day of my death. My almost deaths, twenty of them. I can't walk without a cane, or without being seen by other's eyes. A large street feels like a prison not only for my legs. Now, same street feels like junk. It will be built back to its glory, even thought I'll never see it.
RAEL: Uh, I don't talk to strangers. Yeah, you are rat like me, but no. Well, nothing else in this world is strange for me, or any kid. No, I can't think about last night, for real. Was that real? Imagination doesn't hurt, but my head do. Got a brick threw at me, and this time not by a hand. My friends, you say? I can't say they are friends, but anyway... We were playing rock paper and scissors. Rock always win, unless your partner choose paper. Doesn't make sense, you know. A tiny little bit of paper gets cut by a rock, I mean. Doesn't that count? Oh, you mean if what I am talking has anything to do with Bahamut? Sure there it is. I mean, I can't read a book but I know that the good guy always win, but when you are mean enough, the bad guy wins. Sometimes it's a matter of luck, like rock paper scissors. If you wanna hear more, talk to Paul. He sucks, but please don't say to him I said these things, okay?
PAUL: ...Rael and his pants stinks piss. Well, I saw fireworks at New Year's Eve. They were beautiful, despite being loud. Not that I am complaining, but here, we use potatoes instead. They explode in midair, though we can't eat them anymore, or feel the scent at morning. When Bahamut came in, I thought 'cool'. Later on, when the ceiling fell down against mom and dad and friends at dinner... Nothing cool. Right, Danny?
TIMOTHY: Sorry about before. Had it been you who lost a leg... also, have you found it? I see no vultures in the skies. I and the scent of my pants are worthless even to them.
DANNY: When I saw that great thing in the skies... I felt myself shrinking beneath its power. Liliputians between cyclops, that's all I have to say.
VINNY: Pleased to meet you, lady. My name is Irvine, but they call me Vinny. Danny? Uh huh, he's my brother. Heard him? Okay. Wanna hear me? Well, can't remember that much. Bricks hit my head and floor. Maybe I was dazzled, but I saw a girl flying in the skies. A girl and her panties, floating like a feather, eyes of a doll... she fell on the river, but you know as much as me that rats swin well.
CLARA: Hiya! Nice to meet you too. About last night? Geez, I was so frightened. Couldn't hear a thing, only my lungs deflating and running out of air. Soon as my clothes and skin caught fire, I jumped out the window to the lake. I was one of the few who could get back to surface, breathing. Know where my mom is? I found her hand there...
RAEL: Hi... again. Phew, what a day. It's the same day at the square, and at this station, lady. Noticed something different? Hnng... my back hurts, but I feel glad of the money in hands. Not a great lot of them, but gold is good, isn't it? Better than nothing, you know. I know. The station, you say? A place frozen in time, except for dust falling at the tip of your nose. Trains used to come in and out, now they just rest here like tombstones, or should I say bedrooms? This is where I live. Many live. Well, not for too long. Soon this place will be demolished in change of a hospital and a park. In a way, this makes me sad, though I am too young to remember I once witnessed the trains who once moved from here to another station.
WORMLEY: My name sucks, doesn't it? Dad was a farmer, you see. No, he wasn't there, and I wish I was somewhere else. With so many asphalt, barely there is earth to dug and put your head into. These claws are good for digging, see? Too bad I couldn't use them to get out the rubble, but you did. Yeah, I feel right, thanks.
HENRY: For years, I worked as a milkman, selling bottles to homes with gates covered in gold and no limits at all, only of my sanity. At the filthy streets, all I did throught my entire was to feed people in change of something. Your life for mine, mine for yours, understand? Only now I understand. I mean, there was a blast in the skies, ceilings falling down on people, bricks shattering skulls of children, but somehow I survived, albeit crippled in a leg. Many bones were broken, and I still had to sell milk. Now everything seemed to matter, people really need me, yet a thing in me said 'you can make money out of tragedy and suffering that isn't your own'. For this reason, to shut up this voice in me, I lowered the price to zero. The milk was going to be free, while the fish became a meal to be served by gods. Which ones, I ask? There is none. Only man alone with a knife. The knife is the Eidolon, and since you're alone, have it be useful in any way, but to choose to be more alone than yourself do... I wonder if it's stupidity, or self preservation. What else can I say? I am a milkman, not an engineer, a doctor, or even a lawyer. Just someone who knows the truth, but can't change it.
RAEL: Again? Well, I like to walk, and to wear new clothes. You ask if these are mine? Of course they are! See these rags? Uh, maybe these aren't mine, but then, to who else they belong? Can't answer, huh? Neither I. It's me, or the dog's teeth. The dogs around are HUUGE like this...
FOCKO: Hi. My name is Focko. A stupid name, don't you think? It's worse than Wormley. I mean, they make fun of its name with jokes like 'where on earth have you been?' or 'what's the size of your worm?' or even 'how many worms do you have in pants?'; it ain't funny when a joke is in your name. Focko you...
FREYA: The skies fell down, just like Cleyra. But this time, people cared. All these people... some alike me, others alike them, mostly kids, all living at same kingdom, wearing shoes or feeling the heat of asphalt by holes or the whole feet. Given Bahamut's power, a hole should had been dug at the middle of Alexandria. Well, as you may have noticed in all these faces, there is something hollow in all of them. Hollow as the eyes of my helmet. I hear cats meowing, in deight of the meal lying around. This is awful in many senses, and the worse part is that they'll forget this happened. We all fear what we forget, but we don't have fear to forget. I wasn't at Burmecia to help, thought it's a Dragoon's task to help the living. Something in me was dying, and I feeded it day after day, night after night. At least, I was there to help. An opportunity I grabbed and holded tightly as the ribbon in my tail. It seems that anywhere I go, when I am able to do something, this orange ribbon earns a new meaning, or perhaps an old one long forgotten. A gift from Fratley, whose head ain't on good shape, neither mine. Between falling debris and those already fallen, silhouettes of buildings hindered by thick smoke, the Dragoon was willing to help, compensate the lives lost, while a side of me said 'well done, alexandrians. You deserved it', but I did my best to ignore this voice, which no longer I can ignore to be mine.
By: Brian Eno
From: Apollo: Atmosphere and Soundtracks (1983)
391Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4z4155fpb0
Without thoughts, words can't be conveyed.
Without words, thoughts are unable to come up.
Both are vital to each other.
Like the wings of an angel...
A man and a woman.
Now, when I think about her name, none of these things are brought.
My throat dries instantly. That's impossible, I know...
Neither it does make sense, but why it should?
I try. Try to make things have a sense.
I am a man of facts. A man of reason.
Yet, I lost everything for no reason...
Even who I am.
Fratley... one of my identificators.
A name that makes me into something.
Someone, I mean.
Freya...
No matter the bad days, where I was shut on bed...
Fighting back against tears splattering on the window...
Hating myself and what I did wrong...
I always liked that name.
My true name. The way he called me first.
Was here to take care and call me by my name.
Got my hands cut by a wire. They bleeded, I cried.
But I didn't cried for myself. Never I did such thing.
Leave me alone, I yelled... while all I wanted was the opposite.
Why not be sincere? Be yourself at once.
I tried... how I tried.
Freya...
And so I heard my name. Spoken by its voice.
Once again I heard it. And he was there to hear me.
Most of the time, he wasn't there, but somewhere else...
Living someone else's life.
A life I afforded for free, and how much he was willing to pay for it...
Father...
He died, serving the nation
And I became a weapon. A weapon of justice.
A Dragoon Knight...
Whether or not I didn't liked it, that's a title I was destined to have.
An identificator. A thing that made me into someone.
Yet, I was already someone for father.
And his coat became mine, with his scent and everything gone...
together with the ashes blew by wind.
The red and warm coat... a sort of legacy.
He left me in this world, on other hand.
Left mother too. And my siblings, if they even cared as much as I did.
Maybe they did. Maybe they rest together of each other...
Lying on same grave.
391Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL6DN928Ljd
Dreams...
Everyone has dreams.
A way to separate truth of fiction...
Meaningless from meaning...
Or mix them both.
Don't know who am I, and why should I care to know...
By myself, I mean.
I am what others tell who I am.
I am made of other's perception of what I do, and what shouldn't I do.
I am passive of changes. Well, everything changes...
But in dreams, none of these matter.
I can be a cloud by association. I am gray as a cloud full of water about to pour down.
Watermelons are full of water too. And the red rain, which fell upon Burmecia...
Upon a soil growing of bad seeds...
Chaff and wheat, they can't live with each other
Or else, they leave a bad aftertaste in the mouth.
Always in the mouth, relying in the mouth...
Which we used to feed on mother's milk.
Mother... I had one, didn't I?
Is she alive? dead? Do I cry, or smile for her?
It's been a long time since I saw her.
Don't know it's name. I try to remember, my head hurts.
It hurts... I hate pain.
I... I hate myself.
Don't hate yourself, that's what she would say.
Everyone needs a mother. Every animal has one.
I treated her like an animal. Like a rat.
Like mother.
Stalwarts.
I had a lot of them as a kid.
More than friends, between the tips of my fingers... stalwarts.
Nobody holded my hands. Nobody, you say.
Your first friend did. The one you saw first, spoke first at.
Father... he always seemed away from home.
'I'll be back'; so he said.
The Dragoon said.
To think the day he died was a day like any other...
A day where birds sang in clear skies.
The stalwarts were gone, same for tears.
Out the tip of icy fingers, and eyes melting.
Father never told mom or me how much he loved us.
Neither in face, or even a bit of his silhouette to be at my sight.
Well, he loved us by doing what he should.
And, thinking about it...
By saying 'I'll be back', he meant to say 'I love you'.
...Your mom is so old that dust comes out her tits!...
...Then why don't you prove iit by yourself?...
...With pleasure!...
It wasn't me who said these words. Of course it wasn't this me.
Or that me.
Had it been me, I would feel ashamed.
Not that you already are...
We all are.
I mean, who didn't ever made a joke about someone else's mother?
She's so fat... who cares?
We do, by thinking with our fists. I don't rely on fists, no more.
The Dragoon taught me... I mean, everyone, that fighting isn't like this.
It's something above, beyond boys pulling each other...
Hurting each other.
...Trust me, babies aren't pretty. They may be cute, however, pretty they aren't.
That's what Amarant said to a guy at bar. Maybe a friend, but who to tell?
I have none. None I can trust, or recall.
That blue Amarant... I seem to remember him.
No, maybe not. The azure of skies can't be compared to that face.
Neither the flame, or the pretty amarant petals.
Why have I brought him to my dreams?
...What do other woman think when you say you are a father?...
So Amarant said to a person at the bar.
...I don't see myself as a father...
That person said. Don't know its name, neither his son will
...Well, there are two types I can remember about. The first one says 'I'm a father', to which the woman thinks 'he sure is responsible'...
Sure.
...and the other one, who's about to received a kiss, says: 'I'm a father'...
Stop. I'm done. That's why I got out the bar, as I can remember.
Couldn't stand this conversation, or the many others which became wax for my ears.
Freya wasn't there. I took a walk for myself, to breathe some air...
I can't breathe in dreams, yet I don't drown. Only if I want.
That's not my wish. So much to be done...
The Dragoon could do these things and all, but I don't deserve that title.
Refuse... not only that guy from the bar Amarant kept talking with, but many refuse the title of fathers, leaving orphans by themselves.
So many I left behind, but it ain't my fault there are many orphans
I am one of them too. Have no father, no mother, siblings...
Freya...
I like this name. It brings satiety.
...SHUT UP! Stop making those noises with your mouths!
A man yelled. Not only at me, but the entire restaurant.
I was wearing the Dragoon's coat, as usual.
Couldn't do anything. I can't arrest nobody by instinct.
Well, haven't you?...
...You are killing yourself, Crescent...
...And what if I am?...
...An only ego can't decide the life of another...
...Well, isn't that what you're doing as well?...
So I said to Amarant. He doesn't understand.
I didn't cared to understand, but he was right.
Me too. We both right, is there something wrong with it?
Is there something wrong with Fratley?
I loved him, from the bottom of my heart.
Now I hate him.
Hate what he became, while I should be hating myself for what I became.
Blame myself for it all. Implode instead of sucking it all into my void.
This hurts...
Little as a splinter at the tip of fingers, it hurts so much.
He wasn't there to make me feel better.
Mother was. Took the splinters out my fingers, then I felt better.
She is dead. I don't feel any better.
She died of age, before war and genocide came to Burmecia.
Before children began to throw sharp rocks as an only defense against invaders...
Before their fathers and mothers were butchered in front of their houses...
Before they young ones became soldiers in fear of being shot by cowardice at tomorrow...
In fear of a tomorrow that could or not arrive...
Should I feel any better?
Should I feel fear?
I am a fearless knight. Used to.
I gave up of being a knight. Of a Sir.
Why? to who?
Only Fratley remains. My only identificator.
The only thing that seems to matter, and not matter at same time.
I feel pain. Everyone does.
I feel sad. Who doesn't?
They made me feel pain. In flesh and mind.
Do I have a soul? They didn't.
Do I feel pain? Could I feel something? Did I turned out to be alike them?
Those who made me feel pain, hit my head...
As if breaking each of my bones wasn't enough.
They made me forget the pain, but it was someone else who made me forget joy
Happiness. Freya and all the moments she speaks about...
It was me. I choose to forget them.
Couldn't distinguish between pain and joy. Blood and honey...
Had to forget it all...
Zorn and Thorn...
Jesters. Foolish jesters.
Alike Brahne, Queen of whales... they are dead.
Before, they killed so many people...
Good people, like him.
He served the nation.
Taught me many things.
Followed me to bed.
Sang me lullabies.
He closed my eyes, whispered to my ears...
We watched the sky so close, enough to touch the stars above...
They aren't cold at all.
When I think about it, I feel a childish, guilty thrill. Is it my fault?
It was my fault.
I didn't wanted to, but I had to.
Then I blame myself.
I blame others first, then myself.
Again.
I try to see sense in things that do not make sense.
Why i insist? I am a rat too. I want eat.
But I am also a man. I can't eat this, or that.
I can't be mean with her all time
Mother... she taught me to not punch any girls. I know she did.
I have the power, but the restriction could only be granted by her
She sufferred the most to know any better than anyone.
In no way I would, for no reason, punch a girl.
And what if a girl hurts me
...You are too young to be hurt by a girl, and a girl can't hurt you...
...Only women are able to...
I smile, even thought these words aren't from mother.
But I smile because I imagine her saying these things.
Truth and fiction, belief and fantasy... they are tied into one and another.
Then I imagine mother's face, her sandy hair, green eyes...
She looks like me, but in reality, she was she.
And I am I. But I saw myself in her, as much as I see me in her too...
Freya... what a cute name. Her ears are cute too.
I feel a need of squeashing them, but not too hard.
Or else, it might hurt her, and me too.
In dreams, I loved a woman.
Time and prospects changed, but nothing in her did.
Nor it's appearance, nor it's name.
Yet, something in me changed.
Freya wants to change me.
She ain't me, but knows me better than I do.
'Let fear propel you forward', so I said. 'Do not let failure stifle you', I continued...
She didn't waited for me. Instead, tried to find me in this whole world...
Tried to find myself in this whole me.
We try to find ourselves in someone else's body, mind and soul...
Words, thoughts, doubts, concepts, appearances...
I think that's enough. There is not enough love in this world, despite the way each one sees it.
I love Freya. Which one of her? In which way I love her?
I say that I love her, and that's fine.
In dreams, I loved a man.
No matter the time, the position... none of these things changed.
Neither did its name, or mine. But the walls closing in...
I try to break them, but from where I borrow such strenght?
It would drive me crazy to be a Dragoon all time...
But to be a woman... to be Freya...
My first identificator... Who I am, who I like to be...
For myself, and another...
Let it be infinity as it lasts.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
