[video]
[It’s a late night post, a video display of Zack from his chin on down, facing a clear glass bowl with a golden fish idly swimming in lackadaisical circles. He really needs to put more stuff in there, you know. Fake plastic trees. Treasure chests. Something. Gil has to get bored with just those precious rocks given to him from small, kind hands…]
Nineteen months, and I didn’t even know. I guess, when you’re home, it doesn’t feel like there’s ever a beginning or an end, just a loop that never stops. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t miss everyone from home! I do! Cloud, Aerith, Angeal, Luxiere; I’d give anything to see them again, even now. Especially now. But everyone here, they’re just as important to me, too. It’s like having each foot in two different, equal puddles at the same time.
Nineteen months. It’s a long time. I wonder what’s the longest a Scorched has ever been here for. Wonder if I could make it for “forever”. Wonder if my friends would do it with me.
But they all have homes waiting for them, don’t they? And forever is a long time to be locked outta your house.
[One hand presses lightly against the glass, right before Gil’s little fishy eyes.] I had another dream, but I barely remember anything. Just darkness, really. It was more a feeling rather than seeing, you know. Fear. Heaviness. Desperation. Anger. Age-old raw, calculated anger and hatred. Anger that just breathes death.
I can’t tell who it belongs to, or if it’s a part of all of us. Maybe it’s the natives. Maybe it’s he-
[He trails off, a little sigh.]
Hmmm. My posts during the day sure are happier. Maybe I need to have my Forge confiscated after ten p.m.. Any takers?
And hey! Has anyone seen Scar, lately? I was thinking of dropping in on him, but he’s been pretty quiet. Never a good sign outta us folks who’ve been here awhile, is it?
[His hand -the one NOT touching the fishbowl-reaches over and fiddles with the Forge, turning off the video, but not before the worn bandage wrapped around it is shown in all its needs-to-be-changed-and-tended-to glory. And no, he can’t hide the wince the movement makes.]
Private to Freya
How are you feeling? Is there anything I can bring you? I could hit the market place or something, catch you anything you want, anything at all. Just say the word, okay? Your wish, my command.
Private to Self
Sorry I let you down, Angeal.
Nineteen months, and I didn’t even know. I guess, when you’re home, it doesn’t feel like there’s ever a beginning or an end, just a loop that never stops. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t miss everyone from home! I do! Cloud, Aerith, Angeal, Luxiere; I’d give anything to see them again, even now. Especially now. But everyone here, they’re just as important to me, too. It’s like having each foot in two different, equal puddles at the same time.
Nineteen months. It’s a long time. I wonder what’s the longest a Scorched has ever been here for. Wonder if I could make it for “forever”. Wonder if my friends would do it with me.
But they all have homes waiting for them, don’t they? And forever is a long time to be locked outta your house.
[One hand presses lightly against the glass, right before Gil’s little fishy eyes.] I had another dream, but I barely remember anything. Just darkness, really. It was more a feeling rather than seeing, you know. Fear. Heaviness. Desperation. Anger. Age-old raw, calculated anger and hatred. Anger that just breathes death.
I can’t tell who it belongs to, or if it’s a part of all of us. Maybe it’s the natives. Maybe it’s he-
[He trails off, a little sigh.]
Hmmm. My posts during the day sure are happier. Maybe I need to have my Forge confiscated after ten p.m.. Any takers?
And hey! Has anyone seen Scar, lately? I was thinking of dropping in on him, but he’s been pretty quiet. Never a good sign outta us folks who’ve been here awhile, is it?
[His hand -the one NOT touching the fishbowl-reaches over and fiddles with the Forge, turning off the video, but not before the worn bandage wrapped around it is shown in all its needs-to-be-changed-and-tended-to glory. And no, he can’t hide the wince the movement makes.]
Private to Freya
How are you feeling? Is there anything I can bring you? I could hit the market place or something, catch you anything you want, anything at all. Just say the word, okay? Your wish, my command.
Private to Self
Sorry I let you down, Angeal.