Monday, June 7, 2004

   Yeah...

I'm printing out some History homework. Funny thing is, I can't print in black. I need to make the text in color. Odd, isn't it? And I think... I'm in deep shit. I need to get a hold of a camcorder....again. Damn that teacher. I don't see the point as to why we need to record a tour of our house/neighborhood or do a live show. That's...just...pointless to me! Argh. But on a brighter notice, I started writing a Final Fantasy IX fanfic piece. It's sorta like a sequel to it. Kuja is back... Sorry, I like him. Yeah, he looks very feminine and stuff, but you have to admit, his role in the story was rather interesting... One of the most peculiar villains I've come across. And I made a wallpaper, too. I'll try to upload it... Meanwhile, here's a piece of what I have in my story so far: -Prologue- He was lying upon the bed of roots that made up his prison, his body resembling that of a chewed up rag doll. His beautiful silvery hair was strewn out around him, tangled and matted with dirt. His clothes were shredded, the sleeves nothing more than red, soaked tatters. His skin was caked in mud and the roots beneath him were drenched in shiny crimson blood. The once vibrant young sorcerer's eyes were clenched, shut tightly in pain and in grief. Bruises that covered his torso proved as evidence that he was bleeding perpetually inside. From a few feet away, a young man much similar to himself sat, hunched over. Zidane didn't know what to do. His brother was going to die . . . The thought was so painful he just wanted to scream. But that wasn't going to help any. After a moment of silence in which all that could be heard was his brother’s ragged breathing, Zidane crawled over. It was such irony that right next to him was the Angel of Death. And he was dying. Zidane hugged himself miserably, tears pouring silently down his face. “It’s…it’s my entire fault…,” the sorcerer croaked, his eyes opening slowly. They were pale; dead. There was no life left within him. Zidane didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. There was the sound of a sharp intake of breath. The older one whimpered and Zidane was suddenly struck by how horrible their end would be. Memories of his brother's former glory (and his own) flooded back upon him, washing his eyes of all their tears. [Flash] I will present you a marvelous display of my power. I am certain you will be most pleased. [/Flash] “Brother?” Zidane whispered, his eyes blurring as he gazed at the inner heart of the Iifa Tree. [Flash] I'm not done telling how to make soulless toys out of the dregs of souls. [/Flash] “I’m so sorry, my Brother…” the blond said, bitterness seeping into his voice. “You… You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. You are not the one to blame.” “No, I am. I should have gotten us out of the Iifa Tree before it sealed itself. I failed . . .” [Flash] Lives come and go all the time. What's the big deal? [/Flash] Zidane felt as if something were ripping his chest out, pulling at his ribcage and trying to break it. There was a pressure building there that he desperately wanted to release. [Flash] The body becomes a vessel, which greets a new soul. [/Flash] “No . . . I don't want a new soul. . .” Zidane whispered He said nothing. He knew what Zidane was thinking. “I want . . . to live . . .” The sorcerer coughed. Zidane could smell the blood. He heard some mumbling. And so he leaned closer to his dying brother, a wave of fresh sadness washing over him. “…Little Brother…” “What…?” “…I want you to...do something for me.” Puzzlement came across the young one’s face. “Live…a good life…” His eyes closed for the final time. “What…?” Zidane asked. And he was suddenly jerked away, by a strong magical force. /No…/ He realized that he was going to be teleported out of the Tree’s prison with the remaining amount of energy the warlock had in him. “Brother!!!” He screamed. It was in vain. Tears poured down his face as the figure of his only relative diminished. -x- Zidane was free. But he felt no joy. He stood, alone outside of the Iifa Tree. A wind picked up and blew. He stared at the many roots that had imprisoned him and his Brother. The roots that became the grave for his Brother. The blond Genome contemplated what to do next. For a moment, he thought that he had no one to return to. But then he remembered the promise he made to Dagger. [Flash] No . . . You're not being selfish. You've done so much for us. If it weren't for you, I probably would've led a meaningless life. With you, I was able to see so much of the world and meet so many people. We faced many hardships, too . . . but . . . I think I finally know what's important. I'm so fortunate to have met you. I'll never forget our trip together. Thank you, Zidane. Promise me one thing . . . Please come back. [/Flash] “I’m coming back, Dagger…” With one last silent goodbye to his Brother, Zidane Tribal turned and headed home. -Chapter 1: Rebirth- A pair of translucent blue eyes opened slowly, welcomed by the never-ending swirling of darkness. He reached out with a pale hand, as if hoping to feel something. But there was nothing. It was the same, as it had been for the last… /Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? …even years…?/ It was a somber thought. Perhaps time did not exist at where he was. If he existed at all, that is… He was floating? No, sitting? Not possible. He didn’t feel any weight beneath him. He didn’t feel anything at all. He just was there, in a void of…nothingness. Pure blackness engulfed him. “Where…am I…? I….I feel so…lost,” his voice echoed aimlessly. His question went unanswered. He wasn’t expecting an answer. He was alone. He had nothing with him. He knew nothing. He wanted to open his mouth, to scream. But he knew that if he tried, it wouldn’t make a difference. He was trapped. Trapped in the world that had consumed him. Trapped in the world that was created just for him. Trapped in the world of emptiness. Of loneliness. Of nonentity. /…was such a fate meant for me…?/ Tears started to prickle at his eyes. /Sorrow…/ That single word flashed through his mind. It was a feeling, he realized. And if he was feeling pain, then that meant… A flash of light surrounded the bewildered young man. Eyes dancing around feverishly for a sign of danger, he raised a hand to block the brightness from his aching eyes. “What’s going on?” he called. His voice trembled slightly. /Fear…/ Something else to feel. The light dimmed slightly. Sight adjusting, he peered around cautiously. Not much seemed to have happened, other than the fact that wherever he was, it was no longer pitch black. A sigh escaped his delicately formed lips. Maybe he was hoping for too much. Should he walk? It was worth the try. He tried moving his legs. They moved. And it tingled a bit, too. He suspected it was because he hadn’t moved in the abyss he was previously in. He took a few steps forward. It wasn’t as if he had a path to follow though. He just moved around. And he felt slightly… /Happy… I’m…alive?/ He couldn’t doubt that as much as he did before. His silvery tail flicked around and wrapped around his ankle. /I can move./ He took in a deep breath. /I’m breathing…/ He focused with little effort, and a ball of energy appeared at the palm of his hand. /And I have my powers restored…/ Lips curled into a smile. This was just wonderful. He spoke aloud. “I’m no longer dead. I, Kuja, am…alive.” He broke into a gale of laughter. He continued to laugh as the world devoured itself.

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