Aphex Twin - Goon Gumpas

Today was... interesting. An interesting day.

Learned a bit about the murder, it's gruesome methods, yet I still feel I'm not tied into any of this. He's a nobody. To think a nobody could do a lot of damage, be this menace. I leave the Jugend and can't get these thoughts away. I am struggling to, doing my best to let it go, and move on. I don't like to feel I'm useless, either, so that's why I'm active in this case. Johnny was a nobody too, before he became very well known around town. Well, known in the worst way possible. I think that's why I came back to Burmecia, to be known by the general populance. When I was at my worst, I'd go out to Lindblum's art museum. Worse than not picturing any of those paintings with the touch of my hands was hearing all those people call out the pieces I couldn't see by masterpieces.

I mean, what there is on a portrait that there is not on another? Input? You need input to do everything, to convey thoughts, a message, so do the people who call those artists and their paintings by 'masterpieces'. What's there so special in these that I couldn't figure out? Why couldn't I just leave my own opinion about it, without having to listen to someone, or in this case, a hundred folks gathered within a row, paying to see a painting forever hanging in a wall? I do enjoy art, there were some times Father Irontail and I came to the museum, and he let me touch those paintings, statues, feel their volume, intensity, dimension by my fingers. He would get the blame in my place, like always.

I have no one to blame but myself. No one to give input by me. Sigh, I hate having cynical thoughts. They don't do anything but make me feel bad. Just bad. Must be a thing from teenagers, but often I had thoughts of depreciation for someone else's work. It's like just because Lord Avon was born first and wrote 'I Want to be Your Canary' first that he is so well-regarded by the whole art and writing community. Only because he was the first one that the ones who came later have no chance, because their works will always be compared to the ones that came first. A piece inspired by Avon's masterpiece... those thoughts I had, they were so dumb. Really dumb, and not worth recalling.

Do you recall? Or haven't perceived in which street you're walking at? Yes, that's the place. The scent, the rain, the nivelation of the road...

...

Five years ago...

...

Could there be greater irony as a bird that cannot fly? Maybe a kingdom of rats. So, Hrist met her first chocobo. Choco, she said. How cute, despite almost being ran over by that thing. That huge golden fluffy thing. Funny, this bird does not look as huge as they used to when I was a kid. Hmmm, this very chocobo we came across reminds me a bit of Doyle, and how I used to eat his ratio. Tasted awful, but Doyle was the closes thing I ever had of a dog... he was there when father was not. I still have his last remaining feather at the top of my hat. Father's hat, too.

— Kweh! – the chocobo made that sound, as Hrist tried to reach for it. She wanted to hug Choco before he left.

— Bye, Choco! – all she did was say and wave goodbye. Choco walked away, pulling a carriage behind. He didn't looked back to the girl, no matter what – I wonder if he saw me wearing those, uh...

— Blinders? That's how these things blocking Choco's view are called by – so I began to explain Hrist that Choco didn't avoided looking at her because he was mean, of course not – lots of chocobos have blinders up so they can only see what's in front of them. Ain't no different from folks who only want to see what they want to, kid.

— Sigh You tellin' me a blind man is the happiest of all men? Happier than anyone else who sees with the eyes? My, you're pretty boring for someone with holes for eyes, Fratley – one thing I like about Hrist is her spontaneity, even if it may sound like an insult – (dare call me by kid again, smartypants).

— I do have eyes, Hrist. I'd say the blind man sees the best of all. Anyway... what I meant to say earlier is that everyone's blind to himself. I'm not judging them, to have some blinders up is what helps us get throught life, stay focused, healthy, happier...

— Are you happy, Frat? – Hrist asked, holding that very ball she went after, before... luckily, she met Choco, and that's all that happened, thank God – You look worried, like you know something I do not. Wanna play some ball with me?...

/\/\_/\_/\/\/\_

— ...No worry, I won't kick your crotch this time. Unless yer asking for it...

/\/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_

— ...My, where are my manners? You were kind enough to not yell at me... Stupid ball, almost got me done for...

/\/\_/\/\_/\/\/\_

— ...next time, I'll look at the two sides of the street... I'm sorry...

_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\_

— ...Hey, are you listening to me? Fratley?

— You asked if I was happy? Why, Hrist... I wish I had a few clear visual memories, but with you at my side, knowing you are fine, sure I am happy!

...

At present...

...

Home. Afternoon. The blindness men wish for, silence mother of truth...

— ...Uh, Frattie?

— What's it, Raymie?

— I don't understand this game – for a while, Raymie had been scratching its head. He and his brothers, we're all sitting on the table, playing a card game – how do we play it?

— I wonder – it ain't my first time playing Tetra Master, but still – a friend of mine said that he won a Tetra Master round by mere luck.

— Luck? – that was Ingus, the oldest of the brothers. I can tell he's old because of the voice – I'd rather throw dices.

— You're the one who wanted to play this game – poor Archie. Still has not figured out how to play it. I can't blame him.

— Now I do not. It's so boring. Boring like you, brother – as for the attitude, Ingus is just a kid.

— Your brother isn't boring – I say as if it's offensive to call someone boring on same was a jerk. Go figure that out...

— But he is.

— He is not.

— He sure is – a kid, confirmed – well, compared to you...

— Me? Am I boring?

— Hmmm... yeah. Ain't I right? – I can agree that some adults are boring. Adult? I'm not even that old. I'm only twenty.

— Well, can a boring guy tell that you have ten golden coins of gil, a piece of chocolate and a ripped button on your left pocket, Ingus?

— Hey! – I love each of their expressions. Even knowing what I'm able to do, Ingus is that surprised – how did you!

— I can smell better than anyone, kids. My, how I am boring...

— Yeah. If Fratley smelled anything else inside your pants – to hear this coming out of Raymie...

— That was rude, Raymie – I feel his sudden trembling. It's a thing I hate to feel, that I can't ignore with my senses.

— Oh, sorry.

— My chocolate... – said Danny. He's been a bit quiet. If putting his sneezing aside.

— Here, Danny. Take a bit – Ingus took a piece of chocolate from his pocket, and gave it to Danny. He did it so with a confident smile on face.

— My chocolate... you ate it.

— You gave it to me, remember?

— Mom gave me chocolate

— Yeah, she did. But in this state, can you really eat a whole bar of chocolate, Danny?

— You eat chocolate.

— Uh huh. But you gave it to me.

— No I did not.

— Geez... is the cold messing with your brains too?

— Please don't be mean with your brother, ingus. He's sick – it's just a cold, but how much of a debilitating cold for a kid – you should take care of him.

— Me, always me... Why can't anyone else?

— I ain't old. You are – Archie said, comparing his cards to the ones belonging to Raymie.

— To think we were born on the same day...

— Ingus, did you stole the chocolate from Danny? – I asked, still holding my deck of cards. If this was poker, I would be having a Royal Flush in hands.

— No, Fratley. I swear I didn't. Danny gave it to me. He didn't wanted to eat it all.

— Why Danny only gave it to you, fat? – outraged, Archie shouted at Ingus.

— Call me fat again, you jester! – to which Ingus layed his little hands on the table. He can't do much with these, not when I am nearby.

— Jester? You don't even know what that means.

— It's what you and Raymie are – a brief moment of silence, interrupted by Danny's coughs.

— Is that what happens when we eat too much sugar, Fratley? – Archie asked to me. I wonder if sugar can make you angry. Abstinence, perhaps, which ain't the case.

— We know Ingus ain't that sweet – Raymie said, laying his cards on the table – see, I got a Dragon, and a Goblin, and a Skeleton. What do I do with these?

— Can I say anything? – Ingus looked at everyone, with crossed arms. I wonder what he had to say, but I know it was no good.

— Yeah, where Ingus steps, grass no more grows.

— You're exaggerating, kids – I miss when I talked whatever I felt like, without having any worries.

— Tell me, Ingus... why did you gave a bit of Danny's chocolate back to him? – said Archie. I could listen to Ingus heartbeat, but I don't want to say that he's a liar. Besides, it has already been proven that he did something wrong, can't say anything else.

— Because I did not wanted to eat it – kids and their excuses...

— Why, you!... Taking advantage of Danny. Just look at him!

— You say it as if you haven't already told Danny to pick up the kite stuck on a tree. On a storm.

— That was before he got sick.

— Does that make any difference?

— It does. Danny wanted to help. Now it's time for us to help him out.

— Look! Danny didn't even ate the bit of chocolate I gave him...

— If I were on Danny's place, neither I would! – I wonder when this card game became something else. Meanwhile, I just listen to Archie and Ingus discussing with each other – Geez... you could have divided the chocolate for us if Danny didn't wanted to, but no! You're fat, thinks with the stomach!

— He called me fat again, Fratley – now they acknowledged of my presence.

— Archie is right. Taking the fat bit away, I mean...

— Heh, cutting the fat.

— Archie! – I hope I haven't increased the tone of voice that much. Nothing can be solved with shouts – well, Ingus, your brother is right at saying you could have divided the chocolate between each of your brothers.

— My... Don't you see, Fratley? Why Ingus give back the chocolate for Danny? He's laughing at his face!

— No I'm not!

— Yes, you are!

— I'm not! Y'all wanted a bite of that, didn't ya?

— Better than keeping it all to yourself, fool!

— Fool, me?

— Yeah, a fool. Isn't Ingus a fool, Fratley? – Danny's chin is burning. Uh, did someone called me? Was it Ingus, or... oh, it's Archie.

— He ain't a fool.

— But Fratley!... – At the moment, I'm giving all my attention to Danny.

— Danny, did you wanted the chocolate? – when I was young, I had fever. You can't feel any scent, and no taste. For someone blind, the senses are everything.

— Mom gave me chocolate. I like chocolate. Ingus like chocolate too – Danny ain't blind. Well... not in same way as I am.

— Hey, I like chocolate as well! Why didn't you gave a bit to me? – Archie won't give up – or Raymie? Hey, Raymie! You heard me?

— I can't eat chocolate.

— Why not? Does your face gets swollen like a frog's one?

— No. I broke my teeth with chocolate once.

— Did you? I broke mine with an apple soft as butter.

— Archie, you're so clumsy that you broke your nose falling on your back – poor Danny, his head is boiling. Oh, was that Ingus talking to Archie? Wait, which one's who?

— And you are a chocolate thief! – that's Archie, uh huh.

— Oh, come on! Let it go, and move on – and that's Ingus, trying to get away from responsibility. Kids... – now you'll say that I have to hug Danny.

— Ingus hugs like a snake if you ask him to – Raymie said to me, to which he took all breath to himself. Wait, is he running out of air, or – I WON!

— You won? How so!? – I think I should put Danny on bed. Oh, and Ingus gasped –Raymie, you cheater!

— I'm no cheater! I mean, Grand Dragon eats Goblins, right? And Goblins eat, uh...

— That's not how you play the game. In fact, nobody knows how to play it. So why are we playing anyway?

— I know, but it's lots of fun this way. Don't you agree, Fratley? – Raymie asked to me. I think I'm having a deja vu.

— Well... having fun is better than having nothing at all. Don't you think?

— A-ACHO! – Danny's sneeze pulled some Tetra Master cards away from the table.

— Bless you – all that phlegm within one's throat...

— Thanks, Frattie – oh, Danny called me Frattie. I'm flattered. Guess he learned with the brother.

— Eugh! Gross! It's yellow – speaking of his brothers, Archie and nobody else wants to play with the cards – whoa, Danny! From where did you got that cold?

— I... I don't know.

— Alright, buddy. Time to rest – Danny's already falling asleep before I could even pick him up.

— It's what happens when you keep poking the nose too much – I heard it from Ingus.

— Funny, I haven't seem you with diarrhea, Ingus – was it Raymie? Archie? All my senses mix up with Danny's heat.

— Uh... you forgot the cane – did I?

— I can walk without it

— But if you fall...

— I would never, not while holding you – or holding to the handrail, in this case. My, having another deja vu, Mr. Irontail? I guess. So I put Danny to sleep on his bed. I take a time to hear his lungs. The acid in his stomach, the blood circulating on his veins... he'll be fine. Just a cold, nothing to worry about. I thought that bringing Danny to play with the brothers at the table would make him feel better. Being all alone in this room, in this darkness, it ain't good. Now that Danny knows he isn't alone.

— Gosh, what a waste of time! – as I come downstairs, I hear the boys shouting to each other.

— It ain't no waste of time. Wanna give up?

— I don't. Not for a loser.

— Hey, I'm no loser!

— Archie, my dear brother... You're such a loser that if you went in a loser contest, you would end in second place!

— Why not first?

— It's because you're a LOSER!

— Fratley! Ingus called me loser! – I can't tell who's who. Their body temperatures are almost the same.

— Don't yell, kids. Danny fell asleep – it doesn't matter, there should be a little bit of order in this house.

— How did he got that cold? – Raymie is worried about his brother.

— Who knows? I don't wanna get that bad – so does Ingus. Kinda.

— Danny.. he was so healthy yesterday. Fratley? – Archie has no idea how his brother got that sick.

— It's the flu, boys. Spreads quickly on air and has no mercy on anyone.

— Good afternoon! – I can tell that sweet and raspy voice belongs to April.

— Mom! – a tall figure surrounded by little whirlwinds, holding of a basket in one arm heavy as Phoebe in another.

— You've brought the bread I like, mom? – that was Ingus, raising his hands to the basket. I hope he cleaned his hands, under toes too.

— Uh huh.

— Let's see – Ingus should clean his hands. Other than that, I feel – Eggs, bread, cheese, cookies. Chocolate cookies. Five oranges, apples... Six apples?

— Am I supposed to be open mouthed? – April stares at me, so do the boys. Phoebe opened her mouth to let a yawn come out.

— Well, aren't you? Is that mint in your breathe?

— Why... yes – an icy, freshy breathe

— Mint, mom? Do ya have bad breathe, mom? – asked Raymie, to which his mother stared ugly.

— A woman has its secrets – not at the boy, but at me instead. I leave the stairs to help April out. She's been carrying a lot of weight from the market until home. Everything's on table.

— ...A pot bottle filled of water – which could've been filled of seltzer water, tea, or lemon juice.

— Why, taking a guess? – how so, April? I didn't even touched the bottle...

— I do not take guesses. I just smelled what's inside. It's water.

— When since ever water smells?

— It does. Not for you, normies! – CRUNCH! I love that expression in April's face. She hates mine.

— Fratley, you silly! There's no need to impress me with your abilites – How do I describe it? MUNCH!... A frown for anger, a curve for a smile, that's the best I came up with.

— I need to. Or else, you would be very disappointed.

— Disappointed with what?

— By living with a blind man.

— Oh, sure. With the way you show off yourself, who remembers about your deficiency? – April knows how to put sense in one's head – now kids, why don't you go play outside?

— Uh, play? – I feel worry in Raymie's voice – but you said...

— Play with responsibility.

— You heard your mom, buddy – I haven't noticed the state of Raymie's legs for a while. Guess it's because I have nothing to worry about, he's fine.

— Yeah, as long as we are not idiots like Raymie – Ingus... he's a hard type.

— Don't call you brother by idiot.

— Yes, Fratley – so Ingus ran away, following Archie to outside. The door is open, but Raymie refuses to go.

— Ingus called me idiot, mom.

— He didn't wanted to.

— But what I did...

— You won't do again, right?

— Right. Hey mom, my legs are healing! – yes, the legs. Full of leeche bites. For a kid who lost so much blood these days, Raymie seems a lot excited.

— Good to know. Wait, did I said good? Oh, that's amazing!

— O-Okay mom! Mom... That's enough, mom! You can get off me already! I feel fine – kids and their parents, hugs and kisses...

— So do I. Come on, you can go outside and play for a while.

— I heard you, mom. See you later!

— Later! – now there's only Phoebe for April to care about. Yet, something in her eyes, so do her heartbeat, changes – does hearing me is enough? I mean, what prevents Raymie from doing what he did again, if not worse?

— The boy cares about you as much as you do with him. It's just that he doesn't know how to express it.

— He could just say 'I love you, mom'.

— Deep inside, your kids are willing to say it.

— So, why they don't? Is it because they feel sentimental while saying so?

— The many was we can express love to someone, April – there's a garden outside the window. I throw what's left from the apple I ate there. Could it be a sign of love for nature?

— Want some cheese bread? – to feed someone might be tied to love. Might be.

— My favorite – April apple pineapple... I could make a tongue twister – still warm? Let me guess...

— Yes. It's warm bread, out the bakery. Anyone with a nose could tell.

— What happened at the Jugend?

— Nothing special. One of my students passed the first training, and that's it – I don't like to talk about my work to April. What stays at work should stay at work.

— That's good.

— Like this bread. Did you knew there's another way to tell if a bread is good or not? – so I took a bread out the basket. I can already tell by the slight touch of hands, it's texture, the softiness inside, that's a good bread – all you have to do is squeeze it, slightly. You can hear by the crunchiness. Here, have a piece.

— Thanks – I offered a piece of bread to April, to which she offered me, eh – here, have it.

— Alright... – a baby. There's no such unplesant thing as to hold a baby in arms. For a guy with senses as I, have something like a baby very close is... not bad, though. Phoebe is fine, smells like gardenias in the wind, her tiny heart beating a lot. I think it has to do with her heart and mine, I don't like hearing both hearts and being uncertain for a lot of time.

— Know what I heard from Melissa? – meanwhile, April is working around the kitchen, cleaning Danny's mess, making coffee, cheese bread, patting Phoebe's head, it's surprising how much she can do with an only hand, now with two – sis said that, at her neighborhood, instead of meal, they're selling bones. Raw bones, like the ones you give to dogs, being sold to people. Can you believe it? I can't. Who would be desperate enough to eat a bone? I blame the government for the lack of effort at distribution.

— The government ain't the only to blame. Tell me, where does your sister lives at? – neither I can't believe it. As for solving, though...

— I asked her, because there's no way that there's no meat avaliable to buy around the hills. There is, but with the few they have, who can afford it all? Yes, sis live at the hills. You know, those burmecian slopes you can barely walk up without almost letting the rain pull you down. Urban waterfalls, that's how they are called around. They really pull you down, let me tell you. I say that as a kid who got inside a wooden cart and got pulled by her brothers down the hill. It was fun, like riding on a comet, before I clashed against a wall.

— You clashed against a wall? – I'm impressed. April ain't a knight or anything like... she was a child, right? – how did you survived?

— Children do have twice the guardian angels as we grown ups have – April takes a seat at the table. Phoebe is too quiet, they both had quite a day – well, I lived at that place, people still live there, no excuse for having no meat, because I had. Got injured and had the finest meal I ever had. Onions boiled together of a ironite steak followed of a lettuce so crunchy...

— Like this bread?

— Yes. You know something's good for you when you can hear the noise of how good it is at your mouth – so I listen to April's words, followed of a carrot taken to pieces bite by bite, reduced into something slimy and – Fratley, don't you dare...

— Sorry. I can't avoid, not after what you said.

— I know when you're hearing something you don't want to. Know how?

— How? – April stared at me. The deep stare of a croc in the lake.

— You wiggle the ears. Everytime you hear something gross – does I? Wiggle wiggle... Guess I do. So does the little at arms.

— Look, Phoebe wiggled her ears.

— Sir Fratley – sigh, that croc is about to bite me, am I right? Nah, April doesn't – with those senses of yours, at least you can tell if my food is poisoned or not, fresh or rotten... instead, you use them to spoil the fun. Not that I mind. I wonder, how does water smells like?

— Well... – how I will tell it in a simple way, without working around and getting her confused? Don't worry, I'll find a way to, but I can't say I will not sound too intellectual – indeed, water has a scent. It's hard to tell, because there is no such thing as pure water. There is, but it's hard to found. Depending from where it came from, if the source to a bottle of clay, water holds of so many elements, like earth, and earth shares of so many tiny elements, like iron, dead animals, and have you ever heard of elements? It's a new talk around Lindblum, something about every life, every thing in this world and universe is composed of elements, the basic ones being... well, they're yet to be called a name, because they do exist, we are made of these elements, if not even tinier elements, like a neighborhood inside a town, a town inside a city, a city inside a kingdom, a kingdom-

— Whoa – pant pant pant... I need some coffee – that's a lot complicated than I thought.

— It is. I'm out of air, but there's air around me. Lungs work with exchange of airs, you inhale and exhale. The plants as well. See that willow outside? It's breathing. Someone from Daguerreo, those guys are really smart, proposed that the plants do breathe, they have breathing patterns like us, but their air exchanges are the opposite of the one we have. Like, have you ever felt healthier near a tree, or walking at a park? Well, that can be explained by the plants taking our exhaled breathe by inhaling it as they do, and exhaling the air we inhale. I know, it's complicated, but it won't be as soon as we come up with names for these 'airs'. There's more than oxygen in the air we breathe. Imagine if all plants were called the same name, if every red petal was called rose. Things wouldn't work like they should, but they already do. It's just that we haven't come up with different names.

— Even if our goal is to be equal – I like April's single way of seeing things in contrast to mine – by being different, everyone is equal, don't you think?

— Yeah, sure – coffee's good – do you know from what Gaia's most expensive coffee is made of?

— Poo?

— Really? How did you guessed?

— I knew you'd say something gross – April and her sixth sense...