I would like to thank people for the critique and also inform you my spirit
is not crushed
and I hope to benefit from it. Unfortunately I cannot get spacing or paragraphs to work
they exist in the original but uploading did something. Any help is welcome and now on
with the story.
I was raised on ideals of death carnage and destruction. There is nothing else, and
there was nothing else until I met him. I do not understand ho w someone could remain
untouched by all this. I mean everyone else was affected in one way or another.
Trowa was the most classic case.extreme guilt, shock, and amnesia. He
seemed emotionless, a true mark of all the horror he had seen. He blamed himself for
everything that happen. He was a true solider he did what was necessary and repented
later. He later Duo, he was the extreme. He was a 15-year-old kid who dressed as Roman
Catholic priest and refused to cut his hair. Not for a fashion statement. But because it was
a reminder. There could be no other explanation. It was a reminder of a time long passed,
something he could never recapture. But he tries that may have explained the clothes as
well. But nothing explained what happen while he as inside his gundam. The yelling,
exuberantly as if it were a video game. And do not use that American explanation on
me. Being American does not explain the need to call himself the god of death. He truly
believed he was.. That has got to be an indication of a serious physiological problem.
Wufei.well where to start. If he had been millennia earlier he would have been
right at home. His opinion of women, his inane sense of justice and his desire for inner
strength. He and his people truly belonged in a time that no longer existed. As strange as it seemed, his principles helped make him the best adjusted of the group. It stoppered the
guilt. It gave him a reason to fight that made everything else meaningless. 'It was the
right thing to do, the enemy deserves to suffer for what they have done'
What was my excuse well I had never been taught better. Most people do not
understand me, and refuse accept my explanation. 'How can you never learn emotion' It
is as natural as blinking. 'How can you not car about yourself' Suicidal, is not the proper
explanation. I am not suicidal, and have no death wish what so ever. I merely place
things in a perspective with no subjective opinion. What must be done, must be
But Quatre.. what can I say? It was like his innocence had been frozen in time.
His belief in the sanctity of human life is ironic and irrational, as he parades around
killing people in his gundam. I thought at first that his innocence was merely a defense
mechanism. Denial, a way for him to cope with what he has done. But he is sincere and
genuine. He cared, I had seen him cry, cry for a death. I had heard him give warnings '
I do not want to hurt you'. How can that be true, he is mercenary, with one of the
strongest weapons known to man. He was an enigma inside a puzzle rapped up in a
riddle. I had never met anyone like him.
His appearance was unnerving, he looked like a Judeo-Christian image of an
angel. Blue eyes, pale skin with blond hair. I could not keep my eyes off of him. He was
the strangest thing I'd ever seen, we were complete opposites. We were foils, our
shared trait was merely his being a gundam pilot.
I began watching him whenever I could. When he slept.it was like nothing I
had seen before. When he was in REM, he smiled and sighed. I did not dream. The
Doctor had been sure of that; no strange images at night took away another aspect of
human randomness. He moved and kicked. I remember one night in particular.
He must have really been dreaming. He kept moving, more than I had ever seen.
He whimpered in his sleep, I had never expected that. He if began to cry out 'I'm
sorry..I didn't mean to..' He continued thrashing. But then he got louder 'No.!' I
carefully gripped his shoulders then I gently shook him. 'No..!' he cried again . I did it
again, this time harder. His eyes flew open mouth wide panting breaths.
"What?" he asked
"You were dreaming" I told him simply and walked out. What else was there to
say I had no explanation for why I was in there. There was no reason for me to be able to
hear him. My room was all the way down the hall and the doors on each bedroom door
was massive. He had left his closed as well.
The next morning at breakfast he said absolutely nothing. Nor did I.
and I hope to benefit from it. Unfortunately I cannot get spacing or paragraphs to work
they exist in the original but uploading did something. Any help is welcome and now on
with the story.
I was raised on ideals of death carnage and destruction. There is nothing else, and
there was nothing else until I met him. I do not understand ho w someone could remain
untouched by all this. I mean everyone else was affected in one way or another.
Trowa was the most classic case.extreme guilt, shock, and amnesia. He
seemed emotionless, a true mark of all the horror he had seen. He blamed himself for
everything that happen. He was a true solider he did what was necessary and repented
later. He later Duo, he was the extreme. He was a 15-year-old kid who dressed as Roman
Catholic priest and refused to cut his hair. Not for a fashion statement. But because it was
a reminder. There could be no other explanation. It was a reminder of a time long passed,
something he could never recapture. But he tries that may have explained the clothes as
well. But nothing explained what happen while he as inside his gundam. The yelling,
exuberantly as if it were a video game. And do not use that American explanation on
me. Being American does not explain the need to call himself the god of death. He truly
believed he was.. That has got to be an indication of a serious physiological problem.
Wufei.well where to start. If he had been millennia earlier he would have been
right at home. His opinion of women, his inane sense of justice and his desire for inner
strength. He and his people truly belonged in a time that no longer existed. As strange as it seemed, his principles helped make him the best adjusted of the group. It stoppered the
guilt. It gave him a reason to fight that made everything else meaningless. 'It was the
right thing to do, the enemy deserves to suffer for what they have done'
What was my excuse well I had never been taught better. Most people do not
understand me, and refuse accept my explanation. 'How can you never learn emotion' It
is as natural as blinking. 'How can you not car about yourself' Suicidal, is not the proper
explanation. I am not suicidal, and have no death wish what so ever. I merely place
things in a perspective with no subjective opinion. What must be done, must be
But Quatre.. what can I say? It was like his innocence had been frozen in time.
His belief in the sanctity of human life is ironic and irrational, as he parades around
killing people in his gundam. I thought at first that his innocence was merely a defense
mechanism. Denial, a way for him to cope with what he has done. But he is sincere and
genuine. He cared, I had seen him cry, cry for a death. I had heard him give warnings '
I do not want to hurt you'. How can that be true, he is mercenary, with one of the
strongest weapons known to man. He was an enigma inside a puzzle rapped up in a
riddle. I had never met anyone like him.
His appearance was unnerving, he looked like a Judeo-Christian image of an
angel. Blue eyes, pale skin with blond hair. I could not keep my eyes off of him. He was
the strangest thing I'd ever seen, we were complete opposites. We were foils, our
shared trait was merely his being a gundam pilot.
I began watching him whenever I could. When he slept.it was like nothing I
had seen before. When he was in REM, he smiled and sighed. I did not dream. The
Doctor had been sure of that; no strange images at night took away another aspect of
human randomness. He moved and kicked. I remember one night in particular.
He must have really been dreaming. He kept moving, more than I had ever seen.
He whimpered in his sleep, I had never expected that. He if began to cry out 'I'm
sorry..I didn't mean to..' He continued thrashing. But then he got louder 'No.!' I
carefully gripped his shoulders then I gently shook him. 'No..!' he cried again . I did it
again, this time harder. His eyes flew open mouth wide panting breaths.
"What?" he asked
"You were dreaming" I told him simply and walked out. What else was there to
say I had no explanation for why I was in there. There was no reason for me to be able to
hear him. My room was all the way down the hall and the doors on each bedroom door
was massive. He had left his closed as well.
The next morning at breakfast he said absolutely nothing. Nor did I.