For Hazel
Chapter V
Secrets bleed and time is circular, coiling around itself in defence from the cold, its forked tongue impaling young love's radiance. A kingdom squandered and revenge so close, Serpent and Dragon tread the stage, girandoles fly and my Baptism grows near. I am gliding through that crawlspace between slumber and lucidity, calling back all those parts of myself torn loose by a procurator who now commands my torturers from behind some faint star-screen where the sun never shines.
A great deal has changed since Zidane became Regent, the nineteenth pawn in a shivering dynasty, although some things never will. No matter how hard he tries.
* * * * *
Garnet.........
Exhaustion gnaws at the pathetic shreds I call sanity, each fragrant, convulsive orgasm seeping beyond my soul and returning to haunt my life. I fear so often that I commune with a higher force when I enter this alternate realm, this coalescing reality that one day I will not be permitted to leave. Pray tell thine student, how should I pay adequate homage to this midnight scented metamorphosis with mere words? Would not the original vision, in all its coquettish glory, be stripped and fragmented before being absorbed into the mind of another, beaten and squandered so that none will know the truth. And if this fraternal force misunderstands my wishes then that proves my point exactly. Feed it words to keep it caught, let this uncommonly beautiful zeitgeist tear your heart out if it means maintaining your possession of that moment, that laugh, that self-confident swagger. After I am spent, a discarded addict on the floor of his Memoria, all that remains will be a bleached skeleton, smiling secure in the knowledge that his efforts were not worth the sacrifice. That's all I am, bare bones for all to behold. Then Serpent and Dragon rebuild me.
I am weak again, Kuja once more, not the effeminate masochist who lives day by day in dormant suspense with a six-foot sword. Through the haze of smoke, stale air and the stench of rats and alcohol I reach for the shuffling mass of darkness, groaning in confused agony as perception fades into the insignificant moonlight. That thing.....now another, dark and formless, searching, hunting. Shrouded, crouching, Squall and Seifer on a dawn-lit beach. None of this is real....please.....let me go......
* * * * *
Serpent's hair falls into his cyan eyes, he cries a tempest of flaming tears and crawls on his knees before my temple, my canyon, stabwound in the Planet herself. My child, arise, lead my campaign as only you know how. Convince your superiors, you know I'm the only way. I feel your breath between my lips, Kuja, you know I am you, you know you need me. I do so delight in my own calefacient capsule universe, how I love my world. And when war comes, we will create another.
* * * * *
"Some say that there is no diference among the barbarians, that they are all the same offal-eating abominations. This is false. The Portuguese will trade guns for women. The Dutch demand gold. The English want treaties. From this, you should know that the Portuguese and the Dutch are easily understood, and the English are the most dangerous. Therefore, study the English carefully and ignore the others". -- Suzume no Komo (1641)
Coronis
Secrets bleed and time is circular, coiling around itself in defence from the cold, its forked tongue impaling young love's radiance. A kingdom squandered and revenge so close, Serpent and Dragon tread the stage, girandoles fly and my Baptism grows near. I am gliding through that crawlspace between slumber and lucidity, calling back all those parts of myself torn loose by a procurator who now commands my torturers from behind some faint star-screen where the sun never shines.
A great deal has changed since Zidane became Regent, the nineteenth pawn in a shivering dynasty, although some things never will. No matter how hard he tries.
* * * * *
Garnet.........
Exhaustion gnaws at the pathetic shreds I call sanity, each fragrant, convulsive orgasm seeping beyond my soul and returning to haunt my life. I fear so often that I commune with a higher force when I enter this alternate realm, this coalescing reality that one day I will not be permitted to leave. Pray tell thine student, how should I pay adequate homage to this midnight scented metamorphosis with mere words? Would not the original vision, in all its coquettish glory, be stripped and fragmented before being absorbed into the mind of another, beaten and squandered so that none will know the truth. And if this fraternal force misunderstands my wishes then that proves my point exactly. Feed it words to keep it caught, let this uncommonly beautiful zeitgeist tear your heart out if it means maintaining your possession of that moment, that laugh, that self-confident swagger. After I am spent, a discarded addict on the floor of his Memoria, all that remains will be a bleached skeleton, smiling secure in the knowledge that his efforts were not worth the sacrifice. That's all I am, bare bones for all to behold. Then Serpent and Dragon rebuild me.
I am weak again, Kuja once more, not the effeminate masochist who lives day by day in dormant suspense with a six-foot sword. Through the haze of smoke, stale air and the stench of rats and alcohol I reach for the shuffling mass of darkness, groaning in confused agony as perception fades into the insignificant moonlight. That thing.....now another, dark and formless, searching, hunting. Shrouded, crouching, Squall and Seifer on a dawn-lit beach. None of this is real....please.....let me go......
* * * * *
Serpent's hair falls into his cyan eyes, he cries a tempest of flaming tears and crawls on his knees before my temple, my canyon, stabwound in the Planet herself. My child, arise, lead my campaign as only you know how. Convince your superiors, you know I'm the only way. I feel your breath between my lips, Kuja, you know I am you, you know you need me. I do so delight in my own calefacient capsule universe, how I love my world. And when war comes, we will create another.
* * * * *
"Some say that there is no diference among the barbarians, that they are all the same offal-eating abominations. This is false. The Portuguese will trade guns for women. The Dutch demand gold. The English want treaties. From this, you should know that the Portuguese and the Dutch are easily understood, and the English are the most dangerous. Therefore, study the English carefully and ignore the others". -- Suzume no Komo (1641)
Coronis
