Firoza Istus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bladeofnymeia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bottlebay2025-08-01 07:15 am
bladeofnymeia) wrote in bottlebay2025-08-01 07:15 am
Entry tags:
4th Quest [Audio, early morning] [Dawntrail spoilers]
[She's awake. Has been, since the weakest strains of dawn. But Firoza has not the energy or the desire to project any image of herself when she makes this post. She just wishes to speak to someone. Anyone. Even if no one deigns to respond.]
...So these months. The ones where new arrivals begin to appear. The hazy ones.
[A pause. A stifled sigh.]
They feel as dreams sometimes. Especially when whomever you met does not remain once the air clears. And...I am not opposed to dreams. Bittersweet though they might be. But it does make me wonder something.
[As much as Firoza is keeping her tone even, the emotion that seeps out is palpable. Heavy, tender sorrow. Longing and loneliness, and...a sparkling, defiant mote of hope.]
Do you think...a-and if this is personal to you, please, do not feel you have to respond. But could it be possible that the living are not the only ones who can find themselves here? That...that those who ought to have passed on, in one way or another, could still...appear?
[Just gripping those fuzzy memories of reuniting to her heart, bidding them not to escape. It would be too much.]
I ask only because...well. I adore you all, truthfully. Even if we have not been introduced properly. But I cannot ignore how sorely I miss so many from home. Both those who live, and those who do not. I just...even in a new form, I...I'd like to be a little selfish, and hope to see them again.
[She ends it there, but not without a definite sense of being torn by this desire. Both an insistent palm pressed to a deep bruise, and a gnawing worry tinged with gold.
"Am I as they were? So desperate to preserve their dead, allowing them no rest, no renewal? Stagnant and ever present in a dream?"
The thought doesn't mean to come out, but it does. Oh, it does.]
...So these months. The ones where new arrivals begin to appear. The hazy ones.
[A pause. A stifled sigh.]
They feel as dreams sometimes. Especially when whomever you met does not remain once the air clears. And...I am not opposed to dreams. Bittersweet though they might be. But it does make me wonder something.
[As much as Firoza is keeping her tone even, the emotion that seeps out is palpable. Heavy, tender sorrow. Longing and loneliness, and...a sparkling, defiant mote of hope.]
Do you think...a-and if this is personal to you, please, do not feel you have to respond. But could it be possible that the living are not the only ones who can find themselves here? That...that those who ought to have passed on, in one way or another, could still...appear?
[Just gripping those fuzzy memories of reuniting to her heart, bidding them not to escape. It would be too much.]
I ask only because...well. I adore you all, truthfully. Even if we have not been introduced properly. But I cannot ignore how sorely I miss so many from home. Both those who live, and those who do not. I just...even in a new form, I...I'd like to be a little selfish, and hope to see them again.
[She ends it there, but not without a definite sense of being torn by this desire. Both an insistent palm pressed to a deep bruise, and a gnawing worry tinged with gold.
"Am I as they were? So desperate to preserve their dead, allowing them no rest, no renewal? Stagnant and ever present in a dream?"
The thought doesn't mean to come out, but it does. Oh, it does.]
no subject
[Memory and soul ripped apart so...surgically precise.]
But to think of them as lesser...I don't. It's...there's still...personhood there? In my opinion, if that makes sense. A soul without memories is empty, full of promise. But those memories...they make someone who they are. They alone are unique with every birth and rebirth.
I'm sorry if I'm not explaining it right.
no subject
[ Souls, the spirit, it is hard to explain even in a world that knows they exist and can quantify or qualify them, at least to some degree. ]
... there is a cave in Unova. They say the deepest part of it connects to Sinnoh. I do not know if that is true. [ But if, but if ... he will be finding out. ] What is True: there are three Pokemon connected to it. What is also true: those Pokemon represent the spirit. Are said to have taught humans the three things that make up the spirit: knowledge, emotions, willpower.
[ There's one particular myth he found on a deep research binge that he'd skimmed over, but one particular punishment from it...
(If the memories make someone who they are, should that be applied in reverse, then? That a person without their memories is not that person at all?) ]
Knowledge. Memories. It is the same.
[ Not just data, then. He doesn't know if that's better or worse. ]
no subject
[But if one loses their memories...if they aren't taken away, they can be found. And even for the Alexandrians who lived, there were ways they could yet restore what was lost. She doesn't know that much yet, but someday she will.]
Our experiences make us who we are. I think...in the way souls are typically reborn, there is always something remaining of who came before. Like...it is cleaned, but it is not cleansed. There's a common thread between lives, sort of thing.
[How else does it explain the similarities between sundered souls of different shards? That there might be something deep inside of her from long, long ago, longer than she can fathom, that pulls someone to the surface that has been dearly missed?]
I am really not explaining it well enough, I'm sorry.