Touha

FFT – ZBS – 2 – Goltana’s Gambit Knelt before God in Orbonne Monastery, Princess Ovelia prayed to the heavens. Her golden locks fell just past her shoulders, freely in back and in two braids which hung just forward over her shoulders. Her pale skin, befitting a woman of her class, was covered by white silk dress, and then in turn by a scarlet cloak with a yellow triangle emblazed on the back. Ever so quietly, under her breath lest she upset any of her companions, and even then perhaps only in her thoughts, she pled with God. “God, please us sinful Children of Ivalice. On her knees before God on a dais at the end of

Final Fantasy Tactics: the "Zodiac Brave Story": A Retelling Chapter 1: Sown Seeds Dawn is approaching in Ivalice. Some way off in the distance the sun rises lazily to shine over a distant mountain range, like a child peeking out reluctantly from under the covers in the morning. Its rays of brilliant white light fall on and begin to warm the dew-laden grass on the leeward side of the snowy peaks. As the beams catch the droplets of water clinging desperately to the blades of grass on which they rest, they set the ground alight with a brilliant glare. What was a field of closely-cropped grass now appears to be a beach littered with diamonds,

My Inferno The noise is unbearable. Shrill whistles, coarse shouts, babies crying, every sound imaginable becomes another hammer blow inside my head. Every other second some piercing shriek penetrates the violent maelstrom of noise and manifests itself as searing pain in my brain. The smell of over-buttered popcorn mixes with all-too-sweet cotton candy and the rank fumes of alcohol on the older, drinking fan base, threatening to entirely upset my already queasy stomach. The floor feels like it’s been coated in syrup, and the rubber under my shoes just so subtly sticks to the ground with each step, as if trying to detain me. The

An Ambivalent Detour I have little inspiration for the topic at hand. Do I give him what I think he wants to see? Can I create something that meets his demands? The task put forth is just a little bit tricky; Eloquence, normally a desirable goal Now takes the form of the proverbial rose Easy on the eye, beautiful to behold But concealed thorns beset this prose For recognition has a price, an erosion On a carefully constructed image of indifference Poetry, just sappy displays of emotion They whisper bitterly; just a hindrance Another obstacle to be tackled and overcome, Completed at midnight the night before, Or else waking up a