Frisk nods. "Yeah, I should be able to make the midnight airship to the Center." They pause, thinking carefully about the next thing they say. "Look, I don't know what happened to you before you came here, and it's none of my business. But even if it was, it doesn't matter now. What matters is that you're here, and none of us give a damn about who you were back on your home world. Because whether you like it or not, you're friends with a lot of people. Including me, if that wasn't already painfully obvious." Frisk gives him a subdued smile, quite unlike the reckless brazen smirks they plaster on their face quite often. Saluting Kuja, they turn back, jogging towards the airship station.
***
The next morning, Frankenmog is gone. But in his room is a pile of old, leatherbound books and a note.
Sir Kuja,
I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. Truly, leaving you some of my most prized literature is the least I can do. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything more, since I am not long for this world. In truth, I died many, many years ago, after a struggle with my creator and many years in a world that was nothing but cold and hostile to me. Neither can I say my death was undeserved, for as many terrible things my creator did to me, I repaid him back in kind several times over. He created my life, yet I ruined his, and that is a grave sin no matter the true nature of the man. So my spirit wandered Vaikuntha for several years, stewing in my own hate and rage. Had it gone on for much longer, I fear that I would've become an even greater monster.
But the kindness you and your young companion showed me changed all that. It reminded me of all the good things people have done for me before I died, giving me shelter, conversation, and even solace occasionally. For as many people that would kill those such as ourselves for the simple act of existing, there is an equal, if not greater, amount that would accept us and give whatever help they could provide. I beg of you that if you remember nothing else of me, remember that lesson, for it was one I was sorely in need of learning before I passed on. Now unburdened by my hate, I am now free of this plane, and although I regret I was not given more time to get to know you, I admit finally moving on to whatever is beyond has given me some measure of peace.
no subject
***
The next morning, Frankenmog is gone. But in his room is a pile of old, leatherbound books and a note.
Sir Kuja,
I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. Truly, leaving you some of my most prized literature is the least I can do. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything more, since I am not long for this world. In truth, I died many, many years ago, after a struggle with my creator and many years in a world that was nothing but cold and hostile to me. Neither can I say my death was undeserved, for as many terrible things my creator did to me, I repaid him back in kind several times over. He created my life, yet I ruined his, and that is a grave sin no matter the true nature of the man. So my spirit wandered Vaikuntha for several years, stewing in my own hate and rage. Had it gone on for much longer, I fear that I would've become an even greater monster.
But the kindness you and your young companion showed me changed all that. It reminded me of all the good things people have done for me before I died, giving me shelter, conversation, and even solace occasionally. For as many people that would kill those such as ourselves for the simple act of existing, there is an equal, if not greater, amount that would accept us and give whatever help they could provide. I beg of you that if you remember nothing else of me, remember that lesson, for it was one I was sorely in need of learning before I passed on. Now unburdened by my hate, I am now free of this plane, and although I regret I was not given more time to get to know you, I admit finally moving on to whatever is beyond has given me some measure of peace.
Regards,
Adamog