[she groans, and her voice is pretty freaking pathetic-sounding.]

I think I'm getting sick—or I already am sick. I ache all over, and everything keeps spinning. I'd grab a potion, but every time I try to get up, I kind of uh, fall over.

[she sort of sniffles.]

My floor is actually sorta comfortable. After lying on it for like, an hour, I guess it has to be.

So I'll just wait for everything to stop whirling, okay? Then maybe I'll get up.

[recording cuts.]

[Begin Recording]

(Voices, but they're hushed. After a few moments, they rise and the speakers are easily recognizable.)

Gippal: --ell me I can't talk to anyone?

Baralai: (His voice is odd, and gets more distorted as he speaks.) Not anyone. Just her.

Gippal: What is wrong with you, 'Lai? It's not like I've never talked to her before.

Baralai: That was before - this is now. And I'm telling you to stop.

(Floorboards creaking from above, and muffled footsteps.)

Gippal: Cred, you woke the sandbrat up. Just... go, all right? We'll deal with this later.

(Sliding of metal-on-leather as a gun is drawn, then a click as it's cocked.)

Gippal: Baralai!

Baralai: I told you to stay away from her. But you didn’t listen.

(A few seconds of silence, and then the sound of another gun being drawn and cocked.)

Gippal: Put it down, 'Lai.

Rikku: (Groggy.) Hey, what's goin' on do— (Abrupt pause, and she sounds more awake.) ... Why do you two look ready to blast each other's faces off?

Gippal: Rikku, go back upstairs.

Rikku: But-

(Shifting of weight, and clicking of metal-on-metal.)

Baralai: (His voice is even more distorted now, darker and more cynical.) Do as he says.

Rikku: Get that gun out of my face, and maybe I will!

Gippal: (Frustrated.) Baralai, put it down. Rikku, crid ib.

Rikku: Tuh'd damm sa du crid ib frah dran-

(Gunshot, and a masculine shout.)

Gippal: (Obviously panicked.) Rikku! Bara--!

Baralai: She should have learned. (The "stranger's" voice is more prominent now, taunting.) Are you really going to shoot me, Gippal? Shoot him? (Baralai's voice becomes the more audible of the two, but holds the same tone.) I'm your best friend, Gippal.

(Instantly following Gippal’s name, there’s a gunshot, and the recording quickly becomes nothing more than static, though the sound of someone running is heard just underneath the white noise. A mechanical pop and fizz cuts the recording.)

[End Recording]