Categories > Games > Final Fantasy X-2 > Necrosis Infinitum
Author's notes: I re-wrote this chapter. I'm much the pleased with it now. It's better. Sorry for being a whiny emo bitch.
Chapter 2 - Cut Loose
Captain's Log - 1st Day on the journey to Rikku Island.
Adventure. This, more than anything, kept us going all those years of being scattered, building and re-building Home. Glorious, exciting, adventure. We didn't have Yevon, so we needed something else to keep us alive, and that was the hunt for new things. A discovery waits around every corner, and we knew the taste of success and hungered for it. We didn't need the peace of Yevon or the Fayth, although the Fayth certainly do give you that low-down, knee-shaking feeling of awe. Or they used to, anyway. Now the people of Spira don't have Yevon, they don't have faith or Fayth, and us Al Bhed still have a sweet sweet mysterious world to discover.
A part of me doesn't want to share, that nasty little self that curls up at the base of my spine and whispers in my ear Yunie doesn't need to eat the last doughnut. Foul, manipulative voice. But the rest of me is willing, wants everyone else to know the joy of figuring out what's wrong with the machina callibration sequence you've been running for hours/ without an end in sight to the problems. That sudden snap of everything falling into place. Who wouldn't want to partake in it? Better than blitzball even. Don't tell Wakka I said that. He'd be hurt./
Rikku shut the log-sphere down, slipping it into her pocket to record on later. The prow of the boat cut through the steel blue waters, pulling farther away from New Home with each shudder of the engines. She got up, and stood at the edge, holding onto the railing. The waters passed beneath her, and she savoured the feeling of the wind playing in her hair, the sun beating down and stealing the air's chill. Freedom. That's what this was. A few days ago she'd been piss-drunk, waking up on the a random couch. She'd stumbled back to her room and managed to get herself up and presentable for the day, the day that changed everything.
---
The hot sun melted over her as she worked, sweating and swearing under her breath. In front of her was the stubborn piece of machina cred Pops had asked her to fix, saying after she could come talk to him about something/, something important. Whatever /something was or would be, he hadn't gone into. Mysteries and secrets were fantastic, as long as they were her mysteries. She grunted as her screwdriver slipped, causing her to break a nail as her finger snagged on the sharp metal.
"Kuttyssed E's kuehk du lrub oui ib yht samd oui tufh ehdu puppo behc oui beala uv lnyb!" She hissed viciously at the machine, sticking the tip of her finger into her mouth to soothe the ache. A snort of laughter made her look up. She blinked and then glowered at the interloper.
"I don't think the machina really cares if you turn it into bobby pins or not, Princess." The bane of her existence was leaning against the wall of the shed, watching her sweat it out over the little robot at her feet, looking smug without a sign of a hangover. How was that possible? She'd barely touched alcohol last night, okay, maybe five drinks, but still, that was just getting started, at least for her! She'd downed a third of her usual and had been left with a roaring hang over this morning, the bright light out here in the sands of Sanubia painful and blinding.
True, there had been that time with the wedding, and it had only taken a couple of Luca Slammers to get her well and tidily hooped, but that was 'cause of all the excitement, right? And that other time during Yunie's Pilgrimage when she'd somehow swiped Auron's jug of sake and ended up on her back in his tent and... /vilg/, now was really not the time for thoughts like that. But she could hold her drinks fine and dandy! Being short and skinny had nothing to do with it when she'd gotten smashed on a bottle of Bevelle's finest and crashed Brother's skiff. Hell, no!
But there he was, the grand peacock himself, a testament to the Al Bhed male population's ability to withstand more alcohol than a shoopuf. He was standing there looking devastatingly handsome and pulled together after he'd been completely shit-faced last night. He was apologizing to his drink for spilling it! And nevermind her and her stained shirt!
"Goody for the machina," she retorted through gritted teeth and bent down to wrench that cursed screw from its hidey-hole once and for all. A large hand pushed hers out of the way, and Gippal took the screw-driver from her, easily teasing the little bolt out of the metal. He placed it in her open palm, rough fingers grazing her calluses, making her shiver lightly despite the heat.
"I wouldn't want you to waste a perfectly good machine on bobby pins, Cid's Girl," he said, his face plastered with the same smug expression, but his voice carried a soft lilt, a shading to it she hadn't heard since...
"Nice of you to care about the metal bits, Gippal," she said, opening up the loosened hatch, rooting around inside, biting her lower lip in determination.
"So, anyway," his voice changed again, "I want my shirt back." He sat back on his heels next to her, putting a distance between them so he could see her properly. She blinked at him from between a maze of wires she'd pulled out of the junk-heap.
"Huh? Oh... your shirt... I'm wearing it." She peered back down at the wires and started stripping the plastic coating on them, pulling it back in long ribbons, ignoring the blank look on his face.
"That's not my shirt."
"Yes it is," she said, an superior smile ghosting her face.
"My shirt... doesn't... it isn't... that..." his voice sounded a little choked.
"Isn't what?" Ahah. There it was. She unclipped the pulsing beacon from within the wires and smiled. Little treasures, all wrapped in pink and green and red, with shiny bolts and nuts. Better than jewels any day.
"You cut up my /shirt/?" She blinked up at him. He was staring at his shirt-that-had-been, eyes flicking over the lacings that held it tight. He wasn't immune to a nicely-toned bare stomach. He grunted slightly. "You owe me a new one," he said, clearly biting down on something else he wanted to say instead. She rolled her eyes and went back to digging around in the guts of the machina, feeling it up from the inside.
"I think someone is forgetting he dumped his girly, paper-umbrella-type drink all over me, so I think we're even." More treasures, an oscillation controller and a rather oddly-built tick switch, meant for older machines that needed a power control that was a light touch but trustworthy. Maybe it'd work in that little bear robot she'd been building for Vidina. Gippal cleared his throat, standing over her.
"Yeah, well..."
"Don't think I'm going to forget your embarrassing choice of beverages, mister," she screwed the hatch back into place and got to her feet, dusting the sand from her knees. He was watching her, his lone eye glinting in the sunlight. He didn't say anything, so she turned. She was twenty paces away, walking towards Cid's office, when,
"Congratulations, Cid's girl!" he called out after her. Congratulations? What?
---
"WHAT?" She stared at her beloved vydran in utter and complete disbelief. He was grinning like a cactuar that's just released 1000 Needles and left its prey writhing on the ground. Grisly as the image was, it seemed to fit her balding, brash Pops. "You've found a new what?" The tick switch, oscillation controller and pulsing beacon lay forgotten on his desk.
"A new set of islands," Cid said, grinning impossibly wider. "And you're gonna go set us up for salvage there. Think of it as research and development on a travellin' scale." Maybe the Fayth were still around somewhere, or Auron was still looking out for her now, like he'd done back when he was still un-sent and, uh, un-breathing. Or whatever. Praise be to whatever higher power, anyway. As long as you aren't evil and try to kill the people who praise you.
"Airship?" Glee crawled its merry way up her spine, itching at her to do a little jig. Shhhhh, let's not mess this up, 'kay? she ordered her rebellious, twitching emotions. Nothing destroys an image of utter capability like dancing on your father's desk and singing at the top of your lungs. Not that she projected the image of utter capability, but a girl has to have some false-confidence, right? Oh no, she'd do some dancing... but later, in her own office, door closed and latched. Cid shook his head and pulled out a set of maps.
"We don't have one to spare, and I want you to get in close to the sea waters... things are going to be hidden under the ocean, not up in the clouds. We've got the Vundiha almost sea-worthy again; she'll see you fine to where you need to go. Three weeks; it's a week of travel, we guess, each way. That'll give you enough time to send down the first light beacons and do a little scouting with your team." Her /team/. She had a /team/. T-E-A-M. Hers. A small determination filled the back of her mind, to only take along dashingly handsome Al Bhed men with her, and maybe get a little back at He Who Must Not Be Named. Not that she was obsessing needlessly. Not over a worthless, one-eyed flirt. She schooled her thoughts back to her father as he was pointing out a few possible routes.
"Rikku-land," she said suddenly. He blinked at her and then burst into laughter, clutching his softening belly.
"I guess you can call it that," he said through chuckles.
"Hey! There's absolutely nothing wrong with the name Rikku! Any island would be proud to be called Rikku!" She glared at her father without any heat as he wiped his eyes of tears.
"Your sudran would have agreed... though not on letting you go out on your own," he said, and suddenly the tears of laughter had changed, so quickly it took her breath away. He was on her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close and holding her there, his hands shaking on her shoulders. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go away....
"It's okay, y'know, she'd be happy an' stuff, right?" She patted him on the back awkwardly, not used to the close affection anymore. Cid sighed and hugged his tempestuous daughter.
"She'd kick my ass," he said, but with a fondness in his misty eyes.
---
She was packing her trunk, trying to figure out what gear would be absolutely essential. A knock at the door caused her to look up. Tidus was leaning there, looking uncomfortable.
"Hey," he said simply. She beckoned and pointed to the bed, her mouth stuffed with a pair of socks she hadn't found a spot for, as she folded an extra wet-suit. He perched on the edge of her mattress, watching her as she crammed one last garment into the metal case before sitting on it with a faint hope of getting it to shut. All those doughnuts had to be worth something right about now.
"Yeah?" she asked, relieving her mouth of the blessedly clean socks.
"You leave tomorrow?" His words were clipped and short, sounding out of place coming from his easy mouth and open face. She frowned.
"Uh, yeah, Ty..."
"Let me come with you," he said quickly, "I can fight fiends, you know that, and it'll be like... y'know, going to Zanarkand but, not. I did say I'd take you there. I don't want you to think I pussed out on my promises, or nothing." She stared at him blankly as he babbled at her.
"But, Yunie-"
"I need to go." The words hung between them, awkward and sharply uncomfortable. His blue eyes sought hers, his hand wrapping around her fingers gently as he came to sit on the trunk, helping her close it.
"Oh..."
"Yeah."
A horribly gross can of worms, closed or opened. She was just glad it wasn't her that had managed to fall in love with the hapless Blitzballer. He was a little... complicated. At least she knew where she stood with Gippal, as far away as possible and with her ass-kicking combat boots on in case the man got any smart ideas.
"Hey, well, that's okay, everyone needs a bit of space sometimes." She smiled, determined to cheer him up despite whatever argument he'd had with Yuna today. Probably about something silly, and he's totally overreacting... she snorted inwardly. /They're like puppies in a basket/. Tidus looked painfully relieved.
"You're not going to regret it," he said with a grin, resembling his old self. Maybe time away from everyone would be good. It would be just the two of them plus her band of merry (hot) men, up to tricks and mayhem like old times on the Pilgrimage. Without the phrase Yunie is going to die beating a steady tattoo in her head. And away from the people who... clouded the issue.
Even if Yuna would never in a million years forgive her.
Chapter 2 - Cut Loose
Captain's Log - 1st Day on the journey to Rikku Island.
Adventure. This, more than anything, kept us going all those years of being scattered, building and re-building Home. Glorious, exciting, adventure. We didn't have Yevon, so we needed something else to keep us alive, and that was the hunt for new things. A discovery waits around every corner, and we knew the taste of success and hungered for it. We didn't need the peace of Yevon or the Fayth, although the Fayth certainly do give you that low-down, knee-shaking feeling of awe. Or they used to, anyway. Now the people of Spira don't have Yevon, they don't have faith or Fayth, and us Al Bhed still have a sweet sweet mysterious world to discover.
A part of me doesn't want to share, that nasty little self that curls up at the base of my spine and whispers in my ear Yunie doesn't need to eat the last doughnut. Foul, manipulative voice. But the rest of me is willing, wants everyone else to know the joy of figuring out what's wrong with the machina callibration sequence you've been running for hours/ without an end in sight to the problems. That sudden snap of everything falling into place. Who wouldn't want to partake in it? Better than blitzball even. Don't tell Wakka I said that. He'd be hurt./
Rikku shut the log-sphere down, slipping it into her pocket to record on later. The prow of the boat cut through the steel blue waters, pulling farther away from New Home with each shudder of the engines. She got up, and stood at the edge, holding onto the railing. The waters passed beneath her, and she savoured the feeling of the wind playing in her hair, the sun beating down and stealing the air's chill. Freedom. That's what this was. A few days ago she'd been piss-drunk, waking up on the a random couch. She'd stumbled back to her room and managed to get herself up and presentable for the day, the day that changed everything.
---
The hot sun melted over her as she worked, sweating and swearing under her breath. In front of her was the stubborn piece of machina cred Pops had asked her to fix, saying after she could come talk to him about something/, something important. Whatever /something was or would be, he hadn't gone into. Mysteries and secrets were fantastic, as long as they were her mysteries. She grunted as her screwdriver slipped, causing her to break a nail as her finger snagged on the sharp metal.
"Kuttyssed E's kuehk du lrub oui ib yht samd oui tufh ehdu puppo behc oui beala uv lnyb!" She hissed viciously at the machine, sticking the tip of her finger into her mouth to soothe the ache. A snort of laughter made her look up. She blinked and then glowered at the interloper.
"I don't think the machina really cares if you turn it into bobby pins or not, Princess." The bane of her existence was leaning against the wall of the shed, watching her sweat it out over the little robot at her feet, looking smug without a sign of a hangover. How was that possible? She'd barely touched alcohol last night, okay, maybe five drinks, but still, that was just getting started, at least for her! She'd downed a third of her usual and had been left with a roaring hang over this morning, the bright light out here in the sands of Sanubia painful and blinding.
True, there had been that time with the wedding, and it had only taken a couple of Luca Slammers to get her well and tidily hooped, but that was 'cause of all the excitement, right? And that other time during Yunie's Pilgrimage when she'd somehow swiped Auron's jug of sake and ended up on her back in his tent and... /vilg/, now was really not the time for thoughts like that. But she could hold her drinks fine and dandy! Being short and skinny had nothing to do with it when she'd gotten smashed on a bottle of Bevelle's finest and crashed Brother's skiff. Hell, no!
But there he was, the grand peacock himself, a testament to the Al Bhed male population's ability to withstand more alcohol than a shoopuf. He was standing there looking devastatingly handsome and pulled together after he'd been completely shit-faced last night. He was apologizing to his drink for spilling it! And nevermind her and her stained shirt!
"Goody for the machina," she retorted through gritted teeth and bent down to wrench that cursed screw from its hidey-hole once and for all. A large hand pushed hers out of the way, and Gippal took the screw-driver from her, easily teasing the little bolt out of the metal. He placed it in her open palm, rough fingers grazing her calluses, making her shiver lightly despite the heat.
"I wouldn't want you to waste a perfectly good machine on bobby pins, Cid's Girl," he said, his face plastered with the same smug expression, but his voice carried a soft lilt, a shading to it she hadn't heard since...
"Nice of you to care about the metal bits, Gippal," she said, opening up the loosened hatch, rooting around inside, biting her lower lip in determination.
"So, anyway," his voice changed again, "I want my shirt back." He sat back on his heels next to her, putting a distance between them so he could see her properly. She blinked at him from between a maze of wires she'd pulled out of the junk-heap.
"Huh? Oh... your shirt... I'm wearing it." She peered back down at the wires and started stripping the plastic coating on them, pulling it back in long ribbons, ignoring the blank look on his face.
"That's not my shirt."
"Yes it is," she said, an superior smile ghosting her face.
"My shirt... doesn't... it isn't... that..." his voice sounded a little choked.
"Isn't what?" Ahah. There it was. She unclipped the pulsing beacon from within the wires and smiled. Little treasures, all wrapped in pink and green and red, with shiny bolts and nuts. Better than jewels any day.
"You cut up my /shirt/?" She blinked up at him. He was staring at his shirt-that-had-been, eyes flicking over the lacings that held it tight. He wasn't immune to a nicely-toned bare stomach. He grunted slightly. "You owe me a new one," he said, clearly biting down on something else he wanted to say instead. She rolled her eyes and went back to digging around in the guts of the machina, feeling it up from the inside.
"I think someone is forgetting he dumped his girly, paper-umbrella-type drink all over me, so I think we're even." More treasures, an oscillation controller and a rather oddly-built tick switch, meant for older machines that needed a power control that was a light touch but trustworthy. Maybe it'd work in that little bear robot she'd been building for Vidina. Gippal cleared his throat, standing over her.
"Yeah, well..."
"Don't think I'm going to forget your embarrassing choice of beverages, mister," she screwed the hatch back into place and got to her feet, dusting the sand from her knees. He was watching her, his lone eye glinting in the sunlight. He didn't say anything, so she turned. She was twenty paces away, walking towards Cid's office, when,
"Congratulations, Cid's girl!" he called out after her. Congratulations? What?
---
"WHAT?" She stared at her beloved vydran in utter and complete disbelief. He was grinning like a cactuar that's just released 1000 Needles and left its prey writhing on the ground. Grisly as the image was, it seemed to fit her balding, brash Pops. "You've found a new what?" The tick switch, oscillation controller and pulsing beacon lay forgotten on his desk.
"A new set of islands," Cid said, grinning impossibly wider. "And you're gonna go set us up for salvage there. Think of it as research and development on a travellin' scale." Maybe the Fayth were still around somewhere, or Auron was still looking out for her now, like he'd done back when he was still un-sent and, uh, un-breathing. Or whatever. Praise be to whatever higher power, anyway. As long as you aren't evil and try to kill the people who praise you.
"Airship?" Glee crawled its merry way up her spine, itching at her to do a little jig. Shhhhh, let's not mess this up, 'kay? she ordered her rebellious, twitching emotions. Nothing destroys an image of utter capability like dancing on your father's desk and singing at the top of your lungs. Not that she projected the image of utter capability, but a girl has to have some false-confidence, right? Oh no, she'd do some dancing... but later, in her own office, door closed and latched. Cid shook his head and pulled out a set of maps.
"We don't have one to spare, and I want you to get in close to the sea waters... things are going to be hidden under the ocean, not up in the clouds. We've got the Vundiha almost sea-worthy again; she'll see you fine to where you need to go. Three weeks; it's a week of travel, we guess, each way. That'll give you enough time to send down the first light beacons and do a little scouting with your team." Her /team/. She had a /team/. T-E-A-M. Hers. A small determination filled the back of her mind, to only take along dashingly handsome Al Bhed men with her, and maybe get a little back at He Who Must Not Be Named. Not that she was obsessing needlessly. Not over a worthless, one-eyed flirt. She schooled her thoughts back to her father as he was pointing out a few possible routes.
"Rikku-land," she said suddenly. He blinked at her and then burst into laughter, clutching his softening belly.
"I guess you can call it that," he said through chuckles.
"Hey! There's absolutely nothing wrong with the name Rikku! Any island would be proud to be called Rikku!" She glared at her father without any heat as he wiped his eyes of tears.
"Your sudran would have agreed... though not on letting you go out on your own," he said, and suddenly the tears of laughter had changed, so quickly it took her breath away. He was on her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close and holding her there, his hands shaking on her shoulders. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go away....
"It's okay, y'know, she'd be happy an' stuff, right?" She patted him on the back awkwardly, not used to the close affection anymore. Cid sighed and hugged his tempestuous daughter.
"She'd kick my ass," he said, but with a fondness in his misty eyes.
---
She was packing her trunk, trying to figure out what gear would be absolutely essential. A knock at the door caused her to look up. Tidus was leaning there, looking uncomfortable.
"Hey," he said simply. She beckoned and pointed to the bed, her mouth stuffed with a pair of socks she hadn't found a spot for, as she folded an extra wet-suit. He perched on the edge of her mattress, watching her as she crammed one last garment into the metal case before sitting on it with a faint hope of getting it to shut. All those doughnuts had to be worth something right about now.
"Yeah?" she asked, relieving her mouth of the blessedly clean socks.
"You leave tomorrow?" His words were clipped and short, sounding out of place coming from his easy mouth and open face. She frowned.
"Uh, yeah, Ty..."
"Let me come with you," he said quickly, "I can fight fiends, you know that, and it'll be like... y'know, going to Zanarkand but, not. I did say I'd take you there. I don't want you to think I pussed out on my promises, or nothing." She stared at him blankly as he babbled at her.
"But, Yunie-"
"I need to go." The words hung between them, awkward and sharply uncomfortable. His blue eyes sought hers, his hand wrapping around her fingers gently as he came to sit on the trunk, helping her close it.
"Oh..."
"Yeah."
A horribly gross can of worms, closed or opened. She was just glad it wasn't her that had managed to fall in love with the hapless Blitzballer. He was a little... complicated. At least she knew where she stood with Gippal, as far away as possible and with her ass-kicking combat boots on in case the man got any smart ideas.
"Hey, well, that's okay, everyone needs a bit of space sometimes." She smiled, determined to cheer him up despite whatever argument he'd had with Yuna today. Probably about something silly, and he's totally overreacting... she snorted inwardly. /They're like puppies in a basket/. Tidus looked painfully relieved.
"You're not going to regret it," he said with a grin, resembling his old self. Maybe time away from everyone would be good. It would be just the two of them plus her band of merry (hot) men, up to tricks and mayhem like old times on the Pilgrimage. Without the phrase Yunie is going to die beating a steady tattoo in her head. And away from the people who... clouded the issue.
Even if Yuna would never in a million years forgive her.
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