Disclaimer: Final Fantasy X, Spira, blitzball, and all related characters and locations are owned by Squaresoft, with the exception of a few original characters who will be noted as such. This is a work of fanfiction, meaning that it is both created by a fan for no purpose other than entertainment, and it is fiction, meaning that all characters and events are purely fictonal and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All right, people, you asked for it and I finally got around to delivering it. Linna's back.
I've tried to have things make some sense so if you're new to the storyline, you'll have SOME idea what's going on. However, I highly recommend that if you haven't already, you go read the fic on which this one is based, "Hey, Green Eyes." I don't think you'll regret it--it wasn't *that* bad...
Author's Note: The narrator of this story is Al Bhed, and some dialogue and idiomatic phrases have not been translated into English. Translations of all Al Bhed phrases can be found at the end of the chapter in which they appear.
Green Eyes in Overdrive
by flame mage
prologue: Stoic
**********
SLAM!
A flash of red and black and white reeled backwards through the clear blue water. Bubbles shot toward the surface of the sphere and the figure of a man slowly separated itself out from the whirl and floated in the fetal position before searing forward again.
The orange-gold blur was still streaking toward one of the radial points of the sphere. The rough shape of a white triangle was getting closer. Twenty yards...fifteen...ten...all of a sudden, a blue and white ball hurtled straight at the heart of that goal. The shot was point- blank. Blocking it would be all but impossible. The numbers flashed in gold on the clock: 9:57. 9:58.
A white-gloved hand shot out and snatched the ball. The buzzer rang.
*****
Rumo cred.
The lights in the theater flickered on. I groaned and blinked. Bickson was already on his feet, removing the movie sphere from the base of the stand and stretching. The electronic menu flickered and shut off.
"All right, Linna. You impressed yet?" he asked me.
"Oh, yeah, man, lemme tell ya. Those are the Spira Spirals, huh?" I asked.
"Yep." He tossed the sphere up into the air, caught it behind his back, and started heading for the door. I sighed, leaned my head back for one last second of luxury in those gorgeous plush seats, and followed.
I was on my weekly trip to Luca--two days out of every seven, whether I needed it or not--and my boyfriend had spent the day showing me home movies straight out of his head, courtesy of the Luca sphere theater. The last one had been a tape of a blitzball game he'd played in when he was in the minor leagues, playing for a short-lived team called the Spira Spirals. The team had gone kaput when the Yevon temple disbanded it with no warning. The goalie had gone kaput, period.
"You've come a long way since then, street rat," I commented. "That botched tackle nearly cost you the game. I can't believe that sucker from the Moombas got the ball from you."
He raised his hands palm-up like he was fending me off. "Yeah, well, I was a kid. These were the minor leagues, remember?"
"That goalie didn't look too minor-league to me."
"Reppi? Ha. Yeah. She saved my ass out there that day." We were making our way through the reception room now. He reached out as we passed the desk and dropped the sphere down a little chute in the side.
"Too bad she ain't playing now. I'd probably sign her. Goalies like that are hard to come by. That save--tysh. That was incredible. Nimrook couldn't do that."
"She was pretty hardcore for the minors. Most blitzball goalies really aren't that great. It's too bad that--" Bickson broke off. "--well, forget it. C'mon, let's go to Mitza's and get a burger or something. I'm starving, and the Goers have practice tonight."
"Yeah, us too. Sucks, doesn't it? I commute all the way down here from Besaid and we've gotta spend the whole time busting our butts at practice."
Bick shrugged. "It's a living."
We were out in the main lobby now. The place was jammed with the usual crowd--idiots hawking blitz souveneirs, street musicians trying to make a buck, O'aka stumbling around with his inane accent hitting on chicks like they didn't notice his stupid hat or something. Something caught my eye, though--in the corner, a man dressed in the long red, green and white robes of a Yevonite priest was inserting a pile of movie spheres one by one into a strange hand-held machina. "What's that guy doing?" I whispered to Bickson.
He glanced over. "The priests come by once in a while and view the spheres," he answered. "Just to make sure there's nothing sinful or anti-Yevon in people's memories. That thing he has is a sphere-viewer. The spheres are coming from that chute in the other room. He'll look some of them over and reroute them into storage."
My back probably straightened automatically. I have green eyes and blonde hair. I wear goggles and operate heavy machinery. I'm Al Bhed, and most of the Yevonite priests want me dead. "Little creepy, don't ya think?" I asked.
Bickson laughed. "Hardly, babe. I got nothing to hide." He stuck out a casual hand to hold the door open for me. "Ready to get outta here?"
"Yeah, let's bail." I slipped through the door and followed him out onto the long, crowded causeway that led back to the great city of Luca. I only glanced back once--just in time to see the priest lift Bickson's sphere off the pile with long, gnarled fingers and set it into a viewer.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it all began.
**********
Translations:
"Rumo cred." - "Holy shit."
All right, people, you asked for it and I finally got around to delivering it. Linna's back.
I've tried to have things make some sense so if you're new to the storyline, you'll have SOME idea what's going on. However, I highly recommend that if you haven't already, you go read the fic on which this one is based, "Hey, Green Eyes." I don't think you'll regret it--it wasn't *that* bad...
Author's Note: The narrator of this story is Al Bhed, and some dialogue and idiomatic phrases have not been translated into English. Translations of all Al Bhed phrases can be found at the end of the chapter in which they appear.
Green Eyes in Overdrive
by flame mage
prologue: Stoic
**********
SLAM!
A flash of red and black and white reeled backwards through the clear blue water. Bubbles shot toward the surface of the sphere and the figure of a man slowly separated itself out from the whirl and floated in the fetal position before searing forward again.
The orange-gold blur was still streaking toward one of the radial points of the sphere. The rough shape of a white triangle was getting closer. Twenty yards...fifteen...ten...all of a sudden, a blue and white ball hurtled straight at the heart of that goal. The shot was point- blank. Blocking it would be all but impossible. The numbers flashed in gold on the clock: 9:57. 9:58.
A white-gloved hand shot out and snatched the ball. The buzzer rang.
*****
Rumo cred.
The lights in the theater flickered on. I groaned and blinked. Bickson was already on his feet, removing the movie sphere from the base of the stand and stretching. The electronic menu flickered and shut off.
"All right, Linna. You impressed yet?" he asked me.
"Oh, yeah, man, lemme tell ya. Those are the Spira Spirals, huh?" I asked.
"Yep." He tossed the sphere up into the air, caught it behind his back, and started heading for the door. I sighed, leaned my head back for one last second of luxury in those gorgeous plush seats, and followed.
I was on my weekly trip to Luca--two days out of every seven, whether I needed it or not--and my boyfriend had spent the day showing me home movies straight out of his head, courtesy of the Luca sphere theater. The last one had been a tape of a blitzball game he'd played in when he was in the minor leagues, playing for a short-lived team called the Spira Spirals. The team had gone kaput when the Yevon temple disbanded it with no warning. The goalie had gone kaput, period.
"You've come a long way since then, street rat," I commented. "That botched tackle nearly cost you the game. I can't believe that sucker from the Moombas got the ball from you."
He raised his hands palm-up like he was fending me off. "Yeah, well, I was a kid. These were the minor leagues, remember?"
"That goalie didn't look too minor-league to me."
"Reppi? Ha. Yeah. She saved my ass out there that day." We were making our way through the reception room now. He reached out as we passed the desk and dropped the sphere down a little chute in the side.
"Too bad she ain't playing now. I'd probably sign her. Goalies like that are hard to come by. That save--tysh. That was incredible. Nimrook couldn't do that."
"She was pretty hardcore for the minors. Most blitzball goalies really aren't that great. It's too bad that--" Bickson broke off. "--well, forget it. C'mon, let's go to Mitza's and get a burger or something. I'm starving, and the Goers have practice tonight."
"Yeah, us too. Sucks, doesn't it? I commute all the way down here from Besaid and we've gotta spend the whole time busting our butts at practice."
Bick shrugged. "It's a living."
We were out in the main lobby now. The place was jammed with the usual crowd--idiots hawking blitz souveneirs, street musicians trying to make a buck, O'aka stumbling around with his inane accent hitting on chicks like they didn't notice his stupid hat or something. Something caught my eye, though--in the corner, a man dressed in the long red, green and white robes of a Yevonite priest was inserting a pile of movie spheres one by one into a strange hand-held machina. "What's that guy doing?" I whispered to Bickson.
He glanced over. "The priests come by once in a while and view the spheres," he answered. "Just to make sure there's nothing sinful or anti-Yevon in people's memories. That thing he has is a sphere-viewer. The spheres are coming from that chute in the other room. He'll look some of them over and reroute them into storage."
My back probably straightened automatically. I have green eyes and blonde hair. I wear goggles and operate heavy machinery. I'm Al Bhed, and most of the Yevonite priests want me dead. "Little creepy, don't ya think?" I asked.
Bickson laughed. "Hardly, babe. I got nothing to hide." He stuck out a casual hand to hold the door open for me. "Ready to get outta here?"
"Yeah, let's bail." I slipped through the door and followed him out onto the long, crowded causeway that led back to the great city of Luca. I only glanced back once--just in time to see the priest lift Bickson's sphere off the pile with long, gnarled fingers and set it into a viewer.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it all began.
**********
Translations:
"Rumo cred." - "Holy shit."