Well, here is the next installment to the FFXII version of Random Bits. I guess this would be considered the sequal to FF12:RB 00. I think this is the first out of the entire RB series to have a sequal. Enjoy reading!

FFXII: Random Bits 01

: Setting - After dropping Ashe off at the palace the remaining companions beat a hasty retreat into the vast emptiness of the Westersands. With a good head start on any pursuers, the Occuria have seen fit to have a little jest…which just so happens to involve a large flock of dive talon and the engine intake. :

: Location - Somewhere in the Westersands. After and abrupt landing our heroes have ventured into the cargo hold for tools and parts to repair the clogged engine. And because the Occuria like a good laugh, the group is about to encounter more trouble. :

The lights dimmed and flickered. Upon first acquiring the Strahl, Balthier had come up with a few ideas about power and fuel, which at the time had seemed rather clever. He had modified the ship's main power and fuel requirements, then sat back reveling in his genius. One of the main drawbacks to having everything connected to one power source rose from the murky waters of panic and with a malign grin, bit the sky pirate in the bum.

"Quick! Make for the door!" Balthier commanded, dropping his armload of tools.

The ship's passengers ran for the doors. In the confusion of wildly flickering lights and motion, Balthier and his friends did a near perfect impression of an old stop motion claymation movie, or a night club under a strobe light. The lights died suddenly, plunging the frantic group into utter darkness punctuated only by eye jittering after-images. It was then that Someone tangled his legs with Someone else, who fell on The Person Next to Them and caused a five man, one girl, and one viera pileup. There were a few soft groans from throats belonging to those who had had the good fortune of landing on the floor, or someone soft, and a few louder and more pain filled groans of those who had either landed on a certain fully armored Judge Magister, or been landed on by him.

When deprived of the sense of Sight, it is widely known that the remaining senses of Touch, Sound, Taste and Smell are heightened. Others believe that there is a sixth sense called ESP, which can also become more acute when the other sense are not available. This is considered a bonus because the seventh sense, or Common sense gets so little use that anytime one of the other senses goes down, Common sense usually goes with it. Thus it was that Balthier realized that someone's hand was draped over his thigh.

Seeing (or not since the room was pitch black) as how the hand lacked any wickedly long claws, the flamboyant pirate knew (with a bit of disappointed vanity) that the hand was not Fran's. Since it was not armored, it couldn't have belonged to Basch, for which Balthier was immensely grateful. This hand was small, so that ruled out Vaan. This meant that there were only two possibilities left. Said hand belonged to either a) Penelo, which though not his first choice was at least female, or b) Larsa, who was firstly male, and secondly male. His brain threatened to spontaneously combust at the thought while his stomach crinkled up like old parchment and clung to his spine for protection. Please let whoever is touching me be female!, he prayed fervently.

It was at this point that Common sense failed Balthier. He opened his mouth, and in a playful tone said,

"Fran, that had better be your hand touching me." This comment was met with a ringing silence in which he could feel the searing gaze of the viera female's glare. He was suddenly very glad that it wasn't, because her long sharp claws would have ensured that he walked with a permanent and very painful limp for the rest of his life. Luckily he never found out who the hand belonged to, which he considered a blessing because the darkness became filled with Voices.

"Fran, could you get your heel out of my ear?" Vaan pleaded.

"Basch, your knee is in my eye."

"Your pardon my lord, but I believe you are resting quite heavily on my head."

"No, that's me. Sorry." answered the voice of Penelo.

"Your pardon." Basch grunted with a mighty heave as he sat up. It had to have been him because no one else rattled like a can with rocks in it. The group fell into the ritual of rising to their respective feet and then flailing around hesitantly (because you never know what you might touch).

Once everyone had gotten their various appendages sorted out, there was a brief game of Name that Voice. This entailed random individuals calling out random names in an attempt to locate their companions through sound alone. There were two problems with this game 1) you only get a very rough idea of where the voices are coming from because in total darkness there is no such thing as direction (including up or down), distance, time, or personal space, and 2) with everyone shouting at once, it is hard to hear.

With all the members of the party roughly located, the companions formed a tight group, which was achieved by stumbling in a random direction until they collided with someone else until everyone was found…like a giant game of 'Blob'. With great care the trapped humes and viera sat on the floor. There was a moment of silence as all present fought the urge to rush blindly about in search of the exit. No one wanted to get lost and run into the many terrors the dark definitely held. Namely the contents of overturned boxes, random items scattered on the floor (like tangled garden hoses, broken milk crates, and tin buckets), or the precariously balanced and much overloaded rack of tools.

Their world had now shrunk to nothing but a collection of Voices and the space behind their eyes. It is said that each mind is it's own world, and it can be a very frightening experience to suddenly find yourself in your own head. This is because painfully embarrassing memories, past wrongs, confusing childhood fears, and visions of walking in on Aunt Martha in the shower lurk on the borders of consciousness, ready to spring out. As it was, some of them found nothing but vast emptiness…no names will be mentioned.

"What are we going to do?" the voice of Penelo queried from somewhere off to Balthier's left.

"We could try looking for the door." Basch suggested solemnly, without a hint of sarcasm, also from Balthier's left. That meant that he was either sitting on top of the girl or somewhere beside her.

"What? You mean grope around blindly, without any idea of where we are?" the girl replied incredulous. "You saw all the sharp and very dangerously balanced junk in here. Not mention it's dark as a cave. I heard people get lost in caves and wander around in circles and starve to death…only feet from the exit."

"I heard that after two weeks, you loose your eyes." Larsa added, causing a thoughtful pause in the conversation.

"You mean they fall out, or something?" Vaan slowly asked from somewhere across from Balthier.

"No. They film over like an elderly blind man's eyes." the heir to the Solidor Legacy replied.

"How long have we been in here?" the apprentice sky pirate asked in a slightly worried tone. Balthier snorted, "Only close to five minutes."

"How do you know that? It could have been hours or,..or days."

"That's it. I say we find the door and get the heck out of here!" Vaan snapped.

"It won't do us one jot of good." said Balthier in that overly casual tone of someone with some overly depressing news.

"What? Why not?"

And here it was. Time to confess that he had been less than intelligent in his decisions for DIY improvements.

"Well, you see, the controls are linked to the Strahl's main power source. All of them. Even the doors." he added the last bit somewhat maliciously as he felt the Mouth of Vaan open to protest.

"You mean we're stuck in here!?"

"Alas, we are."

"Well, I don't know about you," Vaan retorted, "But I'm no girl!"

"Don't worry, the emergency power should…" the fastidious pirate faltered, mentally thrown off balance as the meaning of the boy's statement elbowed, shoved, and cut its way to the fore of his thoughts.

In the privacy of the darkness, Fran smiled in amusement as her meticulous partner sputtered at the teen's lack of vocabulary. The viera did her very best to hide the fact that she found Balthier to be highly amusing. It was a daily struggle. The young pirate would do something or turn a phrase that would make it very hard indeed for Fran to keep a straight face, or limit herself to a thin smile. She did this because her partner was one of those naturally entertaining people, who if told 'You know, you're really funny!' would completely ruin it by trying to be funny. There would be no living with him.

"I said 'alas', not 'a lass'." Balthier was saying, "As in sadly, disappointingly, or otherwise most regrettably. It has nothing in common with 'a lass', other than an unfortunate homophonic quality. And that's homophonic, not homophobic." the Archadian pirate said crisply, before there were anymore misinterpretations.

"Balthier, how long before the auxiliary power switches on?" Larsa asked, because he was just a kid and had a short attention span.

"Not too long, my lordling." the dashing pirate replied confidently.

They waited, then waited some more. Then they waited a little longer. Balthier could feel five pairs of eyes boring into him…in an accusing manner. Never one to give into embarrassment, or loose his cool, Balthier suggested a game, "Let's see…One person says a word, starting with the letter 'A', and then the next person says a word starting with 'B', and so on. First person who is unable to make a real word with their letter, loses and has to remove one article of clothing."

There was a disapproving grunt from Fran. "Okay, they just lose then. Take all the fun out of it why don't you. I'll start…Amazing. Alright, Fran it's your turn."

"Betrapped."

"Confined."

"Detained."

"Ensnared."

"…uh,…Fully ensnared."

"All right, all right! Point taken, and that one doesn't count because it's two words, Vaan." Balthier muttered as his Pride slunk off to lick it's wounds. "I suppose we can try to find the door." This idea was met much more favorably, and after a shaky start, where everyone tried to reach out to the person next them (without having their hands wander into any 'restricted areas'), they managed to form a hume (and one viera) chain. With that done, a certain amount of shifting followed as the male members tried to avoid holding the hand of another male.

Larsa ended up holding hands with Basch (a.k.a. Gabranth, Judge Magister, and Sir). The young lord raised no complaint, however because 1) he had the surprising level of maturity sometimes seen in children and teens, 2)Basch was wearing gauntlets, so their hands weren't actually touching, and 3) Larsa was not a homophone. The prisoners of the Strahl's cargo hold were just assembling themselves into a reasonably straight line, when Penelo poured the Cold Waters of Reality onto the Fires of Hope. "Wait. Even if we find the door, we can't open it, right?"

"I suppose not." Balthier admitted, "If we had, in our possession, a pry bar (which is often erroneously referred to as a crowbar), we might be able to winkle the door open." There was, in fact, on such device lying serenely in its wall bracket right behind Larsa, but unfortunately due to current circumstances, went entirely unnoticed. Oh, the irony.

"Seeing as how we are lacking this item," Fran said calmly, "Our only option is to break down the door." the viera, knowing very well her companion's mind, felt like she was reading along with a mental script. She felt the young man tense as he gasped, appalled, "Break…Break down the door!? Are you daft? I won't allow it!" Let me make myself absolutely, without a doubt, and most abundantly clear: We are not doing anything that will scrape or otherwise cause damage to my ship."

Fran was ready, and appealed to Balthier's vanity. "Well and good then. But just remember your spare clothes and the shower are on the other side of the door. Along with your razor." For a few heartbeats there was nothing but the sound that might be made by six pairs of eyes blinking in the darkness. "Well, let's find that door, shall we? Can't stand around in here all day, you know." Balthier said brightly, opting for a life of clean clothes and personal hygiene.

Fran knew her ploy had been destined for success. The sky pirate was a highly fastidious man, spending more time primping than a teenaged girl. He could fuss for a good hour, or more in the bathroom every morning, making certain that every hair, earring, ring, and bracelet was in perfect place. He was the only hume male, that Fran knew of, who owned a jewelry box. If Ivalice had had such a word, Balthier would have best been described as metro sexual.

Since Balthier was the Leading Man, he naturally assumed the role of Line Leader. Although undocumented, through out classroom history, there have been countless, and often bloody battles for the position of Line Leader. Children have developed a vast array of strategies to attain the honor, including: biting, pinching, shoving, slapping, spitting, whining, screaming, stomping and the dreaded Temper Tantrum. The Temper Tantrum is by far the worst. It combines any number of strategies and throws in crying, ear-splitting shrieking, throwing self on ground, and pants-wetting.

Next in line was Fran, then Vaan, Penelo, Larsa, and finally, Basch. Vaan was very unhappy about Larsa holding Penelo's other hand. The boy was in direct violation of several OOBS (Over-protective Older Brother Standards, if you've forgotten), including those related to Touching Adopted Sister, Being in a Dark Room with Adopted Sister, and Breathing Same Air as Adopted Sister. As irksome as the situation was, there was nothing Vaan could do about it. One reason was that he dared not let go of Fran's or Penelo's hand to Remedy the situation, and risk getting lost in the sucking darkness. The other reason was the mountain of impressively intimidating armor at the end of the line (a.k.a., the Caboose).

Vaan was never quite sure of where he stood with Basch. The man was always so stoic most of the time, and like a real caboose, rattled, clanked, and tended to walk behind the Royalty (at the regulation five paces, of course. It was only proper). He was always so calm and composed, but Vaan often wondered if there wasn't a homicidal maniac lurking under that carefully neutral expression. Quite possibly, one day, the seemingly good-natured man would snap and kill the lot of them with only his bare hands, or a tightly rolled newspaper whittled to a point.

Balthier ventured forth (or slightly to the right. It was hard to tell in the dark), and located a wall by desperately flapping an arm around in front of him until his hand contacted a solid surface. The entire process then had to be repeated because, although quite solid and possessing a certain monolithic quality, Basch was not considered a wall.

After finding a real wall, the Leading Man followed it until he found what his fingers told him was a door frame. He alerted his fellows, and it was quickly decided that Basch would be the one to do the breaking. It would have been rude to ask a woman, or a child to do it, and the Leading Man was above grunt work. Balthier tugged on the living chain to give the man an idea of where the door was. The Judge stepped out of line and charged in a cacophony of clanging armor, leaving his companions to get out of the way as best they could.

Balthier felt the rush of wind and sound that told him he had just narrowly missed becoming very wide, and very, very thin. There was a sound like a wet bull smacking against the inside of a dumpster, and the entire ship shook to its core. A clunk! echoed from the bowels of the ship, and the lights suddenly blazed to life. Gasps and curses fill the room as pupils, dilated for so long, contracted painfully to block out the searing light.

Grinning brilliantly, Balthier picked himself up from where he'd fallen (dramatically, of course. There's no sense in doing something unless you do it with flair), and was just about to smirk triumphantly at what was sure to be a now open door. The smile crumbled off his face as he realized that his fingers had lied to him. What Basch had just rammed was not the door, but one of the many decorative recessed panels of metal that had seemed like a good design choice at the time. The door, in fact, was five feet to Balthier's left, and had been open the entire time.

Embarrassed silence descended like a sack of bricks, leaving Batlhier's ego shattered. The silence became a little heavier as the other prisoners noticed the open door. He could see them thinking "You utter pillock!" Luckily, a distraction presented itself. "Did I open it?" the distraction groaned from where it lay, dazed on the floor.

"Oh, it's definitely open." Balthier replied quickly as he helped the mildly concussed man to his feet and turned him towards the door. "Jolly good job, right everyone?" He gave the others a meaningful look.

"Yeah. Great job!"

"Nicely done!"

"Splendid!"

"Way to go Basch!"

Smiling in the dreamy way that usually accompanies significant cranial trauma, the Judge tottered proudly out. The remaining friends stood around a few seconds more in awkward silence. Various sidelong glances were exchanged. After a moment Balthier said, diplomatically, "Well, thank you everyone for participating in this little experiment. Lord Larsa, I trust that you were satisfied with the results and will be sending them off to your royal engineers? I am sure that they will be quite eager to know that hooking up all devices to a single power source has considerable drawbacks."

Larsa looked at the dashing young man and his perfectly schooled expression of utter confidence. He replied, "I will have my best men examine the results and make sure that each ship is built according to the specifications. I must say that this was quite an exciting breakthrough. I commend your efforts." They shook hands, avoiding each others' eyes.

End.

Anyone up for a game of Murder in the Dark? Has anyone ever played this game before? Have any of you even heard of it? I'll stop rambling...