I don't own 10-2 of any of the Final Fantasy games.
Chapter 1
I hate mornings
That dreaded time of day when you have to get out of a nice, soft warm bed and get on with your life
And mines duller that most. Sure post Sin Spira is more cheerful, more open minded and more inquisitive but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
This morning is no different. I'm awake at some ungodly hour, doze till its more godly get up out of my simple bed with too hard a mattress put my feet on the cold hard flagstones and begin the process of looking human rather than just being one.
The process begins in the bathroom down the hall where I wash my face with some strange smelling soap, brush my teeth with very minty toothpaste and comb my hair into some sort of order. Following that I apply a discreet amount of foundation to cover the bags under my eyes so I don't look like I woke up at four in the morning.
Once my face is on I travel back to my humble abode dragging my feet along lazily. It's too early to walk properly.
Back in my room I pick up my garment gird, an inexpensive first steps, activate it and am transformed into my Red Mage gear complete with twin staffs which channel magical opposites.
They say a dressphere manifests itself by the wearer's style and self esteem along with the dresspheres related stats. So I was in a knee length cowgirl style off the shoulder dress with matching boots up to my knees, a red cowgirl hat with tassels in all directions and a coat that swished just above the ground.
Practical and Stylish.
Traipsing out of my room careful to lock the door properly my heels clicking as I go, I take a trip to the kitchen abuzz of activity even at six am and probably the only people awake as early as me.
A few hellos and several steps later I am holding the most precious substance known to man forged in heaven by God her/himself: Coffee.
Sipping it slowly, enjoying the slightly bitter but warming taste trickle down my throat. I list today's tasks in my mind and set off from the kitchens to my current assignment.
The halls of knowledge are vast with great libraries, relicts and artefacts by the Shoopuff load. Extensive racks of spheres are also housed here but sadly I am but a mid level acolyte and require permission of a priest and getting their attention puts my agenda at risk
Stepping into one of the many sub-libraries I locate the papers I need from the neatly organised rack take a random desk pre-equipped with quill and inkwell. Rifling through the slim pile now on the desk, run my finger down a long list get up and select the book that is required from the Q shelf. A thickly bound volume with no distinguishing marks like nearly every other book here.
I haul it back to my desk and examine the book in details feeling the ridges and bumps of the tome flip it and examine the back then return it to its rightful way up looking at me ominously as I debate my next move.
Reaching a decision in no time. I change from the rouge of the Red Mage to the navy of the Time Mage the star dusted surcoat shorter than the Red Mages, knee high boots and a dress the same style star dusted with a wide brimmed, pointy hat.
A question I often ask is why the Time Mage can learn scan it, doesn't make sense. Pushing that thought aside I wave my staff over the book stare at the result. I Resume the Red Mage garb and lift up the cover knowing this was going to end in tears.
I know it's going to happen but I'm still surprised when the cover was suddenly forced back and in a flash of light a fiend explodes out of the book and is bearing down on me. Why me?
Steeling myself to fight I run over the information from the scan. Quinal Locon, Sacred Beast Class, 100,000 HP, 2000 MP No weaknesses Immune to status effects.
I stopped myself, focused on the battle, activated my third final and only physical dressphere and waded in weapon a-flying.
Thanks to my little spat with a 20ft beast the library is now a bombsite.
Desks overturned and legs snapped, the rack of papers has been broken, its contents scattered, books litter the floor but have the decency to remain closed. The book the monster came from is still on my desk which is still the correct way up, the book on the contents page and my papers are still in a neat pile. What are the odds?
Eyebrow raised in bemusement, cuts and bruises all gone thanks to my white magic staff I set about tidying up. Desks to be righted, papers to order, books to be alphabetised. The fun morning I planned
I step around the wreckage. This happens a lot so theres wood glue near the rack which pretty much fixes the desks and the rack itself. The papers are all mine, parts of my current assignment with all fiends of one letter tagged together so they just need to be ordered by letter. Then starting at A I move round the library putting books back on their shelves and in alphabetical order. The upside of being an early riser no-one but myself is in danger from a fiend's rude awakening.
By the time other acolytes of Yevon are milling about I'm at my desk as I have been day after day compiling a bestiary of every fiend ever known. I've been doing this damned task for four months and been in Yevons new halls for fourteen months. Spending time compiling fiend report after report is tiring especially when this morning's encounter is a fact of life.
It's had an adverse effect on my mood according to overheard conversation I've gone from broodily solemn to brooding misery guts. At least I'm still brooding. That's a good sign I'm still me.
This task's been a bitch since I started it. My first morning I was onset by an Adamantoise at precisely ten o'clock in a library full of people going about their business. That did nothing for my popularity.
And I was already in a particularly bad mood that morning thanks to a finger nail in my coffee. People must thinks is funny to leave fiends trapped in books to kill unsuspecting readers. Every book I pick up now is scanned before it is opened.
The incident with the Adamantoise did help as when I got back to my room someone had left a crystal bangle and a ribbon with a note reading 'You'll probably need them' written in crisp black handwriting and no name so I couldn't write a thank you note. And though I've never come across a fiend I couldn't kill they have been incredibly useful and have saved my kikister more than once and I haven't been able to tell the person I'm grateful for their kindness.
That sucks
Speaking of people rumour has it the Praetor is doing an inspection today
So here I am in the fiend library of New Yevon up to my eyes in books about Fiends whose names begin with Q. The only other people here are two low level acolytes cross referencing information on historical figures and their fiend conquests within a non-fiend infested book. I scanned it just to be safe and have time to prepare if another fiend sprung out and tried to kill us all.
So what I'm bitter. Wouldn't you be?
Every letter can be another bruise and bloody adventure
Only nine more letters after Q.