Author's Note: Ok, uh, so this... I'm not quite sure what this is. Just something I threw together one day when I was bored at work.
Yeah, yeah, usual disclaimer: I do not, have not, will not, in part or as a whole, own Final Fantasy XI in any way shape or form. I merely borrow it as a medium to display my peculiar insanity. Thank you kindly.
And without any further adieu (yes, adieu), let the madness begin...
And Now For Something Completely Different...
What the Final Fantasy XI
The Intro
Vivli was lost and confused.
Being as lost and confused as she was, it was no surprise then that she had no idea where she was or what was going on. She appeared to be in the middle of a vast sprawling desert, but that did not make much sense to her, for just a few short moments ago, she had been home, eating lunch.
"Where have you been?" asked a voice that was just a bit too close, taking her completely by surprise and giving her a rather uncomfortable fright.
She whirled around to stare at the rather large bulky being that stood behind her.
Well, not directly behind her. Perhaps just a little behind and mostly to the left.
She would have undoubtedly screamed if it wasn't for the rather slight and surprising sense of recognition that she discovered she felt. Despite this recognition, however, she chose to ask the obvious question, "Who are you?"
He grunted, and replied, "You realize that, for asking such a stupid question, I'm gonna have to pull your tail." He paused as he suddenly realized a startling sudden realization. "Where's your tail?"
"I don't have a tail," replied Vivli rather indignantly, wishing he wouldn't stare so closely at her behind.
"What happened to it?" he asked, though he did not sound all that concerned. He seemed to be slightly amused as he added, "A Mithra without a tail is like... I don't know. A chocobo without its feathers. Or a summoner without a horn. Or Voldos without his ridiculous ability to offend most of the female population of every race."
Vivli shook her head, mostly in an attempt to shake free the dizzying sensation of utter confusion that threatened to overtake her mind. "I never had a tail," she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm not a Mithra."
He appeared to be confused as well as he said, "But you're Vivli."
Vivli nodded. "And you're Bootus, which is insane, because you're not real."
The Galka stared at her for a moment, then reached out a hand and pinched her.
"Ow!" she understandably exclaimed, "What the hell!"
"I seem real enough," replied Bootus with a smirk.
"But you can't be," she told him, which in itself was not very impressive proof of her former statement.
"What if you're not real?" countered Bootus, "How can we be arguing? What if you're not really Vivli? You're not even Mithra. So who are you?"
"I'm not the Mithra Vivli!" she replied a bit too loudly, "I'm the author Vivli! You're not real because I made you up. You're in my stories."
"Then what am I doing here?" he asked, a bit too calmly for someone who wasn't supposed to exist, "And why do you live in a desert?"
"I don't live in a dessert," she said.
"Desert," he corrected.
"I don't know where we are," she added miserably, wishing she had been able to finish her lunch.
"It looks like Valkurm," replied Bootus thoughtfully, "Perhaps we should head for Selbina. And if you're the author Vivli, why did you write a story with a pathetic little girly girl named Vivli? A bit vain, ain'tcha, using your own name for a character whom you've failingly attempted to make the central hero, when she's so weak and useless. Besides, it's plainly obvious that I'm the main protagonist of your adventures."
"Your previous statement should have a question mark at the end," she told him, "And my name isn't really Vivli. That's my pen name. It's also the name of the character I made when I played the game."
"Game?" echoed Bootus, "That doesn't make any sense. Why would you name a character after a pen? And who names their pens anyway? What am I named after? The ink? Is that enough question marks for you?"
"Argh, you're aggravating," she understandably complained.
"Well perhaps you shouldn't have written me this way," countered Bootus as they began walking in a direction which may or may not have been towards Selbina.
"That's just it," she replied, "I'm not even writing right now. I've been taking a break from this whole writing thing."
"No wonder my limbs feel a bit stiff," muttered Bootus, "I haven't pounded in any Beastmen skulls for quite awhile."
"See, that right there," added Vivli, "I would not have written you saying that."
"Perhaps you would have if you didn't focus most of your attention on a pathetic little girly girl as the main character," replied the Galka a bit too quickly.
Vivli groaned. "Of all the characters I could have been stuck with, why did it have to be you?"
"Perhaps deep within your hearts you wanted to see me the most."
Vivli glanced at him. "Hearts? I'm a human, not a Time Lord. I only have one heart."
"Yeah, and you have a strange accent," commented Bootus, "Are you from Aht Urghan?"
"I don't write with an English accent!" she fairly exclaimed, obviously a sore point which she often found herself defending. She paused for a moment, her mind racing. "Wait a moment... I think I know who's doing this."
Bootus glanced at her. "Some nefarious evil villain, intent on destroying the world?"
She shook her head. "No. Another author. Lately, he's been writing stories with alternate realities and twisting plot points. I also imagine that he's quite ruggedly handsome and I'd like to have his babies." Vivli paused and shook her head rather vehemently, as if intent on freeing it from evil spirits. "Uggh," she said, "He obviously made me say that. What I was going to say was that I don't think he's quite right in the head."
"Ah, so the writer has become the writed," said Bootus in his best wise old man voice.
"I wish he'd stop writing this annoying bickering and just get to the point of this scene already," muttered the author known as Vivli.
Without warning, a rather large heavy object suddenly fell out of the sky, landing quite uncomfortably close to them with a sand-shifting thud.
Vivli had to blink a few more times than necessary to be sure that her brain was correctly registering what her eyes were actually seeing.
"Well, you don't see that everyday," remarked Bootus, a bit too casually for her liking.
It was a large sailing ship, its sails billowing slightly in the gentle desert breeze. It seemed quite out of place where it sat, in the middle of a sand dune.
Vivli wasn't really sure what she was about to say, yet she was interrupted nonetheless as a voice called down from above.
"Ahoy, ye land-lubberin' scurvy dogs! Sprecken avast yeselves upon yonder upwards conveyance, arrr!"
Vivli and Bootus exchanged glances.
"On a non-related topic," commented the Galka, "You seem a bit girly girlish yourself."
She just scowled at him as she began climbing the rope ladder that had been tossed down over the side of the ship.
"I'm just saying," added Bootus as he began to climb as well.
When they finally reached the top and were both standing firmly on the deck of the ship, they were approached by a rather tall lanky individual.
"Ahoy, ye land-lubber..." he paused and thought for a moment. "Wait," he added, apparently as an aside to himself, "It's not considered good form to repeat oneself when addressing others." Then to them he continued, "Forgive me, I'm new to this whole pirate thing. Don't quite have the terminology down yet. But welcome aboard me ship."
Bootus groaned, and even the author Vivli recognized the odd captain despite never having actually met him before.
"Crazy Steve?"
"A simple enough moniker," replied the Captain, "One that may or may not fit my form rather form-fittingly. I'd request to allow myself to introduce myself, but I see yourself has already introduced myself for myself. So, since it seems that only my self, your self and your self are presently accounted for, then introductions may not necessarily be needed, with the exception, of course, that I don't believe we've met."
Bootus sighed. "I'm Bootus," he said simply.
Steve glanced at the Galka's feet. "Ah, yes. Big boots are required."
"I'm, uh..." began Vivli, "I guess around here, I'm known as Vivli. I'm your author."
Steve stared at her oddly. "So I'm from your head, am I? Are you the one who gave me this, then?" He raised his arm, showing her the large hook he had in place of a hand.
"Urm... no," she replied slowly.
"Well, I guess I won't be needing it then," he continued, tossing the hook over the side of the boat, revealing that a perfectly good hand had been hidden within his sleeve.
Vivli stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "What's going on here?"
Steve squinted at her. "Where?" He glanced around. "Ah, yes. All this. You see, after much deliberation, anticipation, perspiration and hibernation, I came to the obvious conclusion and immediate decision of becoming a pirate. Yo ho ho and a barrel of rum, and all that. Though, I have not yet got meself a crew." He peered over the edge of the deck. "And now it appears that I haven't got any water." He glanced at them. "Which is a might peculiar, as I was almost fairly certain that I had enough water before. Hmmm..."
"Urm, that may be my fault," replied Vivli.
Crazy Steve glanced at her. "You took my water?"
She shook her head. "No. I, uh... it's hard to explain."
He shrugged. "I s'pose so. Ah well, so much for Pirate Captain Steve." He thought for a moment. "Maybe I'll become a Dwarf. I like their accent." He cleared his throat. "Ach, dae whit ye like wi them, Ah cannae eat since Ah got these wallies."
Vivli sighed. "I should probably get going."
Crazy Steve glanced at her. "Where?"
Bootus grunted. "It would probably be helpful if we knew where this story was going."
"I don't think even the author knows where this story is going," replied Vivli.
Steve grinned at her. "Ah like yer accent, lassie."
"I don't write with an English accent!" she exclaimed.
"Fair enough," said Crazy Steve, backing away slightly.
Bootus appeared to be in deep thought, which worried her a bit.
"You are a writer," the Galka told her, "Supposedly."
"Supposedly?" she echoed, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Bootus raised an eyebrow. "Girly girl main hero, remember?"
She scoffed. "You're just jealous because you weren't the main hero. Though, I'm starting to rethink writing about you at all. Maybe I'll just add a little death scene for you when I get back home. Trampled in a chocobo stampede, or something. How about that?"
"Forgive me my goddess, oh great one who gave me life," replied Bootus, not sounding very repentant at all, "The point I was trying to make, before you took unreasonable offense, was that, being a writer yourself, why don't you write a new direction for this story."
Vivli thought for a moment. "I'm not sure if I can from in here."
"Aha!" exclaimed Crazy Steve so suddenly that he startled her, "So you say you're trapped! With no way out but a table top and a peg leg! I believe I may be able to help you..."
He glanced at the sky. "...perhaps..."
He glanced at the deck of his ship. "...maybe..."
He glanced at Vivli. "...I think..."
"Anyway," he continued, "This reminds me of a time long ago, when I was but a wee lad. I was captured by Goblins, I was, and they were itchin' to do all manners of unsavory things to my person..."
Many years ago...
Crazy Steve and the Curse of the Black LinkPearl
It was a reasonably simple time, before the chaos of the Crystal War descended upon Vana'diel. Crazy Steve was but a wee lad then, dreaming grand romantic dreams of the sea, and of one day meeting a beautiful Merrow with glittering crimson scales.
One day he was out, digging for snails in the forest of Ronfaure, when Steve was suddenly set upon by three – no, four – fairly larger than average sized Goblins–
"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted the author known as Vivli, back in the present time, "What's going on here?"
"I believe that was a flashback," informed Bootus, a bit too amused for her liking.
Crazy Steve nodded. "Aye. I was but a wee lad then, when I was suddenly set upon by four–"
"We don't have time for flashbacks," complained Vivli, "I want to get on with this story, so I can finally get out of here and go home."
Before any of them had a reasonably sufficient amount of time to even think about reacting, a large object fell out of the sky and landed on the deck of the ship with a loud thud.
Only the author known as Vivli recognized the strange tall blue box that stood before them. The door opened and a strange tall man stepped out of the box, adjusting the brown felt hat on his head as he approached them, grinning broadly. His teeth were unnaturally white. He had brown curly hair and wore an extraordinarily long multi-colored scarf around his neck.
"Home, you say?" remarked the strange fellow, "What you want to do, then, is go to see the King. He'll help you on your way."
"The King?" stammered Vivli slowly, not quite sure what to think of this recent development, "Can't you just help me? Take me away in your... uh... I can't believe I'm going to say this, TARDIS?"
The newcomer shook his head. "Sorry, I can't guarantee your safe return. The TARDIS has been a bit erratic lately. Besides, it's not in my contract."
She blinked. "Contract?"
"Yes. I'm only required to point you in the right direction in your search for the lost King, and to give you this." He stepped forward and handed her a small object.
She glanced at it. It was a small whistle. "What's this?" she asked.
"Looks like a whistle," commented Bootus.
"It is a whistle," agreed the tall man.
"What's it for?" asked Vivli.
"What are whistles for?" asked Crazy Steve.
She stared at it for a moment, then put the whistle between her lips and blew.
It did not appear to make any sound whatsoever.
She stared at the odd newcomer expectantly. He just grinned at her, as if waiting for something.
Moments later, an object trundled out through the door of the tall blue box. It was a small grey metal robot in the shape of a dog.
"May I present K-9 Mark VII."
Vivli couldn't help but grin at the mechanical animal. It was so cute. "Seven?"
The tall man nodded. "The original K-9 stayed on a planet in a galaxy far, far away with a warrior woman named Leela." (Not to be confused with the one-eyed Leela who was captain of a delivery ship under the employ of Planet Express on Earth in the 31st century). "K-9 Mark II was damaged beyond repair and had to stay behind in E-Space with the Lady Romanadvoratrelundar. And I sent Mark III as a present to an old friend named Sarah Jane Smith on Earth."
Vivli glanced at him. "What about K-9s four, five, and six?"
He shrugged. "Don't really know. Must have been after my time. I am only the fourth Doctor, after all. Care for a jelly baby?" He offered them a small paper bag full of soft chewy gummy bear candies.
"No, that's alright. Thanks," replied Vivli. She stared at the whistle in her hand as what it signified began to sink in. "You're giving me K-9?"
The Doctor nodded. "Just to help in your quest for the King. I'll be back for him later, of course."
"The King?" said Vivli. She had nearly forgotten about that recently developed plot point. "Which King? Of San d'Oria?"
K-9 glided towards them. "Negative, Mistress," he replied a high tinny voice, "The only King that can help you return home. He is not of this planet."
"Not... from Vana'diel?" asked Bootus, not familiar with the concept of other planets other than his own.
"Then how will we find him?" asked Vivli.
"I am here to help you find him, Mistress," informed K-9.
"Well, my work here is done," announced the Doctor as he turned and walked back to his tall blue box. He opened the door and turned to give them all a big blinding grin. "Cheerio, and all that, then," he called, before disappearing inside. The door slammed shut behind him.
Bootus was scratching his head. "He's just going to stay in that little box?"
Vivli smiled knowingly. "It's not really all that little on the inside," she replied.
A moment later, an odd sound came from within the tall blue box and the small light on its top began to flash. Then it dematerialized before their very eyes, slowly fading until it had completely disappeared. The noise it made ceased shortly after it was gone.
Crazy Steve grunted. "What a way to travel," he said, but otherwise seemed to be rather unimpressed.
"Okay then, let's get this over with," began Vivli, glancing down at K-9, "So where do we start?"
"This way, Mistress," announced K-9 proudly as the cybernetic dog glided forward – and straight off the deck of the sailing ship.
"Oh no!" exclaimed Vivli, rushing to the edge of the deck.
"Ach, 'tis gon' doon!" yelled Crazy Steve.
"Ha!" laughed Bootus, "Stupid metal dog."
The author Vivli peered down over the side of the ship. She could see K-9 far below, upside down and half buried in the sand. "K-9!" she called, "Are you alright?"
"Affirmative, Mistress," came the rather faint reply.
Bootus was still grinning broadly. "You want to bring him back up? I'll go get the harpoon."
Vivli scowled at him. "No. We're going down to get him. Then we're leaving to find the King. This boat isn't going anywhere, so we'll have to find another way to travel."
"T'is nae a boat, lassie!" exclaimed Crazy Steve suddenly, "T'is the shipshapeiest ship ye're ever sure t'see!"
"Yeah," replied Bootus, "And if my grandmother had wheels, she'd be a wagon."
"You don't have a grandmother," Vivli told him.
"Well, if I did," said Bootus, "Wheels. Wagon. See previous statement."
Vivli would have no doubt given what she considered to be a rather witty yet terse reply if she had not noticed the Goblin that had suddenly appeared below.
The beastman was curiously poking K-9 with a stick.
"Hey!" she cried, "Stop that! Leave him alone!"
The Goblin glanced up at her, then raised a fist in defiance, his middle finger extended.
Vivli stared at him. "Did he just give me the finger?"
Bootus glanced down over the edge of the deck. "No, I believe he still has all his fingers."
"Did that little expletive deleted just flip me the bird?" growled Vivli as she rushed to the rope ladder that still hung over the side of the ship, "Why, that expletive deleted little expletive deleted ! When I get a hold of that expletive deleted , I'm gonna expletive deleted his expletive deleted right up his expletive deleted !"
Bootus sighed as he followed her down the rope ladder. "These ladders aren't built for my impressively muscled physique."
Crazy Steve appeared to be in deep thought as he stared at the Goblin below.
"A Goblin," he observed, "That reminds me of a time long ago, when I was but a wee lad. I was captured by Goblins, I was, and they were itchin' to do all manners of unsavory things to my person..."
Many years ago...
Crazy Steve and the Curse of the Bla–
"What did I say earlier?" exclaimed the author known as Vivli, "No flashbacks!"
At this point, the Goblin had already dug K-9 out of the sand and was attempting to drag the metal dog across the dune.
Vivli had reached the bottom and was about to give chase, when it suddenly came to her attention that she did not have a weapon of any kind.
"Crazy Canadian," she muttered, "How does the author expect me to survive in a desert like Valkurm?"
Nevertheless, she decided to chase after the Goblin anyway, as Bootus reached the bottom of the ladder and followed her.
"K-9!" she called, "Defend yourself! Shoot him with your nose!"
Bootus smirked. "His nose?"
Unfortunately, K-9 could not angle his head to the point necessary to aim the nozzle of his nose blaster at the Goblin Thug.
"Not a very agile thing, is it?" remarked Bootus, "It's just a metal box with a head and a tail."
Vivli ignored him, once again wishing she had some sort of weapon.
The Goblin was moving surprisingly fast across the shifting sands, despite the robot animal he was dragging behind him.
"Aarrgh," groaned Vivli, "Any weapon will do."
Being rather sympathetic to her plea, I, the author of this story, chose to concede to her wishes and have it suddenly revealed that a weapon had been hidden within her tunic the entire time.
"How convenient," muttered Vivli, as she reached into her tunic to pull out a rather large, silver...
Salad fork?
"Bloody hell," she groaned, and Bootus nearly stumbled with laughter as he ran beside her.
"Laugh it up, furball," she told him, "From this moment on, I'm writing you as a weak pathetic wimp with nothing but a blunt farming instrument as a weapon."
Bootus shrugged, yet the grin remained. "Do your worst."
"And I'm making Vivli a confident and powerful summoner," added the author Vivli, "You'll be taking orders from her, and performing menial tasks for her amusement."
The Galka's grin quickly faded. "Give me that," he grunted, grabbing the fork from her.
"Hey, you expletive deleted !" he roared at the rapidly receding Goblin Thug.
The Goblin glanced over his shoulder as he raced across the desert sand, dragging the helpless K-9 behind him.
Bootus chose that moment to lean forward, and with a mighty swing of his arm, he hurled the silver salad fork with such force that it shot through the air, tearing into the Goblin's left eye and embedding itself into his brain.
The Goblin stumbled, and fell to the ground, dead. His limbs were still twitching slightly when they reached him.
"Nice throw," praised Vivli, and after a moment, she added, "And also: eewww."
She bent down to help tilt K-9 right side up. "Are you alright?" she asked.
"Affirmative, Mistress," replied K-9, his tiny antenna ears turning from side to side atop his head.
Vivli couldn't help but grin at the mechanical animal. It was so cute.
"So what's our big plan, then?" asked Crazy Steve.
Vivli jumped and stared at him. "Where'd you come from?"
"My mother, I'd expect," replied the would-be pirate as he dusted the sand off his elaborately designed authentic pirate overcoat.
She shook her head. "I mean, how'd you get here so fast? I thought you were still on the ship."
Steve gave what he assumed was his most charming smile. "Ah, a pirate never gives away his secrets, milady," he declared, quickly adding, "Chocobo, anyone?"
Vivli now noticed that there were three chocobo waiting anxiously nearby.
To be continued...
"Aw, bloody hell," muttered Vivli.
Author's Log, Supplemental: Additional disclaimer: I also don't own any sort of copyright to Doctor Who.
Cheerio, and all that, then.