Project ID: Bottles of Summer
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X, or Final Fantasy X-2.
Commercials: I'm going to think of a new section pretty soon. Join Head_Canon, by the way.
Author Talk: What the heck, I thought you guys were my friends. Why did no one stop me from doing NaNoWriMo? I always forget how crappy an idea it is.
Prompt Used: Superheroes — #8
Rikku did not appreciate Wakka crimping her style.
Which basically translated into her stuffing back hysterical crying fits. But whatever, it wasn't as though she'd done anything wrong. It wasn't like she'd chosen to be born an Al Bhed, and—and she shouldn't even have to defend herself, because there wasn't anything wrong with being Al Bhed, because Gippal and Brother and Mom were Al Bhed, and since Gippal's hypothetical girl friend was probably a less-cute version of Rikku, she was an Al Bhed—
Except Rikku actually didn't want to be sharing a gene pool with hypothetical-Pus, but that was beside the point. The point was that Wakka's brother was still dead and Wakka was still blaming her for it and that was so grossly unfair because Rikku'd never even met Chappu and from the stories Wakka told he hadn't sounded like such a bad guy and—
And Wakka was getting crossed off the friend's list! In red ink! With lots of exclamation points!
And Wakka was still crimping her style. She couldn't even do the awesome pelvic-thrust of victory whenever she kicked fiend-butt. Now it was just this little fist-pump action, and really, how lame was that?
And chilling out in Winter Wonderland, (god, she was punny,) was not all that great. After the first snow angel had been made, she'd cooled off, and thought long and hard about going home. She could have showed everyone the hovercraft she'd built! But that she was not allowed to drive due to that dumb little thing known as safety regulations and her complete disregard for them.
But things were so much more exciting without safety rails! Wakka would totally agree with her—
Except that he wouldn't. Because now Wakka hated her guts and would probably just shake his head at how sacreligious her sneezes were, or something.
Rikku sniffled.
"What?" Yuna asked immediately, and made the rest of the part stop as well, "Is something wrong, Rikku?"
"She's fine," Wakka said immediately, and rolled his eyes, before stomping off. Rikku felt miserable. And frost bitten. But having her bestest buddy hating her guts was marginally worse.
"Just snot!" she said, with all the gusto she could muster. Most of the party made faces at that, but Yuna—didn't. She even fell back and took Rikku's hand and leaned against her a little. Which was sweet and wonderful and awfully nice of her…and had the side effect of both of them slipping off the path and into the ravine.
"I'm too cute to die!" Rikku clung to Yuna's foot, yelping when Yuna accidentally kicked her in the nose.
"Sorry!"
"Oh, no worries. I can just never get married now."
"Oh, Rikku," Yuna sighed.
"No, really," Rikku assured, "I'm sure it adds character." She wondered if it was broken. Was she bleeding? Probably. She was definitely bleeding. Her corpse would be gruesome. Maybe they could encase her in ice and parade her around and tell young children that stuff like this would happen to them if they looked up their cousin's skirt.
For the record, Rikku was not doing so.
There were just a lot of accidents.
Both girls clung on to their purchases until their dashing and valiant hero came to rescue them. His name was Kimahri. He was not impressed by their shenanigans. "This Ronso land," he grunted, and eyed Rikku warningly, like he was seriously going to toss her off the cliff if she dared to disagree. Ha, maybe Wakka would help. "Not place for desert people."
"Have you got a flag?" Rikku asked.
Kimahri accidentally tossed her into a pile of snow. Rikku's insides quietly shriveled up and died. "Okay," she enunciated, "Why would I even want to live here, I mean, it sucks so bad I would have to grow blue fur and claws to survive."
Kimahri seemed offended. "It might make a nice summer home?" Rikku offered, and judging by the snow up her nose, this was also the wrong answer.
"Great," Rikku huddled next to Yuna as the three of them rushed to rejoin the main group, "Now I'm going to get hypothermia and die. Also, my nose is broken."
"Your nose isn't broken, Rikku."
"No, it totally is. You don't have to spare me. Disfigurement is just a part of life. Do you think I'll get to wear a patch for it?"
"Your lips are blue."
"Oh," Rikku said, with great eloquence, and nibbled on one hopefully. It was a bit like bitting on someone else's finger. "Yunie, my lips are all fat and grotesque!"
"You're getting numb," Yuna soothed. Like that was going to make her feel any better, "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
"I will be such a hot cripple. I can hobble around on my crutches and everyone will give me money and I think Wakka hates me now and it's not my fault and I hate him and oh, Yunie, I don't hate him, I want him to like me and I thought we were friends and—and—I'm sorry about Chappu, but Sin was the one who killed him and it wasn't me and if he says it's me then it's like he's saying I killed my mom too and I didn't, Yunie, I didn't!"
"Rikku," Yuna shivered, but unwound her arms from her body long enough to pull Rikku into a hug, "He's just peeling off scabs. Give him time to heal a bit, and it'll be okay."
Rikku thought about this for a moment, "That is like the grossest analogy ever, Yunie."
"I was cold."
