Chapter 3

You wake up at Baron... Boss battle... You fly into Midgar, Kalm, Junon... Random attacks... You fly into tons of airship docks... World map, cities, dungeons... Lose an item... gain an item... This is your life... And it's ending one random encounter at a time... You wake up at Narshe International... If you wake up in a different place... At a different time... Could you wake up as a different character?

Everywhere I go... Single serving ether, single serving elixir, single serving potion... "Food For Heroes Chicken Dinner". Sample package item combos... This is rather appropriate... the people I meet on every airship... They're single serving NPCs... Between take off and landing we have our time together, but that's all we get... I would sit inside my inn rooms at all these places and I would think what kind of person the next single serving NPC would be...

On a long enough timeline, the HP of everyone drops to zero...

I was a recall coordinator... My job was to apply the formula... I always did on these business trips... Two guys would escort me into an area where a random encounter took place where the party members died while they used weapons manufactured by my company...

"See the blood spatter on the blade? The monster must have been huge, just look at how large the blood sprayed... Very... modern art..."

The people that escorted me were always the most interesting of characters...

A weapon made by my company is used in a random battle... For some reason, equipping that particular weapon dropped all the character's stats... This person used to be the strongest character, but now his attack is lowered to zero... Now, should we initiate a recall? Multiply the number of weapons in the field, A, by the probable rate of failure when mixed with other armor and accessories, B, and then multiply it by the average random encounter loss, C. A times B times C equals...

"...X..."

I was explaining this all to a single serving NPC.

"If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one..."

He was stunned.

"Are there a lot of these kinds of battles?" he asked

"You wouldn't believe."

A pause.

"What weapons company do you work for?"

He asked too many questions.

"A major one." I always responded the same to that question

Every time the airship banked too hard on take off or landing... I prayed for a crash... Or a mid-air Boss battle... And suddenly... I saw a huge flying, snake-like creature take a huge chunk out of the airship with it's fangs. What thoughts were running through my mind? Insurance pays off triple if you die on a side quest.

"Please fasten your seatbelt, sir." The stewardess said It was a dream

Then, a voice began to speak. "If you are seated on an emergency X-Potion row..."

The man next to me, a guy wearing red armor with red, poofy hair, looked up and saw he was... Then he continued

"... and you feel you will be unable to carry out the procedure listed on the safety card... please ask your stewardess to reseat you."

"That's a lot of responsibility..." I said

"Want to switch seats?" he smirked as he asked

"Nah, I don't think I have enough experience points for that job..." I mocked

"An emergency potion procedure at thirty thousand feet... The illusion of healing..."

"I guess so."

I was really unsure how to respond to that.

"Do you know why they put save points on air ships?"

"So you can save."

"No, air ships... make you die... While you're on an airship it's common knowledge you'll be attacked while you're in the air... Suddenly an insanely powerful boss pops up and you get ripped to shreds... Then you appear right back on the airship... however... In some cases, such as commercial airships, you will lose some gil, because you are paying to come back on the airship despite the fact you just died."

"Well... um... that's an interesting... uh... theory..."

Again, I didn't know how to respond.

"What do you do?" I asked him

"Why? So you can pretend like you're actually reading the story instead of pressing the X button rapidly so you can skip most of what I say?"

I laughed at this. It was normally true, "Okay..."

He looked at me for a moment more.

"Swords."

"Sorry?"

"I make an I sell swords... Yardstick of the modern warrior..."

He bent over in his seat and grabbed his item pouch... I looked at it then back at mine... They were exactly the same.

"We have the same item pouch."

He smirked and gave me a card of his company. The card read "Pencil Street Sword Company". And so this is how I met a guy named Fighter...

"Did you know that using materia, if you have two joined together slots if you put fire, and Knights of the Round in them, you'll have Knights of the Round with the added fire attribute."

Fighter was full of useful information...

"No I did not know that, is that true?"

"Yes it is. You'd be surprised what kind of insanely powerful spells you can make, using simple, run of the mill magic."

I just stared at Fighter and his red hair a minute.

"Fighter, you are by far the most interesting single serving NPC I have ever met..."

He was unfazed.

"You see, I have this thing..."

Cut off...

"Oh I get it. It's very clever... You must have a +5/+5 attribute in being clever..."

I didn't min/max but I took it as a compliment anyway.

"Thank you..."

"How's that working out for you?"

"What?"

Again with the confusion.

"Being clever."

"Great." I said

It was a lie.

"Keep it up then... right up..."

He then got up and began to walk out of our row

"Now a question of etiquette... As I pass should I give him the shield or the sword..."

I took this to mean the fact his sword was hanging down at his front and his shield was hanging on his back... Of course... It could mean something innuendo-ish...

How I came to live with Fighter is... Airship companies have a policy about beeping luggage...

I looked at the baggage carrousel. My bag... it wasn't there. This did not make my hatred go away. I walked over to the guy supervising the luggage carrousel... He was talking on the phone... to whom? Probably some pizza place... he was kind of large...

"I'm sorry, what did you say was going on with it?"

Something had happened to my luggage.

"It was beeping. Ya see... when a suitcase beeps... We have to call the police..."

I didn't understand.

"Beeping? My suitcase… Was beeping?!"

"Nine time out of ten it's a cell phone that didn't get turned off... But every once in a while..."

He hesitated. He looked around.

"It's a game genie."

The most unholy of unholy game peripherals. It was against the law to have one. They were the most evil product produced by hand of man. Nevertheless, the man continued with his explanation.

"Of course, it's the law we can't insinuate ownership of the game genie until it's proven it belongs to you... We have to use the indefinite article A game genie, never... YOUR game genie."

By this time... I was compelled to deny anything.

"I do not own a..."

I started my sentence... But the man just cut me off...

I had everything in that suitcase... My staves... my level 9 spells... my knives... my...

I looked out of the window to see Fighter mounting a chocobo. A great golden bird... He must have been rich from his sword business... I'm poor and complaining about my knives... Nevermind. I just stood there... Then... a voice from outside answered the question that just popped into my mind...

"HEY! They're aren't Chocobos in FFI!"

I rode in the back of a taxi. We rode down the lit streets of Corneria. We drove to the high-rise apartment building... The building that I called home. The people who lived there? No one but Mages in training and wannabe professionals. The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when your neighbor has lost her entire hearing attribute and is forced to watch Matlock at full volume. It's also important when your other neighbor is a pimp. Enough said. Another reason why the concrete is important because in the event a Hadoken blast of biblical proportions blows your entire life out of a Corneria window into the night, no one else in the building will be harmed. Such was the case this night.

I got out of the taxi as I had hundreds of times before but my apartment was not there waiting for me... Police cars, fire engines, and a flaming condo were, however. Flames spitting from the gaping hole in the building. I suppose these are one of those events... They have to happen for the story to progress... Or at least, that's what I was telling myself as I walked into the lobby of the condo complex. The doorman met me, look of sorrow plastered across his face.

"You can't really go up there... There's no floor... I'm terribly sorry."

The police would later tell me that a gas pipe had broken and I had left a fire gem in the middle of the kitchen. This gem gave off fire. Thus, when the gas came in contact with the gem... It all went up in flames... And now I needed a place to stay...

As I dug through my tattered pockets I found White Mage's phone number. I meandered over to a payphone and began to dial.

One ring...

Two ring...


CLICK


"Hello, who is this?"

I didn't answer.

"Who is this?!"

I hung up. I couldn't bear even talking to White Mage... Then, among the coins and spells in the pockets of my robe emerged the "Pencil Street Sword Company" card. Why did I call him? What was I hoping to accomplish? Now... I'm not sure...

The change went down the slot and I dialed the number...

One ring...

Two ring...

Three ring...

Four ring...

I hung up... He probably wasn't home.

Suddenly...


RING


The pay phone rang and I picked up.

"Hello?" I asked

"Who is this?" the voice on the other end answered

"Fighter?" A trace of uncertainty lingered in my speech

A pause.

"Who is this?!" he asked again

"Well, we met on the airship..."

Fighter didn't answer.

"We had the same item pouch."

Fighter didn't answer.

"The guy with the clever attribute."

Fighter answered, "Oh, right. Heh... So what's up?"

I had gotten through to him.

"Well... You're not gonna believe this..."

The truth was... He probably would.