DISCLAIMER: Any final fantasy X or X-2 character, places, creatures, or
themes that are in this fanfic belong to Squaresoft, which is now currently
Squarenix, I give my props to them for making such great games.
A/N: Basically, this is what happened before our favorite little group became members of the Crimson Squad. Told by Gippal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We walk down the hard steel hallways, no light coming through accept for the unnatural rays of the florescent lights, which shine apon the silver haired one name Baralai. The Quiet one when no subjects came up, but if justice was necessary you could count on him to see it through, yea. Oh and also, never debate with him, trust me I know. I look over at him, so calm and ready for whatever the masters have to say about the squad. He's always like that.
Why can't I be like that?
My eye turns from his ever-youthful face and come apon Nooj. Strange one. Always so secretive, and even more uptight than Baralai, if you can believe it. A look of confidence is on his face, his long brown hair swooping and over crossing each other over his broad shoulders, a single straight ponytail in the back of his head, the rest of his hair over his shoulders. He's had that look forever, and it suits him. He's the oldest of our group, only 25, but with the face and features of that of a 30 year old. Many people have different theories about how he got this way; some say the black tonberries give him steroids in return for knives. what a loud of bullshit. come on, tonberries. But you never know.
My eye turn away from him, now noticing that they have their own thoughts about what is going to happen, and I know that they don't want to be bothered with me. The Al Bhed boy from Bikanel Desert. I know they don't want me on their team, why would they. Traitors of Yeven as they call us, and I know that if we don't get in it's my fault. For being what I am, an Al Bhed. We turn left, A couple of girls pass us by, and I see the blonde's eyes run over Nooj, My eye looks over to him, and I see as he turns his head and smirks at her. Always, a smirk. The brunet that the blond is with is looking at Baralai, but I don't even have to look at him to tell that he is paying no mind. he's always like that... the prude. They both turn their heads back around and giggle to each other, clutching to their books like petty school girls. Yeven give me a fucking break, we're in Training Camp, and you think they would be more mature. I roll my eye then look ahead, wondering if we are almost there, wondering if Baralai got lost. ha, I would like to see the day. Suddenly he stops by yet another carbon copy of an oak door, the only thing separating it from the others is the number engraved in gold on the top of the door. 25694.
"This is it." He says, and turns the doorknob slowly.
I take a deep breath, sucking in what little of a gut I have. Sorry, but unlike Nooj I have to do this. I don't know why, it's just a habit. I'm not cocky and I know that I'm not 'built' as they say. Like him. Maybe he can wear tight shirts to show off his muscles, and tight pants. But I prefer my usual Al Bhed suit. The one used for damp and cold climates. As Bevell tends to get cold.
Baralai opens the door slowly, revealing the fine see through floor that leads to the Bevell Falls. A nice polished wooden alter is about 30 feet away from the oak door; a little oil lamp rests on it. A few exotic plants are in pots in the corners of the pentagon shaped room (probably from Kilika), but still the annoying Florescent lights light up the room which would be otherwise pitch black, as it is Nighttime in Bevell, and the Falls are a stunning purple, black, and dark blue.
I take a step inside, marveling at the whole interior of the room, especially the floor, Nooj and Baralai standing in front of my as I was respectfully the last person to enter. Baralai softly nudges me and I look up to see what is the matter. My eyes follow his and I turn my head, only to come eye to eyes with Maester Mika.
A/N: Basically, this is what happened before our favorite little group became members of the Crimson Squad. Told by Gippal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We walk down the hard steel hallways, no light coming through accept for the unnatural rays of the florescent lights, which shine apon the silver haired one name Baralai. The Quiet one when no subjects came up, but if justice was necessary you could count on him to see it through, yea. Oh and also, never debate with him, trust me I know. I look over at him, so calm and ready for whatever the masters have to say about the squad. He's always like that.
Why can't I be like that?
My eye turns from his ever-youthful face and come apon Nooj. Strange one. Always so secretive, and even more uptight than Baralai, if you can believe it. A look of confidence is on his face, his long brown hair swooping and over crossing each other over his broad shoulders, a single straight ponytail in the back of his head, the rest of his hair over his shoulders. He's had that look forever, and it suits him. He's the oldest of our group, only 25, but with the face and features of that of a 30 year old. Many people have different theories about how he got this way; some say the black tonberries give him steroids in return for knives. what a loud of bullshit. come on, tonberries. But you never know.
My eye turn away from him, now noticing that they have their own thoughts about what is going to happen, and I know that they don't want to be bothered with me. The Al Bhed boy from Bikanel Desert. I know they don't want me on their team, why would they. Traitors of Yeven as they call us, and I know that if we don't get in it's my fault. For being what I am, an Al Bhed. We turn left, A couple of girls pass us by, and I see the blonde's eyes run over Nooj, My eye looks over to him, and I see as he turns his head and smirks at her. Always, a smirk. The brunet that the blond is with is looking at Baralai, but I don't even have to look at him to tell that he is paying no mind. he's always like that... the prude. They both turn their heads back around and giggle to each other, clutching to their books like petty school girls. Yeven give me a fucking break, we're in Training Camp, and you think they would be more mature. I roll my eye then look ahead, wondering if we are almost there, wondering if Baralai got lost. ha, I would like to see the day. Suddenly he stops by yet another carbon copy of an oak door, the only thing separating it from the others is the number engraved in gold on the top of the door. 25694.
"This is it." He says, and turns the doorknob slowly.
I take a deep breath, sucking in what little of a gut I have. Sorry, but unlike Nooj I have to do this. I don't know why, it's just a habit. I'm not cocky and I know that I'm not 'built' as they say. Like him. Maybe he can wear tight shirts to show off his muscles, and tight pants. But I prefer my usual Al Bhed suit. The one used for damp and cold climates. As Bevell tends to get cold.
Baralai opens the door slowly, revealing the fine see through floor that leads to the Bevell Falls. A nice polished wooden alter is about 30 feet away from the oak door; a little oil lamp rests on it. A few exotic plants are in pots in the corners of the pentagon shaped room (probably from Kilika), but still the annoying Florescent lights light up the room which would be otherwise pitch black, as it is Nighttime in Bevell, and the Falls are a stunning purple, black, and dark blue.
I take a step inside, marveling at the whole interior of the room, especially the floor, Nooj and Baralai standing in front of my as I was respectfully the last person to enter. Baralai softly nudges me and I look up to see what is the matter. My eyes follow his and I turn my head, only to come eye to eyes with Maester Mika.
