Disclaimer- I do not own any square-enix related products. There. Happy?
Hail all you readers, people may remember me starting a fic with this title a couple of years ago, and never finishing it. This was due to me not being arsed to write for a while. Anyways, I'm starting afresh cos I thought actually telling everyone that the truth about myself so early was not such a good idea. (Note this is a self insertion fic, just in case you don't like them) I wont be able to update TOO often, because I'm starting college, there are new games coming out, etc.
Well, I'll get along with it shall I?
Dude, I'm stuck in Spira! (Attempt II)
A fan fiction by an idiot named Neil (Naz2k4)
Chapter I, In the beginning...
Hi, name's Neil. I am a kid with an extraordinary life. I used to live with my mother in England, in a town called Leyland. When I say extraordinary, I mean it. I'm the type of kid who'd choose games over football, books over sports, maths over PE, the Rasmus over Beyonce, silver over gold, and fantasy over reality.
I used to live with my dad, an ex-army retired teacher, at 40 years old. Past experiences and stress led to him having 7 heart attacks and 3 strokes to date. Nearly a year ago the stress was rubbing off on me, which was not good seeing as it was the year of my GCSE's. Thankfully, I escaped just in time to sort myself out for the exams.
I was never really that popular at my school. I was always picked on due to my last name, Day, yep, that's right, Day. Now if anyone dares to mention 'Gay Day' around me, they get their faces kicked in.
I had three friends at high school, by the names of Chris Heald, Lee Morris and Bruce Thomson. When I say 'friend' about Bruce I only say it because I had to hang around with him to hang around the other two. In truth I don't like him. He's arrogant, lazy, thinks the world of himself, thinks he is better than everyone else (especially me (snort)), and to put it gently, ugly.
August time was a time of total apathy. In the middle of it I decided to break the boredom with what I called my 'classic' games. I inserted into my PS2, sat down in front of my portable TV, and chose new game, expert grid, yadda yadda bloody yadda. Flash of white, dropped unconscious, bobs your uncle, fanny's your aunt, and I woke up in a stadium amongst a huge cheering crowd.
Everybody around me were dressed in a fashion unknown to the sane persons of planet earth, and were all cheering at a huge rippling blue ball in the middle of the stadium. I noticed I was sitting on a bench on the front row, fourth seat from the right on what and engraving on the wall told me to be the east stand. Just then my foot kicked something underneath the bench, that wasn't attached to it. Quickly ducking, I retrieved my dad's old short sword, still sheathed. Pleasantly unnoticed, I unsheathed it, and noticed it was a lot shinier, and sharper than I remembered it. I attached the sheath to my jeans. I'd need a weapon, I thought.
Also I remembered another thing I'd need, to get bloody well out of there! There was a large oooooh from the crowd. I looked at the sphere, and saw Tidus above it performing his sphere shot.
Shit
I ran
I ran as fast and as hard as my very long fast legs would take me. As I turned into the doorway to the steps to the exit, I thought I'd save time and jump down them. No need. The blast radius catapulted me down those steps. I tumbled out of the entrance. But picked myself up in time to steer clear of the giant statue thingy that guarded the main entrance. After thinking about the spectacular dodge roll I had just performed something blonde, wet and dressed in yellow landed on top of me. Shit happens.
-------- end of chapter --------
Hope you like. I know it isn't that long, but I prefer to write in script format (NOOOO! How could they do that to ready teddy cook!). Any who, since that is banned, I'm gonna have to write like this from now on, like everyone else.
Damn
I wanna be different!
Aww.
Appendix I is the current profiles of different non-ffx characters in the story, eg, me.
Pls Review nicely, use CONSTRUCTIVE criticsm, and JOIN THE RSPCV!!!!
(Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Vivi) (Amarant haters)
