Ether for Sale
Or,
Those Who Hunt Moogles
Chapter Three
First Delivery: Luca Stadium!!!
Gonzo Ronso was hiding out on the docks, avoiding the rest of his team. He was supposed to be practiing for the Blitz season, but he had more important things to do. Gonzo was blue, nine feet tall, three hundred pounds of pure feline-esque muscle ... and an avid Yu-Gi-Oh collector. At the moment Jymbo and Teityr arrived, he had his card collection spread across the deck, and was carefully alphabetizing every last one. He also sorted them by monster, magic, or trap, then sub-organized them by element, type, level of stars, and whether they had an effect. For those readers who've never played Yu-Gi-Oh, lets just say that he spent a lot of time and effort into sorting his entire collection into a single ultimate deck, a massively time-consuming and painfully difficult task.
Not to mention, an extremely expensive endeavor. (Not that your dear author would know...Ahem.)
"Look out! Land ho!" A tiny voice squeaked, though Gonzo knew it to be the human equivalent of a Ronso howl of fear. He perked up his ears, and looked around. Not seeing anyone, he continued shuffling. "For godssakes, if you love life, flee the deck now!!!" the voice cried, having come a little closer. Gonzo looked up again, and peered around the dock. Still, he saw nothing, He shrugged again, and returned to his cards, vowing not to pay attention to the next sound the squeaky voice made.
"NNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!" the voice cried, and then there was a soft thump of wood knocking lightly against wood. Gonzo sighed, and stood up, proceeding to the side of the dock, and looking over to investigate the source of the noise. The fearful eyes of Jymbo Gak peered up at him, so wide they swallowed his entire face. Teityr frowned at his grandfather, and looked apologetically at the Ronso.
"He's a little old, so please forgive him," Teityr asked, bowing respectfully to the massive Ronso. He then tapped the side of his head, and pointed to his grandfather.
"Shush!" Jymbo hissed, slapping Teityr across the back of his head. "The slightest vibration, such as the vocal chords making a sound just a mite too loud might very well bring this whole city down upon us."
Teityr frowned, putting his hands on his hips, and arching an eyebrow at his grandfather. Gonzo Ronso watched the entire exchange silently, observing everything that was said before quietly stating one sentence. "Silence, tiny man." He proceeded back to his cards, and seated himself with a soft whump.
The dock collapsed entire, crashing into the water thunderously.
After several minutes of floundering about, Teityr and Jymbo crawled out of the water, gasping for air. Jymbo quickly jabbed a finger underneath Teityr's nose. "SEE?!" he demanded.
Teityr shook his head. "That makes no sense! That dock is huge! How could our raft break it?"
Jymbo got to his feet, shaking himself dry. "Luca is flimsy," he stated. "I should know, since I helped build the damn thing."
His grandson shook his head disbelievingly "You built Luca? Shoddily-built Luca?"
Jymbo stared at him coolly. "I did use any 'shods'. Now c'mon, help me fetch our product before it sinks."
Teityr removed his pack, and set it on the ground. Mog yawned loudly, and crawled out, rubbing his eyes, and grumbling in a surly manner. "You should be more quiet, kupo." The creature wobbled, clutching its head. "I feel sea-sick, kupo ..."
The Moogle hiccupped loudly, before looking at its two masters, leaning over the side of the dock, fishing bottles of Ether from the water. It scanned the area, squinting in the harsh light (harsh to a hung-over Moogle, anyway). There was a tremendous amount of people all talking at once, all excitedly ... somewhere south. With a quick shake of its head, it strove to listen harder. Mog threw another glance back at the two Gak's, before shrugging and meandering off, searching for the source of the sound.
At the path to the Mi'hien Highroad ... We stumble upon a conversation.
"... I don't think anyone would believe ours is the real Yuna," Paine said, smirking.
"Not dressed like that!" Rikku laughed.
"I didn't ask to wear this ..."
Yuna fought her way up the stairs, the weight of the Moogle costume almost too much. "Whew. Its hot ..."
Paine shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile behind her hand. "Shall we finish this before Yuna passes out?"
"We'll be back in two shakes, so be a good Moogle, you hear?"
They ran off laughing, and Yuna proceeded down the stairs, stopping briefly to amuse some children, who danced around her in a circle, chanting "Moogle! Moogle!" She grumbled inwardly, humiliated to be caught in public with this thing on, even though the only people who would ever know (hopefully) were the Gullwings. Brother didn't think poorly of the outfit, Buddy wasn't the type to tease ... But from Rikku and Paine? She'd probably never hear the end of it. She smiled, shaking her head, causing the red pom-pom on the top of her mask to waggle back and forth. "I guess it is kind of funny," she admitted.
"Oh hurry up," she said, hoping they would get her dressphere back. Funny or not, there was only so much she could take.
"You! Get over here!"
"Huh?" she gasped, turning to look at the man calling her. She approached him cautiously, wondering if he was one of the goons from the thief's group they'd fought all the way to Luca. He was standing next to a balloon cart, looking impatient.
"You're here to promote the concert, right?"
"Me?" she asked. "No, there must be some mistake."
"Thanks!" he handed her a bunch of balloons. "And hey, don't screw up."
She sighed heavily as he walked away.
All in all, for Mog, it was quite uneventful. He strolled down the dock, and defeated a dog and its owner in something called Sphere Break. It was an annoying game, involving a little more math then was good for a sauced-up Moogle, but he randomly picked groups of numbers, and won, somehow. He continued on his way, ignoring the hordes of mother's on their way to the stadium pausing to point him out to their children. He bounced along, looking for some excitement. He'd almost reached the end of the city, when he saw something that made his heart stop.
"Get 'em while they're hot!" the large female Moogle said, handing a balloon to a bystander, an old man who didn't look particularly thrilled.
"Kupo?!" he exclaimed. Hearts appeared over his head, and (in his own mind, at least) dramatic music swelled.
"It's a really nice balloon," she said, passing another off to a small child.
"Kupopo ..." he sighed contentedly, starting to drift towards her, like he was in a dream.
Something snagged his arm, wrenching him back, and suddenly he was staring into an ugly, mustachioed face, which examined him carefully. "I am positively positive that this is our prey, Shaker."
The man named Shaker leaned forward, scratching his chin. He grinned at the face of the little creature. "Didn't think you could escape the Shakes Family, did you? Now where are your masters?"
"Its about shakin' time!" a third voice grumbled, this one belonging to a short, round fellow. "Cram that ugly thing in the shakin' pack, and let's go get that bounty!"
"One last thing ..." Shaker said, grinning.
The tall, skinny one holding the Mog nodded. "The High Summoner's concert! We must attendingly attend!"
"That's right," Shaker said. "We're attendingly-attending the concert ... Wait ..." He reached over and slapped his brother. "Solt, Peppor, we're going to hunt down the Gaks, then collect our money! That's the only reason we're here!"
"I wanna see the shakin' Summoner!" Peppor whined, bouncing from foot to foot.
"And the summoner shakin', if you catch my drift." Solt snickered at his own joke. "She's truly quite fetchingly-fetching, Shaker. I saw her once, on her way through Bevelle -"
"I know what she looks like, dammit!" Shaker growled. "We're not going to see it!"
"I've already got the shakin' tickets ..." The Peppor said, sniffing sadly.
"I wanna see the concert, kupo," Mog piped up. All three gawked at him, disbelieving.
"You've really got to start learning responsibility," Jymbo said, peering closely at the information desk.
"Me?!" Teityr yelled. "Its not my fault he's gone! He was too drunk to stand the last time I looked at him, much less walk anywhere!"
Jymbo shook his head. "Never underestimate a sauced-up Moogle, m'boy."
Teityr's eye twitched, but he kept his mouth shut and kept looking. "Where could he be?" A cold chill passed over him, the hair on the back of his neck standing abruptly on end. He looked around suspiciously, but all he saw were three men in gold armor passing just behind him, heading towards the stadium. The tall, skinny one had a silly looking mustache; the short, fat one wore what appeared to be a bucket in place of a helmet; the average sized man in the middle looked normal, but unnaturally surly.
"Weird," Teityr commented.
"What's weird?" Jymbo asked, eyeing a passing Al Bhed girl. "I don't see anything weird ... But maybe I should go check her out, to be certain..."
"I just felt cold," Teityr explained, frowning when he saw his grandfather checking out passing women.
Jymbo's eyes lit up, and he jumped around excitedly, ignoring the scantily clad Al Bhed girls. "Your Moogle Sense! Its working!" He clapped his hands happily.
"Moogle Sense?" Teityr asked. "Are you making this up?" Just as he spoke, while surveying the crowd again, he saw Mog pop out of a sack carried by one of the three men, waving his pom-pom happily. His jaw dropped. "There!"
Teityr took off, not waiting for his grandfather to catch up. He reached the bottom of the steps, and took them four at a time. His outstretched arm almost reached the sack, when a huge arm came out of nowhere, clotheslining him viciously. He fell backwards, somersaulting down the stairs. "OW!" he exclaimed, grabbing the back of his head. He looked up to see an evil looking guard glaring down at him. "No free admission," he said.
"But my Moogle!" Teityr pleaded.
The man laughed harshly, and gestured at the other flight of stairs. Someone in a Moogle costume was also turned away. "I hope you're happy together," he sneered.
"But that's not -" Teityr said, and the man turned away. He touched his ear for a moment, and another guard yelled something he didn't hear. The man's uniform suddenly changed to an ugly green frogman costume, and he ran into the building.
"What the ..." Teityr wondered aloud.
"What can I do for you," Jymbo sing-songed along with the woman on stage, ignoring the protests of the concert-goers alongside him. (Thoughtful of Teityr to help me sneak in,) he thought proudly. (I'll have to make it up to him sometime.) Suddenly guards rushed past him, almost crushing him underfoot. "What the - ?!" he exclaimed. The green frogmen were rushing the stage. People were screaming, howling in excitement as two women landed on the stage, and started fighting the High Summoner.
Jymbo frowned, squinting, trying to see better. "What's going on?"
They defeated her quickly enough, and she rushed off, chased after closely by the two women. "That was odd," he thought aloud. Suddenly, someone landed on the ground in front of him, nose bleeding profusely. A man jumped on him, punching mercilessly. A full-blown riot started mere seconds later, people fighting everywhere. Jymbo was swallowed up by the storm, his last coherent shout being "Curse you Teityr!"
"Whew ..." Shaker said, collapsing oto the stairs. "We just barely got out alive ..." He'd barely gotten the last word out, when he was bowled over by his brothers, rushing after the High Summoner.
"Wait! I just want a shakin' autograph!" They chased after her, and Shaker got to his feet in an instant.
"No! You morons! Leave the loot, at least!" The sack came flying at him, and he almost didn't catch it.
The Mog popped out, scowling at him evilly. "I didn't get to see the concert, Kupo!"
"She only sang one song, which was half-over when we went in," he snarled, stuffing the Mog back into the pack. He slung it over his shoulder, and started down the stairs. All of a sudden, an angry looking teenager was in front of him, foot arcing up fast. It caught Shaker under the chin, sending him backwards onto the stairs. The boy snatched the pack out of midair, and pulled out the Moogle.
"Run Mog! Quick, go!" The Moogle obeyed, rushing off in the direction the Shakes had gone. "Not that way!" Teityr cried weakly.
"You have worse problems, kid," Shaker snarled, wiping off his lip and standing up. "Are you ready for some pain?"
Teityr turned back to his opponent with a smirk. "Finally, something I can do."
He ran forward, ducking Shaker's initial blow, and jumping. He twisted, becoming completely level with the stairs, flipping up them in a series of horizontal handstands, until he reached the top. Shaker stared, stunned at the bizarre fighting style. Teityr landed on his feet, and grabbed something out of the hand of a young woman. He tossed it into the air, and spun on one foot.
"My core sphere!" the woman yelled.
"... Crap," Shaker said. "Wish I'd saved."
Teityr's foot lanced out, catching the sphere, and sailing it at tremendous speed. It glanced off of Shaker's forehead, the force sending him flying the rest of the way down the stairs. The sphere arced backwards through the air, and landed in Teityr's outstretched hand. With a smile and a wink, he gave it back to the shocked woman before rushing off, making certain to step on the unconscious bounty hunter as he ran.
Teityr skidded to a halt, next to his grandfather, panting. "Did you get attacked?" he wheezed. The little old man was black and blue from head to toe, looking like he was simply one big bruise instead of a tiny man.
"Yes!" Jymbo snarled, but didn't elaborate.
""I think they're after Mog," Teityr said, finally regainging some composure. "Where is he?"
Jymbo pointed sulkily, and Teityr looked, seeing Mog curled up next to an empty Mog costume contentedly. It looked to have been ditched hastily, and from the way Mog was cuddling with it, he hoped the owner was long gone. He frowned, and started towards the little creature. "Mog? You okay?"
The creature sighed, and got to his feet. He patted the costume on the butt, and winked. "I'll call you, kupo."
Teityr stared at the sky, wishing he had never heard that remark. Gunfire distracted him, and he thanked his ancestors in the Farplane for that, at least.
"Damn!" Jymbo shouted, grabbing Teityr and pulling him to the ground. "The Luca Crips are at it again!"
"There's no such thing-" Teityr tried to protest.
"No time!" Jymbo ordered.
They all ducked, shielded from sight (and stray gunfire) by several large crates.
Shaker skidded to a halt, still rubbing his forehead and whimpering quietly. He paused, peering carefully around the deck, but not seeing anyone, he continued running down the walkway.
Eventually, the sounds of fighting subsided, and Jymbo allowed Teityr to stand. "Damn Gunners," he swore. Teityr arched an eyebrow at him, but didn't ask. Mog hiccupped loudly, and both Gak's looked at him. Without prompting, he relayed the story of his mog-napping.
"The Shakes Family ...?" Teityr said.
Jymbo nodded, 'hmm'-ing loudly. "Yes ... A band of ruthless thieves, no doubt."
"Fiend Hunters, kupo," Mog interjected. "Hired by Mep."
"Yes, thieves, who's only intent must be to stop us from delivering our precious cargo..."
"They want to kill you, kupo. For Mep."
"Indeed: I'm certain there is nothing too deep about this incident, just a random group of miscellaneous thieves. No one in the background pulling the strings ... certainly not an old enemy of mine, humiliated by me for time immemorial, looking for revenge by destroying my family's legacy ... Just thieves ..."
Like an old man (which he was) Jymbo prattled on, and like a hung-over Moogle (which he was) Mog kept impatiently correcting him. Teityr sighed, taking up his pack and walking off, delivering the order of Ether to the information desk. The woman eyed him suspiciously when he handed her the crumpled and faded order form, but she accepted it anyway, knowing she had no choice. After all, Ether was in huge demand. Even with Sin gone, there would always be Fiends ...
Teityr returned to his grandfather's side. "Where to next, pops?"
Jymbo shook himself out of his rambling, and snatched the order forms from Teityr. He peered over them carefully, making a big show of his thinking. "To the Mi'Hien Highroad, and Bob's Walking Shack!"
Teityr chewed on his lower lip quietly, thinking. Finally, he sighed. "Bob's Walking Shack doesn't exist anymore."
"What?!" Jymbo exclaimed. "Since when?!"
"They were bought out by an Al Bhed guy ... I don't remember his name. I'm sure we could convince them to pick up the order."
Jymbo nodded briskly. "Well then, to some Al Bhed guy!" he shouted, pointing off in the distance. Teityr suppressed a smile, and started walking off towards the Mi'Hien Highroad; which lay in the opposite direction his grandfather was pointing.
