Sorry for the delay in posting, I have three major projects that I am working on right now. One is complete, one is large scale and almost done, and I haven't even started the other one yet! So, here's Chapter 5 and it has a mini psychology and genetics lesson in it. See? Education can be fun! Let me know how this chapter turned out.
Title: Random Bits 12 - Chapter 5
Setting: Yuna's Guardians are escorting her back from a visit to Macalania Temple (in Macalania if you couldn't guess). Rest is in sight as Yuna, Party of Seven, crowd into the Travel Agency.
Moonflow - North Bank Road- Morning. After running like mad from the entrance to Guadosalam, Yuna and her companions spent the night in the surrounding forest. To avoid detection they slept on the ground, without their tents or a fire.
Kimahri woke his fellow Guardians before dawn, when the Guado nation began showing signs of activity. They crept quietly through the bushes, except for the occasional strangled cry of surprise as Kimahri's Stalk instinct got the better of him. When they finally emerged from the scrub, they were covered in burs, leaves, and in Auron's case, several small insects that thought the pockets and collar of his robe would make a good home. They took several brief moments to tidy up , everyone helping Kimahri pick the burrs out of his fur, then resumed their journey to the Shoopuff Ferry.
"Hey Rikku," Wakka drawled slyly. "Wasn't that the spot back there where you stripped for Tidus?" The small teen, who had been cheerfully walking along side the Islander, froze. So did everyone else. Rikkus' friends stared at her for a painfully long moment, their faces guarded. They were judging her, looking straight into her soul and judging her. She just knew it.
Rikku glared at Wakka as raging indignation and uncertainty warred across her face. It was a total lie, but her Id (that's the little voice inside you that tells you you are doing something immoral, aka your conscience. In psychology it's the opposite of your Ego. ) loomed behind her like the Tsunami of Doubt, reminding her that it was technically true. Rikku wasn't the only one.
"Yeah," Wakka continued, "Tidus told me all about it." Tidus, whose mental Records Keeper, had been busily looking up that particular memory, abandoned the task as the Blitzball player's friends turned their critical gazes on him. He looked nervously between them, mouth gapping. His Records Keeper frantically searched through that memory's dialogue, dumping the whole drawer of files on the floor, then scrabbling among them. Everyone was giving him their undivided attention and none of them looked happy. Lulu looked positively rabid.
"That was a looooong time ago…and …and that's not what I said, Wakka!" Tidus nearly wailed, backing away as he shook his head and hands in denial. "It's not what I said." he repeated, this time to Rikku. "I said 'I didn't know that's what you looked like under the dive suit'. And then Wakka said 'Was she nekkid?' Then I said 'No. She was wearing clothes when you saw her, wasn't she?'" Tidus babbled, mentally reading That Day's Script, as it was handed over with a triumphant flourish by his internal Record's Keeper.
"Why would you even want to know that?" Lulu asked in a curiously casual tone. The question sounded innocent enough, but it was really a cunningly laid trap used by wives, girlfriends, and female company to trap males suspected of lying, cheating, or having fun without them.
Wakka blundered right into it. . .
"It's a guy thing." Wakka snorted. "You know? Like all guys have Island Sports With Pictures: Beach Edition and Girls and Machina magazines. Guys always wanna know stuff like that."
…and found himself up to his neck in Evrae apples as three affronted girls glowered back.
Desperate not to sink into the deep doo-doo alone, Wakka fell back on the Buddy Code: If you get caught, take some one down with you. Its nice to have a friend you trust sitting across from you in the holding cell.
"It's a guy thing, right Auron? You would ask the same question."
Three scornful pairs of eyes locked on Auron, hitting him with the sweltering heat of disdain. The one-eyed man faltered under the horribly expectant female gazes. On one hand you had to defend the Brotherhood, but on the other hand the Sisterhood was marginally more powerful and knew how to really make you hurt. It would be done in small ways because girls won't use out right violence when small snipping remarks, cold shoulders, doing your own domestic chores, and starvation work just as well. Screw the Brotherhood. Auron needed his greasy meat and gravy.
"No." Auron replied evenly, and quickly added, "Only uncivilized savages would ask those kinds of questions, or even think about that stuff. The three baleful glares turned to gazes of absolute adoration. The Legendary Guardian could almost hear the thoughts of the three X's. The mental conversation ran thusly: He's so cool! He's like the perfect man and he's all ours
One of life's many mysteries is the way women can, with a glance share information among themselves, or get information from their fellow females. For eons men have been mystified by the way women always seem to just know, especially when men are lying. Well, its no mystery. The truth is that all women, young or old, possess rudimentary telepathic abilities. When your mom/girlfriend/wife/sister looks at you like she knows what you're thinking its because she does.
With his new fan club in tow Auron swaggered up to the ferry, passing people sitting on the many benches. They were always the same people sitting in the same places. None of them ever got on the ferry. That's because they belonged to an organization called The Professional Sitters. This group had members in every city, village, and temple. Its members were often seen sitting on walls, benches piers, docks, boulders, and on the ground.
The Sitters served no practical purpose but to be there and make a place look populated. It was the same with their sister organizations known as The Professional Line Makers, Crowd Makers Guild, 'Ask Me, I Can Help'ers', and Aimless Wanderers Incorporated. The pay was good, considering that they got paid for sitting/standing/and otherwise loafing around all day.
Sweeping into the North Warf, Yuna and her faithful Guardians joined the line for the ferry. Okay, so Yuna just followed along while Kimahri discreetly convinced those ahead of him to let Yuna and her party to the front of the line. This amazing feat was accomplished by smiling, laughing, and companionably patting others on the back. Okay, bearing his fangs, snarling, and hurling people bodily out of the way. Being discreet was not something that Ronsos did well.
The Guardians' progress was hindered by the Hypello attendant. It was standing at the top of the ramp, all bandy legs and scowls. Auron couldn't tell if it was male or female and asking would have been rude. You just don't walk up to an androgynous (that means you can't tell if it's a boy or girl) person and say "Excuse me, my good…fellow human, but you are a boy or a girl?" It's just not done.
"Is there a problem…friend?" Auron inquired smoothly, completely skipping the details concerning gender assignment.
"As a matter of fact, there ish." the Hypello replied, (It was male by the way) "There will be a 175 gil deposhit (here Wakka, Tidus, and Rikku giggled) to ride ze Shoopuff.
"What? Why?" The Unsent Monk growled.
"In cashe of damagesh. That ish the shon of Jecht, ish it not?"
The good old days spent traversing Spira with Braska and Jecht rushed back with all the speed of an avalanche. On the top of the heap was the Jecht vs. Shoopuff incident, shining like a gem at the crest. It waved cheerfully.
"Does he look anything like Jecht?" Auron allowed himself a glimmer of hope since Tidus took after his mother in looks.
The Hypello leaned to the side to look around Auron, then leaned back and treated the warrior monk to a cynical look. Auron turned around slowly, desperately hoping that the boy wasn't doing something hereditary. In the middle of his companions was Tidus. He wasn't doing anything.
The blond was just standing there, but that's the thing about genetics. It's a tricky bugger. Just because your phenotype (that means physical appearance) is nothing like your father's, your genotype (genetic makeup) can be a nearly perfect copy. It's the luck of the Punnette square. Feeling Auron's gaze boring into him, Tidus rubbed the back of his head, a modification of that stupid neck rubbing thing that Jecht did whenever he was uncomfortable. It was just a gesture, but JECHT was etched into every line and movement of his body, boldly proclaiming 'Yes, I am the son of Sin!'
The Legendary Guardian let his breath out in a frustrated puff. He looked down the line at Kimahri and nodded slightly. Kimahri held up a fist eagerly. Auron quickly shook his head. The Ronso slowly uncurled his hand and looked at the older man questioningly. Auron gave a slight nod of approval.
Kimhri delivered an inexpert, yet effective slap to the back to Tidus' head. It was just a slap since only Auron could correctly execute a Hand of Justice.
"Ow!" Tidus exclaimed, the number 10 floating in the air above him, "What was that for?"
"Genetics."
"Sir Auron," Yuna chided sternly. It was like being savaged by a butterfly. "You shouldn't punish the son for the crimes of the father."
"Yes, but the apple never falls far from the tree."
Yuna fell silent for a moment, a determined look crossing her face. So, he wanted to talk religion did he?
"But is it not written that the curse of the father shall not fall upon the son?"
"Foolishness isn't a curse, its genetic."
"Before Yevon we are all equally wise and equally foolish."
"True. But it is also written: spare not the rod from the back of a fool."
Yuna frowned. Auron seemed to be enjoying this little spat, but she had studied the Teachings much longer than he had.
"It is also written: A man's lips bring him strife, and his mouth invites a beating." She raised her Nirvana staff in what she hoped was a threatening gesture. Auron stared a her for a moment before realizing she had just threatened him with bodily harm. He had lots of replies to that last one, some of them were quite witty, but all of them were unfit for public ears. Besides Yuna was actually upset with him. He tried to tell himself that he didn't care.
"Fine." Auron grumbled, handing over the deposit. "I don't want have to listen to him cry all the way to Djose."
Even though he hadn't done anything, Tidus couldn't shake the feeling that he had gotten off with a light warning. An inexpert Hand of Justice was better that Kimahri's Fist of Discipline, which was basically a vertical hammer fist to the top of the head. He wisely ignore the crybaby-related remark, and kept his mouth shut. Yuna had once told him that 'A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult'. He did it mostly because girls seemed to be attracted to guys who weren't afraid to cry. He tested his theory often, especially after loosing a Blitzball game.
With the deposit on the Shoofpuff paid, the vanquishers of Sin loaded up and headed for the opposite bank and hopefully a nice dry Travel Agency to spend the night in. As the Shoopuff began its slow swim, the bushes by the docks rustled.
If you are interested in joining the Sitters, or any of the other groups, please contact the Spirian Job Corp.