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Remixed	By : krissifer Category: Final Fantasy X > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Remixed

Atka uv Cyhedo [Vuin]
Summary: Inside Zanarkand Stadium, Gippal reflects on what he's been told. Swept up in the excitement of the Blitzball game, he wonders if being stuck here would be such a bad thing, after all...

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

Archiving: Ask. I don't bite often...

Notes: I blame this ending on the cold meds. So hopefully, this will turn out to be a major turning point in the storyline. It's starting to branch away from just Gippal and Baralai's story, which I'm hoping will also make the chapters longer. Hopefully. I do try to please, and continuing in that tradition, I'd like to make a side-note as to why I decided to make Gippal all...blitzball-player-y, since The Final Fantasy Warrior brought it up. In my eyes, there's a certain danger to Blitzball itself. You're submerged in water for five minutes, for crying out loud. There's ALWAYS the possiblity that this could be the one time your lungs give out. It would be a rush, I imagine, if you're into that kind of thing. Gippal seems to be the kind of person to take risks. Put the two together, and there's my explaination. Either that, or Baralai made an embarassing remark about Blitzball players being hot once, way back when. *grin* Maester!Paine has her own explaination, but she'll explain it herself later. As in SuprisinglyTwistySpecialEnding!later.

The roar of the crowd in the stadium was a sound he couldn't help but respond to, the same sound that had spurred him on his entire life. He lived for the crowd, for his audience, real or imagined. It was why he had wanted to join the Crusaders, why he had tried for the Crimson Squad, why he had started the Machine Faction.
None of that exists.
He made a face, that little voice in the back of his head a constant annoyance. It had been there since that morning, reminding him at every turn that this wasn't his life. Or maybe that it was his life, everything he "knew" to be true just a dream. He just didn't know anymore.
With a sigh, he took his seat, and slid one arm coyly over the back of Baralai's chair. The Summoner -- that's what he was in this life, anyway -- blushed softly beneath all that tanned skin, and offered up the tub of popcorn he had purchased.
"Hun'gy?" he asked, through a mouthful of the buttery treat, and Gippal couldn't help but laugh. It was a soft, slow laugh, bubbling from his stomach, barely loud enough to merit the indignant pout of his companion. He reached over, ruffling the gorgeous white locks, before stuffing a handful of the popcorn into his mouth.
Baralai turned to him, a thoughtful look on his face. He seemed to want to say something, to have a need for discussing....Interruption seemed to be the keyword of the day, though, as a tap on his shoulder engaged him in conversation with a young woman. Gippal had to look twice, for a moment; it looked much like the Lady Yuna, though her features were more rounded, her hair much longer. Her eyes held a spark of innocence that rivaled even Rikku, and Gippal fought back a laugh as he diverted his attention.
Baralai's recounting of Macalania had held not a few surprises, the biggest having been Paine. Not so much Paine's sudden appearance -- being trapped a thousand years in the past seemed to take away the fun of seeing familiar faces -- but her role. Maester of Bevelle.
Never figured her for the religious type, he had told Baralai, jokingly. A joke that would have gotten a laugh from his snow-haired friend (and lover, apparently)...but not in this reality. A look of horror had crossed Baralai's face, a soft pink blush staining his cheeks.
Gippal! he had cried, indignant, swatting the Al Bhed with the nearest throw pillow. you mustn't disrespect the Lady like that!
Gippal hadn't seen the disrespect, but then again, this wasn't his time. Or maybe it was, and...
Over-analyzing again.
He sighed in frustration, slinking down in his chair. A quick glance over to Baralai, just to make sure he was still engaged in his conversation with -- what was her name? Lisa? Linda? Lerona? Something like that.
Gippal never was good with names.
He was turning back, ready to focus on the game ahead, the game that seemed to be his one real link to whichever reality was the real one and whichever one was the illusion, when he felt a whisper of fingers over his neck. Nearly jumping out of his seat, he managed to spill Baralai's tub of popcorn when he twirled around. His eye was wide, and he took a fighting stance.
"Tuh'd TU dryd!" he cried, letting out the breath he had pulled in. Crimson eyes were alight with amusement, and the Maester simply shook her head.
"Always speaking in gibberish, Sir Gippal. You should take care that some ambitious young thing doesn't have you thrown away for being possessed," Paine told him, her lips twisted in a smirk.
At least she still has a sense of humor, he thought, his muscles slowly relaxing. Baralai had barely acknowledged the attack on his popcorn, and his face was serious as he and his lady-friend spoke in soft whispers.
"I've heard you're having problems with your memory, Gippal. More than you usually have." Paine was barely supressing a grin, a fact that only someone who had known her for years (at least in some reality) would realize. Gippal just grinned.
"I don't remember."
That smart-ass remark earned him a smart slap on the shoulder. He stuck a gleeful tongue out, yelping when Paine -- Maester Paine -- grabbed it between her thumb and forefinger.
"Didn't Baralai teach you not to stick this out unless you plan on using it?" she whispered, sly grin creeping over her face.
"LEHGO!" Gippal cried out, at once trying to gnaw his tongue off and spin away from her grip. He could see Baralai's conversation pause, and both he and the woman -- The HELL was her name?! -- laughed merrily. Paine just shook her head, letting the appendage go.
"You're such a child sometimes," she sighed, pressing a white-gloved hand to her forehead.
"Now that we're past all that, I need to know something."
That always waspal'pal's nature, no matter the situation. He never thought before he spoke, not really, and would turn a fun conversation into a deeply serious one without batting his eye. Paine paused, her hands settling into her lap slowly, one eyebrow quirked.
"Ask away. My life is a closed book." The grin had re-appeared, and her eyes sparkled lightly. She looked as though she hadn't been able to have fun in months, maybe a year.
"Why did you become a Maester, of all things?"
Open mouth, insert foot. All traces of Paine's grin melted from her face, and the sparkle in her eyes faded to a simple, dull reflection of light. Her voice lowered, dangerously, that same tone she would use in the Crimson Squad days. Warning. Fiend approaching. Oh look, it's a Sinspawn. Apocalypses and the like.
"I told you to stop asking me that, eteud." Her sudden use of Al Bhed stunned him. At once, he felt a shiver run down his spine. This reality, this time...no one knew of the Al Bhed. Those that saw one or two thought them heretics, and they were punished. Severely. To speak their language...unheard of, even for a Maester. Where this sudden knowledge came from, Gippal didn't know.
Maybe this IS my own life...
He shook his head, and that one pleading, piercing eye stared up at the Lady.
"But--"
"Don't you dare 'but' me, Gippal. My motives will be clear when the time is right. You know that."
Trust Paine to be the same, he thought. Irony. Even here, she concealled herself, her reasons...everything. Gippal just sighed, and turned quickly to glance at Baralai. His beloved, his heartling, was kissing his lady-friend on the cheek, very lightly, bidding her goodbye.
And when he turned back to say his goodbyes to the Maester, she had dissappeared.
And then, the staduim exploded into brilliant white light. The crowd roared, and photograph-taking machina flashed on and off. The players were entering the Sphere.
The games were about to begin.
------
Elsewhere...
"He speaks the language of the heretics." Soft, dangerous.
"You don't have a choice. You have to tell the High Summoner." Sad, innocent.
"But he's...he's like my brother." Voice cracking. Unusual.
"But he's one of them."
"So are you."
Pause.
"I can't help who I am. My father married into it." Lost.
"He can't help who he is, either."
"But he does nothing to convert!" Cracking. Straining.
"Maybe we're the heretics, not him."
A gasp.
"Don't you dare repeat that! By Yevon, they'll hang you in this very stadium, as a halftime show!"
Snort.
"They wouldn't hang me here, not in Zanarkand, not to upstage Lenne. That would put His Highness the Star Player in a depression. Can't have that." Sarcasm. Hatred.
"You're no better than a heretic. How can you call yourself a Maester?!"
"I uphold a value much older than Yevon."
"Then start your own religion, your own following!"
"You know I can't do that. Not with the Summoners wielding so much power."
"So what are you going to do?"
Another pause. Thoughtful. Wicked grin.
"Ee the those lying hypocrites in Bevelle, before they take over the entire world."
A sigh, soft laughter.
"You're insane, you know that? Be careful, Paine."
The grin reached her crimson eyes this time, and the Maester Paine touched her companion's hand gently. The other was hidden, obscured by the shadows; there were always people watching her.
"Only if you promise the same."

*~*Aht Bynd Veja*~*
Title: Edge of Sanity [Four]

Tuh'd TU dryd!: Don't DO that!

eteud: idiot

Aht Bynd Veja: End Part Five.
- 4
- 5
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