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Entry tags:
FFIV & FFX-2: Culture Shock (1)
Fandom: Final Fantasy IV & Final Fantasy X-2
Pairing: None
Warnings: Crossover
Chapter: One
Rating: PG
Summary: An ancient machina lands Gippal in a completely different world. For multi-chapter fics, pairings and warnings are chapter specific.
It's an interesting machina, and Gippal won't trust it to anyone else. It's all in bits across the floor of the room he claims for a work room, and it has been for weeks and he's no closer to an answer, but he's not bored yet, either. He wants to know what it is, what it does, he wants to tweak it, he wants to be the one who makes it work.
It's rare for something to catch him like that and the Machine Faction tread softly, respectful and reverent. It's odd to find Gippal working at all hours of the day and night, odd to wonder where he is and find out he's in the temple. Normally he's everywhere else, and always when you need him.
But even when they think they need him, they don't summon him, because he sits there with his lip caught between his teeth and a piece of machina in each hand.
He likes it, the challenge, because it's something new and interesting and more complex than he'd ever thought a machina could be. Part of it was curiosity, part of it was sheer stubbornness that he kept his reputation of being able to do anything with machina intact. And the thing takes shape, gradually, under his hands.
And when it's finished, it's smaller than he expects it to be. Compact. It doesn't look like much despite all the bits that went into it, all the bits that he could barely identify, and it's full of guesswork and pure luck. But he knows it's right, that he's done it, and pride wells up in the wake of the knowledge.
Next he has to figure out how to make it work.
----
"King Edward!"
Edge winces at the name and comes back to reality, sitting up straight in his throne and feeling Gramps' displeasure like a cold winter breeze down the back of his neck. The look on the soldier's eyes captures his interest and he stands, ignoring Gramps' whispered warning to stay seated.
Fuck Gramps. Edge is sure he knows how to run Eblan, and he'd show Gramps if Gramps wasn't so intent on showing him. He gathers up his cloak, raising an eyebrow at the soldier. "Well, lead the way."
"Sir?"
The confusion on the soldier's face makes him roll his eyes. "Outside? To see whatever you've found, yes?"
"How did you...?"
"There's mud on your shoes."
The soldier's smile is both mystified and pleased as he swings round to follow orders. With a glance at Grumpy, Edge follows the soldier, not caring what his grandfather thinks anyway.
"Report," he says, crisply, and the soldier stiffens a little until he's ordered to relax.
"Well, sir, we were patrolling the perimeter and we heard a loud bang. We thought it might be an attack, even though we weren't sure who would be attacking. We saw a bright light and thought there might be a bomb or some kind of fire. But when we went in that direction, we couldn't see anything. We checked the area and we found a strange guy laying unconscious there."
"You haven't moved him?"
"No, sir. I was sent to find you and ask what should be done."
"Well done." Edge gives the praise easily, but the soldier looks gratified and pleased, and there'll be one more tale of King Edward's kindness before the night is through. Edge wins his people's hearts, whether Gramps likes it or not. "So where exactly is this guy?"
"This way, sir," the soldier says, and he walks a little faster, and Edge follows, relaxed and easy.
The man is sitting up when they get there, dazed looking and confused, but awake and apparently not injured. Edge runs a critical eye over him. Not a thief, he thinks, a fighter, some big kinda weapon. He's missing an eye or something, because he wears an eyepatch, and he has blond hair, and there's something odd about his remaining eye, too, but Edge can't put a finger on it.
The man's voice, when he speaks, is a jolt, too, and the language is strange, and the fact that the language is strange makes it even stranger, because Edge has studied every language that anyone knows how to teach. "Frana eh Spira ys E?"
"Do you speak in this language?" Edge asks, carefully.
"Not Al Bhed..." the man says, wonderingly, and then gets up, brushing himself off. Edge waves off the soldiers who tense up, hands on weapons. "I'm Gippal."
He says it as if he expects Edge to know who he is. Edge racks his brain quickly but can't come up with anything, so he settles for trying to meet the one visible eye. "I'm King Edward of Eblan."
"...Of where?"
-----
When they get it all straightened out, Edge almost wants to think it's a crazy dream, but there the 'Al Bhed' sits, with his knowledge of that language and his outlandish clothes and his tales of a world that had been as tortured, or maybe more tortured, than the land Edge knows. After all, Eblan Castle has only been rebuilt once. The world Gippal speaks of has been rebuilt time and time again.
Privately, he hopes that Gippal has amnesia or something. That he's perfectly normal, really. Or a madman. Because the idea of another world out there terrifies Edge, for no reason other than the fact that it was unknown and completely alien.
But amnesiac, alien or mad, Gippal could probably use a drink, so Edge pours one, handing it to him carefully. "Alcohol. Be careful."
Gippal snorts and takes a swallow, and then his eye widens. "Shit."
Edge grins. "Good shit."
And Gippal laughs. He laughs so easily. Edge can't feel uncomfortable about him, however alien he is. And, after all the talking, he could use a drink too, so he gets one for himself and sits down.
"It's hard to take in. All that stuff about Spira, and Sin, and Yevon..."
"Trust me, the kids who learn the history back at home aren't going to like it. And I haven't even mentioned Vegnagun and Shuyin yet." Gippal makes a face and drinks again. "Not sure I want to, either."
"I guess it must be easier to understand all the stuff about this world. Zeromus and the moon and..." Edge stops at the look on Gippal's face and raises an eyebrow.
"No. It's not easier." Gippal grins, sloshing the drink around in his glass. "It's hard to believe I'm on a whole 'nother world. Knew that machina was special. Didn't think this special."
They both laugh.
Pairing: None
Warnings: Crossover
Chapter: One
Rating: PG
Summary: An ancient machina lands Gippal in a completely different world. For multi-chapter fics, pairings and warnings are chapter specific.
It's an interesting machina, and Gippal won't trust it to anyone else. It's all in bits across the floor of the room he claims for a work room, and it has been for weeks and he's no closer to an answer, but he's not bored yet, either. He wants to know what it is, what it does, he wants to tweak it, he wants to be the one who makes it work.
It's rare for something to catch him like that and the Machine Faction tread softly, respectful and reverent. It's odd to find Gippal working at all hours of the day and night, odd to wonder where he is and find out he's in the temple. Normally he's everywhere else, and always when you need him.
But even when they think they need him, they don't summon him, because he sits there with his lip caught between his teeth and a piece of machina in each hand.
He likes it, the challenge, because it's something new and interesting and more complex than he'd ever thought a machina could be. Part of it was curiosity, part of it was sheer stubbornness that he kept his reputation of being able to do anything with machina intact. And the thing takes shape, gradually, under his hands.
And when it's finished, it's smaller than he expects it to be. Compact. It doesn't look like much despite all the bits that went into it, all the bits that he could barely identify, and it's full of guesswork and pure luck. But he knows it's right, that he's done it, and pride wells up in the wake of the knowledge.
Next he has to figure out how to make it work.
"King Edward!"
Edge winces at the name and comes back to reality, sitting up straight in his throne and feeling Gramps' displeasure like a cold winter breeze down the back of his neck. The look on the soldier's eyes captures his interest and he stands, ignoring Gramps' whispered warning to stay seated.
Fuck Gramps. Edge is sure he knows how to run Eblan, and he'd show Gramps if Gramps wasn't so intent on showing him. He gathers up his cloak, raising an eyebrow at the soldier. "Well, lead the way."
"Sir?"
The confusion on the soldier's face makes him roll his eyes. "Outside? To see whatever you've found, yes?"
"How did you...?"
"There's mud on your shoes."
The soldier's smile is both mystified and pleased as he swings round to follow orders. With a glance at Grumpy, Edge follows the soldier, not caring what his grandfather thinks anyway.
"Report," he says, crisply, and the soldier stiffens a little until he's ordered to relax.
"Well, sir, we were patrolling the perimeter and we heard a loud bang. We thought it might be an attack, even though we weren't sure who would be attacking. We saw a bright light and thought there might be a bomb or some kind of fire. But when we went in that direction, we couldn't see anything. We checked the area and we found a strange guy laying unconscious there."
"You haven't moved him?"
"No, sir. I was sent to find you and ask what should be done."
"Well done." Edge gives the praise easily, but the soldier looks gratified and pleased, and there'll be one more tale of King Edward's kindness before the night is through. Edge wins his people's hearts, whether Gramps likes it or not. "So where exactly is this guy?"
"This way, sir," the soldier says, and he walks a little faster, and Edge follows, relaxed and easy.
The man is sitting up when they get there, dazed looking and confused, but awake and apparently not injured. Edge runs a critical eye over him. Not a thief, he thinks, a fighter, some big kinda weapon. He's missing an eye or something, because he wears an eyepatch, and he has blond hair, and there's something odd about his remaining eye, too, but Edge can't put a finger on it.
The man's voice, when he speaks, is a jolt, too, and the language is strange, and the fact that the language is strange makes it even stranger, because Edge has studied every language that anyone knows how to teach. "Frana eh Spira ys E?"
"Do you speak in this language?" Edge asks, carefully.
"Not Al Bhed..." the man says, wonderingly, and then gets up, brushing himself off. Edge waves off the soldiers who tense up, hands on weapons. "I'm Gippal."
He says it as if he expects Edge to know who he is. Edge racks his brain quickly but can't come up with anything, so he settles for trying to meet the one visible eye. "I'm King Edward of Eblan."
"...Of where?"
When they get it all straightened out, Edge almost wants to think it's a crazy dream, but there the 'Al Bhed' sits, with his knowledge of that language and his outlandish clothes and his tales of a world that had been as tortured, or maybe more tortured, than the land Edge knows. After all, Eblan Castle has only been rebuilt once. The world Gippal speaks of has been rebuilt time and time again.
Privately, he hopes that Gippal has amnesia or something. That he's perfectly normal, really. Or a madman. Because the idea of another world out there terrifies Edge, for no reason other than the fact that it was unknown and completely alien.
But amnesiac, alien or mad, Gippal could probably use a drink, so Edge pours one, handing it to him carefully. "Alcohol. Be careful."
Gippal snorts and takes a swallow, and then his eye widens. "Shit."
Edge grins. "Good shit."
And Gippal laughs. He laughs so easily. Edge can't feel uncomfortable about him, however alien he is. And, after all the talking, he could use a drink too, so he gets one for himself and sits down.
"It's hard to take in. All that stuff about Spira, and Sin, and Yevon..."
"Trust me, the kids who learn the history back at home aren't going to like it. And I haven't even mentioned Vegnagun and Shuyin yet." Gippal makes a face and drinks again. "Not sure I want to, either."
"I guess it must be easier to understand all the stuff about this world. Zeromus and the moon and..." Edge stops at the look on Gippal's face and raises an eyebrow.
"No. It's not easier." Gippal grins, sloshing the drink around in his glass. "It's hard to believe I'm on a whole 'nother world. Knew that machina was special. Didn't think this special."
They both laugh.
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Gippal is lovely. It's a pity you don't have a PS2 'cause FFX-2 is a very pretty game. Complete fanservice, but very pity. xD
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you're--you're so heartless! DD':
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I know, I'm evil, but they actually agreed on it themselves before they poked me with it. The voices in my head made me do it!
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Awesome. :D
"Shit."
Edge grins. "Good shit."
That = perfect.
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I can't seem to get away from Gippal and Edge drinking together. D'oh. Note to self, keep them away from the alcohol next chapter! :D
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If only I had just a smidgeon of artistic talent, I'd draw that scene from Nice Boots when Gippal first starts talking and buying drinks.
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