Daxam — Roleplayer Guild

"<<Zac, you've mixed the powder correctly, right?>>" a woman calls in Bedohl, her voice carrying easily through the air, even with everything else going on. The woman was rather short, with long blond hair and the green, spiral-pupiled eyes, a signature trait of the Al Bhed people.

"<<Yes, Mom!>>" a dark-haired man yells back from a table, where he was carefully pouring powder into one of the many rockets, which would be used for the fireworks later on.

"<<I sure hope so!>>" his mother calls back from where she was loading the already-made fireworks into their launchers. "<<You know what'd happen if you mixed them wrong, right?>>"

"<<A lot of things, none of them good!>>" Zac replies, using the same words she had told him time and time again before today.

All day, he had spent mixing the powder for the fireworks, making sure to use just the right combination of the parts that made up said powder to give the rockets the most vibrant color he can...without risk of setting anything on fire. In the weeks before this, his mother had made it a point to drill the recipe into his head by having him practice over and over again, much to the chagrin of their neighbors. He and his mother had taken this very seriously: if there were any major deviations in the powder mixture, people could get hurt, after all.

He had just finished his nth firework (Zac had lost count a long while ago) when he felt a finger tap his shoulder. Looking back, he sees his mother standing there with a smile. "Hold out your hand," she says. Zac does as she asks, then finds a few hundred gil where there was nothing, previously. "Your payment for your work," she says. "The rest of the day's yours, Zac; go enjoy it."

Grinning, Zac slips the gil into his pocket and says, "Thanks. I'll try not to spend it all in one place!" And, with that, Zac was gone, heading toward the festival proper. Once there, he looks around. People from all over Spira had come to celebrate the 500th anniversary of Sin's defeat. Whether they came for the Blitzball game, the reenactment, the fireworks, or, simply, just to be there, it was clear that everyone was there to have a good time, which made Zac grin.

He had just gotten some food from a stall when he heard a couple of people talking a few stalls over. Looking down the row, he sees a Ronso speaking with an Al Bhed merchant. Seeing the thick glasses on the merchant, Zac sighs. Looks like Ter's trying to swindle someone again, he thinks, the merchant well-known by him for being rather stingy. In the past, his mother had attempted to sell him at least five thousand gil worth of scrap, which she had collected over the years, and he wouldn't budge from paying any more than a thousand, until Zac's mother threatened to sell to someone else.

It was only when the Ronso turned to walk off that Zac saw what Ter had bought from him. Is that what I think it is...? he thinks as he watches the merchant carry it away. A moment later, Zac finds himself jogging after the Ronso, who he could easily keep track of, thanks to the fact that the Ronso was so much taller than everyone else.

When Zac finally catches up to him, having not seen the spirit of the blue Ronso, he taps the albino Ronso's shoulder (or as high up as he could reach) to get his attention as he says, "You've been to the Mushroom Rock Road battlefield, haven't you?"
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Vincent Van Le-Gogh

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