M'by no means a writer or anything. This just something I started one Sunday morning, fuelled by a hot brew, with Parov Stelar blarin' in my ears!

Consider this my wee beginnings, from an Average Joe pessimistic human, to a clumsy demi-moogle! If you don't mind dreadful one-liners, the fourth wall being pushed over and utterly battered, silliness and the occasional ramble then read on and enjoy! It's only a short little thing, could probably improve on it, but here ya go!


The Start O' Somethin' Special!


“Right.. A long time ago in a galaxy far far awa- No.. They used that in that one film, with the shiny swords and robots. A Bug's Life or somethin' like that..” This little mix-up with pen unto paper set off a chain of other unholy.. ahem.. balls ups. One human was sat at his desk, in his lone wee house on a hill, hurriedly scrawling intros and startings to stories, failing to satisfy his painful perfectionism. Suffice to say, an hour passed and the ground was littered with balls of crumpled paper and broken pens n' pencils, which were “obviously broken, if they let him write this utter crap” ,in the boy's words. By Jove, the desperation of this otherwise plucky youth was literally drippin' off him at this stage. To put it bluntly he couldn't sing, he couldn't write and nor could he dance, which is weirdly similar to many the CV for the popular musician these days. Ooh bitchy! Errr, anyway.. Back to the plot.. what there is of it. Now, should this human keep up this trend of frustration and difficult quest for perfection in some field, he'll not make it past 40 due to strain. And the worst part? He knew it, but still he struggled on. A few more pieces of 'origami' on the floor and he finally chose to slide his chair out and grab his coat, intent on going for a walk, before his fist and the wall make a rather violent acquaintance. A quick step outside and already, there was a problem; it was cold enough to freeze the thingumibob off a monkey. Not one to give up so easily, he trotted off, holding himself to keep warm while grumbling, of course. “Let's live a on a massive hill, you said. It'll be so cool and unique. COOL? It's freezin'! Why doesn't someone just crap on me directly?” There are some things people with fluctuating luck shouldn't say, and that was one of them. Not a bundle of seconds passed when he let loose those words from his mouth before he heard a strange military beat, the dim hum of what sounded like aeroplanes intensifying. A quick glance up and to the right and what approached from the distance appeared to be some airborne v-formation. As the gap closed, a few squints here and there revealed a squadron of some species of bird, all loaded with.. well.. bowel-based bombs, to be so crude. Our human buddy over here responded with a pair of widened eyes and a whispered “Oh crap”, turning is non-existent tail and .. well.. leggin' it! Cue the whistling sound of objects flying through the air, followed by lil' splats on the ground. The militant weren't exactly good shots, but the multitude of them lead them to being dead set on nailing the boy smack on the head, to teach him to tempt fate in future. At this stage all that running for dear hygiene had given him a stabbing pain in the side, the fabled yet common side-stitch. “M'sorry, m'sorry, m'sorry!” Now repeat this a few times, coupled with frantic arm flailin' and slim legs going like the clappers and boom! You could play this sap in a play! The birds showed zero signs of stopping, and the boy was getting tired. Another cue here, but this time from a conveniently placed forest, inhabited by massive trees and who knows what else. Good ol' luck came through for him for once and without a second thought for his precious hairdo, a jump and a bound guided him under the sanctuary of huge-ass canopies and eerie natural shade. His 'attackers' were not so lucky, and instead of lifting up quickly and avoiding trunks and branches of the human's saviours, the crashed right into them, exploding on contact. How? Don't ask, smile and move on!

The outside of the forest beamed a fiery orange as feathers, ash and the occasional beak plummeted to the ground in an overly dramatic fashion. Tired, worn out and otherwise knackered, Mr. Why Am I So Unfit took a wee seat on an abnormally large toadstool, catching his breath and stuffing it back in his lungs. For fear of a second wave of lavatory humour, our 'hero' decided it would be best to hang around in this totally intimidating and not dangerous wolf, the sounds of unknown creatures baying, howling and squawking ahead of him. If this were a horror movie, you'd no doubt be rollin' your eyes and switching over to something more interesting. Joan Rivers on QVC for example! Anyways, the teen's desire to not get crapped on was much larger than his one for not going with clichés. So cautiously, he skipped over branches and stones and little critters, venturing into the forest. In typical eerie wood fashion an ominous mist lurked about the place, coupled with a haunting echo which repeated even the slightest sound. For example, a shoe snapping a twig in half, a lil' bird chirping in the distance or a low growl from whatever lurked in the bushes. Blissfully unaware that he could be some carnivores next meal, the human continued his trek. All that running, and the general exertion he was facing now led quite a thirst to build up inside. As such, that became his goal; find water! At this stage, if this was a normal forest and normal human bouncing through it, the following scene would be biting, blood and the sound a very happy, no longer hungry wolf or something. Thankfully, or not, depending on how you feel about Dopey here, his next little 'event' in life consisted of a small gathering of crystal clear water. That's not what attracted his eye though. Next to this tiny pond was a strangely shaped nut, a dull green light coming off it. Shoes off, buttocks on the ground and he picked it up, a daft grin on his face. “Gee, I'm pretty hungry. I better eat this weird thing I just found, glowing a strange colour, found in some spooky forest I know nothing about.” As his opened his mouth, a humongous slap thrashed across his face. The Hand of Cliché was a terrible thing to get hit by, as you never get to see who's responsible. ’Twas no different here as the boy recovered. His eyes scanned the area but not a guilty hand was in sight. He peered at the nut and just shrugged, throwing it over the shoulder, into the mouth of some poor creature that would soon be featured in a paper, the headline reading “Massive Flying Green Rat Spotted in Sky!”. Moving on, the unrealistically lucky human had completed his task to find water, and took no more moments to delay scooping his hand in and drinking from it. It didn't really taste like water however, despite it looking that way. No, it had a sweetness to it, like nothing ever tasted before. Honestly, a massive list could be written about this 'water', as it would have different effects for different people or creatures. This time, sweetness and, what the human was noticing now, narcotics were the dominant elements. Within a few seconds, the boy found himself stretching his arms and curling up, a blanket of sleep covering his mind.

A few hours later..

ROAR! ← If ever there was a good sound for waking people up, it was this one. No sooner had the sound echoed through the wood before the youth soon jumped up, eyes wide and unusually alert. The bushes moved ominously, a pair of haunting gold eyes peering through the blades of tall grass. If our 'protagonist' was an old lady, the next scene would probably be a funeral procession with squirrels as pall bearers. Rather than that though, our next event consisted off more running! Hooray! As Jumpy McScared made his exit from the pool, the lurking creature in the bushes gave a very wolfish chuckle and then moved on. If only the human knew that. For tales sake he didn't though, and continued his panic induced bound. In an uncharacteristically athletic leap, he grabbed the branch of a medium-sized tree, and began to clamber up to a reasonable height. Shakin' on the branch like a baby, his eyes peered down at the ground, scanning for hostilities and the like, but found nothing. A sigh of relief passed his lips, and finally he relaxed. A short-lived session of bliss however, as the forest now filled with the sound of a splintering crack. The teen's eyes peered towards the start of the branch and of course, it was breaking with his weight. “You would pick the flimsiest branch in all of Branchdom..” he said, rollin' his eyes again. Now, in order to not make a crater, he figured he'd have to creep back to the trunk of the tree. But each little bit he moved, the branch creaked and shook. It took him a while, but as good luck struck again and he made it past the break, half the branch falling to the ground. Remember how I mentioned fluctuating luck? Well, that very factor decided to u-turn on him. A few seconds passed and all of a sudden, in a silly turn of event, a tiny bird with an axe swooped through the wood, slicing the branch the boy was on. The branch fell, and he remained in mid-air, in typical comic fashion. This was just enough time for the bird to.. well.. flip the bird at his victim, the latter finally plummeting to the ground with a scream. At this point, you'd expect a loud crash followed by a painful owch. Rather though, all that was heard was two wings flapping. It wasn't the birds though..

Suspended above the the ground by about one foot, was our 'human' friend. His eyes were scrunched up, impending for impact. Once the penny dropped however, with a massively loud clang inside his head, he realised he was.. flying? Well, hovering to be exact. On his back now existed a pair of purple batlike wings, about a third of a meter in length each. The.. whatever he was now.. shifted his weight a bit, and landed on his feet and took a look at himself to see what the deal was. All he could tell to begin with was his shirt was missing, but once he moved his arms in front of him, a quick jump back ensued. He had.. paws! He let out a cry of surprise which in turn set off another bell in his head. “That sounded.. different..” He though, and moved his new appendage up to where his ear used to be. Nothing? He moved it up a bit and then felt something new; a fuzzy catlike ear! A move of the other paw, and he felt another! But he didn't look terrified or shocked, he actually smiled a bit. To see what else was new, a quick bounce off back from where he came earlier led him to the water. Kneeling by the water, he leant forward and looked at his reflection and was greeted by his new self. A pair of fuzzy white ears, a strange bouncin' red pom-pom in between and an even stranger happy-go-luckiness about his expression. No longer a fully fledged human, but rather now half a human and half a moogle. Hopping up to his feet again, flapping his wings very gently and pokin' his paws, he grinned. Whether it was the water, the half-mog mentality he was given or a creature that did something while he slept earlier.. he wasn't unhappy with predicament. Instead, the humanoid simply opened his mouth and let out the famous moogle sound; “Kupo!” An unlikely, probably impossible sequence of events occurred for this teen this day, but, as he began to skip towards where he entered the forest from, rubbing his paws together mischievously, it was certainly a day he'd remember forever..

The End!



Of course, I'll gladly accept criti-wotists and tips and general opinions! Thank ya for readin'! ^.-