Continuin' on from my first story! If you ever saw the Calamity James comics from The Beano, you might notice a bit of inspiration from 'em! :3

Aerodynamics


Now, if you didn't read the intro to Shorty's moogle predicament, a short story even shorter for you then; Human tries to write, gets cross, walks outside, gets bombed by birds, runs into forest, searches for water, drinks water, falls asleep, wakes up, gets scared, runs up a tree, branch falls, Shorty falls, doesn't crash, discovers he's a demi-moogle now. And that's all well and good, but there are a few adaptations he has to go through. For example, as the title up above suggests, he's got wings now. With reflexes zoomin' about his body, he can strive to master using them to his advantage or just leave 'em be and hope they don't get in his way. 'Course, why would you choose the latter? I don't know, maybe you have good reasons but in this demi-mog's case, he couldn't wait to take to the skies. Or at least attempt to..


Out with the ladder, smacked up against his house and, after a few cups of tea to get the cogs in his brain buzzing away, our excited hero was up on his house, greeted by an amazing view. A city in one direction, the wood of a story past in another with fields behind himself. A great big inhale of fresh air, hands on his hips and he was ready! But.. exactly where does he start? Given his eagerness and.. well.. idiocy, he assumed that his best bet was to just jump a great height. Thankfully, his wee house was just a bungalow, but he soon discovered that not only is it awkward to run on the slanted part of a roof, but also, plummeting from one and smacking into grass still stings like buggery. Unlike when fell out of the (possibly stupid) tree in the spooooooky forest, which could have killed him, this drop was just painful but not fatal. As such, his wings didn't kick in. Allow yourself to now imagine a half furry, half fleshy being whistling down to the ground with a panicked “Kupooooooooo!” followed by a pained “..ouch..” Off to the medicine cabinet for him! Boo-boos bandaged up and two paracetamol taken with another brew of fresh tea and he was soon on the familiar roof again. So jumping off didn't work, as it wasn't high enough. But he wasn't prepared to leap off Everest and hope it all works out either. Plopping his rump down on the flat part of the roof, he decided rather than rushing in head first and then getting a sore head, to think about different ways to use his wee purple appendages. Chin propped on a forepaw, legs crossed at the ankles and he was soon deep in thought. A few mumbles here and there, a mad scientist-like “Aha!” there and soon he was up again. Down the ladder, into the house and then scramble into Mad Search mode. To anyone passing by, what looked like an ordinary house to the was now releasing a cacophony of cartoony explosions, severed limbs, feathers, the odd cannonball and other assortments of randominity. A few minutes turned to an hour, before an almight call rang out “Found you, ya little bastard!” Out the house and up the ladder zipped Shorty, pom-pom bouncin' away. In his hand, a fairly standard black umrella with red rose print on one of the sections. This is what happens when your childhood consists of films about nannies in England with magic brollies, medicine, handbags and a bitchy attitude towards chimney sweeps. The goal here, as daft as it were, was to take a leap off the roof again, but instead of making a beeline to the terra firma below, the umbrella would magically hold up his weight and give his wings a chance to waken up. Cue the pounding of barefeet followed by a leap and a loud “Kupo!”


You might be wondering “What the heck happened next?” Well, far be it from me to withhold riveting tales of daring-do and misguided premonition, but what happened was so utterly grotesque that Shorty requested I just skip it, for fear of putting you off your Victoria sponge cake. What I will say though, is that umbrellas cannot keep demi-moogles up in the air, and freak rhinoceros stampedes chased by the seventy-three year old Ernest McBungle, the world's fastest and most short-sighted steamroller driver this side of the Nile do not pair well with crashed landed said demi-moogle. A bicycle pump soon had him right as rain though. A wee spell inside to recover from the incident-that-shall-not-be-described and woosh, up on the roof again our plot takes us. This time, he had another genius plan that couldn't possibly go wrong. While he was inside, the time was taken to rummage through a box of old goods. Catching Shorty's attention was an old PS1 case for Spyro Year of the Dragon! Oh the flood of memories in his little moogle mind. You might think “That's all well and good, but how's that going to help?” Well, if you remember the beginning of the game, you're taught how to glide and hover in Sunrise Spring by Hunter. Sure, Spyro's wings were much bigger in proportion to his body unlike Shorty, but still! Worth a shot, eh? Assuming the penny has dropped for ya, you'll understand that the demi-mog was now dead excited to give this ago. And, as luck would have it, a flat boulderesque thing lay in a field a few yards from the bottom of his hill. Perfect gliding distance, fuzzy ears thought. “If I land there, will I get a purple butterfly and an extra life? Or will a bipedal cheetah jump up and give me a dragon egg?” You can safely assume I'll be digging up my old game consoles after this! But before that, let's crack on. Taking care to practice before he leaps off the roof for the third time, Shorty lay on his stomach and tried to imagine having to manoeuvre in midair, to keep his body and wings in a gliding fashion. Not an easy task when you're stationary on your tummy, you should know. Suffice to say he soon got fed up and leaped to his feet, staring at his target. A few steps back and he was ready for another run up into the unknown realm of flight. Given how the hill slanted at this side of his house, the dive off would hopefully give him time to rise up and glide somewhat. “Here goes nothing..” passed his lips, breathing grinding to a slow and calm pace, heart pounding in at a contrasting speed against it. As if not a moment to lose, and he was away! Little legs going fifty to the dozen, in what seemed like a lifetime of a sprint. Planting his foot on the uttermost edge, bending his knee very slightly and then spring up in the air. Arms shot out, as if mimicking wings and soon enough he was on a nose dive towards the bottom of the hill.

'Twas a struggle, you gotta give him that. Just moving his arms back to his sides to let his actual wings do their job was painful enough, but now he had to lift and bend his body in such a way that he would move in the air and begin to glide. Still, he didn't let the panic inside let loose, keeping his cool until the very last second. If you were to slow this down and have a side view on the ground, you would have seen Shorty's nose just touch a blade of grass. It would be fair enough to have looked away, expecting to hear an almighty BLAM! or SPLAT!.. but in a moment of utter thaumaturgy, he rose! Not very high mind, but still, he managed to lift his head up and the rest of his body, his wings actually working! Ascending just enough so he had a clear glide towards the boulder, he let a big smile creep across his face, laughing very gently, given the air being pushed in his face making it difficult. He was doing it! Actually gliding in the air! Of course, he was no master at it now, and occassionally he dipped or lifted just by moving his feet unintentionally. The landing zone getting closer and closer and he couldn't contain his thrill, given what he was going achieve. He might be able to glide now, but he was still as clueless and dopey as before. “Woohoo!” followed by a raising of the arms while in midair was the biggest mistake any newbie of flight could make. As soon as he did that, he found his airborne status soon decline, dipping and moving wildy in the air. “Bugger..” he said, arms snapping to his sides again as if it would rectify this enormous cock-up. But no, sadly.. His wings started to release of big black clouds smoke, making noises similar to an engine about to pack up. Why? Gawd knows. Shooting over the boulder and moving wildly in the air, rocking from from side to side an d flailing his arms, now was a good time to panic he thought.. From a distance, this would have looked and sounded similar to a miniature biplane on it's last legs. And sure enough, he finally dived downwards to the ground at an angle, the sound of an aircraft that's just been shot down coming from him. Ensuing kabooms and kablewies emanated from the crash-site, but of course he wasn't hurt, that was just cinematics! Sure, the landing hurt a lot, but he did manage to scramble to his feet, still holding a smile on his face. Grass, mud and a beetle sat in his hair, but did he care? 'course not! He just achieved his first step on the way to flight. “Hmmm.. a few mattresses, special shoes and clothes maybe.. “ he muttered to himself as he trudged back towards his home, concocting all sorts of designs and ideas in his head. He'll master the skies one day.. one step and one leap at a time!

The End!

Cheers for readin'! I hope ya enjoyed~