Subj: [ffml] [MW] Transcessions
Date: 00-01-27 08:31:15 EST
From: darklord@compusmart.ab.ca (His Dark Lordship)
Reply-to: ffml@onelist.com
To: ffml@onelist.com (ffml)
From: His Dark Lordship
Turan had changed overnight. Mog had been somewhat worried of late, but
decided not to bother him about it. Mog instead had been working on the new
body for Junior as he prepared for the big assault on Southvale in Doma.
Continual meetings with Dr. Kefka had assured Mog his design was complete.
He was to meet at the research facility today, and Mog was certainly eager
to see if it went through.
He was not disapointed. THe new body was a gigantic metal monstrousity
designed to resemble a Moogleboar. Rather than focus on projectiles like
most of the regiment did, this was fitted with two gigantic claws. Rather
than having a cockpit, it had a gigantic fanged head, and a small
compartment where Junior would fit in.
Mog chuckled. Kefka himself was impressed with what he had done. Junior in
his old machine strolled up.
Mog nodded to Kefka. Kefka nodded to the soldiers. The compartment opened
slowly as a drenched Moogle/Human hybrid fell out. He gasped for air after
puking out a colourless liquid and evaporated as soon as it left his
mouth.
He looked up. He saw Mog, he saw Kefka, he saw several heartless soldiers.
He was no fool, he knew what he had done, he recalled the people he slew,
the... but that wasn't him! He thought, but he did give the order and
enjoyed the sight. But he didn't wish to be in...
His train of thought was cancelled as the two soldiers hoisted him into the
new goliath. He screamed.
"Father! No! This is not my life!"
"Your life sucked anyway." chuckled Kefka. "Load 'im in!"
Junior screamed once more as he was thrown into the goliath and the seal
closed. He banged against it. This one didn't have a glass window, he
couldn't see out. No one could hear him scream. Junior lowered his voice to
a wimper, and then let out tears.
"I... I don't want to be this..." he cried. He looked up to the black metal
void above him. "Please, if there's anything out there.. help me!"
He felt the liquid touch his toes, numming them. Again, tears filled his
eyes. He hammered his hands against the seal. No luck, his enhanced
biological being was powerless against this. He cried again, but the liquid
was moving up rapidly. His tears could not extinguish the cold liquid.
He sobbed. "Anyone! Anything!"
The Liquid was at his shoulders now. Through it, with what little nerves he
had left, he felt the metal prick of sensors entering his arms and legs.
As his jaw began to freeze up, he let out on last prayer to the empty void.
He was immersed in the liquid.
This was not him. This would never be him. He was not a murderer, the
murders were Mog's doing. He was a pacifist. He would always be a
pacifist.
His inner brain ached as the metal rod penetrated it.
He was not a murderer. He was a pacifist. He was not a murderer. He was a
pacifist. He was not a pacifist. He was a murderer.
Slowly, the bloodlust began to fill in Junior's mind. A soldier who just
finished painting "Junior" on his leg looked to be a suitable sacrifice. He
grasped the soldier between his claws. He saw it screaming through his new
eyes, but heard nothing. Nothing that he cared about, anyway. He tore the
soldier in two, covering the claws in a deep, red crimson.
Mog looked at Kefka.
"I hope you didn't need that soldier."
Kefka looked at the soldier, then at junior.
"Nah!" he shaked his head and walked back into the keep.
* * * * * * * *
Mog walked back into the palace. He was glad this was the final model. If he
had to look at his offspring like that one more time, he was sure he would
loose it.
He strolled into his throne room. Turan whirled about.
"F.. father, I wasn't expecting you."
"I can see that, son. Get out of my chair."
Turan chuckled and hopped out.
"Father.." he asked. "How long do you plan on running this organization."
"Long time.." chuckled Mog. "Trust me, you're better off as a General. Tell
you what, you go lead the infantry for the assault on Southvale."
"Actually, father." said Turan. "I would perfer if I remained here."
"And why is that?"
Turan's mind raced. He couldn't tell Mog about Mogomra, how he was learning
about immense powers he'd never dreamed of. And he couldn't tell Mog that
his mother, Sephiroth, was near. He sighed.
"Very well, I will go to Southvale."
"Good!" said Mog. "The last force leaves tommorrow. Get ready."
Turan walked out. Mog almost thought he heard him mutter an obscenity. He
sighed.
The entire place was turning upside down. He would enjoy having the place to
himself for awhile.
Cartman strolled in.
"Suh." he said. "Ah think I've found some information that might be of use
to you."
"Go on." said Mog.
"Two individuals who were affiliated with you in the last war are in town."
Mog blinked.
"They go by the names of Drugga, and Sephiroth."
Mog jumped up.
"Sephiroth? Then Turan..." he shook his head. "Thank you, Cartman. That is
all."
"Right." said Cartman, waddling out.
Cartman grumbled to himself. This whole opporation was falling apart. But,
the Dark Lord insisted that he would be good for the job. Ah well, Cartman
thought, these moogle hippies were doomed anyway.
He sat down and began writing a note.
Dear Stan and Kyle
I am writing to inform you that I am in the technological
capital of Vector working for the Moogles, which aren't as cool
as the Ewoks of Endor but come close. I should tell you that we
are going to invade the northern nation of Doma, and from there
victory will be ours. I hate you guys, Cartman.
Stan put down the letter.
"That son of a bitch!" he yelled.
"Well, Stan, look at it this way, he's gonna be out there fighting and-aw
nevermind." grumbled Kyle.
"Mmm Mmmman mm m mon mm m mitch!" grumbled Kenny.
--
The eternal lord of darkness...
"And if our dreams sometimes come true, then what of our nightmares?"
-GM of FF2c
-Former ruler of the ffml
ICQ UIN# 23424269
IRC Nicks: TheDarkLord, GannondorfDragmire, occasionally Blackthorne
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Date: Thu, 27 Jan 2000 06:29:36 -0700
From: His Dark Lordship
Reply-to: ffml@onelist.com
Subject: [ffml] [MW] Transcessions
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