Subj: [ffml] [MW] Confused? You won't be... (actually finished this time.)
Date: 99-11-23 18:42:37 EST
From: RaumKatze2@aol.com
Reply-to: ffml@onelist.com
To: ffml@onelist.com
Junior touched down outside of Vector. As he approached the town, he
thought about how he might go about finding his brother. When he got to the
gates of the town, the moogle guards let him in, assuming that he was one of
the many moogles who was on Mog's side. Even though he was obviously not a
fullbred moogle, Junior attracted surprisingly little attention. The moogles
had other things on their mind, such as their recent defeat at Tzen.
If he wanted to find his brother, General Turan, he would have to ask
somebody. He asked a few other moogles, and the concensus was that Turan was
at the local Starbucks (of course Vector has a Starbucks.)
Junior entered the shop. Most of the patrons were watching a poetry
slam. A man calling himself Lightly Salted Norman was putting on quite a
show on stage, and seemed to have everyone in the place on the edge of their
seats. Then Junior noticed someone at a table in the opposite corner of the
shop, who seemed to be oblivious to the poet on stage. It was a half moogle
with long, silver hair. Junior suddenly felt some anxiety. He suddenly got
the urge to go right back to his bedroom at the commune, and stay under the
covers in fetal position for the rest of his life. But he resisted this
urge. He had waited hundreds of years to meet someone else who could truly
relate to him. Even though the others back at the commune always accepted
him, and showed him respect, he always felt like he was different from them,
being a virtually immortal hybrid of species. None of them could feel what
he felt. Now was his chance to finally meet someone who could, someone who
he could truly call, "brother."
Junior walked to the table and sat down. Turan was still too absorbed
in his own inner lament to notice anything around him. He must have been
like that for a long time, since his coffee cup was still full, and it was
cold now.
Junior gently put his hand on Turan's shoulder. Turan looked up.
"Hello, brother," said Junior, The two embraced. Turan told Junior all about
his defeat by Kat and the Henriksens. Junior listened sympathetically, even
though he had an ethical problem with war. He and Turan may have had
fundamental differences of opinion when it came to such matters, they had far
more in common on another level to let those differences get in the way of
their fraternal bond.
After going on about the battle for a while, Turan changed the subject.
"I've been talking about myself so long," he said, "Let's talk about you.
Where've you been for the last 600 or so years? Father did tell me that I
had an older half-brother. He said that he discommunicated you because you
were you were not warlike enough, and that some anti-war group took you in.
He always told me that the group fell apart, and that you were never heard
from again."
"Well," said Junior, "That's only partially true. For one thing, the
group still exists. They're just not trying to influence society any more.
Also, I did not learn to be a pacifist until they took me in. Before he
kicked me out onto the street, I was as zealous for blood as Mog was."
"I don't get it," said Turan, "If you were like that, then why would
Mog disown you?"
"It was because I threatened to reveal his secret to the world."
"What secret??"
"You see, our father, Mog," Junior said, "Is secretly..."
He was inturpted when someone burst into the shop. Everyone in the
place stared. It was Mog! "Hey! I thought I told you not to ever come
back!"
"I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just wanted to meet my brother."
"Turan is just fine without your negative influence!" Mog turned to
Turan. "I don't know what he's told you, but it's all lies!" Mog held up a
sophisticated looking gun and pointed it at Junior. "Now it's time for me to
do something I should have done long ago."
"No!!" shouted Turan. Mog fired at Junior, but Turan jumped in the way
of the blast, sheilding his brother. Turan fell to the ground with a thud.
Is Turan dead?
What is Mog's terrible secret?
Will Mog shoot Junior too?
These questions and more will be answered in the next episode of Moogle War
III [Your turn, Eric.]
--------------------
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From: RaumKatze2@aol.com
Full-name: RaumKatze2
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Date: Tue, 23 Nov 1999 18:34:48 EST
Subject: [MW] Confused? You won't be...
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Junior touched down outside of Vector. As he approached the town, he
thought about how he might go about finding his brother. When he got to the
gates of the town, the moogle guards let him in, assuming that he was one of
the many moogles who was on Mog's side. Even though he was obviously not a
fullbred moogle, Junior attracted surprisingly little attention. The moogles
had other things on their mind, such as their recent defeat at Tzen.
If he wanted to find his brother, General Turan, he would have to ask
somebody. He asked a few other moogles, and the concensus was that Turan was
at the local Starbucks (of course Vector has a Starbucks.)
Junior entered the shop. Most of the patrons were watching a poetry
slam. A man calling himself Lightly Salted Norman was putting on quite a
show on stage, and seemed to have everyone in the place on the edge of their
seats. Then Junior noticed someone at a table in the opposite corner of the
shop, who seemed to be oblivious to the poet on stage. It was a half moogle
with long, silver hair. Junior suddenly felt some anxiety. He suddenly got
the urge to go right back to his bedroom at the commune, and stay under the
covers in fetal position for the rest of his life. But he resisted this
urge. He had waited hundreds of years to meet someone else who could truly
relate to him. Even though the others back at the commune always accepted
him, and showed him respect, he always felt like he was different from them,
being a virtually immortal hybrid of species. None of them could feel what
he felt. Now was his chance to finally meet someone who could, someone who
he could truly call, "brother."
Junior walked to the table and sat down. Turan was still too absorbed
in his own inner lament to notice anything around him. He must have been
like that for a long time, since his coffee cup was still full, and it was
cold now.
Junior gently put his hand on Turan's shoulder. Turan looked up.
"Hello, brother," said Junior, The two embraced. Turan told Junior all about
his defeat by Kat and the Henriksens. Junior listened sympathetically, even
though he had an ethical problem with war. He and Turan may have had
fundamental differences of opinion when it came to such matters, they had far
more in common on another level to let those differences get in the way of
their fraternal bond.
After going on about the battle for a while, Turan changed the subject.
"I've been talking about myself so long," he said, "Let's talk about you.
Where've you been for the last 600 or so years? Father did tell me that I
had an older half-brother. He said that he discommunicated you because you
were you were not warlike enough, and that some anti-war group took you in.
He always told me that the group fell apart, and that you were never heard
from again."
"Well," said Junior, "That's only partially true. For one thing, the
group still exists. They're just not trying to influence society any more.
Also, I did not learn to be a pacifist until they took me in. Before he
kicked me out onto the street, I was as zealous for blood as Mog was."
"I don't get it," said Turan, "If you were like that, then why would Mog
disown you?"
"It was because I threatened to reveal his secret to the world."
"What secret??"
"You see, our father, Mog," Junior said, "Is secretly..."
He was inturpted when someone burst into the shop. Everyone in the
place stared. It was Mog! "Hold it right there, Junior!!" he shouted,
"Turan! Step away from him!" Mog held up a very sophisticated-looking gun.
Turan stay right where he was. "Step away from him, I said" Mog screamed.
"No!!" shouted Turan. Mog fired at Junior, but Turan jumped in the
way of the blast, sheilding his brother. Turan fell to the ground with a thud.
From: His Dark Lordship
Mog suddenly looked shocked.
"I..."
Junior looked at his brother.
Mog shook his head.
"Fuck it." he turned to some of the customers. "You! Get him to the
infirmiry! NOW!"
Several Moogles panickly grabbed Turan and ran off.
Junior looked at Mog.
"You didn't have to shoot me."
"Quiet, bastard. I haven't decided what to do with you yet."
* * * * * * * *
Mog sighed. He sat in his office, working on paperwork, as per usual.
"Junior" had been placed in custody for now, while Turan was recieving
surgery. Mog swore to himself.
Moreen, the Whore under his desk, poked up.
"Hon, I don't seem to be having much effect on you." she said. "Is something
wrong."
Mog sighed.
"It ain't working. Come back later."
She slowly crawled out and stole away.
Mog sat there. All these years he had hidden it, except from his personal
whores and queens. In a kingdom of sexual bliss and freedom, he had one
form of shame.
He felt a pair of steely eyes staring into him. He swung about.
"WHAT!?!" he yelled disgustedly. It was Cartman.
"Dude, I hear you shot your kid. Weak, man."
"Shut up." Mog grumbled.
Cartman mumbled something about a hippie and walked off.
The door to his office opened.
"Dammit!" yelled Mog. "Can't I have one moment of peace!?!"
"Actually, you're the one normally holding a meeting." said Doctor Kefka.
Mog grumbled.
"What do you want?"
"Since none of the military has returned, I'm in need of some new materials
to continue Vector's Magitek program, since the last one went defunct when
you and your friends stopped me." chuckled Kefka. "Or so you thought."
"How the hell did you make it through, anyway?" Mog needed something to
lighten his mood.
Kefka chuckled.
"Simple. I foresaw my own defeat. The one you fought was my Shadow."
Kefka laughed nefariously.
"Knowing taking you on would mean the fall of my reign, I went to sleep,
hoping to come back and finish where I left off. Unfortunetly, you killed
my legacy."
"Well so-rry." grumbled Mog.
The door opened again. Denar strolled through.
"My double agent has some new information for us."
Mog smiled. His mind was off his issue.
"Good, good. Who would have thought they wouldn't have suspected that
facist."
Kefka laughed.
"So what's our info?" asked Mog.
"The Lance Henriksens are worried that we are going to move onto Albrook
soon. To prevent that, they have divied their forces between the two."
Denar smiled. "Making either target more likely."
"Or we can shock them and take out Maranda." said Kefka.
"Later." said Mog. "I must ponder this. Go."
They both left. Several minutes later, Kefka came back in.
"What about Magitek materials?"
"Do whatever you want." said Mog.
However, solitude didn't help. Mog's mind drifted back to his problem.
He sighed.
"I guess I can't hide it forever..." he muttered.
* * * * * * * * *
Cyan stared at the two.
Adolf Hitler and Michael Jordan had returned a few days before, with many
moogle slaves in tow, supposedly ready to fight Mog. Cyan stared at them
grimly.
"What burst of cowardice compells two fine men to overrun a neutral
hamlet!?!" he yelled.
"Zeig Heil." said Adolf.
"We felt the need to eliminate potential problems." Jordan squeezed Adolf's
hand. Despite their attempts to hide it, everyone could tell they were
going together.
"I dost not giveth a rat's ass. As of now ye both act out decisions of the
council's. Not thine own. Dismissed."
Jordan and Adolf walked out.
"Bastard." muttered Adolf.
* * * * * * * *
The Dark Lord looked on in his throne of jaws. The events reflected in his
eyes, though not was in front of him.
"Yes... all goes according to plan..."
--
The eternal lord of darkness...