[A/N]: Mmmkay. This is kinda a futuristic sorta thing. What if Gruntilda conquered Isle o' Hags? Banjo meets Kazooie and join together to stop her reign of darkness. Keep in mind that Kaz is in her anthromorphic form, which means she has longer, straighter legs, stands upright and is much taller than she is in the game. I stole some of the scenes in this chapter from the movie "Behind Enemy Lines", like when she falls into the mountains of corpses when she's running away. Bwhahahaa... This is my first fan-fic, so be nice. =P you may either faint and/or gag at the tremendous amount of words you have to read. LoL, heh. Let's get this big, bad momma raring to go! ^_^!
~ PacRat
"I don't think you trust in
my self-righteous suicide.
I cry;
When angels deserve to die."
~ Chop Suey! System of a Down
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'D o n 't L o o k B a c k. . .'
Blinded by absolute panic and manically fleeing for the sake of her being across the desolate badlands, a silhouette rocketed forth as speedy as her scrawny legs could tolerate. Cinders of charred flesh floated like burning snowflakes from the ominous black of the heavens. Every breath stung her chest, wheezing in the air tainted with the reeking odor of casualty and smoke. Flames licked and billowed at her as if mocking her, telling her there is no escape; that death was impending. She disregarded their offers with a defiant glare and she barreled more rapidly. Her untamed emerald eyes flashed above her shoulder as a glance at her pursuers tenaciously jogging near her. They were Minjoes, every one toting a mortal Uzi tightly in their armored paws. The villains were henchmen of the warlord Gruntilda ScytheGore; Kazooie used to snicker at how such a gruesome name was changed from one such as 'Winkybunion'. Her rule starved and destroyed nearly the entire island into nothing but desert wastelands and cities ransacked and set ablaze, left to crumble under her wrath. And now, innocent little Kazooie was about to pay the price for breaking one of them. The penalty for crime was ultimate execution either by guns or gas chambers.
Her world had gone to Hell and it isn't coming back very soon.
Long beak clenched on the verge of breaking, pure courage fueled her body to propel forwards and into the charred ruins of a village set fire. She vigorously shook away bothersome residue from her eyelids and fiery plumage. Gray specks of dust blemished the brilliant crimson and onto her golden wingfingers. Beneath her black and steel-toed combat boots, awkward crackling sounds erupted with each footstep along with the stench of rotting. The breegull's eyes snapped wide with horrible realization. Smoldering carcasses of Jinjoes and other animals lay strewn in her path, embers exploding from the numerous bones that lay broken wide open from her treading feet. Kazooie gazed back into the empty sockets, the mouths gawked open and twisted in an eternal scream of agony. She held back the vomit and clumsily trampled through the blood-spattered sight. Her green, oversized army trench coat flapped like a flag against the hellish inferno. She had passed the town's ending point and a marsh began to become clear in the horizon. Then, Kazooie felt her stomach twinge as she plunged off a vertical drop and into the sludge of the swamp. She hacked and flopped in the gooey mess, wiping grime from her sight. A humid, familiar stink tightened her throat. Her jade orbs bulged at the gruesome view ahead of her. Hills upon hills of decaying corpses reeked and writhed with fly larvae. Kazooie reeled over and puked in the quagmire water. Each being now resembled burnt wood or sliced meat, internal organs leaking from ripped bellies and chests. Her heart drummed upon hearing voices from on the bluff she fell off of. Kazooie's brain clicked and, despite the fact dead things rotted away in it, she lay completely still, prone with her beak deep in the mud. The dirt that stained her coat and feathers concealed her form and made her look dead.
"The chicken fell in here," acknowledged a masculine, cool voice from above. "Shoot anything you see that moves. Leave it here to rot like the rest if you do."
Kazooie stiffened and held her breath. There were random shouts and raucous laughter as they fired bullets at chosen bodies. Below the surface, the breegull cringed at the noise alike to that of squishing rotten fruit reverberated through the vacant marshland air. The heat of passing shrapnel grazed her neck by meager millimeters, making her feathers bristle. A rather dopey voice slurred out his opinion.
"Duuuuhmmmm...uhh...Mebbe the punk wen' in an' swam aways?"
"No, too dangerous. He must have run along the shore over there. Let's go, troops." the smooth voice responded. The breegull raised an unseen brow on the gender mistake. The clicking footfalls of the group brought respite to Kazooie. She snapped her head back and swallowed a mouthful of good ol' oxygen, face dribbling with muck. Gnats nipped at her skin and flies pestered her miserable form. Kazooie trudged against the weight of the mud adjacent to her legs, arms stuck out to gain further balance. She rubbed her metal studs on the ridges of her eyes until they were free of dirt. Dragging her sorry bulk onto the shoreline of the slough, she got up to her feet and stumbled into the barren desert land. Tears sprouted and leaked from her naturally cold green stare. She crumpled onto her knees, her baggy jeans sodden and uncomfortable. A wingpaw punched the earth and was later followed by a scream of rage.
Why couldn't she do something? She felt so hopeless in opposition to the witch's evil laws. There was no food, no water, nothing. Nothing but the cracking earth that too suffered. This used to be such a gorgeous place, with lush green mountains and happy inhabitants. It was all gone. Killed. Burned. Tortured. Anything that shed blood. She tossed a rock into the endless horizon and listened to the dry clunk it made on contact with the dirt. Everything she loved was gone. Kazooie huddled into a ball on the ground and began to weep.
A paw lightly splayed on her shoulder. Kazooie shuddered, eyes hesitating to look at the owner. Combat boots, littered with faded stickers and drawings, were the first thing she saw of the stranger. The tops were overlaid with stitched, ratty, saggy cargo jeans. An intimidating black trench coat swathed its heels and brushed the lifeless ground with the desert breeze flapping at its edges. A voice, so silky and composed that all anguish floated away from her heart, gently greeted her.
"Hey...What's wrong, kid?"
It was a bear, the first living thing Kazooie had seen that didn't seem hostile. His snout lifted with a reassuring smirk and opened with a soft chuckle. Two pools of crystal blue sparkled and shifted to variations of profound azure to flashing sapphire upon the force of the fire's glare. His pelt was a shiny brown and surprisingly very clean. Aviator goggles had been fastened around his forehead and just under the extra fur that characteristically grew there. On his back, a rucksack bristling with guns and daggers seemed to give off a fair warning. One item caught her attention: a large banjo was tied horizontally to the face of his pack. Kazooie him a blank look though she was calculating which side he was on. This bear was extremely muscular with biceps and a sinewy chest covered by a loose-fitting white shirt; he looked like he knew how to survive. But his eyes...so mild and tender. Like a window to his very soul. His immense, scarred paw dwarfed her little fingers. The bear hoisted her up to her senses, the smug grin still radiated on his face. Kazooie hastily rubbed the moisture from her eyelids.
"First living thing I've seen all month except the guards shootin' at me.", he laughed. "Name's Banjo. I was lookin' for a place to rest, but..." He recognized the burning town behind her. "But I think I'm a little too late to stay here."
"Kazooie. Mine's Kazooie. I was running away from the guards, too."
"Kazooie? And I thought my name was weird."
"Shut up, Banjo."
Banjo turned his back on the bird as if hurt. "It's best it you join me. You're gonna die out here in the Badlands. If the troopers don't get you, the drought will."
Kazooie faltered. Should she trust such a fearsome creature? Judging by his exterior, he seemed to have a lot of experience with existing out here. Maybe she'll actually eat something other than leaves and bugs for once. The breegull loped after her newfound friend, flailing her arms and calling out for him to slow down. Shadows against the black overcast of the feared hours of darkness, they stood abreast from each other.
The journey begins now. Two unlikely, miserable creatures create a bond with one another. A vow to keep the other's ass covered. Will you follow them? Come on, let's go.
Don't look at the past,
It'll catch you
Don't look to the future,
It has already gone.
Keep Smiling.
You just gotta keep walking
Down that lonely desert path
And don't look back.
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The end of the first chapter! Pretty long, eh? O_o; I want Banjo to be a badass. I hope you enjoyed it! This is in the FUTURE. Gruntilda has taken over Isle o' Hags and turned it into a living hell. Well...I hope the next chapter will be up soon. It'll be funny and slightly less serious. Thank you for reading it! ^_~ I hope it wasn't too long for you
- P a c R a t