Banjo-Kazooie: Our Place in Time

Chapter 1: Phantasm

If there was any time where Kazooie really didn't want to hear a clap of lighting, it was tonight.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have wanted to hear it period. As a bird, she had a genuine distaste for rain, at least when it came to the subject of flying. Unless she was forced to undergo such circumstances or actually wanted to bask in rain aside from the occasional shower (both the forced case and the desired case usually involving Banjo to some degree or another), Kazooie and this natural phenomenon never really saw eye to eye.

Despite this relationship being long established, it was safe to say that tonight was going to be an exception.

More than what the bird was willing to admit to, she was exhausted, and couldn't help but express her annoyance as her eyes slowly opened to the sound of thunder ringing through the midnight sky. Well, perhaps it would make more sense to specify the night being morning: after all, it was the clock that said 1:35 AM. Nonetheless, doubts started to arise in her mind about sleep ever returning to her again but she might have to thank the rain later, as she had a legit reason to be awake. See, this had been the third time she had been aroused from sleep from something, especially by something that usually wouldn't bother her. She couldn't put her feathered-finger on it, and she didn't have any clue until she gazed over to the only bed in the house.

From where she slept inside of her best friend's book bag (which was still dangling off of a hook), she was allowed to look around the room with little effort from herself. Even without the helpful distance between herself and the ground, there was one detail that made her get out of her definition of a bed and give the real bed a closer look: the fact that a certain bear wasn't snoring. In fact, he wasn't there period and given how ruffled the blue blanket was in a corner near the pillows, she figured that he didn't care right now that his bed was messy.

Who would? It was late... or early?

Reason let Kazooie to believe that it didn't matter, this was Banjo - under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have left his bed even like that - too much of a clean freak. However, if she were to assume everything under normal contingency, then that would mean that she didn't really know Banjo that well, and that was a load of crap. After all, this was Kazooie - the breegull that had known him practically her whole life.

Due to the gross darkness of the night, it made things hard to see except the fireplace that was bright with fresh fire. If it had not been for an individual poking at the the wood that was being consumed with the iron poker, then she would have wondered to herself how it was possible for it to even be lit at this hour. Alas, despite how obvious the answer was now, Kazooie knew that the one messing around with the fire was none other than Banjo himself.

The bear had probably felt her presence (or at least heard her wings that helped her land next to him) but he didn't move nonetheless. This was due to the fact that this same scenario happened many scores of times.

You see, as silly as it sounds in words alone, Banjo had been suffering from something they could only described as nightmares. True, it only happened at night, but what started as said nightmares started to become something that haunted the honey bear even when his eyes were open. If Banjo were to open up about the things he had seen, one would be amazed that such a kind-hearted bear was capable of conjuring up such things behind his eyelids. However, not only did the unspeakable was something not by his own doing (at least according to Mumbo Jumbo) but would have been things he had wished would have ever entered his mind to begin with. The only one he told everything to was none other than the bird next to him. It was how by the exhaustion in his eyes that Kazooie knew he had one of those illusions just a few hours ago, and given how fixated he was on the fireplace, there was a sincere doubt that he was going to go to bed any time soon.

So if he only saw these things in his sleep, how was it not a nightmare? Because some time between the beginning and when things started to get out of hand, Banjo would experience physical injuries and not always of a sort that would result from severe impact due to the distance between oneself and the floor. Yes, some of the injuries in question would be bruises from time to time but the one that got to Kazooie the most was the one that made a scar on Banjo's chest. True, it had been the accumulation of scratches within the same perimeter but anyone who looked intently at Banjo like she did would be able to see it. If anyone had looked for only a brief glance or so, it would be easier to miss on the account of Banjo's thick fur.

Tonight, however, his fur wasn't as fluffy as it would have been. Given how parts of his fur stuck to his face, she assumed that he had been in cold sweat but didn't bother to check himself over while looking into the fire. His eyes were obviously contemplating whatever he was dreaming about and he probably didn't want to talk about it. Given what she was able to gather from these aspects alone, Kazooie got all she needed to know without verbally asking Banjo if he was alright, much less what had haunted him before.

Even if she didn't observe him, of course it would have been stupid to ask if he was alright - it was just too obvious.

Extending her wing, she used it to cover Banjo's shoulders, bringing him closer to her smaller form. The only thing they needed to break the silence was the cracking that came from the fireplace.

If it had not been made clear beforehand, Kazooie really didn't like what was going on with her best friend. In fact, she would easily go as far as saying she hated it. Why not? How else was she supposed to react to the sudden attack on Banjo's mind that she knew nothing about when it came to the denomination of solving it? To make it worse, she not only knew zilch on its origin, but even less on a any potential cure. Given that all of this was in the territory of magic, it only narrowed things down to the expertise of Mumbo Jumbo and his wife Humba Wumba. However, they too knew little of what was going on with the honey bear, and had been away for the longest time trying to find a cure, or perhaps a reversal spell to this hex, if it so happened to be one.

Mumbo Jumbo mentioned someone who might be more skilled in this department, but she wasn't paying attention to his words at the time.

Banjo's stomach turned as the events from a few hours ago played again in his mind. Whatever kind of sick joke someone was playing, it did more than just hurt him, it broke him. His body cried for sleep, but on the other side of things, his mind pleaded before all that was holy to not let his eyes close, least he wouldn't be able to come back after seeing all that was unbearable. It was under such great strains that gave entry to the whispers of running himself through. However, due to the absence of his sister, his best friend's stubbornness like fire was the only thing that was keeping him here.

Kazooie wouldn't have been surprised one bit of there was someone out there was was jealous of the golden heart inside of her best friend and wanted to tear it out. Then again, perhaps it wouldn't be a surprise to anyone if that happened to be the case. Perhaps it would take a great deal of time to forgive said person, but right now it seemed impossible. Banjo was not the only one thinking about the past as a lot of what Banjo had said started to come back to the front of her mind.

"I... I lost you, Kazooie... you and all of our friends... your blood everywhere... even the lake was covered in it..."

"It happened again... w-wait... where did I get this!?"

"I can't take any more of this, Kazooie!"

Some time after that, Banjo started to become more and more silent. As of today, it's been a week since he said anything. As for what he would say, it had already been said. That was right around the time Mumbo Jumbo left with his wife to find someone he claimed would have a better understanding of dreams. The problem is that he wasn't back yet.

As Kazooie allowed herself to wonder what in blazes was taking them so long, her eyes widened at what brought about the end of the silence: the gentle, but painfully broken voice of Banjo.

"Kaz..."

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being here."

"What are you talking about? Of course I would be here for you, Banjo."

"Still... I really appreciate this... it would stink if-"

"-Now wait a Pete-picking minute - don't you dare start talking like that. Mumbo's out there trying to find whoever can help you. I can't imagine the horrors that's been going on in your head, but don't doubt for a second that they have given up."

By now, Kazooie's wing had left Banjo's shoulders and was now eye to eye with her best friend. Once that revelation sunk in, she had to increase in the distance between them, a light blush starting to form on her face on the account of her thoughtlessness. Exactly why it compelled Banjo to chuckle even in the slightest, Kazooie had only a slight idea about. Nonetheless, she was glad he was even capable of not concealing his mirth. It made her happy and relieved that he was even smiling, so that was a good start. However, the only other thing she didn't realize they were doing was decreasing the distance once more.

For the record, it was probably safe to say that Banjo wasn't exactly aware of it either, at least until they heard (like the crash of symbols) a sudden, powerful knock at the door.

As they broke out of their stupor, both gazed at the door, to see if they had might have imagined that, or if it was actually the thunder that had crashed through the skies. When another knock shattered the silence beyond what the rain was capable of, they realized that they did, in fact, not conjure that up. Giving each other another look of horror, they got up in unison to answer the door. Before either of them could ask who it was, lightning shot through the skies the very second two familiar individuals crashed through their door, now soaking wet from head to foot.

"Hey!" cried the breegull.

"Mumbo! Humba!" the bear exclaimed, in total shock that they came at such a time.

While Mumbo had been simple on things outside of magic, as his lifestyle suggested, there was one thing he had grown out of and that was the lack of manners.

However, what shocked them the most as not the fact that they were drenched in water, but because there was someone else taking most of the rain's beating due to being on Humba Wumba's back. Red lines had long since stained her outfit, so Banjo guessed the unconscious women had been bleeding, if that had even stopped.

After his fists found it in themselves to loosen, the honey bear replaced the fear that had been on his face with the bravery that saved his sister long ago. Putting aside the horrors of the night, he ordered Humba and Mumbo to bring the said woman to the bedroom, where he himself grabbed as many towels as he could. Kazooie helped in the affair, but made sure Mumbo and Humba had at least one towel to dry themselves off with.

Perhaps if they had not had similar situations in the past, there wouldn't be enough towels predisposed for today. Nonetheless, once the bed had been covered with towels, Humba Wumba did her part by not only putting the unknown woman in bed, but used a spare towel Banjo handed to her to do what needed to be done.

A pale Banjo did his best to give Humba what little privacy he could offer by helping Mumbo with the water that had accumulated on him. In a way, it didn't help his turning stomach as he noticed that the short shaman had also not been spared of injuries.

"What happened?" Banjo asked.

"Tried to inquire about your nightmares from Monday," Mumbo replied, "Gruntilda captured shaman who could help. Only Monday got away."

"Is that the chick you dragged in?" Kazooie asked.

"Yes, this is Monday," Humba said, carefully finishing the work of trying to keep Monday from bleeding to death, covering her shivering body with the blue blanket, "Witch not only returned, but returned with great power."

"When? And how?"

"Wife and I don't know: just bad."

Banjo had a lot on his plate, at least when it came to the fields of his mind. This Monday, now laying in his bed (and who would be bleeding to death if it had not been for some unnamed escape), was the hope from his nightmares Mumbo had been speaking of earlier, yet failed to give a name to.

However, despite the lack of name until now, everything else he said about her was true. If it had not been for the fact that she was truly beautiful, perhaps what frightened him would be scared of her. When one beheld Monday, her hair (now scattered across the bed) was the deepest twilight with some of the blue visible to the naked eye when it was under light. If her lips had not been trembling and void of color, the skin of death Monday now wore would have been assumed to be normal. Given that her eyes were closed the entire time, Banjo could only count on Mumbo's word right now about them being a "sparkling cosmos".

In the middle of all this observing, Humba had long since hung the sleeveless robe that belonged to Monday by the fire to dry.

Even though she barely escaped with her life, Banjo could admit only to himself that he was just glad she was here. However, other questions began to arise and decided to make those thoughts verbal.

"Did you teleport here?"

"Mumbo have no power, neither does wife: Monday used last of strength to save us."

"Do you think Gruntilda could track you guys?"

"Mumbo doubt it: Monday used too much power in attempt to get rid of witch."

"Husband is right. She's probably trying to recuperate from Monday's blast."

"But Gruntilda knows you know us... Once Monday wakes up, you'll have to flee. I don't know where, but it's not safe to be here."

"What does bear recommend we do in the meantime?"

Banjo looked down at the ground in defeat.

"I don't know guys... I really don't know."

Artist Comments:

An old story comes to life... full of freaking angst...

It's going to get a bit more dramatic before it gets better plot-wise.

I don't have any official drawings yet about the Original Characters in this: only scraps and even then I'm not happy with them.

I'll just update this thing as I come up with ideas.

Ideas & critiques are appreciated.

God bless you all.