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lifeofalegacy · 24 days ago

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Life of a Legacy Chapter 4

“See? I’m fine.” Grian huffed as he met back up with Scar and Mumbo in the ER’s lobby.

Rolling his eyes, “Your wing is almost completely wrapped in gauze,” Mumbo pointed out. “And if I’m not mistaken, there’s some pretty heavy bandages peeking out from under your sweater.”

Ok. So maybe Grian was oversimplifying a little bit. “Well, I don’t have a concussion.” That’s not to say the nurse who was treating him hadn’t taken one look and gone to put on a layer of gloves to treat all his wounds. Or how she had desperately tried to make sure Grian was ok as she had to practically pour antiseptic onto his wing. That hadn’t been fun.

“You said you weren’t anywhere near the fire when it happened? How fast was this bike going?”

Scar crossed his arms. “Well, if that’s where the bar is then I’m thoroughly disappointed. Grian, you should have told someone earlier! Hell, you should have been here last night to get all of this treated. Most people from the fire only had minor injuries! You’re one of the worst cases I’ve seen, and you weren’t even there!” Another failure on Scar’s part, just add it to the list. He wasn’t able to save everyone alone, he wasn’t even able to save his friend. Some hero he was.

“I was told I will be fine.” Besides when they had to pop his arm back into its socket, and the nurse had nearly demanded he get an x-ray to see if anything was broken. Listen, he loved his friends, but they could truly be overbearing at times. Especially during times when all Grian wanted to do was curl up in his bed and sleep for days. “A few days' rest, no heavy lifting, maybe a few weeks for new feathers, but I will be ok. No cracked ribs, no head injuries, just some nasty scrapes and bruises.”

“If you say so mate.” Mumbo matched Scar’s frustration. “Still, please tell someone next time? We’re here for you.”

Last night had been a wreck, with Jimmy’s sobs still echoing in his head. He was older, more responsible. Grian didn’t have time to tell people. And ironically, he couldn’t tell them now.

“Ok...”

“Grian.” Mumbo placed his hand on the other’s shoulder, the one wrapped in less bandages. “Promise me.” His gaze stared straight through Grian’s soul, as if he were draining it.

“Jeez! Fine, I promise.” He shook off his friend, and tried to ignore the creeping guilt. Forcing his mind off of it, Grian began to look around the lobby. “Where’s Jimmy?”

His brother had been surprisingly cooperative when they told him Vex had sent a car to drive them to the hospital. Apparently Gem had rattled some sense into his brain during their phone call, and Jimmy revealed he’s avoided the EMTs the day before. He knew that girl was smart.

When Jimmy had asked about why Grian needed to go to the ER, the elder had been… cagey at first. Until Scar shot him a look that rattled the windows in his brain and he spewed out his story about being hit by the bike. In retrospect, it was a pretty good story. Believable, but not too common that any of them would know what the injuries looked like off the top of their heads.

However, Grian had been under the assumption that Jimmy had been cleared by the paramedics on scene, so finding out his brother could also be hurt shot him through the heart. On the other hand, Jimmy finding out his brother was suffering and had to sleep on the floor made the other feel like absolute trash. Mumbo had just muttered something about apples not falling far, but guided them to the car just the same.

“I think he’s fine. Got out wayyy before you did.” Mumbo said. “He went across the way to the store to pick up some lunch. Scar offered to go with him, but he said he needed some time alone.”

“You being hurt really messed with him.” Scar muttered guiltily.

Shaking his head, Grian led the two out of the ER on a quest to go track down his brother. There were like, four stores Jimmy could have gone into.

With a sigh, Grian pulled out his phone and shook his head. “Why is it always hospitals that have no service?” He turned to his friends. “Any clue which one he went in?”

Both Scar and Mumbo cringed and shook their heads. “No clue mate. He didn’t seem in the mood for small chat when he got out.”

“I don’t think The Market Place sells food?” Scar guessed. “It’s more like an… herbal medicine store?”

Grian looked between the remaining options, “Let’s start at Hen’s Grocers.”

The store was chilly compared to the bright sunny day outside, and Grian took a look around, but how was he really to know? Jimmy ran off often, and had been for years. The brothers were much the same, preferring to avoid the problems rather than outright face them. So if Jimmy was running, then there was a problem.

“Any ideas on how to find him?” Mambo asked. “Because–”

“Energy drink section.” Grian blurted out loud enough that even he startled. Scar looked over at him in bewilderment. “He, uh, goes there a lot…” No he didn’t? Why would he know that? Why would he say that?

“You good there Grian?” Scar asked, raising an eyebrow.

He felt fine. “Yes…”

Before the group could make their way to wherever Jimmy might be, Jimmy emerged from the aisle, carrying an energy drink and a boxed sandwich. He was worrying his lip, and glancing around every few seconds as if checking for someone. That was not good.

“Jimmy!’ Grian called out, and he saw his brother visibly relax at the sound of his voice.

After quickly running his items through check-out, Jimmy hurried over to them, meeting his brother with a tense smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, why’d you run off like that? I thought you’d wait in the lobby, is everything ok?” Now he was looking around for whatever had Jimmy paranoid, his feathers fluffing against his will. Mumbo noticed immediately, coming around Jimmy’s other side to protect him. He glanced around.

Jimmy’s eyes were red, and his cheeks swollen from rubbing at them. He shook his head and leaned closer to Grian. “The nurse I saw, he, figured out about…” His wings twitched. “So, it’s just paranoia.”

Placing his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, the other muttered words of comfort. “You’re going to be fine, it’s just one person, and he can’t say anything.”

Behind Jimmy, Mumbo’s eyes widened, but he stayed silent, instead taking a step closer to the younger avian.

“I just want to go home, Grian.”

“Let’s go then.”

---

Scar had been at this for hours, ignoring the growing amount of emails his computer pinged with every minute. But at this point, how could he not?

It was fascinating, the way she moved. He suspected the cameras weren’t truly doing her any justice. The air seemingly under her control, and not the other way around. Xelqua’s movements were light, gentle, yet rumbled with the power of a thousand suns when she turned it on her enemies. She was everything a hero had needed to be, wrapped up in one tiny powerful flutter.

Even though Cub had encouraged Scar to look into his predecessor a long time ago, the newer hero had never truly felt it necessary. The way the two fought were like night and day, and on top of that, Scar found himself firmly planted on the ground. Unlike Xelqua, he didn’t truly rely on his powers for combat. Sure, the whole walking, running, and jumping bit was a nice perk he got to use for a few hours at a time before his body felt like it was shutting down, but it wasn’t exactly the same. But boy was he regretting not knowing about her now.

Even if the two were nothing alike, she was fascinating. Everything about her had an other-worldly quality, from the way she fought to the weapon she used. It shone like its own light source, and amplified her voice to the point she herself became the weapon. Most of the footage that remained of her had faded into obscurity over the years she was missing, but now that she had miraculously returned from the dead, people were posting her all over the internet. Her takedown of the Zombie King, saving the people in Flight 346 from total annihilation, volunteering at the lost kid’s home for the holidays, it was all resurfacing. Everyone was buzzing about Xelqua. He’s seen her up close, and it was incredible.

Scar leaned back in his chair, and looked out the glass wall of his office into Vex Co. Everyone out there needed a protector. Xelqua seemed to agree.

Were they really that different? Scar would love a chance to know.

Yet, in the days since the Town Hall incident, no one had seen hide nor hair of her. Once again, it was as if she had vanished into thin air. Scar had been doing his best, not only to cover everything, stopping muggings and busting convenience store robberies, but also to keep an eye out for her.

To say he wasn’t worried when she showed up to the scene of the fire with already scratched up legs would be a blatant lie. And when she fell, not jumped, but fell from that balcony with Grian’s brother, Scar’s heart had caught in his throat. Sure, he was no expert in avian flight, but she shouldn’t have hit the ground that hard. The way she skidded, purposefully landing under Jimmy so he wouldn’t touch the pavement was heroic, but largely stupid.

Up close, Xelqua wasn’t anything like she was in the videos, and Scar wanted to know why.

When the office was closing up, nearly everyone gone, a few lamps on here and there, Scar finally built up enough courage to talk to Cub about his thoughts.

“Maybe she was just out of practice,” He tried, not really paying attention to his friend’s swirling doubts and conspiracies, instead scrolling through something on his phone. “Or she hit her head when some of the rubble fell. It’s not like we could see into the building.”

“I know, I’ve thought about all of that.” Scar replied tightly as the elevator let them out onto the ground floor. As the pair stepped into the cold night air, Scar already felt himself searching around for Xelqua. “But I saw her up close. I watched the way she spiraled, and how she took off. It was nothing like in the videos.”

“So you’re finally taking my advice then? Learning how to be a proper hero?” Cub smirked, finally looking over at the other. When that didn’t get the lighthearted response he was expecting from the other, a frown slipped onto his face, and he shoved his phone into his pocket. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I feel like you’re not serious enough.” Shaking his head, he refused to look over at his mentor. “Everyone thought she died Cub. I read all the theories, watched the videos about her last battle. But suddenly, out of nowhere, and exactly when we needed her, she reappeared? It’s strange.”

Cub had to choose his next words carefully, he knew that. When Scar got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to sway him, no matter the cost. He placed a hand on the other’s arm, stopping them. “It’s very strange. I’m not arguing with you about any of this, but I’m also not entirely sure what you’re getting at.”

Scar wasn’t either. He’d been thinking about Xelqua all day, thousands of questions circling his mind, but they hadn’t condensed into anything really important. Where was she? Probably living her life in the city away from the spotlight. How did her microphone work? Magic, like anything else in this world.

“There hasn’t been a single avian with flight in this city within the past 25 years. Did you know that?” He’d learned that during his deep drive spiral after lunch today.

Cub and Scar had worked together for years. Scar had practically been hand picked from the group of interns he worked with during his grad school days. The older had helped him along his path to greatness, even recognizing the struggles Scar went through on a daily basis. Many a night had been spent going over grueling paperwork and admitting secrets before Cub had truly decided Scar was the one he wanted in charge. Further, those secrets had culminated in the creation of Scar’s super alter ego, his boss encouraging the other even during the first few rough patrols. Without Cub, Scar would be neither the CEO of Vex Co, or Hot Guy. Put simply, they knew each other very well.

“I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Cub said coldly. “Even if I’m not your “guy in the chair” for a night, I do still get all the notifications from your suit.”

“In all honesty, I thought I turned that off.”

“Every night Scar. For hours you are out there. When you started this, you promised me that you would never let it get this bad. That you could balance this!” Rage filled the usually stoic man’s voice.

“I’m– I’m fine.”

“Fine? You think I haven’t seen the way you wince when no one’s watching, or how for the first time in years you’ve been exclusively using your powered wheels feature on your chair? I know, I know your curiosity is something I cannot truly stop, but you need to cut back. Your body cannot take the strain you are putting it under, and your magic is going to give out one of these days.” Taking a few steps from his friend, Cub planted his face into his hands. “Please Scar. I love that you want to help people, and right now Xelqua is at the top of your list, but for her sake, and the sake of everyone else, take a step back. If she wants to be found, she’ll be found.”

He was right. Scar knew Cub was right, but that didn’t mean he liked to admit it. Not only had he been pushing his body and powers to the extreme these few night, the metal nanites swirling around in his bone marrow and blood stream keen on following any command he gave them, but he really was pushing the amount of rest he needed before any document he signed could be dismissed under the clause of insanity. Mumbo had been trying his best, offering Scar more coffee than a regular-sized person could have, and Grian had tried to take over some of the meetings once he returned to office. Their pity was something Scar hated, but he truly cherished their loyalty.

And they would understand him if they knew.

“Tomorrow night, I’ll rest.” He said, staring Cub down. “But please Cub, one more night. I know I’ve got enough left in me for one last search. If I can’t find her tonight, then I’ll stop looking.”

The other hated not getting exactly what he wanted, but in terms of how Scar compromised, this was a generous offer. So, Cub had no other choice. “Fine. But I’m on mic, and you have to listen to me if I deem something too dangerous for you to do in this state.”

“Deal.”

---

Grian was never particularly good at “taking it easy.” He just wasn’t wired for it, always needing a project to work on, or someone to talk to so his thoughts wouldn’t get too loud. So, to be cooped up (ha) in his apartment, forbidden from anything kind of strenuous action was truly nightmarish. He’d already reorganized his socks three times, and his ties twice, brushed poor Maui more than appreciated, pruned his bonsai tree to the point where he was worried he may have killed it, and scrubbed his kitchen so many times with so many different chemicals he was sure he made mustard gas in there somewhere. If he asked Mumbo or Scar to come over, he knew they’d come running. Even Impulse, or Joel, or even Bdubs would all be there for him, but he couldn’t. That would be admitting weakness.

These past few days were tortuous. His friends were all clingy, which he loved at first, because that meant they were safe with him. But that quickly turned suffocating. Except Jimmy. He could never be suffocated by his little brother.

Jimmy had finally returned back to his apartment the day before, complaining about needing to do his own laundry in his own washer, which, fair enough. He had also had plans for tonight that Grian knew he didn’t want to bother his big brother with, so he retreated.

That left Grian alone. With his thoughts. Great.

Shaking his head, Grian tried to focus back in on whatever stupid gameshow cable had on tonight, and found a sheep staring back at him. Wow. The Game Network was really scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas now, weren’t they? He really didn’t like the way that sheep was looking at him.

He let out a long suffering groan. What else was there to do? Any more cleaning and his skin would fall off, any more organizing and his clothes might disintegrate, and if he just sat there then he would explode.

“Groceries!” Grain exclaimed to no one, startling poor Maui off the couch. “...Sorry.”

He could just go buy his groceries, and maybe even pick up some new bandages for his wings. The ones from the hospital were scratchy and started to pick at Grian’s new feather growth.

The sky was a brilliant orange by the time Grian made his way outside, and he stopped to marvel at it for a second. Clouds crawled by at a snail’s pace, and he could see the way the last of the sun rays caught the little water droplets. It seemed quiet, pleasant.

He could be up there.

Shaking himself, he continued on his way to the store, trying to ignore the buzzing feeling in the back of his head that had settled after the fire and not faded since.

The doctors hadn’t found anything wrong.

Street lights clicked on as he walked, and highschoolers around him began their daily walks home from the library or whatever small coffee shops they chose to study at. He remembered picking Jimmy up many times from the library when he had stayed too late. His little brother had always been afraid of the dark.

But that darkness paid him no mind as mindless chatter filtered through Grian’s ears, and he picked up a piece of gossip or two that would have made him gasp if he knew the person. Walks like this usually helped him clear his mind after a busy day of putting out Scar’s fires, or listening to another one of Mumbo’s four hour lectures on the benefits of potato based proteins, whatever that meant. Besides, it wasn’t like he would be completely alone out here, the city had a hero to protect it.

Tilly’s, the local grocery store, was always a bit more expensive than Grian preferred on a daily basis, but it was close, and he did like their local selection of produce and sweets. Even Netty had a small section for her cookies in the corner of the bakery section, specially restocked every morning.

It was a treat to fully shop there, one that Grian decided he had earned after that week. Besides, if he finished his shopping for the week here, then he could spend the next day asleep, which sounded quite pleasant.

He’d been at it for a few minutes, now stuck on picking which kind of apple he wanted to bring home when a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“Hey man! Funny seeing you here.” The accent itself was enough to tell Grian exactly who was talking, and the pure swagger the man spoke with only confirmed it.

“Hi Ren.” Grian turned cautiously, apples still in hand. “How are you doing?”

He was wearing his teal-tinted glasses again, but had switched out the formal suit for a red hoodie and a pair of sweats. Interestingly, he also wore a beanie that pinned his ears down, leaving no trace of who Grian knew the man was.

“Fine! Busy though. Doc and I have been working our butts off alongside legal to get our end of the deal finalized.” Pulling out a list that was much too long, Ren grinned up at the other, canines on display. “I’m actually really glad you all accepted it, having that old building was just making me sad. We used to use it for research, but after the extension to headquarters, it’s just been sitting empty. Part of me was worried we’d sell to a developer that would turn it into… apartments.” His eyes glazed over in pure terror for a second, and Grian found himself letting out a laugh against his will.

“We don’t need any more of those now, do we? Roads can barely support traffic as it is.” Grian bagged up his apples. He waffled for a second, sighing and turning towards the other man, wings drooping. “By the way, I’m sorry for any of the weird vibes you were getting from me during the meeting. I really am happy that we are developing Mumbo’s plans after years of working on them, I just wish Scar would have brought me into the loop earlier. I am totally cool with it now though.”

“Glad to hear it. Not like I helped your fears or anything, I was a bit too intense, I will admit. Just got excited to see another hybrid so high up.” That crooked smile was contagious, and even if Grian was still weary of the man, he was warming up quick. “Speaking of, are you ok?” Ren cringed, and gestured behind Grian, “Sorry if it’s personal, just, your wings weren’t that beat up last time I saw you.”

Ah. Of course. Grian had hoped no one would mention his injuries, maybe just making their own fatal assumptions, but he was never that lucky.

“A bike…” Might as well stick with his story, “took a corner too fast, and I was around it. Skid me nearly 3 meters down the pavement.”

Ren sucked in a pitying breath. “Beezus man! That’s awful.”

“No, no. I should have been paying more attention, but the fire was happening, and my brother worked at Town Hall, so I just was completely out of it.” Maybe some details should be kept under wraps, but if they were working with Ren, then Scar or Mumbo might accidentally let something slip, and he didn’t want to make anything awkward.

Ren’s face morphed into horror. “Is he ok?”

“He’s fine, in fact, I think everyone in Town Hall escaped with minimal injuries for what it was.” Grian hadn’t actually said it out loud, nor let himself feel the pride he should after realizing just what he did. Everyone was ok in the end. He let himself smile, just a little. “The nurse actually said I was one of the worst cases they got relating to accidents from the fire.”

Ren let out a whistle. “Well, that is impressive. Xelqua and Hot Guy really did an amazing job, and I’m glad your brother’s doing well.”

“Me too.” Looking down at Ren’s cart, he let out a surprise laugh. Ren raised an eyebrow at him. “Woah, are you preparing for a party or something? That’s a lot of… meat.” He trailed off as he thought about what he was saying for more than a second.

With a bitter grin that showed off all his sharp, sharp teeth, Ren spoke. “Nah, the full moon’s coming up, you know what that means.” He scratched at his ears from over his beanie.

“Sorry, dude.” Really, he should have realized it sooner. “Curse features suck.”

“You’re telling me. It’s actually why I’m shopping up here. Most of the stores in South Herotopia are already banning Canids from shopping there for the week, even though the full moon is in two days. I’ve got quite a few sick and old neighbors that can’t make the trip up here themselves, so I volunteered. Got to make sure they’ll have food, you dig?”

A pit formed in Grian’s stomach. He’d heard about Dog Hybrids before, but was never close enough with one to have a conversation like this. Ren… didn’t seem like some of the more horrid stories he’d heard, about how Canids turned into flesh-seaking beasts when the moon rose full. But then again, no one was truly themselves after the Reckoning, were they?

“Stores still do that?” Grian asked quietly. “After all these years?”

Ren scoffed. “Not just to us, there’s more than a few who are trying to ban cat and monster hybrids as well. It’s insane.”

“It really is.” Grian had it rough, he really did. Living with two broken wings attached to him, lugging them around day in and out. But in the grand scheme of things, he was lucky. Lucky in a way he preferred not to think about when the news pushed another piece on hybrid attacks. It was never an avian’s whose mugshot they showed.

“Ah, sorry to bring the mood down, and interrupt your shopping.” Ren’s voice was still casual and light, but Grian could tell he was just putting it on for show.

Grian scoffed. “You didn’t ruin anything. I just hope these next few days treat you well. It’s really admirable what you’re doing for your neighbors.”

Ren paused for a moment, and a tiny, real smile graced his face. “Thanks, I think I needed to hear that.” He hummed for a second before pulling out his phone. “Listen, I know you all agreed to buy the building off of us, ‘site unseen,’ but if you want to see some of our old projects before we clear everything out, just give me a call. Can I put my number in your phone?”

“Would Doc really be ok with that?” Grian handed his phone over to the other, watching him tap at the screen. “I’ve heard he’s kinda private about the work Perimeter does.”

Ren paused his typing and bit his cheek before shrugging. He looked at Grian with an expression the other couldn’t fully place. “Doc… doesn’t need to know. He’s a great scientist and engineer and everything, but he takes our work a little too seriously sometimes. I miss being able to talk about what I’m doing, and besides, this is a lot of our old projects, we haven’t touched them in like, two years. If you want, you can invite the Big Guy and your boss too. I like meeting new hybrids.”

“Mumbo and Scar? Oh, Mumbo isn’t a hybrid–”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know, he’s just massive, but I think he’d love to see where his big development is going. He’s been waiting for years for it to get put through. And I don’t know how accessible your building is, but Scar’s a vex, so I think you two would actually get along really well.”

“...I thought Cub was a vex?”

Grian hadn’t been paying attention that much when Scar took over, so he had no clue about the selection process. He liked to think that Cub wouldn’t base leadership just off of species, but then again, what did he really know about the man? Either way, Scar was absolutely the right choice.

“They both are. Vex Co and all of that.” Grian took Ren’s phone from him and began to press in his number. His smile slipped a little as he made an important decision. “Listen, I know we don’t really know each other that well, but if you end up needing anything from the Central stores and can’t make it up here, feel free to reach out. I’m right on the red line bus, so it wouldn’t be a bother to me. It really sucks what’s happening down there.”

Ren’s beanie shifted as his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Thank dude. That’s really generous.” And there was that bright look again, the one that Grian had assumed was his default.

“Of course.” Sticking out the phone to the other, Ren took it and began to place it in the tote bag in the cart. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite make it…

And Grian was practically already moving before it fell, grabbing it tightly. Both froze.

With a low whistle, Ren took it back. “Woah! Nice reflexes! Thanks.”

“Of course.” Strange.

The two parted ways pretty quickly after that, Grian finishing up his shopping pretty easily besides the struggle of finding non-itchy bandages in the medical section. Luckily, the painkillers we had been taking were doing their job, and his dislocated arm was already feeling better after a few days of taking it easy. So, as night settled over the city, he hoisted his grocery bags up onto his shoulders, and walked home.

—

“This is not what we agreed to Scar.”

The moon had long since rose over Herotopia, and Scar sat atop one of the tallest buildings, just scanning the darkness. He was tired, and sore, and felt his magic already flickering, causing him to stumble across some of the rooftops. But he didn’t care.

“You’ve been out there for hours, already stopped 3 muggings and returned a lost kid to their parents.” Cub’s voice voice through his headset. “Come back.”

Cub wouldn’t understand. That buzzing sensation Scar felt every time he put his mind to something, that wouldn’t fade until he got it or crashed out. He’d tried to explain it to his mentor many times before, but he didn’t understand.

The two of them were close, but could never be the same.

“Just a bit longer.” He muttered.

He ignored the cutting words Cub returned to him, admonishing him for not caring. But Scar did care.

Hermitopia didn’t have a protector. Not really. The police were… there, kinda, and private security details easily ran most of corporate protection, but it wasn’t enough. No one was there for the people. Muggings ran rampant, murders even worse. It didn’t use to be like this. But it was all Scar knew. The terror, the fear, the descent of society into a world that didn’t trust each other, and the consequences that came with that.

So, instead of lamenting and weeping, Scar decided to do something about it. He wasn’t nearly as impressive as the last hero, but he was decent enough with a bow, and had the know-how to build technology that generally improved his physical characteristics.

Overall, he’d been doing really well at it. Most of the population liked him, and he’d saved a lot of lives over the past few years. Not all of them, sure, and those would forever haunt him, but those he could save returned home to their families and friends, and that was something to be proud of. Town Hall had been the first time in a long time that he felt truly powerless to save people.

The last time had been Grian’s sister.

Maybe Cub was right. It was late, and he was tired, and his mind was starting to wander to places he didn’t like to think about.

“Are you listening to me?”

Scar let out a long-suffering sigh. “What do you think?”

“Jesus…” Scar could hear the way Cub shook his head. “Scar. You told me a few hours. It’s been more than that, on top of the fact you’ve been out every night for who knows how long. Please.”

That buzzing feeling turning to crackles. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

In the distance, a flash of pink swooped between the buildings, and Scar leapt to his feet. He lifted his glasses, trying to see it again.

“I know you can’t, but this is hurting you.”

Come on, let me see you again. Be real.

“Please…” Scar muttered to himself, taking out a zipline arrow and slotting it onto his bow. He was ready, he was right.

“Scar?”

There.

A flash of pink, and Scar knew he had to act.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Cub.” With that, Scar took out his earpiece, muffled angry yells getting shoved into his pocket. He knew Cub would forgive him.

But for now, there was a bird he had to find.

—

It was late. Really late. But for some reason, no matter how hard he tossed and turned and tried to make himself comfortable, Grian couldn’t sleep. Ever since the fire, it was like there was this buzzing energy in the back of his head that he couldn’t get to go away. When Jimmy was there, he was able to focus on that enough to get at least a few hours a night, but not anymore.

He’d tried all the normal sleep aids. A nice cup of tea, warm milk, melatonin, he even put on an old dvd of ocean sounds to try and drown out his feelings. None of it worked. So, after another hour of staring blankly at the ceiling, Grian made the tough decision to kick the blankets off, and get out of bed.

No good decision will ever be made after 9pm. Grian knew that, after all, Pearl had practically pounded it into his head after she found out what he did in high school.

But no good decision was going to come from stewing in his misery at all hours of the night either. Passing by Maui’s bed at the end of his, Grian made his way out into the living room. Large windows framing a perfectly clear night sky over a dark city met his gaze, and he paused for a second to really take it all in.

It wasn’t often that Grian got to truly appreciate how beautiful the city was when everything was still. Most of the time he was forced to deal with it’s people, it’s bus delays, it’s litter and it’s prejudice. But in the silence, it was almost like he could see what it once was. How people used to get along, how arguments breaking out on the street were few and far apart. He’d never been alive for that, born less than a year after the curse took effect, but he could imagine.

In the distance, some buildings had lit their roofs pink in honor of town hall and the fire, many more now publicly raising funds to try and rebuild the monumental building. But in the dark, lit only by a mostly-full moon, Grian could pretend those lights were flying.

Subconsciously, his wings spread out, fluttering a bit in the imaginary wind. The feathers were ugly, brown and scruffy, like a swan’s might have been if it got stuck in its baby stage forever. The ugly duckling truly was a haunting story. And sure, he had managed to grow a nice looking secondary here or there, but his primaries just never came in right. Some tried to, but they bent and broke easily, leading to a lot of pain and bloodied bedsheets in the night. Now, if Grian ever saw one trying, he’d just pluck it before the disappointment turned painful again.

It wasn’t like that a few days ago.

Grian knew he couldn’t dwell on what he did, taking such a precious heirloom and using it so recklessly had almost cost him his ability to use his arm. Not to mention the growing anxiety and confusion he knew the city was feeling due to his actions. Everything he did that day was stupid, and dangerous, and he should never even touch that damned thing again–

But you flew.

“And I saved Jimmy.” Muttering to himself, gods, Grian was losing it, wasn’t he? The lack of sleep toying with his brain, pushing him towards desires he’d never even toy with in the day time.

That heirloom cost him his family, nearly cost him everything. But it was also the only thing that saved his brother.

It was nice to fly.

Moving before he could psych himself out, Grian pulled open the drawer he had haphazardly shoved the microphone in during his rush to get to Jimmy. Its crystals were still covered in ash and dust, their shine barely coming through in the moonlight.

Overall, it was something incredibly gaudy, and flashy, and everything Grian wasn’t. But it was perfect for its previous owners, people who just wanted their voices heard, who weren’t afraid to show off and do ridiculous stunts to get noticed. A woman who do anything to protect her family, and a girl who would do anything to keep her mother’s memory alive.

“I’m not actually going to do anything with it,” Grian muttered as he put on his shoes and quietly made his way up the staircase to the roof. As expected, it was completely empty, with a cool breeze blowing through the night. “It’s just nice to pretend.”

Pretend what, exactly?

That wasn’t a question Grian wanted to answer, especially not at 2am. But deep down, he knew.

He was jealous. Jimmy could fly, and Pearl was able to at least glide. They hadn’t been hit with the curse as badly as he had, their feathers looking properly developed, feeling resistance when the wind blew against them. Sure, maybe his jealousy was a bit selfish. Flying did mean that Jimmy would have to live his life in terror about anyone ever finding out, fearing that someone would overhear and snatch him off the street.

Jimmy was never truly interested in flying, but at least he had that option. Grian didn’t.

But for a few minutes, he did. His feathers had caught the wind, and he glided like it was the most natural thing in the world for him.

The damned bandages were itching again. With a groan of frustration, Grain stuck out his wings to carefully peel them off. All of the open wounds had scabbed over, and even if his back was a bit sore here and there, he was doing exponentially better than after the fire. Trying to ignore how some feathers caught in the adhesive and ripped out with a hiss, Grian forced himself to open them fully.

The breeze easily blew through them, shifting the fluff every which way, something he had no control over. Avains were supposed to guide the wind with their feathers, bending it to their will to cut through the air. That bitterness bubbled up again.

In his hand, the microphone glowed lightly, scattering its pink across Grian’s sleep shirt and onto the roof. Grian thought it lucky that no one would be out this late to see the strange way the sparkles amplified the light more and more with each passing second.

What?

But the time Grian realized the microphone was hot, it was too late to let go. His body physically wouldn’t listen to him as the heat spread up his arm, burning his shot nerves. This time, he managed to keep in the scream as it hit his chest and neck. Without the adrenaline or panic from the days before, he could feel the way his bones popped and shifted beneath his skin, and how his wings were pulled apart and put back together roughly, feather by unnatural feather. His head ached something fierce, and his eyes were overcome by not the pink he knew, but a toxic looking purple.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the light and heat faded, and Grian settled into this unfamiliar body once more. Unlike last time, this had been an accident, and his brain wasn’t twitching with instincts he couldn’t fully comprehend.

Opening his eyes, the moonlight let him look upon himself with a mix of horror and anticipation. These clothes were not his, and that was terrifying in a completely different way. To be unknowingly changed in all ways, to the point not even his pajamas remained.

With a deep breath, Grian spread out his unfamiliar wings, and felt the resistance from the wind. If he shed a few tears in that moment, no one would know. The pink feathers that surrounded him were correct, unlike his own useless brown. Angling them up, he was pulled to his feet by the air.

“Why did I do this?” Grian shook his head, staring out at the city horizon through tears. It was tortuous, knowing this is what he could have been if he wasn’t born wrong. Sure, escaping reality was fun for a few moments, but only hurt more once it all came crashing back down.

A particularly hard gust of wind hit him, and Grian found himself stumbling along the roof, speeding dangerously close to the edge. His heart sped up at just the thought of being here. Just a little spike of adrenaline.

Transforming back would suck. Grian knew it sucked from personal experience. So… why not get something he wanted out of this first?

His legs shook as he looked over the edge of his apartment building. Bracing himself, he climbed up onto the ledge, trying to ignore the way his body desperately wanted him back on solid ground. That wasn’t him right now. He didn’t have to worry about falling.

And wasn’t that a fantastic thought?

Maybe the way he stepped off into the air was a little too cocky. He was missing some feathers after all, and the soreness in his entire body hadn’t faded yet. But when the pain of his feather’s catching air passed, Grian couldn’t help but feel ecstatic. He was actually doing it! Sure, he had to remind himself to flap his wings, and maybe it was more of a slow downward glide than true flying, but there he was.

Any terror about being seen was stomped down by the way he cut between the buildings, feeling the air rush past him. His eyes were watering at the unfamiliar sensation, but he couldn’t care less. Steadying himself, Grian willed a large flap, and he began to ascend. A childish giggle escaped his mouth.

Continuing his little journey, he weaved around some of the tallest buildings in the city in a figure eight, just getting the hang of turning. In his enchantment, Grian hadn’t noticed the blur of teal and orange that lurked atop, watching him closely. He even got the courage to point himself downward, letting his body catch some real speed before gently pulling back up in a large arch. Below him, the last buses of the night were finishing their routes, late night shifts changing hands, and night owls finally finding some peace and quiet in the world.

It was truly everything he’d dreamed of.

But as the night got later, and that initial rush of excitement began to wear off (though Grian suspected it would never truly go away), he began to look for somewhere to land. At that point he had no clue where he was, and his muscles were starting to ache. If he wanted to go home easily, he’d have to figure out the best direction to beeline in.

Spotting a mid-level building a little bit ahead, Grian figured he would be able to get his bearings and catch a break. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t 100% on the landings.

Doing his best to circle slowly down, an unlucky gust of wind knocked him off course at the last minute, and Grian found himself stumbling to keep his footing before promptly landing on his ass. At least he almost landed on his feet that time.

Brushing the dust off his clothes, he made his way over to the edge, swung his legs over the side of the building and pulled out his phone. Clicking open to the map app, he tried his best to orient which way he was looking. There was a pretty big intersection in front of him, and he knew he was still somewhere within the centre part of the city.

Behind him, a man landed silently, years of practice under his belt. He watched the other with curious, prying eyes. Finally, a voice rang out across the rooftop.

“Hello?”

Grian shot to his feet, whirling around in terror. His hand went to the mic on his belt before realizing he had no clue how to actually use it.

“Woah! Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Hot Guy.

The hero had come onto the scene a few years ago, wearing surprisingly little for the type of work he got up to. Tinted glasses framed his face, obscuring any chance at figuring out who he was. Not that Grian really cared. After all, he did good work. The news gave him a segment during the end of every week, covering the publicly reported stats of how many muggings, break in, and other crimes the man had handled. And it was a lot.

So sure, he trusted the man. As Grian.

But he wasn’t Grian right now. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure who he was in general, and having a prying hero wasn’t going to help anything. So, while working with him the other day was nice, he wasn’t looking for anything more than that. Grian took a shaking step towards the edge.

“Wait! Please.” Hot Guy sounded almost desperate, and took a shaking step towards the other. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

What.

“What?” Grian actually said that out loud, pausing his retreat. Actually, no! How the hell did this guy know where he was? “How did you find me?”

The hero immediately slumped, looking a bit sheepish. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for these past few partols, hoping I’d run into you. I managed to catch a glimpse of you around the Iver Tower…”

“So you followed me?” That was… freaky. Grian hadn’t had any clue anyone was watching him. Sure, there was the risk that someone might glance something quick out one of their windows, but to know he was stalked?

“Yes…” In every interview Hot Guy did, he was confident, well spoken, and not this shaking mess trembling before Grian. “I’ve been going out every night to see if I could see you. My partner told me to just let it go, that you were fine–” “Your partner is right.” Whatever he had to say to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible.

“--But I say how hard you hit the ground.” Hot Guy finished. “Your feathers were everywhere, and you left a streak of blood across the asphalt. Now, I’m no expert, but I do have some experience getting roughed up, and having a full-grown man use me as a toboggan would do some pretty heavy damage.”

Oh. Yeah, maybe Grian chose to forget that Hot Guy and nearly the rest of the city had seen how he completely failed that landing when dragging Jimmy to safety. So what? It wasn’t that strange of a way to land, and he’d been able to pull himself to his feet afterward. Sue him if it wasn’t the perfect, graceful fluttering steps of the old days.

When he didn’t get a response, Hot Guy laughed, nervously. “I just, are you okay?”

His wings twitched nervously, and Grian felt the way his bare skin hit the air. “I’m… healing. Uh, nothing I haven’t handled before.” Because he wasn’t supposed to be him.

Even in the dark, Grian could see the prying look in Hot Guy’s eyes, raking him up and down, as if searching for something. He could see the awkwardness drying up the longer he stared at the other, coming to his own conclusions. Grian didn’t want to hear them.

“Well, if that’s all, I’m going to go.” Backing up, his heels dangled off the edge of the building. Sure, it was show off-y, but Hot Guy actually thought he was a hero.

Speaking of, the hero shook himself. “No, please–”

“Sorry babe, you’re out of questions for the night. Thanks for your concern.” With that, Grian let himself drop.

He had no clue how to properly right himself from this position, and after stepping realized he was much too close to the ground. Oops. In trying to look cool, he made himself look like the most foolish baby bird stepping out of the nest for the first time. FInally, and just in the nick of time, his wings caught the air, and he went from perpendicular to parallel. With that, he shot one last look towards the building he’d stepped from, and saw Hot Guy had rushed to the edge, watching him. Great.

What was less great was that he now had to get home without the hero following him, and Grian heavily suspected he might. On top of that, while he had mostly managed to figure out where he was, he still wasn’t entirely sure how that got him back home.

No good decisions are made after 9pm. Even if they’re fun in the moment.

This time, Grian flew near the rooflines of each building he passed, making sure no one in them could risk seeing him. The whole time, he kept his head on a swivel, checking to make sure that blue and orange clad man was nowhere to be found. By the time Grian spotted his apartment building, he was fairly sure he was alone. Unless Hot Guy could turn invisible, and then he was doomed.

Speaking of doom, Grian cringed at the thought of having to make another landing, but knew he had a better chance at succeeding this time. So, trying the spiral technique again, he managed to avoid any rude gusts, and felt his feet hit the roof. Sure, he had to jog a bit to keep from falling, but he stayed upright! Absolute win!

In the horizon, the very, very beginnings of morning was peaking above the horizon, and Grian knew the rest of his day was about to be miserable. Not like Scar would punish him if he called out though–

No. There was too much to do.

Taking the microphone in hand, Grian braced for the explosion to tear through his body. That heat began to creep, and maybe he was just tired, or getting used to it, but it didn’t quite burn as much. Then came the shifting of his entire skeletal structure, and oh. There it was.

Panting as he laid on the rooftop, Grian tried his best to grab onto the memories he’d just made. The good ones at least.

“This can’t happen again.” He muttered to himself.

Grian was always good at lying. Especially to himself.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #avian grian #superhero au #life series smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #minecraft smp

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0asterous0 · 5 months ago

Text

Prologue, Part One.

Grian opened his eyes to darkness. There was nothing but a black void and pressure, the feeling of being dragged down to earth. He tried to remember where he was and how he got there but came up with nothing, his mind a complete mess of words and thoughts. It dawned on him that he was falling and instincts finally kicked in, forcing him up to try to save himself, but he couldn't. There was a noticeable absence on his back– he didn't have wings. The wrongness of the situation crawled deep inside his bones with fear overtaking his already racing mind. Grian was falling, and he didn’t know how far the ground was.

“No… no, no, no, no, no, no-”. He tried to move his wings again, hoping that maybe it was just numbness and that his wings were still there, but they were not. Why? They were supposed to be there! He felt as if was falling faster and faster with every second, and his head started to spin in panic which only served to make him dizzy, when he saw something flicker around him for a second.

Slowly, the darkness surrounding him started showing color– which would have been great if the color wasn’t a blinding white. His breath hitched when he finally recognized the white walls through the pain in his eyes, and this just made him even more panicked because he wasn’t falling toward the ground, he was falling sideways and Grian could see it because of all the doors he was flying by. With every flicker, every door left behind, he could see the golden numbers on the metal decreasing. He was sure he passed a golden 63 a few seconds ago, and now he was at 30-something. Did that mean..?

Despite the fear running through his mind, he glanced behind his back– and horror immediately took over upon seeing the metallic door without a number at the end of the corridor, rapidly getting closer. He turned on his side, hoping that maybe he could protect his spine from the fall somehow and take all the damage to the shoulder, but it didn’t stop the shiver in his body now that he could see the approaching wall. He covered that side of his face with his hands and closed his eyes, bracing for the collision, for the pain. Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain-

He heard a metallic click and a little hope sparkled inside him that maybe he was safe; but the moment he tried to move his hands to look, his shoulder came in contact with the white wall. The sudden thud of his body against the wall made his body jolt, head hitting the surface. He screamed into the white void, feeling his bones crashing against each other and blood dripping down his temple from a wound that opened on contact with the wall. He didn’t have enough power to raise his head; instead he stayed there, lying on the floor. The pain in both his body and his head was pulsating, making everything worse, and Grian could feel the incoming nausea. He just got a concussion, he thought, and by the way it all looked, he was either going to black out or throw up.

“Aaww,” Grian shuddered upon hearing the voice above him. He knew who this voice belonged to, he didn't need to look up and see the face to fall back into emotional distress; he could already feel the tears running down his cheeks, the agonizing pressure on his heart threatening to crush him to death.

“Can’t the pesky bird fly anymore?” As always, the tone was sad and sincere, but he knew better. He knew that the moment he looked up, he would be met with a cruel smile, laughing down at him.

Right. He remembered now.

A nightmare. Of course.

He opened his eyes and looked towards the door, seeing the familiar figure of a child through his tears– red vibrant eyes looking down at him. For a second, the cruel smile stayed the same, looking nothing like the kid from his childhood did, that he still held in his heart so dearly; but then it moved and Grian can hear a very steady and determined, but also not very childlike voice.

“Wake up!” Yeah, that is not the same voice.

Wake up, wake up, wake up, Grian I know you can hear this, gooood morniiiiiing, hellooo!! Time to get up!!

“Uuughhh, Ren whyyy?” Grian tried hiding his face behind the pillow, but the stupid alarm clock kept going, the voice becoming louder.

Wakey-wakey!!! Wake up! Wake up! WAKE UP! WAKE UUUUUP!

“Void, just kill me now,” Grian whispered into the pillow and finally leaned on his elbows, standing up from the bed. His wings swept against the blanket and dropped it down on the floor, but he had no desire to pick it up. His room was already a mess with all his paints and brushes scattered on the ground, while his desk was fully occupied with papers and pencils. Needless to say, he completely ignored the overflowing dirty clothes basket that was standing on the side of his closet. He needed to take care of it because soon he would be out of clothes to wear, but that’s a problem for future Grian; now-Grian had to deal with the clock.

The awful clock that he– unfortunately– couldn’t break (“It’s a gift from Bdubs! He loves his clocks, it’s basically a friendship offering!” Ren had declared.) stood proudly on his nightstand. The annoying recording of wake up still going on and on, echoing in the messy room. He quickly found the button and finally turned it off. He would have loved to go back to bed and sleep some more, hopefully without any nightmares this time; but sadly, the alarm worked because Grian was now awake.

Letting out a yawn, he stretched his limbs and turned towards the full-length mirror standing against the wall. Grian didn’t like looking in the mirror. He didn’t like seeing messy and greasy hair, knowing how good and fluffy it looked after a bath. He didn’t like looking at the dark eyebags that he’d been trying to get rid of for weeks. He didn’t like seeing his dirty and coffee-stained pajamas that he’d been trying to throw into a washing machine for a while now, without any success. So tiring.

But he could see his wings back in their rightful place, and that was enough to calm him down.

Stupid nightmares messing with him again.

He checked that the battery on his phone was full before taking it off the charger, and then looked at the time. 7:38, the same time he woke up for work every day, but today it seemed too early. Maybe he didn’t get enough rest again, and his nightmare messed that up too. Ugh, he could already see how awful this day would be. Holding his phone in hand, he exited his bedroom, going down the corridor towards the kitchen while ignoring the door to another bedroom just ahead of his own. Knowing Ren, he was already up and about.

-der the rubble. The superhero team alongside the fire department arrived four minutes later, getting everyone out without any lethal casualties. Two out of the eight victims were hospitalized in critical conditi-

“Took you long enough!” Ren said with a giggle, while Grian flinched. Right, Ren. He took his eyes off the TV that was hung in the living room right in front of the kitchen, looking towards his roommate.

Despite the very early hour he already looked full of energy, his eyes sparkling and dog ears swiftly flapping around. He had his long reddish hair in a messy bun and wore his favorite “Let me cook!” apron, which made Grian laugh when he first got it. Hearing that giggle and seeing the mischievous grin, he knew that the ‘Ren alarm’ was loud enough for the culprit to hear it himself. He could see that he was very satisfied with the result. Grian could also see two plates on the dining table because Ren, as always, was cooking for them both.

______

'-.° Masterpost - Next Part °.-'

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