Clipped Wings

It had been a rough fight on unfamiliar ground. The three of them had been tracking down a crimelord who had been causing trouble in their home town for years, who had gotten away the last time they fought and who had since been hiring supers to deal with the heroes he might encounter in future. The man's ambitions had long since grown from power and wealth to something far more sinister. He delved into revenge fantasies and dreams of obliterating vast expanses to the south. Essentially, he may well have gone completely insane. There was also a theory between the three of them, Minh, Hien and Thanh, that something else may have been pulling the strings, something not entirely human. Overall, whatever was happening here, it was dangerous, and they needed to get to the bottom of it.

The three heroes had ultimately tracked their prey, a greasy and violent slimeball by the name of Thoi Ngoc, to a vast expanse of sand and heat. Minh wasn't entirely sure where they were geographically, it was Thanh in charge of navigation. It didn't matter. They thought they were about to corner him, and he sent his top bodyguards on them, because of course he did. He was desperate. It was just a little confusing, though, because unless one of them had the ability to make them all invisible, there was absolutely nowhere in the flat, plain heat hell they could have been hiding.

He recognised one of the three bodyguards. A Latina girl, he didn't know her real name, but she went by the alias of Gigantica, because she could grow bigger than the trees. He'd fought her a lot in the past, and the two definitely hated each other. The second appeared to be a man who had been alongside Ngoc many years back, one of the men in his original cartel who must have also survived the raid. Though he looked to be Vietnamese, despite strange, inhuman eyes, he introduced himself quite amicably as Firebreath Qinni, and had spoken with a strange accent, one Minh couldn't quite place. The third was a bored looking white man none of the three had ever seen before, but every step seemed to send a quake through the ground. He was the smallest of the three, but seemed to carry some major power in that small body of his. Quake didn't introduce himself, never once opened his mouth to speak, just moved to protect his charge.

It took a long time to settle, during which time Ngoc had successfully escaped. Now, Minh didn't consider himself the strongest in the team by any means, far from it, the situation was a good one for him. The only one who could fly, nimble and quick, and more resistant to fire than the others, luck was in his favour for a short while, and he was able to deal some damage. Hien and Thanh had been taken out, and he was flying around, buzzing by Gigantica like an annoying fly, albeit a fly that could breathe fire and had caused partial thickness burns here and there already, trying to avoid being swatted out the sky by her. Below him, Qinni and Quake were either out for the count, or playing dead. He didn't really want to find out which one. Hien was bleeding badly, Quake's powers having caused his armour to splinter and cause him harm, and Thanh was unconscious. Minh wasn't badly hurt, but he was tired. The fight was close, and he couldn't be sure he would win, even if his opponent was struggling to land a hit. One wrong move could end with him crushed like a bug.

Minh made a decision. He decided to swoop down, grab his friends and beat a retreat. Positioning himself, he dived down behind the enemy, toward Hien. The Guardian was starting to look scarily pale. He drew close, outstretched his hands, and something shiny and sharp burst from nowhere and hit him in the chest.

His own speed, mixed with the weight of the impact, sent him spinning back across the hot sand. He tumbled, like falling down a flight of stairs, and ended sprawled in a less than comfortable position not far from Gigantica's foot. Near The Guardian, a woman slowly stepped out into existence, holding two long, bladed weapons dripping with blood. She had brown hair, greying, tied in a bun that made her look like Miss Trunchbull. She was older than the other three, and sunburned. Minh hadn't realised there had been a fourth enemy lurking around, but it sure explained why the others had been so well hidden. There was little miss invisible, here to ruin the day. He wanted to get up, get away, but the hit to his chest had winded him badly. He managed to get a hand to his chest, and was surprised to find it stung to touch. His hand came away wet, and he became aware his shirt was also getting soaked with something other than sweat.

The bladed weapons. The fourth hadn't just hit him, she had sliced into his flesh. He wondered if she would have made herself known if he hadn't tried to escape, or if she would have gone and killed his friends unseen. Fuck. Fuck, this was bad. He had to get out of there before it got worse. Keeping one hand to his chest to stem the flow of blood, he reached his other out to pick himself up

and Gigantica picked him up faster. Large fingers closed around his waist, trapping his elbow to his side. His stomach dropped out as she lifted him into the air, bringing him to eye level. The fourth enemy flew up and sat on Gigantica's hand, next to her captive.

"What should we do with him?" The big lady asked the small one as Minh tried to struggle. He couldn't move his legs, and breathing in was hard, so he could hardly get a spark out of his throat. He beat at her fingers weakly with his free hand, but that did fuck all.

"I have a few ideas." Answered Invisible, as Minh decided to dub her. "Take him down to ground level so his friends can see. I'll wake the boys."

Gigantica shrunk down, but kept her hand large enough to hold him, tightening her hold just briefly to make him stop struggling. He cried out weakly, not having enough air to scream. He shut his eyes tight, not sure how long, but when he opened them again, Qinni and Quake were up again, stood in front of him with Invisible. He tried to take a deep breath, but it came shallow and painful. Qinni leaned in close and drew a sharp fingernail across his cheek.

"You're the kid Gaddris saved." He mused, cocking his head to one side curiously.

"G-Gaddris?" Minh hadn't heard that name since he was fourteen. He sure wasn't expecting that name from this man's mouth. "How...how do you know Gaddris?"

"Gaddris...he's no friend of mine, if that's what you're thinking. Quite the opposite." He circled round the hand, and Minh turned his head to try and keep him in view. "The real question is what Braveheart Gaddris would want with a human child in the first place. Of course, he's no ordinary human child." He felt the man touch his wings and shuddered. "Someone's been sleeping with humans, I see. Which suggests you're a family relation?" He heard Qinni spit. "That's disgusting. That's like if a human had a baby with a dog." None of the others seemed at all offended by Qinni's words. In fact, they seemed to be watching him as though awaiting orders. Behind Minh, he gave a firm nod and wiped his hand on his trousers. "Let's clip the wings of Gaddris' little champion here."

"No!" Minh started to struggle again. "No no no, please, no!" It had been so painful growing them in the first place, he'd been through so much just getting them, and if he couldn't fly, he and his friends would be stranded in this desert, left to die. He heard something wet tear behind him, and saw bits of Qinni's clothes and skin fall to the floor.

Quake gagged and turned away. The hand that grabbed Minh's wings was now thicker, clawed and scaly. He really was whatever strange thing Uncle Gaddris had been.

"Please...please no..." Minh begged again. "Please d-" He cut off with a strangled squeal as Gigantica tightened her hold again. He heard pops and cracks as joints dislocated and bones broke, and by some miracle managed not to cry. He panted for breath and felt a pull at his wings.

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad, he thought. Maybe they'd injure one wing, stop him from flying, and leave him there. Maybe someone would come to save him. They had devices on them they could activate to send out an emergency distress signal, they could have called for help as soon as the villains left them be. Maybe no-one would die today after all.

"Kristen, Ram, come give me a hand here, will ya? Kim, be a dear and hold him steady." Invisible and Quake walked round behind him to join Qinni. Quake still looked a little ill. Three pairs of hands gripped his wings, and at Qinni's command, they began to pull.

At first, it was tugging, pinching, then muscles pulling and tearing, the joints of his wings dislocating. There was no way the three of them would be strong enough to fully rip his wings of, though, right? Nails and claws were digging into leathery flesh, and Minh was crying now. He was sure every joint he had in there was gone, and they were still twisting and pulling. He wasn't sure how long they were pulling for before they stepped away, getting their breath back. They sure as hell weren't going to move any more, sure as hell weren't going to fly.

"Think he's had enough?" Asked a man's voice.

"Not nearly." Answered a woman. "He burned my face! My face, Qinni! That's my best damn asset!"

"Yeah, it's fuck ugly now. You have blisters all over the place."

"He likes his wings so much, I want them ripped all the way off!"

"See, I only want to hurt him because he's with that fuckhead Gaddris. You have a personal vendetta."

"You know how many times I've fought this little idiot? Enough times that I'm not satisfied seeing him blubbering like a baby. Little dream crushing fly."

"Oh, go for it. Just make sure to save some for us too, yeah?" And with that, he was being lifted up again, and now it was Gigantica's finger and thumb on his wings.

It was as easy to her as pulling the leg off a Barbie doll. The sensation of having a body part physically torn off was one he couldn't really describe. It hurt, it was agonising. Flesh and sinew tore, and he felt his back try and go with it. His shoulders pulled back with the force, his body almost bent double. For a moment, he thought his spine would snap in two. He was faintly aware that he was screaming now. It seemed like an eternity, and then his back was a mess of torn, bloody flesh. He saw his wings thrown carelessly aside, and then...she opened her other hand.

Minh fell, no way to save himself. If he hit the ground from up there, he would certainly die, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He shut his eyes and awaited his fate, pain rippling through him still. He couldn't even think about the wind rushing by him or the ground coming up to meet him. All he could think of was the pain.

Mister Bones' Wild Ride

John liked to go and see the strange horses when he could. He didn't like many animals. He didn't like slimy textures of toads, and the last owl he tried to stroke bit him, and cats always had people cooing over them because they were cute, too many people. He would also pet them too hard, or pet them in the wrong place, and they would get sad and run away, or scratch him. He was learning to get better at that with Riordan's cat, which was slowly starting to trust him.

The good thing about the strange horses was that people didn't crowd around them. They looked kind of lizard-like, which he didn't like when he first saw it, and bony. Skinny. They let him come over and pet them, and didn't get upset by how he did it. They made horrible noises sometimes, but that was it. Overall, the strange horses were nice.

It had become habit for him now to take some bacon from breakfast, or ham from lunch, and hide it in his school bag until he had a free hour or half hour to go and see the horses. They liked meat, he'd found, so he would bring them meat from the hall.

Normally, he would go alone to see the horses. Today, Eric followed him, even though it was raining. He'd seen him grab a wodge of ham, fold it neatly and put it away in his bag, after all. He had questions, and lots of them, many of which he asked as they trudged through the mud towards the forest.

"So why do you keep taking ham out here?"
"For the horses."
"...Horses don't eat meat, John."
"These ones do. They're magic horses."
"...You mean hippogriffs?"
"Less feathers."
Eric thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know what you mean, mate."
"They pull the carriages at the beginning of the year."
"...The carriages pull themselves..."
"They pull the carriages." John insisted, winding his way through the trees. Eric dropped it, and followed quietly. Eventually, John stopped and laid the ham out.

They waited a few minutes. "Where are they?"
"They'll come for the ham if you're quiet."
So Eric crossed his arms and tried to find cover beneath one of the trees, waiting quietly until John called him.
"There! A big one. See it?"
There was nothing there, as far as the blond could tell. "No."
"Some people can't see them. I don't know why. Maybe we can ask Hagrid about them." From Eric's point of view, ham disappeared from the floor as John patted the air. From John's point of view, he was petting a thestral as it ate some ham.
"So how come you can see them and I can't?"
"I don't know. I said I don't know."
"Can Riordan see them?"
"I don't know."
"Can Penny see them?"
"I don't know."
A third voice cut through to them before Eric could ask another question. "Honestly, you two, what have I told you about hanging around out here during storms?" It was Violetta, another friend of theirs. John bet that Eric was about to ask if she could see the horses. He barely spared her a glance.
"You'll get cold and sick out here in the rain." He recited, still focusing on the horses. "Go inside and warm up. We can have hot chocolate."
"Sometimes, it feels like you and Penny are our mums." Eric muttered.
"I like seeing the horses." John explained. "They don't mind the rain. I don't mind the rain."
Violetta looked directly at them and smiled, coming forward to pet the same one John was. "You mean the thestrals? Yeah, they're pretty cool, huh? A lot of people who can see them don't like them. They're associated with bad omens, which is bullshit, and people think they're creepy. They're really sweet and affectionate though. Wild ones and trained ones. The ones in the forest are trained, I think."
"They don't bite, like the owls do. I have a scar on my finger from the owls."
Eric huffed. "How come you can both see them and I can't?"
Violetta was looking at the scar on John's finger as she explained. "They can only be seen by people who have seen and come to terms with death, that's what I've been told."
"Oh...well, John boasts that he stabbed someone once, so that explains that..."
"That guy was worse than the owls." John agreed with a nod. He then pointed back to the Thestral. "I call this one Mister Bones. I don't know if he actually is a mister. I don't know how to tell short of looking between the legs, and that's rude."
"I thought you liked being rude to people."
"Yes, people. Not to horses, though. The horses have never done anything wrong."
"Fair enough."

John stopped petting the thestral and spoke to Violetta. "You saw death?"
"Once. When I was little..."
John chose not to pry. It was rude, and Violetta was one of his best friends. "I've seen it a few times. People would get hurt or get cold and not make it. Then I came here and saw the horses and I didn't care any more. I like normal horses, too, but I don't see them nearly as much as I get to see these ones." They were quiet for a moment, and then he said "I was little too. Old enough to understand, but still young. And stupid. When I first saw someone die, I thought I was with a family I'd be with for the rest of my life. I was six, I think, and all the other families had decided they didn't want me. Fostering, they said it was, I wasn't technically adopted, not even with this couple, and it was always really upsetting when I went back and forth between houses, I didn't like it. The dad that time died suddenly. The mum was out somewhere, and the dad choked on lunch and died in front of me. I think the mum blamed me. Most people, I tell them the first person I saw die was my real dad, and he deserved to die, but it was the dad I had when I was six. He was nice. He used to carry me on his shoulders and put my name into songs."
"Oh, John, I'm so sorry." For a moment, Violetta reached out to touch his shoulder in a comforting gesture, but read his body language and pulled back at the last minute. He didn't like unexpected touches, after all. He gave Mister Bones a few more pets, then turned on his heel and began to walk away.
"I need to go to the toilet." He announced. "I'm coming back afterwards, though."
"What about charms class?" Asked Eric.
"Fuck charms class."
"Huh."

Once John was out of sight, Eric approached Violetta. "He really likes you, you know."
"Yeah, I'd hope so. We're good friends, at the very least."
"Yeah, but he likes you more than Riordan or Penny. He shares with you without being asked. I think the only person he likes more than you is me."
"Uh huh, sure."
"I mean, it's impossible to like anyone more than me."
"Yep. You're really full of yourself, Eric."
"I know. You love me anyway." He bumped shoulders with her, then sighed. "John once told me 'I can't stand blond people, but I'll make an exception for you', and from him, that's a huge compliment. That's the day we became best friends. I think I'm gonna embellish it in future, make it sound cooler. Include pirates, maybe."
Violetta nodded. "Stuff it with pirates. John will always tell the real version, but you can make it wilder every time."
"Definitely. He's honest to a fault, that boy." Eric gazed to the empty space where he thought the thestrals were, and felt an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. A tight ball of sickness. He couldn't see these death horses now, and now he knew they were seen only when one had witnessed death, he wasn't sure he wanted to. If anyone around him was going to die, it would be his sister with her awful habits and self-abusive behaviours, and he didn't want to watch her go, then be reminded of that every time he saw a horse. With a shudder, he shifted closer to Violetta, using the cold and the rain as an excuse, never willing to admit he needed comfort.

((This started off as just Eric, John and Vi bonding near thestrals and then part of it turned into 'hey, remember how John's life sucks?', then turned into 'Eric has death-related anxiety'. Violetta does not belong to me.))

Blep

"Why are you wearing such a low cut top? What if the others see you?"

The comment had taken her by surprise. First and foremost, her top wasn't even that low-cut. Her chest was certainly covered modestly. She looked down at herself, trying to figure out what was wrong with it, and he continued on with his sweet but somewhat possessive talk. About how he loved her and she was his and his only.

Now, she knew he didn't mean it in a rude way, she knew damn well he was worried about other men staring at her boobs, but when he critiqued her choice of outfit, it felt different to her. It reminded her of years of being told she couldn't wear what she wanted to, because her body was something that shouldn't be seen.

Dajoo had thought she'd looked good when she first put this shirt and skirt on. It had been a risky outfit when she'd bought it, it showed off a fair amount of skin without being indecent, but to put it simply, Dajoo was not a slim girl by any means. She'd been told so many times that she couldn't wear this or that because of her weight, but when she'd gotten dressed that morning and taken a look in the mirror, she had genuinely felt beautiful. Really, really beautiful. It wasn't often she felt good about her looks like that. She'd been bullied for years for her weight, her albinism, her hearing aid, the fact she didn't look a thing like her sisters, anything that made her different, and it had undoubtedly had an effect on her, but today she felt beautiful. And usually, Zen helped her feel beautiful.

But not today.

Today, he told her not to go out in public in clothes that showed this much skin. Today, he told her to cover up. Today, he told her he didn't want other people to see her body. And though the rational part of her knew he was saying she was too attractive to be seen, at least in his eyes, that other men might do something nasty or try to take her away, the irrational part of her mind insisted he was saying what everyone else said. That no-one wants to see her. She felt her eyes sting and an unpleasant feeling well up in her chest.

No. No, she wasn't going to cry. She was going to be an adult, and politely ask her boyfriend not to tell her off for wearing nice clothes in public. And maybe ask that he try not to get so jealous or possessive, because as sweet as he was, it honestly scared her a little sometimes. But first thing was first, she couldn't spend the rest of this relationship second guessing everything she wears because he might tell her to cover up again. She would talk to him as soon as he was finished filming.

RB Short

Looking up at the familiar old house, Sean felt a wave of nostalgia. It looked just as he remembered it. The white walls, the brown tiles and burgundy door, chipped paint on the window frames and a well kept lawn with purple flowers lining the walkway. It was two floors, three bedrooms, one bathroom, and had a small garden at the back for children to play in.

Many years ago, Sean had lived in this house. He had been a young child living a happy life. He had had toys, a family and a bed. That had been a good time. And here he was, staring up at the house he hadn't seen since the day his parents died.

It had been a long time since he had come to this house, and never once in this timeline. Not this version of himself, and not this version of the house. Sean had been searching for a reality like this for a long time, and now he was here he wasn't sure what to do next.

The reality in which Sean now stood was the first reality he had located in which his mother and sister were still alive. It was also a reality in which he had died, or perhaps had never been born. He was sketchy on the exacts, but he knew there was no Sean Tavistock in this place.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and he turned to face them. It was a woman and a young girl, maybe about ten years of age. The girl was unfamiliar to him, and he didn't know her name, but the woman was unmistakably his mother. It had been a long time since he'd seen her, and longer still since he'd been this close to her.
"Excuse me," she said, biting her lip slightly and pulling her daughter closer, protectively, as if she feared the ragged man before them. "Can I help you?"
At that moment, Sean wanted nothing more than to hug her, to hold her tight and inhale her perfume and pretend she really was his mother.

He held himself back.

"No. I used to live here, is all. I just...wanted to see it again."
Honor, his mother, frowned, as if she didn't believe that. "You look very young."
Of course. His mother had lived here a few years before he had been born. He shrugged. "I get that a lot." She wouldn't believe the truth even if he told her. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am." He walked past the two of them, letting his gaze linger on their faces for a little too long.

He saw, in that moment, what future awaited this version of Honor Tavistock, or rather, Honor Mitchell, as in this reality she returned to her maiden name after her husband tried to kill her before killing himself, and her young daughter. In a matter of months, the two of them would be dead. Illness was coming to this reality, was already sinking in, and if he stayed too long, he would catch it too. His eyes began to sting, a ball forming in his throat and a weight in his chest. All he wanted to do was meet his baby sister just one time, but he couldn't even ask her name without earning a look of fear and disgust from the woman he had once called mother. There was no recognition, no sign of care or concern. Just...fear. Some belief that the man in front of her meant her harm.

This reality was a failure as well. He'd never intended to stay, of course. He had more waiting for him in his home reality than he would ever have here, but for just a moment, stood before his childhood home, with his mother and sister stood with him, he could pretend. Pretend he was normal, pretend he didn't have his powers and that he hadn't seen his own death thousands of times over, that he lived in this house with this family instead of in a storage unit with toys and memorabilia from the various worlds he'd visited. It was a warm thought, but as he stood there, at the end of the drive, eyes closed and trying to imagine, his body just felt cold. Cold and sad. He heard the front door go as Honor and her daughter retreated inside, and knew they were about to report his behaviour to police. Instead of crying, he made sure no-one was looking, and went home.