That could be their next halloween costumes, if they can convince Virgil to be relish. John could be Mayonnaise (to go with his pale complexion ^_^) and Scott, well, he can be the hotdog.
When eldest Bro looks like how we all feel, it’s time to head to our fave retreat in the U.S for some fun and some R'n'R .
Its the one place where we can cut ourselves off from the company and the rescue op.and just be friends and brothers. And, its the only place John will let us call him Johnny.
Based of this prompt list by @azzurina . I got 10 prompts in!
~
Scott stayed where he was.
It wasn’t a choice on his part - his hands bound behind him and the goons on either side keeping him pinned down on his knees meant that decision was made for him - but it didn’t stop him glaring at his captor.
The Hood merely stared back, the smallest uptick of a smile the only outward sign that he was finding Scott’s position amusing.
He stepped forward and crouched down, millimetres from Scott’s ear, and spoke softly. It was creepy and Scott barely managed to suppress his shudder as the man’s breath tickled his ear.
‘You think you’re brave, don’t you? But you’re not. You're not brave. You're just too naive to know fear.’
Scott tried to rock back, away from having to be so close to the man who had killed his father, but the grip on his shoulders tightened, locking him in place.
The Hood stood up so suddenly that Scott flinched and the man laughed.
‘You couldn’t have proved my point any better!’
‘What do you want, Hood?’
‘What I always want. Money. Power. The Thunderbirds. Your head on a platter.’
‘Forget it. They’ll never give you what you want. They don’t give in to monsters.’
‘I didn't become a monster. I became honest. Your father, on the other hand…’
‘Don’t you dare talk about my father! You murdered him!’
The Hood paused and watched Scott struggle against his henchmen, and for one moment it looked like the boy might actually get free, but a particularly nasty punch to his side had Scott doubled over and they could start this delightful conversation again.
‘Spare me your theatrics. If your father had left well enough alone he would still be here and I wouldn’t be talking to you.’
With a disdainful sniff the Hood began a slow walk around his captive.
‘I gave him a chance to walk away. That was my one act of mercy. Unfortunately Jeff chose to ignore that and it cost him. Dearly. But I did warn him.’
‘You would have destroyed the planet!’
‘Don’t be stupid, Scott.’
‘Oh really? You set off a chain reaction that meant total annihilation if Dad didn’t stay and - and do what he did. He saved the planet!’
‘The world doesn't want saving. It wants someone strong enough to rule it.’
‘And I suppose that’s gonna be you. You need all this money, power, to make your bid for World President?’
‘Of course not. The World President doesn’t hold the real power.’
‘And neither will you.’
‘You seem so sure!’
‘I have hope. The world will not give you what you want. My brothers will not.’
‘Hope is just disappointment that hasn't arrived yet. I would have thought you’d learnt that by now - especially since it took barely any time for the World Government and the GDF to demand you hand over your ’Birds last time!’
Scott ground his teeth. Villain he might be but the Hood wasn’t lying about that…he watched as the man once more crouched down in front of him.
‘You think righteousness is armour. It's a blindfold. You're fighting for people who would turn on you in a heartbeat. That have already proved they would. You bleed for people who sleep soundly while you suffer. You're the last echo of a dying ideal.’
‘You’re wrong.’
The Hood reached out and patted Scott’s cheek condescendingly before standing and making his way around his desk to sit down. He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his chin as he thought.
‘Well, much as I have enjoyed this conversation, Scott, I have much to do and so do you.’
‘You won’t get away with this, Hood!’
‘Get away with it? Oh my dear boy, I've already taken everything from you. You just don't know it yet. Take him away.’
Throughout my infancy, I suffered repeated ear infections, ear aches and tonsillitis. I spent a lot of time on penicillin. Like a worrying amount. So much so that when I was 2 my ENT doc informed my parents that I needed a tonsil & adenoidectomy, bc they were killing me. If I had lived at any other time, I would not have made it out of childhood. I am forever grateful to antibiotics and vaccines.
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | AO3 With thanks to @the-original-sineater for the read-through.
~
‘Scotty, how far back do you remember before you woke up this morning?’
Scott paused and his brow furrowed as he fought through his patchy memory. The frown depended as he came up with nothing, and Sally perched on the bed, reached out and took her grandson’s hand in both of hers. She held them gently, rubbing a thumb over Scott’s knuckles to provide some comfort.
‘Don’t fight it. If you can’t remember now it will either come in its own time or it won’t so there’s no point in worrying too much about it. Let’s just concentrate on getting better, ok?’
‘Ok, Grandma.’
‘Do you want me to go through with you what injuries you have?’
She waited, knowing that Scott would want to know but Sally also knew that letting him choose the “how much” he could manage at one time would gave him a measure of control over the present situation. Her grandson hated not being in control of himself or things that happened to him.
‘Uh…I…can you tell me how my wings are?’
‘Yes. You have half of your feathers missing on your right wing, some scarring and burnt bone.’
‘Oh. That’s…that’s not great…how long will it take to heal?’
‘I’m not going to sugar coat it for you, Scotty. There’s some damage to your muscle and bone that will make growing back the feathers slower. You’re looking at a few months at the least. But you should be able to phase them back in a couple of days once the superficial injuries have healed enough.’
‘Well that will be good.’
He settled back, resting a little easier now he had something to aim for. A couple of days until he could phase, and then just until his feathers grew back.
They stayed together in companionable silence for a short while until Scott drifted off. He fought it hard but he didn’t stand a chance against his healing body and lingering effects of the sedation and the drugs he’d been pumped with.
Once he was fully asleep Sally got up and stretched before going to fetch more coffee. She was well aware that Virgil would be along shortly. Hell, it was a miracle he hadn’t shown up the second Scott was awake. Going up to the kitchen would give Virgil some alone time with his brother that he really needed. So she took her time.
As expected Virgil was beside Scott. His head was bowed, almost touching his brother’s forehead, and despite only having slept a very short while Scott was carefully listening. Sally lingered for a moment until Scott’s eyes shifted to her and he smiled. At the same time Virgil and turned to face her…
Sally couldn’t help but chuckle at them.
She settled into the other chair and just watched the two reorientate themselves. There were going to be long conversations in the future, she knew, but for now Sally revelled in having all her grandsons under one roof, even if they were not fully healed yet.
There was something…something that had happened during that rescue. Something had happened with Virgil, and Sally knew from long experience that only Scott would be able to help him with that.
She sighed inwardly but kept smiling. It was yet another thing her boys had to deal with.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the boys and Kayo to arrive, drawn by some sixth sense that the eldest was once again awake.
The next three days passed quickly for everyone except Scott, but by the end of that third day he was itching to get out of bed – a good sign indeed. He was managing to stay awake and, unlike that first day, Scott didn’t ask what had happened to him or how his wing was.
He still didn’t remember, though.
The remains of pizzas lay scattered around the infirmary and the atmosphere was light when Gordon shifted from his perch at the end of Scott’s bed, dusted his hands and sat down in the chair John had just vacated.
Eyeing Scott, Gordon deliberately waited until the room quietened down. All eyes turned to him and he smirked at his oldest brother.
‘So Scotty, you ready to get out of that bed and back to work?’
‘Can’t wait!’
‘Glad to hear it. But first you have some physio to complete.’
‘Oh great. Yay.’
Scott’s deadpan delivery caused everyone to laugh and Gordon was grinning as he talked about the program he was planning. With Scott being bedbound for over a week now his muscles needed working on, and Scott would work hard – too hard if they didn’t watch him – and Gordon was best placed to help him.
The program started more gently than Scott would have liked but he respected Gordon’s expertise. Respecting his brother’s expertise in his head was easier than in person and several times he had to be reminded to take it slower.
Of course no one was surprised when Scott was absolutely shattered after that first day.
Virgil had to help him to bed. There was a lot of groaning from Scott and laughing from his brother but after a couple of false starts Scott was finally in bed. Virgil went to leave only for Scott to latch onto his arm firmly. When he went to move Scott gripped more firmly.
‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For rescuing me.’
Virgil froze. He wanted to say something but the words stuck in his throat. He blinked rapidly to try and cover his emotions but Scott saw through him anyway. As he always did.
‘You saved me.’
‘I – I nearly…’
‘No. You saved me and that’s all that matters. That’s all that matters. So, I’ll say it again and I’ll say it a million times if it helps you to stop beating yourself up over something that would have happened to anyone in your position. Thank you for saving me.’
‘You’re – swallow – you’re welcome.’
The lump in his throat didn’t disappear and he couldn’t stop a couple of tears falling. But Virgil was smiling and his heart was lighter as Scott pulled him down onto the bed.
I know nothing about how birds grow in feathers, but please tell me he's going to be a fluff ball to begin with? ( I know he's more likely to be a spike covered mess, like the parrots that pull their own feathers out, but fluff ball is stuck in my head)
The upper bits of the wings (the down feathers) would be super poofy at first before the rest of the wing (the primary and secondary feathers) starts its spikey journey :3
So it would be fluffy only up top for a short while! But fluffy nonetheless!
Inspired by comments from @thebirdfantasy and @womble1 on Wings & Feathers. Unfortunately their comments won’t work with Marks & Wings…but that’s doesn’t mean it won’t work with Eagle!Scott. With thanks to @mariashades for allowing me to use her lore of 'weres needing to eat raw meat, and for her and @the-original-sineater for the read-throughs.
This is a standalone series that isn’t canon with my Transformation series.
~
”Really little babies sure are ugly” was the thought that ran through Jeff’s mind as he held his three-day-old carefully.
He yawned widely as he regarded the wrinkled object of his thoughts. As if he’d known his father was thinking about him Scott’s eyes seemed to focus on Jeff…and he screwed up his face and began to cry in earnest.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Daddy didn’t mean it, Scotty!’
Jeff repeated the refrain over and over while gently jiggling the affronted tot, but Scott would not be comforted.
Eventually Lucy appeared. Even freshly woken up from her nap earlier than hoped for she looked radiant. And as Lucy took Scott and settled him to her breast Jeff could help but fall in love with her all over again.
Nor could he stifle a little grumble at how easily Scott had stopped fussing…
Of course, once Scott hit nine weeks he began to look like the usual baby seen in pictures, and Jeff stopped worrying so much about having an ”ugly” baby.
Lucy had thumped him quite hard when he’d voiced this out loud one morning. And then she’d fixed him with a fierce glare that promised worse if he should ever dare to say such a thing again.
Then she’d been deliberately cryptic with what she next said.
”Just remember that when you see Scotty change.”
His wife had never hid from him her other-self. She was a wolf - a beautiful white wolf when she wanted to be or needed to be - and as such there was a distinct possibility that their children would inherit the gene from her.
What animal that gene would produce would be anyone’s guess - anything was possible, and while Lucy secretly hoped for at least one of her children to be a wolf too, she’d be happy with any creature, or even if they didn’t inherit anything.
It was as Scott began teething a couple of months later that his very first transformation occurred.
One moment he was a beautiful (if dribbly) baby boy, the next he was a mass of pale fluff. The bird clacked his beak at Jeff before whatever raptor Scott had turned into carefully settled on Lucy’s lap.
A look at Jeff’s face had her laughing quietly, trying her hardest not to disturb the little eaglet, but Scott let out an indignant squawk at being jostled so, with some very visible effort, Lucy got herself under control.
‘Jeff, you’ll hurt Scotty’s feelings if you keep looking at him like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you have no idea what he is!’
Flushing, Jeff muttered and he also pulled himself together.
‘Do we even know what bird he is?’
‘He’s an eagle I think. Very distinctive beak. Which one we won’t know until his feathers grow in.’
‘An eagle, huh? Nice.’
Again Lucy suppressed her mirth. She’d laughed along with Ruth at Jeff’s shock at discovering newborns weren’t necessarily the most beautiful and now he’d have to go through that all again.
Baby birds were definitely not…pretty. But if Jeff thought a down-covered eaglet wasn’t that pretty she couldn’t wait to see his reaction as Scott’s feathers grew through.
But the pale downy fluff was soft and she enjoyed gently scratching her nestling and Scott seemed to thoroughly enjoy the attention too.
From that time onwards they could never be sure what would greet them first thing. There seemed no pattern as to whether Scott was a baby or an eaglet, but what was certain was that during his roughest times teething he’d frequently change into his bird self.
And as baby Scott reached his milestones so did the eaglet.
The pale downy covering was quickly replaced by a thick grey down. This stayed for a couple of weeks before the pin feathers began to emerge through the down.
Poor Scotty went through a miserable few weeks as this coincided with the breaking through of his upper incisors. Both his selfs were uncomfortable…
Eventually though he had four incisors as his baby self and black-brown feathers on his wings, back and shoulders.
The rest of the eaglet stayed dark grey down, and sometimes, especially when Jeff was feeding Scotty raw meat strips, Lucy would catch him staring at the juvenile with a puzzled look.
The next stage of growth for both selves seemed to arrive suddenly, although Lucy knew that wasn’t the case.
As Scott began to crawl in earnest so his down began to be replaced with his juvenile plumage. Light brown and white feathers replaced the down and a small crest grew at the back of his head.
All this meant that his parents finally found out what species of eagle he was. And Lucy laughed for quite a while. Of course their baby was going to grow up into the biggest eagle there was…
But for now he was still small…ish, and was beginning to flex his wing muscles, so Jeff and Grant set about building several perches at various heights and they cleared the surroundings so Scott could stretch out to his fullest without fear of damaging himself or anything else.
The crest that Scott sported amused both parents.
By the time his eagle-self was a fledging his wing and tail feathers had grown in. His flight feathers had hardened and Scott enjoyed flexing his wings. He’d lost that ‘ugly duckling’ look and was a quite majestic Harpy Eagle even though he wasn’t an adult yet.
Both Jeff and Lucy had done much research on raptors and Harpy Eagles in particular. The wingspan he had now would be a little longer than as a fully-grown adult bird – the web had referred to is as “training wheels” to provide extra help while learning to fly.
It was at this time they came to the realisation that their apartment, while reasonably roomy, was not fit for a growing bird, and as a walking Scott was just as difficult to keep an eye on as a flying Scott…
Grant came to their rescue, letting them know about a farmhouse with land going on the opposite side of town. It was a large building with several outbuildings and fields that Grant would get his men to work if Jeff was interested.
Now eighteen months old, toddler-Scott was into everything and had a turn of speed Jeff frankly envied. He could get into places in the apartment that his parents were sure he shouldn’t be able to. The boy had no concept of “slow” as both human and bird, and it didn’t take long for Scot to take a serious tumble and break his arm.
Thank goodness he’d been human at the time…
It was the deciding factor in them taking the farmhouse.
That, and finding out they were expecting again.
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