Menagerie
( Worm / Alt-Power )
#01

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The wind pulled my hair out behind me as Pretty Bird raced down 5th street, her long, powerful legs chewing through the distance to downtown as she wove her feathered mass in, out, and around the much slower traffic crowding the street. All without any input on my part.

Smiling, I shifted in my saddle to peek around Pretty Birds feathered neck. It was like sticking your head out the window while driving down the interstate. Fortunately for me though I had a pair goggles to protect my eyes and a simple cyclist mask to keep my from sucking down any bugs. Messing up once was good enough for me to remember them after the first time.

Unfortunately looking ahead didn't let me see anything pleasant or reassuring, like, say, a familiar land mark so I knew I would be arriving on time. Instead it was a sea of red light's up ahead, going several hundred feet until it reached the intersection lights with the parking lot getting larger as more cars ahead of me slowed to a stop.

Funny thing though, the intersection lights were green ahead. Then a plume of thick black smoke billowed out from a side street or alleyway just a little ways past the intersection.

Seeing that, combined with the traffic confusion, just screamed cape. Well maybe that was jumping to conclusions, but in this city occam's razor tended to lean in the "a cape did it" direction so it wasn't out of the question. In fact it was practically guarantied.

For a moment, I eyed the smoke even as it rose and thinned out. It wasn't my business I told myself, I wasn't a 'hero'. That had been made clear enough for me. Following what I'd been told, I should just ignore it and take another route.

That thought just made me grimace of distaste though, it was one thing to not not seek out criminals, but the idea of just ignoring something that was in my path just didn't sit right. It practically made me sick to my stomach… yeah, Dad was probably going to be upset.

With a little mental nudge Pretty Bird took off, her speed practically doubling and the street blurred beneath us as her legs propelled us forward in great strides and she let out a keening screech as she ran toward headlong the parking lot. Her war cry announcing her presence and insurance companies have mercy on anyone who opened their car door on her..

Thankful as ever for my saddle and riding clothes I clung onto Pretty Bird's reins for dear life and kept my feet firmly in the stirrups as the Terror-Bird veered off into the other side of the road and straight into oncoming traffic. Definitely, not planned. The Terror Bird didn't seem to have a problem though, maybe thanks to her height or her war cry, it seemed people had seen her and slowed down and she had plenty of room to weave herself through until we reached the intersection and we found a late model sedan blocking the way.

Problematic for some, but not Pretty Bird. She just tucked her head a little lower and in a burst of speed propelled us at the car until at the last moment she sprang up and over the car in a- in my opinion -graceful leap.

My stomach, of course, went up into my throat. But something so minor as that kind of discomfort wasn't a concern for Pretty Bird… or, well, most of my menagerie sadly.

Now just a short ways away from the source of the smoke, my mount took slowing maneuvers and leaning into the turn she raced into the side street a third her original speed. For a second, I saw a boxy red shape before it blurred away as Pretty Bird lunged to the right and her long neck stretched so she could snap her hooked beak forward and snatch something out of the air.

A shrill squealing noise filled the still slightly smoky air, like nails on a chalkboard, as I used a combination of mental directions and her reins to turn Pretty Bird around so I was facing into the side street again and took the scene I'd come onto.

A big red armored truck, like the kind meant to transport money from stores to banks and stuff. Except this one wasn't going to be transporting anything any time soon if the gaping hole in the side of it was any indication. And leaning out of the hole, staring at me, was an arcade character. Leggy, but in a weird way, with a black overalls over a purple shirt combo that was matched by an oversized purple hat. And he had a mustache, some too slicked thing shaped into a W.

He slowly leaned a little further out of the armored van as he stared, his head went from me to Pretty Bird and looking at her he suddenly flinched back. Licking his lips he raised an index finger, "Um-"

Whatever he was nervous about and what he was going to say went unsaid as a gravely voice called out from the other side of the armored truck.

"Waluigi! What's the hold up?!"

Looking back to, the man, Waluigi, was suddenly interrupted again as Pretty Bird reared her head back and slammed her head down toward the street, where something met with a loud clang. Finally looking to whatever she'd caught I saw she had a metallic sphere, almost the size of a large medicine ball.

Grinding her beak back and forth over it she suddenly repeated the banging process again, likely in the hope to break it open like it was some big nut. This, interestingly enough, seemed to elicit a strangled cry that drew my attention back to Waluigi and I saw he'd been joined by another man. Grotesquely- or rather comically -overweight, with only a little ankle showing, he was wearing an almost identical getup as Waluigi except it had had a palette swap with a light purple for his overalls and a garish yellow shirt.

This whole setup, the outfits of these two, something nagged at the back of my brain, as if I should recognise these two.

The squealing started up again and the new arrival cringed before clearing his throat, "Ah, do you think you could-"

He and the other man fliched as Pretty Bird slammed the sphere into the street again, then three more times in rapid succession and with each bang the men flinched. Pretty Bird wanted to crack the thing open and the effect of her efforts almost seemed cause the two pain.

The purple one suddenly threw himself to the street, prostrating himself, "Oh Great Chocobo! Please Have Mercy!"

The other man seemed to slump into his fatness at his partners actions and without looking away from me, or maybe rather Pretty Bird and her catch, kicked the prostrating man in his side and grumbled at him to 'get up!' before raising his voice. "Yeah, um, just so you know that thing may explode if big bird keeps hammering it like that… Just saying. It's the third camera drone he's made so it's a little temperamental."

Things clicked. The strange outfits, exploding technology- or rather, Tinker-technology. Uber and Leet.

A quick mental command made Pretty Bird release the sphere where it promptly floated up and out of my line of sight. Not quite necessary for the Terror-Bird perhaps, but I wasn't quite so durable. I'd make it up to her though, today was feeding day after all.

Pretty bird followed it through, her head cocking to the side to glare at it before turning around to face me. She bumped me with her beak and reaching out I slowly patted her beak. Yeah, she was disappointed. Definitely getting an extra chicken or two.

Absently, I wondered if any of the animal rights people would be there today and felt a tickle of vindictive glee when a cough drew my attention back to the duo I saw the leggy one was fiddling with a phone or something and the fat one had his arms crossed and was staring.

"So, you gonna get going to what?"

Blinking at the fat one - Uber? - I frowned and reached up to pull down my mask so I could talk properly. "And what makes you think I'd do that?"

He snorted, "You're a rogue, you aren't supposed to get involved with us. So get." He actually made a shooing gesture and something got tweaked in me.

I smiled and glanced around the alleyway for a moment before spotting a manhole cover beside them. Perfect. I focused on the familiar mental image of dense scales and powerful musculature for a moment before looking back to Uber. "You know something? Puppy doesn't like thieves, and neither do I. So what I think you should do is put whatever you took back in the truck and leave. Now."

Looking at me askance at the non sequitur he bumped Leggy - who I was assuming was leet - and gestured to me. "Can you explain things to her for me? You were a rogue once, you know what's up."

Looking at him then me, he frowned and as he opened his mouth the manhole cover shifted and slid out of the way to allow a thick length of scales and muscle to squeeze its way out of the manhole and slither into the side street. All fifty seven feet of him.

Undulating and looking curiously around at his new environment, Puppy was distracted by all the new sights and sounds he was suddenly exposed to until I gave mentally nudged him into coiling up and raising his pudgy head to look down on the gaming themed villains that were barely one fiftieth his size. His long tongue came out to taste the air and that was all the encouragement they needed to comply. A few trips back and forth with bags of cash and soon enough they were rumbling up next to me in a large, limo themed, purple go-cart.

Leet gestured to me to lean down, and acquiescing I listened as he warned me - rather politely - about doing things like this before he and his partner took off in a noxious cloud of burning rubber. Not shortly after the doors to the armored car opened and a wary young man in a grey uniform stepped out, his hand on his holster as he eyed me and the members of my menagerie. Although his gaze drifted back to Puppy every few seconds.

"It's ok, he doesn't bite," I told him with a smile, and giving the Titanoboa a mental nudge I reached out to stroke his massive head. It didn't really seem to re-assure the man too much and his hand stayed on his holder. Although an older man came out of the drivers side of the truck and approached close enough to give Puppy a few pets.

Seeing him actually interested in the big snake I dug into my riding jacket - repurposed and stylized motorcycle gear - and gave him a few vouchers. "Those should be good through the next month," I told him and as he looked them over I pushed my sleeve back to check my watched. Six forty eight, damn, definitely getting behind schedule. "Um… you don't mind if I leave do you?"

Glancing back to his younger partner - who had taken to just staring at Puppy - he shrugged and said it was fine but warned me that the police would probably want to talk.

"Just tell them it was Menagerie and they'll know where to find me."

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Oneshot.