Oneshots with the Trio (and others)

Mythical [Part 1]

Vincent looked at himself in the mirror, two wings spread out behind him. He sighed and folded them back. Why were they always so ugly? His brother had black, feathery wings, speckled with the occasional white one, and had an iridescent shine like no other. His mother had two elegant, leathery wings, the purple membrane between each indigo 'finger' so thin that light shone through like coloured glass. In fact, his entire family had been blessed with beautiful wings.

All except for him.

He had a pair of incredibly large wings, each almost as big as he was tall, which meant he was often made fun of when they inevitably managed to knock over something. To call them black would be an understatement, they were the purest form of complete darkness, and it almost seemed as though they absorbed light itself. To top it all off, they were made of thick, rough leather, and a hooked claw at the thumb, so unlike the silky touch of feathers that he wished he had.

The only good thing about them was that they didn't moult.

Still, he was nervous about them. His friends had offered him a room in America, and he was getting quite a bit of pressure for him to leave the nest from his family. But, moving in with them would mean that eventually, he would reveal his little secret to them, whether on purpose or not. And seeing as Mythics were not too well known... the responses could be varied.

Yet he had accepted the room (with much rejoicing from his parents), and now he had to bear the consequences. So, he just took a deep breath and focused, letting his wings disappear both from sight and the physical plane (a skill which came in handy to many hybrids out there), and got ready for the drive to the airport.

~~~

The first thing Vincent noticed as he stepped out of the airport doors was a loud shout on his left. The voice was all too familiar. He turned to see Zak, clad in a bright blue hoodie waving wildly at him. Next to him, a much taller man stood awkwardly, offering him a small wave. Vincent rushed over to greet them and was immediately pulled into a hug by the shorter of the two. Darryl hung back for a second before somewhat reluctantly joining in too.

"Hey, how are you guys doing?" the Frenchman began, as they broke away from the embrace and stood around in the frosty morning air.

"I've been alright, Zak arrived yesterday so he's already set up, how about you?"

"Yeah, I'm alright, managed to nap on the plane so my schedule's a bit less... chaotic"

"Hmmm," Darryl sighed, a little annoyed at the fact he still hadn't fixed his sleep schedule. "As long as you're not too tired..."

"I'm fine!"

"Hey Vincent, did you bring any baguettes?" Zak piped up, eliciting the deadpan response he wanted. Darryl, on the other hand instantly perked up.

"Oooh, yeah, that'd be so cool. I bet you have like, three in your suitcase." Vincent glared at Zak before continuing to ignore everything Darryl had just said. "How long's the drive?"

"It's a little bit of a drive, I moved out into the country not too long ago."

"Ok." Although the Frenchman hid it, he was secretly glad, the countryside was perfect for him to get out and stretch his wings every once in a while. It could get so tiring concealing them, and besides, what would life be without flying?

"Car's this way," Zak motioned for him to follow, grabbing one of his bags and dragging it across the carpark. Darryl shrugged and fished his keys out of his pockets, following after him. Vincent took a moment to compose himself, making sure his wings would be vanished a little while longer. "It's gonna rain soon, hurry up!" With a small smile, he trailed after them.

~~~

The car ride to Darryl's house was filled with chatter from both Zak and Darryl in the front seats, with Vincent staying mostly quiet in the back, occasionally expanding on a topic. They lapsed into an awkward silence around the thirty-minute mark, the two having run out of questions to ask. The Frenchman asked a few of his own, which they gladly answered. It had been around forty minutes when they finally arrived at the house.

It was a two-story building surrounded on all sides by a forest, the trees casting a green, dappled light over the small area of land, surrounded by a thin fence. Compared to the unruly wilderness beside it, the small patch of lawn seemed insignificant, a tame land whose counterpart ran wild and free. Vincent breathed in the petrichor and sighed happily. He knew which side of the fence he belonged to.

He knew which side would let him soar.