"Ey, Boss. We gots the girl, see?"

"The girl... oh. You managed to get her?"

"Yep. I know your 'on sight' orders and all, but girl and her companions're probably unkillable. Hijacked her after the poisoning, see?"

... the Blackbird Syndicate Boss, Talon, slowly looks to the small TV. A TV currently being held by Scare - his pet crow and reliable bird butler - and a TV currently tuned to the news channel immediately reporting an incident at Niagara Straws. Utter carnage at the scene there, occurring quite a while ago, with news reporters and officers on the scene.

His eyes squinted at this sight, tensely glaring at the sight, watching as - apparently - direct phone camera footage of a gangster being punched into the sky has been discovered. However, due to the quality of the phone, the person sending this bartender is completely obscured and blanked out. Thus, the reporters are citing this as a fabrication meant to garner attention...

Talon knows better, however. The silhouette is recognizable to him as the same shape of the person spotted at each site, each location the gangsters got arrested... that footage is legitimate.

It's her.

... on the bright side, Talon seems relieved that not a soul seems to be present... that, by some miracle, the only person that the police apprehended this time is some drunkard in a stained, expensive suit. "I see, I see. Good work, BB. The Big Bad Boys owes you quite a lot."

"Thank ya kindly, Boss! And might I say, we're getting a lil' bit lucky. Roads are a little bit more free coming from the hospital, but we might encounter traffic. Plan's to take her to the warehouse, see, and-"

"Wait."

"...? Y...Yeah? What's up, Boss?"

Hospital.

"... nothing. Keep up the good work. Talk to you soon," Talon calmly tells BB, a look of realization plastered over his face. Wide-eyed and in utter shock, his voice not conveying a single ounce of his distress.

"Thank ya, Boss."

BB hangs up, and Talon just slowly lowers the phone. Absolutely riddled with tension, absolutely panicked.

... hospital.

"... Scare. Put the TV down on the desk. Get me the remote," he tells the crow.

A subtle caw in response, before the bird does so. Lowering the TV down in the center of the table, giving Talon ample view of its screen... a remote dropped down into the man's hand.

Quickly, Talon switches the channel, surveying the media for anything breaking, anything immediately happening, any sort of breaking news, any station that has reporters directly on the scene of the Starveil Hospital. "Come on... come on..."

And there it is... the sight of the hospital, covered in an aerial view. Utter carnage and chaos in its front with a crashed ambulance and a dead body, and severe property damage to the ground and eight floors.

Conveniently... with Talon's knowledge of the hospital, with his information on which room his sister is in, which room and floor his nephew would have been, all of this information crosses his mind. All of this information makes him expect the very worst in that moment. A gaze of horror and fear on his face, utter terror and concern building on his face. At the realization that, unknowingly, these gangsters have attacked the same floor that his family is on.

What man would not feel distress in this situation? Knowing that, in some way, no matter how indirect, his actions have brought harm to those he cares about, those he cannot afford to be shown caring about. Even with obscuring and hiding their identities, they're still potentially hurt by his own men.

The breaking footage has yet to show Jocelyn or Joseph (Odette). It has yet to confirm if they're hurt or not. But... but...

"..."

A violent aura of black emanates from his body, his sharp eyes glaring forward and piercing through the door in front of him. His teeth clenched and gritted as if they were about to shatter and break at any moment. His hair spontaneously unkempt and ruffled as he slouches forward...

And in fitting fashion, in the seclusion of his office, with not a soul but him and his crow to behold, he raises his hand in the air. His arm fidgeting from side to side, the man gripping his fingers into a fist, and...

"... GOD-!"

Throwing his hand down, slamming it hard against the table, unleashing all of his rage on it as everything on the desk flies in the air. As the cups, the papers, the phone, even all of the bits of jewelry. All of it ascending into the air.

Talon's eyes lock onto the screen, staring at that hospital with pure unadulterated anger. Mouth gaping wide, unholy exclamations about to erupt from his throat. A crazed, violent, enraged look of utter bloodcurdling fury, wanting to exclaim all the frustrations he could. All the frustrations built up as he loudly shouts, in that room:

"... damn it..." he later mumbles quietly... currently in an unmarked black van alongside his underlings, currently being driven to the warehouse.

Staring at all the chaos that transpired in this area, witnessing all of the gangsters collapsed or defeated. The one thing keeping him calm: a wine glass of vegetable juice in his hand, its tangy and nutritious taste competing with the foulness going down his throat. His upper lip covered in red, looking out the car and through the entrance of the warehouse at his nephew inside.

Talon watches closely as Joseph stood near a tied up gangster on a stool, hair completely and utterly messy from the brawl that transpired. The very fact that Joseph found this very location through the subtle clues given over the phone... all intentions of brawling and fighting conveyed in that call. Talon now has conclusive, visible proof that Joseph will not stop until BB - leader of the "Big Bad Boys", if memory serves him well - is brought down.

It is as simple as taking out BB, in truth. Talon, in truth, has no problem with handling BB himself... fueled with the same anger as his boy. With his power, taking down a lesser syndicate branch is no issue whatsoever for Talon, even if the syndicate is becoming extremely shorthanded. Had Odette left the matter alone, not a soul would ever even say the name BB again.

But... Joseph asking for this information, asking for the direct location of these gangsters, taking it into his own hands? Talon hides his smile at this thought, hiding his subtle delight from the men around him.

He's always known that Joseph is a sharp kid... the boy has the Hawthorne spirit in him. A free spirit, a free bird. This moment where he witnesses his own flesh and blood standing up for himself should be the proudest moment of his life, seeing his timid and meek lil' kid overpower his enemies and triumph over them. Even if he is making an enemy of the Syndicate... even if he is family that is going against family, watching Joseph triumph over these people is... it's heartwarming.

Shows his ferocity. Shows his guts. Shows his bravery. His ever developing intelligence in picking up secret code language. Talon should be proud of this.

... but something felt off.

Right before his eyes... Talon sees his nephew only mildly roughed up. Given the recount of events at the hospital, Talon expected worse... but saw none of the scratches, none of the stitches, none of it is present on him. No signs of BB's attack whatsoever, not on his body or his clothes. There certainly wasn't time for him to get a change of clothes, let alone heal...

Could it be a lie? Well... Joseph is a good actor, yes. Played up his terror in that moment, played up his scaredness. His cowardice. All for maintaining cover on a public line. The boy is easily scared, sure, and becomes scared of countless scary things. But going so far as to fake being scared, fake his terror at being... cut up? To lie to him about the exploded glass in his body?

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

No.

No, that can't be it. Joseph would not lie about something like that. He's always been the type of honest to only lie about the really important things. There's no point to Joseph exaggerating that he experienced pain. That he was hurt. No. He wouldn't. He didn't.

Talon... Talon squints his eyes, deducing the possibility that this isn't his boy, that this isn't his nephew. In some way, shape or form, this isn't Joseph. Deep in thought about how this could be, what reason he has to assume that this isn't his nephew...

... eventually, Talon figures out a why as to why it wouldn't be. Joseph mentioned the girl, the girl that's been taken away. The girl that's been the Syndicate's worst enemy as of this weekend, and... and Joseph is going against him, conveniently, at this threat. He has to be doing this because of the girl, for one reason or another.

When he first thought about this, the reports of what happened at Niagara Straws run fresh in his mind. Five individuals that attacked the bar. Five people that are on shoot to kill terms. Most of them - rather, maybe, all of them - equipped with superpowers.

That begged the question... has Joseph been hanging out with a bad crowd? Is he interacting with these individuals of interest, these people that hold powers like he does? Is this someone who, through some miracle, managed to take Joseph's face...?

"Sir... what are your orders? How do we take care of this?"

"..." Talon takes a gentle sip of his vegetable juice, needing more of the fresh taste of tomatoes on his tongue. A drink with a sweet and tangy texture, far better and far healthier than any alcohol. A drink perfectly fit for a professional. A drink of luxury and comfort that gives him solace in this most miserable of moments.

His hand shaky with the wine glass of juice in it... sitting in a long and lengthy pause of silence, before he gives his answer. Shaking his head slightly, his slow and melodious voice speaking with a tone demanding reverence.

"The man in that warehouse is... a person of interest. You are not to shoot him, under any cost. You are merely backup if there are any other individuals present beyond him. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. We understand," the gangster speaks up. The gangsters pocketing their guns as the van is parked... leaving the vehicle as one, with the door helped open for Talon. Giving him a fresh smell of the pine forest scent. A sorrowful gaze on his eyes as he steps out of the van, as he holds his glass out...

... Scare taking a moment to top off his drink with more vegetable juice.

"..." Thanking his crow butler as he smiles delicately, walking into the warehouse with a cold gaze. Lost in thought about how to address his "nephew's" dissent. How to handle his own family. Struggling to figure out what to do the moment his foot crosses that entryway, the very moment he is expected to address his nephew.

So... the gangsters step into the warehouse, staring down the pink haired man. Cautiously staring at him, watching as he stands right behind the tied up gangster in the stool.

"... t-thank goodness!" the hand-tied gangster shouts, his eyes wide. "R-Reinforcements! S-See, this guy and-"

Promptly, "Joseph"... slaps the gangster's mouth, forcefully covering it and glaring forward. Staring at the gangsters before him with a tense look on his face.

"..." Talon begins to walk forward, glaring at his... nephew. Glaring at this person, curious about his reaction. The other gangsters watching as he approaches, as he walks closer.

"S-Stay back!" the boy exclaims, shouting. "D-Don't come any closer...!" Overly cautious and glaring at the man, glaring at this approaching gangster with a look of caution.

This is what confirms to Talon...

... that this isn't Joseph.

Talon has an utterly hostile look on his face, knowing for certain that this is a blatant impostor. Taking a long drink of his juice, gulping the contents of his glass down...

"... why?" Talon asks, staring at this blatant impostor. His hand holding empty cup with only small drops of red left, run out of juice and patience for this man...

"B-Because i-if you come any closer, I'll-!" the fake Joseph exclaims...

... interrupted by the sight of Talon lunging forward, his hand pulled back and swiping his hand over the gangster's face. Smashing the glass straight into the gangster's face, breaking it to shards of glass.

"Wh-?! A-AGH-!" the gangster noises, bewildered by this painful action- screaming loudly at this sudden, sharp pain- before an even worse one occurs.

After venting this part of his anger, Talon digs his fingernails into the gangster's cheek, piercing into skin to get a good grip of this underling's face. Glaring violently down, watching this obstacle in between him and the impostor.

A show of intimidation, demonstrating that this gangster is of no value to Talon whatsoever... as the man yanks his hand back. Leaving deep gashes in the gangster's face, coldly staring at Joseph...

"... why?!" Talon loudly screams at this impostor, his voice shouting at the impostor playing Joseph, the impostor playing Odette. "WHY DO YOU HAVE HIS FACE?!"

... Quade- the currently shapeshifted Quade watches as this happens, backing away from the gangster. Slowly taking steps away from this man, listening to that exclamation, understanding the meaning of those words. "His face..."

... his face. His.

"... T-Talon-!" Quade exclaims in shock, realizing his cover is completely blown.

"DO NOT SPEAK WITH HIS VOICE!" Talon loudly screeches, kicking the tied up gangster's body over onto its side, knocking the stool over and stepping over this mere obstacle. Each step forward closing the distance between him and this utter sham. "ANSWER ME! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! GIVE ME A NAME!"

Quade continues to back away, gritting his teeth at this. This is the boss, the syndicate boss... "I-It's me! I-It's me, Uncle-! I- I'm-!" he exclaims in Odette fashion, attempting to continue this act.

But it doesn't work. Talon sees right through it as he promptly lunges forward, grabbing Quade by the throat. Gripping his fingers around the man's throat, his fingernails digging into the man's skin now. Having demonstrated the capabilities of his fingernails, his claws, his... talons... Talon lifts him into the air and stares up at this impostor. Quade's feet five inches off of the ground, with just one of Talon's hands strangling and choking him.

A blood curdling rage on the crime boss's face, a growl and a hiss in his voice as he addresses Quade, as he addresses this utter fake. "I know you are not Joseph...! I know you're a pathetic LIAR. A wolf in his sheep's clothing..."

Quade- Quade gasps hard as his throat is gripped. Struggling helplessly in Talon's grasp, wincing in pain at this tight grip.

"What have you done to him... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!?" Talon shouts, his fingers squeezing tighter and tighter, cutting Quade's airflow off completely. A tight grip that forces his throat closed, unable to breathe a single ounce of air... "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! TELL ME, OR-!"

"Ghhhk-!"

Promptly, Quade tilts his head back, teeth tightly clenched in agony. Focusing his energy into his mouth- before, horrifically, a gorilla arm throws itself out of his neck. An appendage formed via shapeshifting, its full mass and might shot out and launched forward to throw its fist at Talon's face.

"?!" Talon's eyes widen at this sight, watching this burly arm come out of the man's body. Its knuckles achieving contact with his forehead, the weight and force of the punch pushing his own head back.

Instinctively, his hand lets go of Quade's throat...

... and he defensively jumps back, staring him down. A wide distance between them, with further space surrounding the two.

"What the hell are you...?!"

"..." Quade, as the gorilla arm retracts back into his body, looks up at his hat atop his head. A hand grabbing the brim of it and taking it off. Tossing it into the air, throwing it up as it turns and spins upward.

The backup gangsters watch as this hat flies up, as this black cap with a red brim ascends high into the air...

"... shapeshifter..." Talon mumbles... watching the entire process, instead of watching the hat.

The cap then falls back down, landing atop the man's head. His figure back to its normal appearance. His brown hair, his brown eyes, his black tank-top and red jeans... no longer Odette.

One of the gangsters raises his gun, taking aim at Quade... only to lower it back down. Realizing none of the other gangsters are even drawing their guns, remembering that Talon instructed them not to shoot whatsoever. They could only stand aside and watch...

... watch, as Talon stares forward, as Talon deeply stares at Quade. For the briefest of seconds, Talon felt relief that it isn't a worse fate.

Then, tensely, he glares forward at the implications of this man calling him... Uncle, a moment ago. Now that Quade's revealed himself, Talon has ample time to think about how much this shapeshifter knows... and states, appropriately. "... so. You know who I am."

"... right," Quade adjusts his cap slightly, looking at Talon. "I do now."

"I see." Talon calmly stares forward, an intense look on his face at this answer. "And are you with the flying brown haired girl?"

"... I am," Quade tells the man, gripping his hands into fists. "I've come to take her back... but she's not here."

Talon slowly looks around, seeing no sign of the brown haired girl. "... I see. She isn't... yet. But you are, and I am." Before staring back at Quade and cracking his knuckles. Arms at his sides, hands held with fingernail claws out. "... so. Are you ready for what I am about to do to you?"

"... yes," Quade answers, getting into battle stance as well. Ready to fight... ready to fight for his life. "I'm ready."

"... good." Talon takes a deep breath, a calm and composed look on his face, preparing himself for the brutal bloodbath that is to transpire. Ready to fight this bastard, ready to make it so this shapeshifter will never look human ever again.

Quade continues to lock his gaze on Talon, idly noting the fact that none of the other gangsters are shooting, that none of them are opening fire. It appears that Talon is aiming for a fair and just fight, coming into it with nothing but his bare hands. His sharply clawed, powerfully strong hands.

Both of them ready to fight like men. Ready to brawl like men. Ready to settle this matter one on one, in a spacious warehouse battleground.

"..."

"..."

Then, Talon steps forward, and Quade steps forward. Both taking their first steps towards each other...

... and they sprint.

Quade breaks into a dash, running straight towards the Syndicate Leader, closing the distance between them in a bold charge. The shadow of his hat's brim coats his sharp gaze, the man running forward with not a sign of fear, determination burning in his body. Unable to back down, unwilling to leave. The objective is clear to Quade, and the target is right before him. All that's left to do is to take him down, keeping a strong and modest composure.

Meanwhile, Talon gritting his teeth and dropping all calmness, a maniacal stare in his eyes as he runs forward, as he seemingly flies and rushes forward. An agile sprint at Quade, his arms lightly spread behind him- the rush of air against his arms as a dark, emanating aura surrounds his body. Embodying the spirit of the Blackbirds, the name of the Hawthornes, tapping into his raw and primal instinct as he charges at Quade... mouth open, and loudly screeching out his battle cry... a loud, and resounding:

"CAAAAAAAAAAW!"