A/N: Alright, so this is a wingtalia AU following the general rules of Maximum Ride for birdkids, except for a few minor changes I made (ex. preening being a thing- it's a social activity, it's necessary, it's the bird equivalent of playing with someone's hair. It could be a major source of fluff if you let it). Anyway, in this AU, the states weren't all found right away, and for reasons to be revealed in later chapters, not even Alfred knows about them. Also all personifications have wings because they aren't human in the first place, so why do they have to look it? I know it sounds like an incomprehensible mishmash, but it's going to all fit together in the end, just give it a chance.
The states' wing colors are based on their state birds, btw. That's why there are duplicates, apparently northern cardinals are really common in this region as a whole. This fic is generally centered on the five states in the old Northwest Territory, but more will definitely appear later. You can very clearly see where I stopped caring halfway through the states' physical descriptions, and for that I apologize.
Wisconsin yanked back his dark brown-gray wings and dove, hurtling towards the water. He unfurled his wings at the last second, catching the air with a loud snap and coasting the rest of the way.
He folded up his wings, pulling them through the long slits in the back of his shirt to press tightly into the slight indent on his back. It wasn't completely unnoticeable, but hey, it didn't have to be. The only people he ever had any intention of seeing were the other members of his flock, and that's it.
It's not that there weren't any other people like them. He knew there were. There had to be.
But staying with them was a bad choice. Wisconsin had heard the story a thousand times. All states were controlled by their governments. The human politicians were evil, corrupt, even violent. Officials robbed the people blind. Electors sold their votes. Presidents arranged unjust wars when peace was an option. Bipartisanship was so extreme that Indiana's statehouse devolved into a fight that lasted four hours, with Democrats and Republicans threatening to kill each other.
Ohio and Indiana crept out of their respective log cabins one night, taking a sleeping Wisconsin with them. Duty be damned. They were states, they could do what they needed to do without being babysat by greedy politicians who didn't actually care about their wellbeing.
The Mexican-American War left a bad taste in their mouths. They weren't the only ones who had a problem with it. The tensions between North and South were getting stronger every day. If they were ever going to leave, that was the perfect time to do it.
Besides, it's not like anyone would notice they were gone. There were very few people who knew about them, and those who did knew better than to broadcast it. The states had not quite outgrown the colonial era of border "disputes" and grudge wars. The only way one found out about their existence was by meeting them in person. With young states, the governors had an advantage: no one knew how long it would take to find them. That ambiguity would be their safeguard until they were old enough to defend themselves.
But the little states hadn't been idiots. If they existed, then others must too. Indiana and Ohio found each other all on their own, and also discovered little Wisconsin. As far as they knew, the number of people who knew about their disappearance- who knew about them- could be counted on one hand. They would all think it was just one singular state gone, and would never dare tell anyone else about it.
On the presumption that not all the states have been found or come forward, no one ever talks about them between governments. They are always an internal top secret, their numbers a complete mystery. No one would admit to having found their state- personifications are a weak link and too easy a target. Being the governor who not only exposed them but lost them would ruin their careers. Besides, it may not happen soon, but they would be found again eventually.
That was in 1848.
Not that they gloat about it or anything. But 168 years is pretty impressive.
The sound of leaves and pine needles crunching underfoot began to mix with voices in the distance. Wisconsin rolled his eyes as they became distinct.
"We do not need to take the basketball," Illinois folded her arms.
"What?! Why? We're taking the baseball bat!" Indiana protested.
"That's different! That comes in handy; it's a need," she said. "We need to pack as light as possible. Face it, there is no room in any of our bags for a stupid baske-"
An orange ball whirled and hit her in the nose, making her stumble back a few steps. Indiana smirked, "See, the basketball is useful. It can make you shut up in under a second."
Illinois paused for a second, outraged, before launching herself at Indiana. She swung a fist that connected with his nose- restoring balance to the universe, in her eyes. He kicked at her legs, knocking her down. She used the vantage point to land a kick to his stomach, sending him backwards with an oof! He knocked into Michigan, sending a heavy bag flying from her hands and into Ohio.
By the time Wisconsin approached their tree, the whole flock was in a brawl. He wasn't really surprised. Tensions always ran high this time of year.
"Don't know if you guys care, but I got the food and iodine. We can leave as soon as everything is packed."
The others instantly froze. "Really?" Ohio asked.
He didn't respond.
"Everything we need is already in the bags," Indiana said quietly.
Ohio nodded. "Guess it's time to go then. I'll fly center." For once, there was no debate.
Michigan spared one last look at the tree that had been their home for the past eight months. It was the largest, strongest one on the small island, and now its bright fall colors signalled that it was time to leave.
They never returned to the same place twice. A shame. This home had been truly beautiful.
Five pairs of wings pushed hard against the air. They broke through the treeline and caught a thermal, soaring upwards until they were silhouettes thousands of feet in the air.
They rapidly put miles between them and Lake Erie. The flight south was always a somber affair. Personifications always felt better in their own land. It was a constant natural high that always hovered in the back of their minds. It was refreshing, joyful. If they couldn't be in their state, then the next best thing was to stay as close to home as possible.
Ohio powered forward silently, straining the muscles in his wings. Flying was always a workout, but whoever flew center had the hardest work, and may as well be flying solo. The rest of the flock rode the slipstream of whoever was ahead of them, staying in a V formation to make things easier.
Still, taking the lead was a coveted position they usually fought over.
As the bird flies, they could reach the Gulf of Mexico in thirteen hours. Hypothetically. If they kept a constant speed and flew continuously. But it wouldn't be reasonable to try to run for thirteen hours straight, and running is a breeze compared to flying. The constant exercise of flying keeps them fit, but they aren't insane.
"Hey hey hey. Isn't that the Ohio River?" Michigan asked. "This is a good place to break. It's a landmark, and we've been going for... three hours now."
"Three and a half," Illinois corrected.
"Yeah, I'm beat. Let's call it quits for today," Indiana said, kicking his legs up and swooping into a dive. The rest of the flock followed suit, shooting down like feathery bullets of red and brown.
They tumbled onto the forested bank, too exhausted to be graceful. They flopped down in the grass with their wings spread, trying to cool off and catch their breath. After a few minutes, they sat up in a circle and set to work preening.
Wings have to be kept clean somehow. After a long flight especially, feathers will be dirty and in disarray. They can't exactly go to a store and buy bulk feather shampoo, but thankfully birds produce their own preen oil that even makes wings waterproof.
"Ugh. You suck, Illinois. Your wings are too pretty," Michigan said, shaking her head. She was the one sitting behind Illinois in the circle, stroking her wings and smoothing out feathers.
Illinois snorted. "Thanks, I guess."
Illinois, Ohio, and Indiana all had wings whose coloring bore a stark resemblance to a cardinal's. They wings were thirteen feet across and a dazzling red. They had duller auburn areas and a dark edge on the tips. Wisconsin and Michigan had the coloring of robins: an earthy brown-gray with black and white highlights. When it came to shape, however, all their wings were more similar to that of a hawk, allowing them to fly with extreme precision and grace.
Illinois's bright green eyes had bags under them that had been there every day as long as they had known her. She was tall and leanly muscled. She had coffee colored hair chopped short within an inch of its life, though a bit longer on top. She saw no point in trying to keep it long and battle the constant wind while flying.
Indiana had mousy, dirty blond hair, a stick-straight nose, and pale green eyes. He had a generally average body type and a bit of a farmer's tan, along with a dusting of nearly imperceptible freckles.
Ohio was almost startlingly blond, and kept his hair long enough to pull into two cornsilk-colored French braids. He occasionally changed it up and did a different style of braid, but most often it was that. He had a strong jaw and hazel eyes approximately the same shade as the polluted green-brown waters of Lake Erie.
Michigan was short and muscle-bound. Her thick blonde hair was in a pixie cut and bangs that swooped just below her eyebrows. She had lively light blue eyes and callused hands with fingernails cut to the quick.
Wisconsin was a bit taller than average. He had wavy brunette hair that fell just above his shoulders and appeared auburn when it caught the light. He was almost always wearing a plaid shirt and smelled vaguely of cheese.
After they finished preening each other, their moods were all lifted and the states found a sturdy tree to climb up in, hunkering down on a branch to sleep and draping their large wings over themselves as blankets.
