Hola senoritas/senors! This is the first chapter with actual Flock members in it. I encourage you to at least try each section even if you look where it takes place and automatically think omg she is such a nerd this is stupid.
/is a nerd
=3
Enjoy! (and review)
xxxxxx
MAX
Naruto
Somewhere in Wind country
"…and who's that girl?" was the first thing I heard when I woke up. Someone yelled it. They sounded angry. Very angry. I knew anger like that. Not pretty.
Eeergh. Pain. Ow.
My head pounded. What happened? Two seconds ago I'd been in Minas Tirith. What had been up with that? Boromir… alive… talking all modern-ish… Billy Mays and Michael Jackson, also very alive. I was getting the impression that I'd gone quite insane.
"Is she dead? You bastards!" continued the person. I cracked my eyes open.
"Eeergh. Pain. Ow," I moaned. Total, I don't think we're in Gondor anymore. Ah! Total! And then… Fang! Iggy! Nudge! Gazzy! Angel! I opened my eyes completely and looked around wildly. I couldn't see them. "Oh sh – Fang! Ig! Nudge! Gasser! Ange! Total!"
No reply. A sinking feeling clawed at my stomach. Crap. I sat bolt upright, which flip-flopped my stomach and sent all my blood rushing to my feet, and got a good handle on my surroundings. Big cave. Dark. Giant wonky statue.
"Arry? Gimli? Legolas? Gadalf? Boromir? Anyone?"
Two blonde dudes. One had funky whisker-like marks on his cheeks and the other was sitting on some other guy. Then there was a freaky guy in a cloak, and some dude with spiky silver hair. Next there was a chick with her hair dyed pink and an old lady.
Woooaaah. I did not recognize these people. What the heck was going on?
"What the heck is going on?" I voiced my thoughts appropriately. "Somebody better answer me or I'm gonna start busting heads!"
…unfortunately, death threats take some effort to sound actually death threaty, and said effort totally exhausted me. I felt weak and sick and tired, and I was seriously not liking it. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the fact that my vision was going all blurry and I was getting mega lightheaded.
"Oh, her?" sneered blonde-guy-sitting-on-other-guy. "She was here when we got here. Probably another jinchuuriki someone else drained and forgot to dump out."
"That's very far from a logical explanation, Deidara," said freaky cloak guy. Deidara (AKA blonde-guy-sitting-on-other-guy) scoffed.
"Gingerwhat?" I said. "Oh, and yes, thank you, I appreciate you talking about me like I'm not here. Seriously. I'm gonna crack your skulls against the wall."
Last time I landed myself in an unfamiliar (also fictional) world, I was open to being a little more considerate and not jumping immediately to the whole threats thing, but the Flock wasn't here, I was totally stressed out, and I felt ready to barf my guts up all over the floor, and also I had no clue what was going on at all, or where I was. I didn't recognize anyone here. None of the characters. Were they characters? Or was this something else?
Yo, Voice. Feel free to jump in any second with an explanation, I said.
You are about to pass out, said the Voice helpfully. Boy, I did feel like passing out. But wait! I didn't want to! I'm Maximum Ride! I can ignore that fact that I felt sicker than I'd ever felt in my life!
…too late.
FANG
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Sunnydale, California
When Fang woke up, he was caught between two branches in a tree and he felt very, very sick. In fact, the moment he regained consciousness he turned onto his side and vomited. The upchuck splashed grotesquely against the ground like a very ugly, smelly raindrop.
Oh, god, don't think that, you'll just want to barf more.
He jumped out of the tree and landed unsteadily on his feet. His head was pounding and he wanted to puke more. To keep his mind off of that, he thought: why are there so many words for barf? There's barf, upchuck, puke, vomit, yak, ralph… oh, look at me. I sound like Nudge.
Speaking of Nudge, where was she? He cast a wary glance around him and saw that not only was Nudge's steady stream of speech missing, but as were Max's orders, Iggy's blind jokes, Gazzy's flatulence…
The Flock wasn't there. He was completely alone. His breath caught and panicked thoughts started flying through his brain at a hundred miles per hour. Where were they? Were they hurt? Where was Max? Was she OK? Where were all the rest of those people, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, the hobbits? How had he been moved here from Gondor?
Get a grip, he told himself. Relax. Evaluate the situation.
It was dark. Night. The moon was high up in the sky, so probably around midnight. He squinted and let his night vision sharpen. He was in a… graveyard. How creepy. The tint of civilization was in the air and silently Fang thanked whoever was landing him these places. Modern civilization – not that weird medieval crap that was really starting to get on his nerves – that was a huge improvement. But being alone? Not so much.
There was a rustle in the bushes and Fang spun on his heel, fists raised. A man stepped out. He was dressed in a dirty suit and his hair was all mussed up. The thing that really caught Fang's attention, though, was the fact that his face was horribly disfigured and his eyes were yellow and catlike. New Itex spawn?
"You smell nice," said the man. "And oddly birdy. What is that?"
Then he lunged. Fang ducked out of the way, snapping his wings out and planting a foot in the man's – could he really call him a man? – ribs. The man went stumbling, but Fang had no time to be satisfied. He felt a powerful kick connect right between his wings and he was jolted forward like a ragdoll. He hit the ground on his knees and twisted his neck to see a girl behind him. She looked around nineteen with a tank top that exposed her belly button and her face similarly looked like it had been mauled by a bear.
"Wings!" she said. "Hey, Jack, this guy's got wings! What kind of demon has wings?"
Fang assumed that was an insult and leaped to his feet, punching the girl in the face as she chatted to 'Jack'.
"Ow!" she cried. "You hit me!"
And he kept on going, punching every inch of skin he could reach. Not much, as it turned out. The girl was a good fighter, and definitely stronger than a normal human. Stronger than him? Maybe, maybe not, but he was definitely better at combat.
Still, it was two on one.
Oh, wait, scratch that. Three on one. Another man joined in, too, this one wearing jeans and a floral print shirt. What kind of Itex minions were these guys? They sure had strange fashion sense.
Oh, great, Fang thought as a fourth joined in. Another girl. But… something was off about her. Her face wasn't all messed up and her eyes were a very humanlike shade of hazel. Also, she did not focus solely on killing him. The other three were her targets. And she made quick work of them, too, with only a little bit of help from Fang.
She held a stick – stake? – in her hands and used it to impale the various things in the chest. Once impaled, they then proceeded to explode into dust. Fang had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. Even Itex creations didn't do that.
What was going on? He suddenly wished he had a Voice, like Max, to hound for answers.
It took only around five minutes to kill all three of the things. Once they were done, the girl turned to Fang and fixed him with a glare that clearly said, I mean business, and I won't hesitate to kill you if you piss me off.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "Or, more importantly, what are you?"
IGGY AND ANGEL
Avatar: the Last Airbender
Somewhere in the Earth Kingdom
Iggy had it pretty bad. He was constantly hunted and half-starved, he'd been robbed of any chance of a normal life, and he'd had almost everything taken away from him at some point in his life, including, but not limited to, his freedom, his childhood, and his sight.
But he'd never been robbed of his eyes. The Flock were his eyes. But the Flock was nowhere to be seen – metaphorically, of course.
"Max?" he called. "Fang? Nudge? Gaz? Ange?"
He was met with silence.
Don't panic, warned half of his instincts, while the other half screamed, yes! Panic! You can panic! Now is a good time to panic!
But those were bad thoughts. He needed good thoughts – not in a happy-go-lucky way, but loud, stand-offish thoughts: something that a certain six – er, seven – year-old mind-reader would be able to pick out in a crowd.
Not that he was in a crowd. If he were in a crowd, he could ask for directions. Nope, judging from the leafy, grassy, ground with twigs that poked into his palms, he was in either a small field or a forest.
Anyways, back to the thoughts. He had to get creative. Something that Ange would be able to recognize as obviously him. A personal experience.
So here's the plan, he remembered. Er… something about zebras, and then everyone starts eating beef jerky and Gazzy farts into some bubbles. Oh yeah, and Fang should join a band and become a pro harmonica… ist… Look, Angel, just, can you hear me? This is a pain in the tush.
He waited and received no reply. A horrible thought occurred to him then. What if Angel wasn't there? What if he really was alone – and not just in the sense that nobody seemed to be in the immediate area? What if the Flock had ditched him? Or what if he'd ditched the Flock?
Angel! He thought, louder, more panicked. Yo! Earth to Angel!
Hi, Angel's intrusive message was loud and clear. That's the thing about placing thoughts in people's heads like that. Normally you don't think in sentences, right? Not unless you try. It's just all mushed together. Apparently mind-readers can pull a string of logic out of that mush. It's the same when they transmit thoughts. Or at least for Angel. Not like he'd met many mind readers in his fairly short life.
Thank god, Iggy thought. Is anyone else with you?
A pause. No… there's no one else.
What about in the surrounding area.
Another pause. There are a couple of people… not Flock, though. Nobody we know. Iggy, I think it's just us. I can't feel anyone else. There's no one in my range.
Angel was starting to panic, something strange nowadays. She seemed to be turning into a kind of mini-Max. An infinitely more creepy mini-Max.
Okay, okay, calm down, he thought nervously. He was freaked out, too, but he'd been left in charge before. And Angel was pretty low-maintenance. Once they figured this out, it would be all cool. Right? Look, I'll sit tight. Come find me.
Right, she replied.
NUDGE AND THE GASMAN
Harry Potter
The corner of a large, unknown field
"Nudge?"
The voice was hazy. She tried to recognize it, but came up completely blank.
"Nudge?"
Wait… there was something familiar. Like a little bell ringing somewhere in the very back of her head. She tried to think, but her head hurt too much. In fact, everything hurt too much. She fought back the urge to resort to projectile vomiting.
"Nudge! Snap out of it!"
Her eyes opened slowly. For a moment her vision was fuzzy, blurry. After a few seconds it cleared enough for her to get a grasp of the situation. She was sprawled on the leafy ground of a clearing in the middle of a forest. The ground was damp, and the wetness was seeping in through her clothes, causing her to shiver.
"Gazzy?" she croaked.
"Yeah, are you okay?" he looked worried.
The pain was slowly decreasing as the seconds passed and Nudge propped herself up on her elbows, wincing. "Yeah."
"What happened?" Gazzy asked, eyes wide.
"How should I know, I was out cold," Nudge pointed out, stretching her stiff back and snapping her spine back into place. "Any idea where we are? What happened? Where's everyone else? This is so messed up."
"I just asked you," Gazzy pointed out.
"Right, of course," Nudge heaved herself to her feet and stood on shaky legs, breathing in the clean air. "I can smell car exhaust. It's really faint, though."
"Me too," looking down at him, Nudge noticed for the first time how scared Gazzy looked. His eyes were widened to the size of saucers and they were darting around desperately. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Nudge was scared, too, but she knew she couldn't show it. If she showed she was scared, Gazzy would become even more so. This must be how Max feels, she thought. Max. We have to find Max.
She unfurled her wings. "Let's go find a – a town, or something. We can figure out where we are. What to do. Maybe get some food. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"Yeah," Gazzy nodded. He let go of her hand and hunched over, about to unfurl his wings, too, when they were interrupted by a loud noise. It sounded like a mix between a gunshot and a vacuum. Nudge screamed and yanked the Gasman backwards, squeezing her eyes shut. They fell back onto the ground with an oof. It didn't hurt much – their fall was cushioned by a thin layer of snow.
"That treacherous old bleeder!" someone was griping. "Hermione, you're a genius, a total genius, I can't believe we got out of that! Oh, bloody hell – who are they?"
When Nudge opened her eyes again, she saw three people staring at them, eyes huge. Two were boys – one had black hair and green eyes, and the other one was a ginger. The third was a slightly bushy-haired girl.
"Wings," the girl breathed. Her eyes went slightly unfocused, as if she was thinking something through. "Oh, my gosh. What has wings?"
