Feathers

by Erisian

It had been a bad fight that night almost a year ago, the worst we'd ever had. The wings had appeared on our backs that morning - everyone got them, and it hadn't taken long for the significance of the colors to be understood.

If you had been morally good, your wings were white. If bad, they were stained with black. News video of prisons demonstrated that sharply: almost all inmates and too many of the guards had wings smeared and splotched as if with black tar. Most people had a blend of white and grey - some of the patterns were actually rather pretty. You could even glide with them if they were big enough and you were in moderately good shape, and children started figuring out how to actually fly - though there seemed to be an upper limit to how high up they could get. About ten feet or so seemed to be the limit. Physicists and biologists were utterly baffled, of course. Chemists were having a field day in tremendous excitement analyzing the composition of the feathers - but that's another story.

This is about us. Me and my wife. My wings were no better nor worse than most folks; though I could see a few splotches of darker grey mixed in. My wife, Sarah, hers were brighter than mine - except for a couple feathers that appeared rather splattered with black ink.

When Phillip had got home and explained to his wife what had just happened. She had just rolled her eyes and carried on getting ready for a girls dinner she had planned. Phillip had a brief conversation with his agency and they simply repeated what Stephan had outlined at the meeting. Phillip had spent his time over the next few days mentally preparing himself for just how silly he would look presenting Loose Women, and Ruth’s teleshopping shows on QVQ as a presenter who was used to being on much larger shows.

Phillip Scoff strolled down ITB’s studios, briefly smiling at one of the members of the crew who rushed by him. He had given decades of his career in entertainment to the tv broadcaster, capturing the attention of millions of Britain’s daytime tv watchers on This Morning. Himself and his much adored co-presenter Holly Wibbly, had won the show endless awards.

My relationship with my auntie we where always close and loved each other she treated me like her son but when she met sissy things changed from that first weekend, it was kinda like love at first sight all over again but would definitely be going down a different path.

CHAPTER 15
That was when I nearly broke, but I had a long chat with myself. Stupid bloody thing to say, really, but while my thoughts were screaming and painful, there was a little voice underneath the agony whispering words of… What? Not solace; not comfort. Just words of sense and sentiment.

Carolyn had loved me, at least as much as I still loved her, and I had absolutely no doubts on that score. She was gone, and I took what solace, what comfort I could, in the fact that it had been so quick. To be honest, there was nothing better I could find to lift me from my bed, but in the end it was all I had, and it was enough.

The ongoing trials and tribulations of Ronin Kassius as he assumes the identity of Isabel val Sanreal and returns to Ar Telica City. Having survived the encounter with the Gun Queen of Ar Telica, Ronin returns to Ar Telica and begins his/her new dual life as Isabel val Sanreal, illegitimate daughter of the uber rich Sanreal Family, and as the Gun Princess, Mirai, an artificially created entity with preternatural abilities.

By the time Stella comes to visit again, the changes are pretty much complete. Daddy, Stella and Quindy go out shopping, and Daddy buys Stella a couple of things too, although the trip is mostly to get new underwear and a new swimsuit for Quindy, and some new pants, too.

Thomas Rider parked his car in the driveway and approached the front door. He straightened his collar before ringing the doorbell. After a moment, a tall, older gentleman opened the door. He was dressed in a formal suit. Given the size of the home, he gave off butler vibes.

“May I help you?” the butler said.

“If it was just Mom, maybe. But Dad . . . you know, he’s got the whole Christian thing going. Church every Sunday, Bible study. The full catastrophe.”