Can't Save Them All

The First Hybrid

Phil adjusts his jacket as he steels his nerves for what was about to happen. This was not the first time he has been to one of these events, but it is his first time at this specific location. It never gets easier. He walks through the shop and tips his green and white bucket hat to the cashier. The man rushes Phil to the back where a fake shelf reveals an elevator. Phil is then left alone as he awaits its arrival. His wings strain under the jacket and he just pulls it tighter. They can't know that he is also one of them, a hybrid.

The elevator arrives quickly and he slips in, pressing the only other button. He adjusts his face mask carefully in the mirror, a quick glance ensures his contacts are still changing his eye color. His identity had to remain a secret to protect himself. It took a while to worm his way into this event. It's a very small circle that doesn't trust many outsiders. Phil has never backed away from a challenge. After months of parties, perfect interactions, and a dash of luck, he was invited to this secret place. All that effort doesn't make him any less comfortable with the situation.

The elevator doors open and Phil steps into the small hallway. There he produced the invitation and was allowed entry into the main room without hesitation. They all recognize his bucket hat and jacket at this point, he considers it his brand. Well, his brand when sneaking into illegal operations.

And illegal this was. Upon entry, he was handed a booklet of goods and an auction paddle before being left to his own devices. Phil rolls his shoulders before walking around the chairs to the front of the room. Where the "goods" were being held. Cages were lined up, each holding its own figure, chained to the ground. Each holding a different hybrid. Phil quickly schooled his expression into boredom. As he looked around, anger washed over him. He knew what he was walking into, what he had been told over and over again would happen if he was caught. Being here in person though, it... it was horrifying.

Kids and adults alike, in various stages of abuse, surrounded the stage. He begins on the left and works his way around. He knows he can only afford one, so he'll have to get the one in the worst condition. The one who needed his help the most. There were others in the room who were like him, wanting to rescue these poor hybrids. And there were those who wanted these hybrids for... entertainment purposes. Phil tries not to think on that subject.

"Ah Kisuke, our favorite cosplayer. Welcome! I'm glad you were able to make it to one of our events."

Phil turned towards the voice, the auction owner. He was dressed in a suit and seemed ready for this auction to end, for him to get a payday. As though these were truly goods on the stage and not people. Phil easily smiled back, slipping into the character he had built for these events.

"Thank you for having me. I have been on the lookout for a hybrid for a while, I hope you have one that will catch my eye."

"Well, we certainly have a few good looking ones out here. If you don't find one here, you'll have to come back next week, we never seem to run out." And with that he waltzes off to talk to the next customer.

Phil doesn't watch him go. Instead he turns to the next hybrid in line. An older goat hybrid. His spirit was already broken. He stood there, staring emptily into the space right above Phil's shoulder. As much as Phil wants to save all of them, he has to pick the worst one. And as much as he hates to see it, this one will be fine. He's not a rare hybrid and with his spirit broken, he'll survive.

Phil moves over to the second to last cage. A younger hybrid was forced into a kneeling position, chains holding him in place. He held his head down, brown curls blocking his face. Phil opened his pamphlet and flipped through until he landed on the hybrid's information page. 15. The kid was only 15. The youngest at this auction. The next piece of information caused Phil to look closer at the boy. Apparently he was a siren, a rare hybrid. Squinting at the boy he could barely see the pale lines of the gills on his neck. His eyes traveled up into the mess of curls to see... a... strap? There was a leather strap above the boy's ear. Before he could scrutinize the boy further, a figure slid up beside him.

"I had hoped you would have an eye for beauty, Kisuke." Phil watched as the boy tensed at the words, recognizing the voice of his current master. "He does have a nasty habit of trying to hide his face though. Want me to show you what's under the curls?"

Phil didn't really have a choice, so he gestured towards the boy. The auctioneer brought out a key ring and, upon finding the correct one, opened the door leading to the boy. The boy's breathing picked up as he heard the keys rattling, and Phil started to worry about driving the boy into a panic attack. Before Phil registered what was happening, the boy's owner sauntered up to him, grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his head up.

The kid was muzzled. Muzzled. That was the first thing Phil noticed. The second was the black eye the boy was sporting. It seemed to be only a day old. The boy glanced up and brown eyes stared back at his fake ones before looking at his feet again. The boy was released and he crumpled down to the ground, before forcing himself into the kneeling position again.

"A true beauty, isn't he. Too bad we have to keep him muzzled. I would love to hear his voice but you know how sirens can be," the man dismissed as he returned to the front of the cage, relocking the door. Phil was not paying much attention to the sales pitch, he was now categorizing all the bruises that he failed to notice before. The boy's breathing was still heightened but there wasn't much Phil could do to help with it.

"I appreciate you showing me, I do prefer to know what my new pets look like before I bid on them" he forced himself to say. Forced himself to play the part.

"Of course. The bidding will begin soon. I wish you luck Kisuke." And with that the owner left Phil alone with the boy. Phil forced himself to turn away from the shaking figure to look at the last form. Not finding him in a worse condition, Phil prepares himself for the bidding.