TommyLocks And The Three Villains

TLATTV

Tommy was an orphan.

Something he never wanted to admit.

To anyone.

Ever.

So much so that he somehow seemed to resort to crime.

He didn't know how he got to the point of standing inside their front entrance but he was here now so he might as well take advantage of it.

It's not like this tiny house belonged to the heroes- or any powerhouse villain team.

Tommy couldn't help being poor the same way the owners of this house apparently couldn't help leaving their food out on the table.

Tommy was an avian. A small one at that. His wings were tiny, even for a six year old, and they were messy too. His avian type was commonly compared to chickens and therefore, hunted often. Aside from that, meat made him sick. In this world of heroes and villains, protein was important.

So, here he was, walking cautiously towards this table, noticing three places were set. Each having their own meal. He was too tired to bother checking for meat as he glanced around to double check for signs of life and then promptly picked up a fork and shovelled the first dish into his mouth.

It burned.

Not the temperature.

No, this was definitely meat.

It burned down his throat and he knew he would have to deal with it later.

The burn made him think of dying cows and he shuttered.

Beef.

Gross.

He took his chances on the next dish which was pretty boring, just a salad. Nothing too fancy about it, although he did enjoy the carrots.

But no, he needed something better and he was out to find it.

The last dish looked good.

Another salad.

But not an average salad.

Tommy took a bite of this salad.

He tasted berries, seeds, fruits.

Any bird's heaven.

He finished the salad quickly, his first good meal in days, and rather than listening to his instincts and leaving, he looked for somewhere to sit and digest.

He saw three chairs.

He tested the first chair, melting into the pink fabric.

This chair didn't feel good. It didn't fit his wings very well and felt far too soft. Perhaps a chair for an average prey hybrid, but not a chair for an avian or anything else with wings.

He tried the next chair, he took a seat on an opalescent-ish cushion, and instantly knew the owner of this chair to be either tough or a hybrid who could phase through the chair.

Tommy felt as though it wasn't very comfortable and wouldn't be to any average creature.

So, at last, he tried the final chair, as he sat he noticed a black feather or two under the chair but didn't move them, just in case they meant something to it's owner.

Other than the feathers, he knew this chair belonged to a bird because of the shape. Even if he was too small for the chair he could tell that the huge slots in the back were moulded to fit someone's wings. The chair also worked if his wings were curled up though, because the back was extra velvety and smooth on his currently.

Tommy could have sat in that chair forever.

Until he yawned and his sleepy brain started to take over, searching for a bed against his better judgment.

He wandered up a short staircase and found three bedrooms. He tried the first room.

The bed in there reminded him of a burrow. If he wanted to sleep in dirt he could go outside. But he tried it anyway.

He squished into the dirt. Far too soft for his taste. He shook the dirt off and tried the next room.

It didn't seem like anyone used the door often as it creaked loudly upon being opened.

Tommy shook his head again at this "bed". It was hardly more than a plank of wood, and much less than a bed frame.

Still, if this person made it work maybe Tommy could too. He smacked down on to the bed and felt his bones ache almost immediately.

He sprung up from the wood and decided to take his chances on the last room. He opened the door and saw everything he could ever dream of.

A nest.

A nest full of shiny things like gold coins and emeralds and crowns embedded with diamonds.

He curled up in the nest and thanked the lords for this wonderful home being the one he found himself in this evening, before falling asleep.

He didn't wake up pleasantly though.

A sword was against his neck.

The Blade.

No, not the sword.

The villain.

So this home belonged to the Syndicate, huh? What were the odds?

Tommy calculated his escape perfectly. He could fall from the window away from The Blade.

Easy.

That was until The Phantom and The Crowfather showed up. Why did all these villains have The in their names?

Well, The Phantom could phase through walls and The Crowfather had him beat in the bird aspect so his only other plan was to beg for his life.

"Please, please, I'm sorry, I'm an orphan, I didn't know this was your house-"

The Crowfather chirped.

Wait he what?

Tommy chirped back. He didn't mean to. It just happened. He clapped a hand over his mouth.

He just chirped at The Crowfather.

What the hell?

"Mate, it's alright. Techno move your sword. Wilbur get the lad some chokecherries. These two were both orphans when I found them in my nest. As long as you're not a spy we'll treat you well."

And so Tommy was treated with respect, just like he was promised. He stayed in that nest and ate chokecherries with The Crowfather, who told him "Call me Phil, mate." and offered to help fix his tiny wings.

And although just earlier that morning he awoke in a forest alone, without a family, that night he fell asleep in a nest with a father and two brothers.

Family.