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[b]The Rafferty Estate, 8:40 AM
June 19th, 2021[/b]

	[color=91a3b0]"This is too sudden! It was one thing to join, but we're being told to all meet together! For the first time! Oh, God, I think I'm gonna be sick..."[/color]

	[color=fff79a]"Landon, you need to breathe. Also, you're molting."[/color]

	[color=91a3b0]"I am?! Oh, nonono! Stop! Stop it!"[/color] 

	The scene playing out in the elegant and well-kept bedroom of one Claire Rafferty would've been humorous if the sheer, honest panic of one of its residents wasn't so absolutely palpable, that being Landon Mandel, who was busy trying to keep the sprouting feathers across his arms from going any further than that, as the jet-black feathers were hastily shaken off his arm, cast against the once-pristine floor the pair of them stood on. [color=fff79a]"You know panicking further doesn't help it. Just take a deep breath. Relax."[/color] Claire was the voice of reason that brought him back down, bringing his shaky and labored breathing back down to something manageable, as any signs of his transformation slowly sank back down. [color=91a3b0]"...Thanks. I-I'm sorry about the feathers, I'll-"[/color] Before he could finish his thought, Claire merely held a hand up to stop him. To most, her blank stare was exactly that; completely emotionless, almost terrifyingly so, but Landon had spent enough time around her to recognize that ever-so-faint spark of concern with them. [color=fff79a]"I can handle it. You have better things to be doing."[/color]

	Taking a cautious few steps forward, Claire tentatively put a hand on Landon's shoulders, a slight smile across her face as the window behind them cast morning light upon her, illuminating her pale form and cascading through her golden hair. [color=fff79a]"I know you're scared, and you have every right to be. But you promised the both of us that you would do this, and I don't think a simple meeting is enough to stop you. Right, Landon?"[/color] While clearly hesitant to answer it, he eventually gave a curt nod of his head. Her smile grew just a bit larger. [color=fff79a]"Good. Now, you don't have much time, so you should get going. Show them your good side, Landon."[/color]

	[color=91a3b0]"...I have a good side?"[/color] 

	[color=fff79a]"...Don't ruin the moment. And I'm serious, you should go. It's already eight forty."[/color]

	That got him to shake his proverbial (and eventually literal) tail-feathers. [color=91a3b0]"I-It's already that late?! I have to go! Oh God, if I'm late to this..."[/color] Thankfully for him, his freshly flared-up anxiety over such a possibility was pushing his ability back into work, as fur and feathers alike began to coagulate across his form. Rushing to the bedroom window, he gave one last look to his only friend in the world. [color=91a3b0]"...I'll try my best to show that good side you can see."[/color] With a nervous smile, he was pushed over the edge by that small, terrifying pledge he made, as his form twisted and flexed into its new shape. Talons found purchase as the window was pushed up, and in spite of his new size, he slid out into the morning sky with ease. Time to get to work. [hr]


[b]Protectorate Headquarters, 8:44 AM
June 19th, 2021[/b]

	You know, it was something Landon had long since taken for granted in his old life, but now, it was a fact that seemed all too obvious to him now. People rarely looked above themselves. That much was obvious as he sailed through the morning skies, moving too fast for his cast shadow onto the streets to stir any potential attention, and his silent wingbeats carrying him through the winds in broad daylight, the many civilians below oblivious to the avian creature in flight above them. Thank goodness for that! He was already stressed enough, running short on time and with all the pressures both self-applied and not weighing him down. The last thing Landon wanted was to cause a public stir by becoming some kind of cryptid sighting. So it was with this thought lingering on his mind that he made record time in his flight through the city airways. 

	As he made his mute landing beyond the whish of air to the first checkpoint, Landon could already feel all eyes on him as the guards seemed to almost size him up. Not that it was a surprising occurrence, but it still didn't hurt any less each time this sort of thing happened. Sure, he was a 12-foot bird-monster, but he was a 12-foot bird-monster with feelings still! It felt awful being put under such scrutiny, so he was quick to present the proper credentials to get him moving. If this was how the average guard would view him, he was even more concerned as to how his fellow Wards might perceive him. In response to this mounting fear, he could feel feathers and fur grow out across his form just that bit more, making him all the more upset. 

	Landon passed his way down the stainless-steel hallway, and perhaps his curiosity getting the better of him, he ran one of his razor-sharp talons across it. Beyond making an awful noise that made him almost instantly flinch away, there wasn't even a mark on it. Well, that shouldn't surprise him much; this place was made with Capes in mind, so of course its defenses would be state-of-the-art. Not exactly the same as clawing his way into a vending machine. And so he kept walking, his wings flexing and fidgeting awkwardly behind him, as if they had a mind of their own. He was used to this sort of feeling; even if this place was more spacious that most, being inside anywhere caused his new form to tense up a bit. He definitely preferred somewhere more open, where he could feel the air against his wings. Anywhere else nowadays felt at least mildly claustrophobic. Still, he couldn't let that hold him back...Even if, admittedly, the closer and closer he neared his destination, the more he felt his body lag and hesitate. He could feel his stomach churn as his approach neared its end. In here, he'd be meeting everyone who would be his teammates, as well as the professional Capes leading and teaching them...How on Earth could he ever measure up to all of this? Maybe he would be better off if he...

	Shaking away his feelings of self-doubt, Landon recalled his promise. He had to try. And so, he stepped forward. [hr]

[b]Protectorate HQ, 8:46 AM
June 19th, 2021[/b]

	[color=91a3b0]'Wow, this is really spacious.'[/color] Was mercifully the first thing that passed his mind as he stepped into meeting room proper. In fact, he had enough space to properly shift his wings a bit, as they folded out several feet to flex out some of their tension, before compacting themselves back to not be so obstructive. The place seemed awfully comfy, with even a TV and some gaming consoles off to the side...Not that he'd ever played such a thing, but he knew of them, at least. However, he knew he couldn't distract himself forever, and looked to the actual inhabitants of the room, his large silvery domes that were the eyes of this form passing across all the new faces, his body tensing up with each one he visually passed. 

	There were the Protectorate members in the room, of course. Grandmaster was the first one he noticed, and the one who definitely brought the most tension to him. He was stoic and composed, with a look that, at least for Landon, always made him feel as if he was being looked [i]through[/i], instead of at. Next, though, was a more comforting sight (at least for him; he could imagine most people might not agree), but Mr. Nightstalker made his eyes turn up like crescent moons, pleased to see him here. For one, it simply made Landon feel better to not be the only one with an...Abnormal appearance, putting it politely, but it also helped that they were just a genuinely nice person, from what little he'd interacted with them. Last but certainly not least was Axiom, their resident Tinker. He didn't know her as well (probably due to the fact that she'd interacted with the other Wards on their costume situation, from what he'd heard, which...Well, he didn't exactly get involved in, to put it simply), but at the very least, she didn't come off as imposing as Grandmaster. He'd take it. 

	Okay, deep breath now; had to greet them properly. They were their effective bosses, after all. Choking down his fear, Muninn gave a bow to their three seniors (which looked rather awkward given his height), before standing back straight and looking them...Well, he couldn't muster the strength to meet Grandmaster eye-to-eye, so he settled for the vague area around them. [color=91a3b0]"I-It's an honor to be here! I hope I can be of some service!"[/color] Alright, he said his piece! Almost immediately, with surprising agility, he lunged for the nearest couch, curling into a near imperceivable ball of darkness upon it once he'd tucked in his arms and legs and wrapped his larger wingset around his form, as if sheltering him from the gaze of everyone present. The real surprise was how little space he seemed to take up on the couch in spite of his height. He had managed to be quite compact...

	Slowly recovering from his performance anxiety, one of his bright-white orbs peered out again, glancing over the other would-be Wards. He didn't know any of them, of course, and nothing about them looks-wise really set anything off. Not surprising; that meant he was the weirdest one of them. He'd kinda hoped there'd be at least one like him, but as it was, it seemed he would be isolated in his monsterhood amongst his teammates. Still, their choices for costuming were interesting to parse. One of them was wearing a get-up you'd expect a wastelander from some post-apocalyptic setting to wear, which caught him off-guard. It didn't seem very hero-like. Honestly, it didn't seem like...Anything? Too confused to really grasp the idea behind it, his luminous eye darted to the next one. Now THAT one stood out! It was techy as all get-out, and made him think of Ms. Axiom's design. Perhaps they'd been inspired? Regardless, it was eye-catching, and without even knowing its full purpose, simply looked impressive on its own. 

	The next one, however, nearly caused him to recoil back into his shapeless dark blob he was on the couch. They were full cloak-and-dagger, with terrifying glowing eyes piercing out from the shadows of their hooded figure. Though...Did he really have the right to be scared by that? He kinda had the same thing going on...But when he looked back at it again, he came to his conclusion. Yeah, scary. Was it some kind of intimidation tactic, or did the person underneath all of that really just want to look like a bad guy? And speaking of cloaks, there was another person here with the same setup. Were cloaks really popular in the superhero sphere and he just didn't know? Maybe he could ask for one...Wait, no, that'd mess with his wings. Well, regardless, at least this one's mask was notably less frightful, at least for him. He could only wonder what was going through the minds of his fellow Wards; especially about himself. He was this freaky, lanky bird-monster, and they'd just watched him act like a total teacher's pet. Was that bad? Probably. But he was just used to showing respect, and it was a hard thing to shake off...And honestly, with Grandmaster present, he wasn't sure he had the backbone to try and brush them off in any sense. And so, the squeamish bird-man sat huddled on the couch, fearful of what may come next.