"Listen, this is the plan," Quackity says shortly, leaning against a wall. 

Purpled is sitting on a tipped-over oil container, more focused on whatever's going on in his phone, and Slime(Quackity often forgets his real name is Charlie) is sitting in the oil, smiling like always, his green coloration darkening by the second.

"Come on. You've been saying you've 'had a plan' for the past week," Purpled huffed. "No big build-up, please, my ADHD doesn't like that."

Quackity rolled his eyes to heaven, glancing over at Slime to see if he had any complaints. And of course, he didn't, like usual he was the easy one. It honestly amazed Quackity how Purpled could be barely younger than him yet have the attention span of a braindead butterfly.

Not that Purpled was braindead, no, he was way-smart. More like way-too-smart...

Quackity cleared his throat. "So, we're looking for someone with wings. That should be easy to spot... right?" His own golden wings were tucked behind his back. He didn't like to have them out in the city; people would surely connect him to Gambit, the newest city vigilante.

"13 percent of the entire population of Lumenaria are Avians. That's 13 percent of 714,113 people. So there's roughly... 92,834.69 avians in Lumenaria." Purpled rattled off boredly, not looking up from where he was staring down at his phone screen.

"Why the .69?" Quackity asked. "You could round."

"I could," Purpled said with a shrug, pocketing his phone - goddamn miracle right there. "But I'd rather, you know, not."

"Ha. 69." Slime said, almost completely black by now. He stood up. All the oil promptly rushed out of his skin, leaving a slightly slimy and very slippery puddle of black oil in the alleyway. Purpled wrinkled his nose and lifted his shoe before it could be stained by the oil.

Purpled's words finally caught up to Quackity. "So, wait, you're saying that any one of those ninety-two-whatever thousand avians could be-" He cut himself off, huffing and beginning to pace the alley, the oil staining the bottoms of his navy blue boots.

"Stupid stupid stupid motherfucking dickheads I'm so goddamn tired..." He muttered as he aggressively splashed through the oil, sending a drop to land on Purpled's phone screen - he'd pulled it out again; goddamn addict(Quackity really had to stop thinking negative things about his friends[?]).

The alien hybrid huffed and wiped it off with Quackity's spare sweater before getting up and levitating to sit on a windowsill a good 10 feet above the other hybrids, kicking his feet slightly as he leaned against the window covered by blinds.

Quackity groaned and resumed his morose leaning on the wall. Slime sat back down in the oil, gently splashing around in it like it was a puddle. His glasses - very expensive rectangular ones - were placed haphazardly to the side where he hopefully wouldn't harm them.

A rock hit his forehead and he looked up to see Purpled flicking rocks off the windowsill. "Hey!"

"Sorry, can't hear you, I'm hyperfixating right now," Purpled called back loudly, flicking another stone so it ricocheted off a metal pipe and hit him in the forehead again.

The alley was quiet for a bit, Quackity staring down at his shoes. The leather shimmered slightly in the dim streetlights and the silver heels(Genuine silver, mind you, not cheap rip-off fake metal) shined like beacons.

Then, the sound of boots echoed from outside the alley. Quackity ignored them, assuming the person would just walk right past and continue with their lovely evening. He was wrong, and the footsteps turned into the alley.

Quackity looked up, expecting to see someone either trying to mug them or someone who just took a wrong turn. But he had to do a double-take at who he saw.

"...Sam?"

"Hey," The emerald-haired man said, scratching the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly. "Figured I'd come and help out - Foolish said to say hi and that he's doing a great job taking care of Las Nevadas and totally not struggling in every aspect possible."

"Why did you want to help?" Quackity asked. "You don't even know what we're doing or who we're looking for."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, but it seeme like a fun time - and I needed an excuse to come back here." His eyes scanned the cityscape. "Primes, I haven't been in this old city for years..."

"That makes you sound old," Quackity snorted. Sam was 21, same as him, but a month older.

Sam shrugged. "Nostalgia can hit at any age - it doesn't discriminate."

"Okaaaay..." Quackity said. "You do know we're illegal vigilantes, right?" 

"I came prepared," Sam said, motioning to his backpack. "Identity and everything. You can call me Daedalus."

Oh. He really did want to help.

"Well then..." Quackity managed. "Welcome to the team, Daedalus."

Quackity then turned and grumpily flew up to Purpled's perch.

"You could have warned me someone was coming! You totally saw him!" He hissed, a feather coming loose.

Purpled rolled his eyes.

"Well, I knew who it was, and I knew he wasn't a threat, and I felt like being a dick, so... Nah. I couldn't have."

Quackity huffed before going back to rest on the ground. "How did you find us anyway?" He asked Sam.

"Oh, Purpled's got, like a million trackers in his phone," The creeper hybrid responded easily. "All I had to do was a bit of hacking and boom! Instant location. He should probably fix that, by the way."

Quackity shook his head in mild disbelief. "Welcome to the team, Daedalus, indeed..." He mumbled.

~•~•~•~

It turned out Sam was very serious about the whole vigilante suit thing. His outfit consisted of a high-quality gas mask covering his mouth and nose, and dark green cargowear full of pockets for all his little gadgets and stuff.

He also had this insane trident that could literally extend. And he made it himself. So that was pretty cool.

In the first few days of his being on the quest, he fixed:

• Purpled's ray gun

• Slime's glasses

• Quackity's music player

• Purpled's phone

• His own trident

• The alarm clock

• Everyone's morale

• Slime's glasses(Again)

• Quackity's hatchet skills(Or lack thereof)

• Purpled's phone addiction(Ha, as if, that's impossible)

• A random toaster he found on the side of the road

So, yeah, things were going great!

Unfortunately, he also didn't have any idea how to pick one avian out of 92 thousand, so nothing in that department... But he was great at fighting! Quackity didn't know if he had a power, and if he did, he tended not to use it.

But he was great with his trident. Quackity could hardly believe the speed he twirled it or the force he struck with. He knocked Grapnel out cold the first time they squared off - and he made it look easy.

Which is why Quackity wished he was here when the SBI attacked. Fortunately, Slime had gotten Revenger stuck to the ground with his bodily fluids(Cough cough, slime) and was now sitting next to him and watching as more slime(He was constantly producing more) oozed off of his body and onto Revenger's sticky cocoon.

 Unfortunately, the other two members were still kicking around.

Purpled(Plasma) squared off against Corvid in the air, the two at an impasse as Purpled aimed his ray gun at Corvid's wings, threatening to fire if the avian came any closer.

Which meant that he was sparring with Somnus on the rooftop.

Quackity darted at the hero consistently, not allowing him any time to sing those god-awful songs of his. His knife struck Somnus in the upper arm, pulling a hiss from his rival.

Whoah, rival? When did that happen? Just now, apparently. Okay, they were rivals, even if Somnus didn't know it.

The two of them danced around each other for a while more, Quackity shutting him down whenever Somnus tried to sing.

"Your singing is awful!" He yelled at the hero. "And I bet the lyrics are trash too!" Bringing Somnus down really lifted him up. Inspiring, you know?

"Yikes." Revenger pitched in moodily from where he was incapacitated in the slime. Slime himself didn't even appear to be listening as he stared off into the east, in the direction of Las Nevadas.

Somnus stopped in his tracks, looking offended. "Whoah, ouch." And then Quackity barreled into him, knocking him to the ground and pinning him immediately.

Gold feathers flew and Somnus let out an oomph noise as he went down, trying to avoid having his head bonked on the concrete roof.

He had the hero pinned down by his body, hands on either side of his head, staring into the place his eyes would be, he could feel Somnus staring back, Revenger made some comment on how Somnus looked like a tomato, Quackity's face heated up, and- Wait a minute.

Sorry this one took a while to get out! I've been very busy and was in the car all day yesterday.

Words: 1,460

Ily all, have a great day, and please take care of yourselves!

-ITCFWI