Clipped Wings [Hawks x Overhaul - Hawks x Endeavor]

[NicTheDjinn]

Even through Overhaul's leather mask, the heavy perfume of antiseptic stung his lungs with every breath. It felt clean. He felt clean.



He sat in a simple chair, fingers skittering over the screen of his cellphone as he updated Hari on the status of their new guest. Said guest was on his knees, slumped half over a meter away; he was well out of reaching range. Blood collected in languid drips on either side of him, dying the electric red of his feathers a deep coagulated scarlet. Meat hooks in either wing kept the #2 hero just high and upright enough that he couldn't collapse. Overhaul could hardly imagine what kind of pain he must be in, and could only ruminate in anticipation of the pain to come.



The wings weren't dangerous to him. Not anymore. Taking Hawks down hadn't been easy, but with Hari in a sniper's position and his own terrifyingly quick quirk, they had done it, and the first line of business for Overhaul was to rewrite Hawk's body and shape it into something that was uniquely his. The helplessness of the hero was as good to Overhaul as his own personal brand. He was almost certain that Hawks would still be able to feel the wings, and he was also sure that the feathers that had fallen around him were going to stay dormant. If they didn't... Overhaul's eyes darted away from his prize and to the table beside him where a loaded gun was primed and ready.
He locked and set his cellphone down next to the gun.


The next table down from that had his tools. Not many, just the kind of instruments that were hard to recreate with his quirk. Folded underneath, protected behind acrylic doors, were changes of clothes and a drawer of gloves. To his other side, a camera with a blinking light was pointed at Hawks and already being sent to a computer set up in the kitchen of their makeshift base. Other than those, the room was empty. White tiles floors dipped toward the center to a drain, and there was a showerhead affixed to the wall behind him for cleaning the scene. Hari would see to that. The lights in the room were brutally bright and cast everything into a sharp overglow that exposed every inch of dust or dirt that hung in the air or smeared the floor. Overhaul sighed that he could see it at all, but it was the cleanest working environment he could get.



His coat was draped on the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up and carefully placed on his thighs as the leaned forward, careful not to touch anything other than himself as he watched Hawks with cold, emotionless eyes. He was stripped down to boxers- the courtesy more for Overhaul's comfort than Hawks's


It had been two hours. It was time, and there was a good chance, Overhaul knew, that Hawks could probably be roused now.

"Wake up." Overhaul said, calm and steady, before dropping into a chilled danger, "Hero."

-----

How the hell Hawks had ever gotten into this situation, he couldn't ever say. Yes, Fierce Wings wasn't exactly the most combat heavy quirk, neither was his short and thin frame, but he thought he had always made up for that with speed. Quick thinking, fast on his feet, able to make snap decisions in rapid succession. And where speed couldn't help him, his charm usually could. Charm or his innate ability to just annoy the hell out of someone until they gave in and gave him what they wanted. An expert at espionage.

So, when the leader of the local yakuza Shie Hassaikai approached him, he didn't think much of it. He just tried to brush off the sudden, weird meeting, knowing that there was a case being built around the masked man that hadn't quite found concrete evidence. The man technically wasn't doing anything illegal by talking to the hero and Hawks didn't want to step on any toes by arresting him over something simple. That didn't stop the feeling of dread from taking hold in the blond's heart, his senses on high alert. His wings puffed up slightly, sharp golden eyes focusing intensely on every move Chisaki made. Every slight flutter of his fingers, every side glance, every time the brunet shifted on his feet. He kept a very close eye on Kai.

And not a close enough one on his surroundings.

He never picked up on the bullet until milliseconds before it had made contact with him, Hawks' world going black.

He woke up to the worst pain he's ever felt. His wings felt as though they were on fire and were going to tear off of his back, letting out a low groan of pain. He struggled ever so slightly and let out a sharp cry, raising his head. He glared sharply at the man standing in front of him, letting out a huff. "So... this was your grand plan?" He grinned. "Trap me and hang me up by my wings? Should've taken em away."

After all, he could control his feathers. He grinned, lowering her head slightly as he prepared to launch and onslaught of feathers at Overhaul. But there was nothing.

His heart dropped deep down into his stomach, the grin falling into a look of pure horror. He could feel Fierce Wings. He could feel every inch of them. But even just... stretching them out was impossible. He let out a slow breath, staring at Chisaki. "What--" He swallowed thickly.

"What did you do to me?"

-----

Overhaul sneered behind his mask, eyes crinkling up with disgust. He dropped down to crouching so he was close to face level with Hawks. He appreciated the proper fear that spread across Hawks's face, the knowledge of the actual danger he was in sinking in so quickly. He knew enough about Hawks to not be lulled into security by that, though. The little hero was more of an attack dog than any other hero he could have chosen, and that was wuith a purpose. Fed from the hand of the Hero Commission themselves, Overhaul had a sneaking suspicion that Hawks was going to be far harder to break than his previous quarry.

Staring Hawks down with cold eyes, he let the horrified question hang in the sharp air for a moment longer than comfortable before responding, voice flat and borderline bored.

"Did you think I was stupid? Perhaps you should keep tabs on villains that you aren't sicced on, hero." He reached up, running a gloved hand over the almost soft feathers. They couldn't be hardened now, he was relatively sure, and they almost felt pleasant separated from his skin. Then, he grabbed the wing at its first joint and yanked Hawks forward by tit to get him closer, "You got an Overhaul. I'm actually very please that you can still feel them at all. I wasn't sure you'd be able to."

Blood pooled between his fingers, so close to where the hook had jostled loose any clotting and was freely bleeding again. It collected on his glove, warm and slik, and he pulled it back quickly to shake it off to the side, visibly disgusted.

"And this-" He continued, "-is hardly a grand plan. This is they set up."

-----

Post by M The Queen on Oct 4, 2020 22:43:37 GMT
The more the yakuza boss spoke, the more unsettled Hawks became. He swallowed. An Overhaul... Right, right, that had been the name of this asshole's quirk. He could deconstruct and then reconstruct anything he touched at his own will. That... He'd done something to Fierce Wings. He didn't have time to mull over just what that meant as his wing was tugged on, Hawks letting out a sharp cry of pain. "F-Fuck!" Blood trickled down his feathers, sending shivers down his spine along side the searing pain that ran along his wing and into his shoulder.

He grit his teeth as he watched Chisaki shook off the blood on his glove with a disgusted look. "Set up for what?" He shifted slightly, his shoulders still on fire and his wings screaming out in agony from supporting all of his weight. He didn't like whatever this guy was planning, but the hero was in no position to stop it. He moved his wrists, testing the bonds around his wrists; zip ties from what he could tell by the way the plastic bit into his wrists. If he could break these, he could get himself off these damn meat hooks and...

Then what?

He had no idea where he was or how to get out of here. His Quirk wasn't responding to him thanks to this asshole, so there went his primary means of fighting. He had other ways of defending himself, of course, but with the pain and the blood loss, things were looking grim.

-----

Overhaul glanced to the side, towards the camera that was trained on Hawks and himself. The red light blinked in a steady flick of light. It was plugged in and being sent right to his computer, so no matter the time, no matter how long it took to break the hero, the filming would continue, and he would get everything he needed. He stood again, the blood threatening to seep through his glove, and made his way over to the table to get a new one, not bothering to answer Hawk's question as he did so.

Once he had discarded the soiled pair and donned new ones, he faced Hawks again. "Set up for my manifesto- You're on camera. The world is sick, and you are a virus that is attacking the system. I am the cure. The world will have no choice but to see this."

If he were being honest with Hawks, he could say that Hawks was also there fr his entertainment and pleasure. The crack of bone, the slight tug as a knife bites through just to top layers of skin and fat, the moment when screams turn to sobs, and then the moment when those sobs just fall into shaking shoulders and a valiant attempt to stay awake, Survival instincts could only take things so far, and the horror of holding one's own intestines usually broke his experiments long before he was done with them. This one, though, this one might just do. Torture training, a strong will, a natural drive to protect, and the deeply burried anger that Overhaul saw in Hawks was enough to drive him to an almost lustful eagerness just thinking about all he could do before he was no longer fun.

From this side of the room, Hawks lit on all sides and the glare of said light filtering through his strained wings made Hawks look almost angelic, and if Overhaul were a religious man, he may have considered a muttered prayer. As it was, he only let out a long held breath in a deep, sigh, eyes closing for just a moment to regain himself.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he gently took up a small paring knife from the table. "Let's start page one."

-----

This guy... This guy was insane!! Hawks had worked on some pretty intense cases with some pretty demented people, but this... this took the case. This guy had some weird ass message and viewpoint on the world that the blond hero couldn't quite comprehend. He viewed everyone as sick, but with what? With Quirks? With the idea of heroism? What was his goal?!

Hawks' head was swimming, trying to rationalize any small bit of what was happening here when he heard Chisaki mention starting. Golden eyes filled with fear, his head snapping up as he looked at the brunet. "F-Fuck no! This-- This is insane! You're going to torture me on camera?! For what?! Some snuff film?!" Hawks was panicking now, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a jackhammer. He'd normally try to take a more calm and rational approach, try and use his charisma to get out of tricky situations. But in this case here, he was hooked up on meat hooks and couldn't use his wings. His charisma had flown out of the window where he couldn't.

He jerked on the zip ties holding his wrists together and immediately regretted it, his wings burning in pain as he inadvertently jostled them and reopened the wounds. Blood steadily streamed down crimson feathers and dripped onto the floor, Hawks crying out in agony.

-----

Overhaul took a moment to let Hawks hurt himself and reassert that there was no running from what was about to happen. He was hardly tied down, but Overhaul had been correct in thinking that the most effective way to keep "The Winged Hero" down was just to clip the wings. Or, in this case, drive meat hook through them after severing the muscles and nerves used for movement. Once Hawks had more or less stopped his struggling again, he approached, kneeling while being careful to keep his knee and shoes out of the blood. Like this, he was on eye level with Hawks. Working like this was new, personal, and almost felt uncomfortably intimate. Usually he left things like this to underlings.

Overhaul grabbed under Hawks's chin to tilt his head up and force him to look him in the eyes. "If some sickos end up getting off to this, that isn't my fault." He droned, "This is for one purpose only, and I'm not repeating it again so pay attention." He shook Hawks's face before brining it back to looking at him, grip bruisingly hard.

"Us, everyone, we are infected with Quirks and the most vile symptom is the dive to heroism and villainy. I'm going to cure it, and you are just the first truly difficult stain on humanity. You are among the worst of the worst." Overhaul trailed off almost softly and he let go of Hawks's face and instead brought up the knife so that the tip was pressing just above his Adam's apple, just gently enough not not yet pierce. "Comments?"

-----

Hawks scowled at Overhaul as his face was gripped but kept his mouth shut, knowing that if he talked back here and now all that’d earn him was more pain. In fact, it’d probably even come with a high cost: His life. He let out a grunt at the shaking, squeezing his eyes shut as, inevitably, the rest of his body moved and he swung slightly on the meat hooks. Those now ever so familiar jolts of pain raced through his wings and into his shoulder blades, radiating down his back.

Sure, Hawks got an answer to his question, but it sure didn’t do anything other than terrify him. He knew Chisaki was bad news but this- The guy was certifiably insane! Sure, he had a clear vision and he was obviously incredibly smart, but this talk of quirks and “sickness”. It made Hawks’ blood run cold, more so than the cool blade that pressed against his Adam’s apple. He didn’t know that you could swallow carefully, but here he was, doing just that.

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he kept his golden gaze locked with Chisaki’s cold and uncaring one. “Nope. Not a one. Pretty crystal clear.” Lord save him because obviously his mouth wasn’t going to. Hawks’ mind ran fast, trying to formulate a plan to stay alive and escape. His quirk was, in all essence of the word, gone. He couldn’t fall back on that and hope that he’d make it out alive. Which meant he’d have to withstand whatever torture Kai had in mind before other pros could come rescue him. “So… where ya startin’? Can I make a bit of a request and have ya not rough up my face too much? That’s my real money maker,” he said with a grin.

Yep. He was gonna die.

-----

Overhaul took in Hawks's reactions with a flat look, but it sent small shivers of excitement down his spine. Hawks was more vocal that Chisaki had expected, government training and all. He pondered that it could have been a show, something to hide when it actually got bad, but he had gotten good over the years at reading and gauging pain. It seemed real.

"You don't get requests." Overhaul said, then flicked the tool over so that it was blade side up and in one motion sliced just through the skin of the throat, then much deeper into the soft flesh under the jaw. Little flecks of blood hit his hand as he followed through, the blade leaving through the skin of Hawks's chin. If he had pulled correctly, it wouldn't be fatal. If, however, he had miscalculated, he was ready to overhaul Hawks and try again. "Don't worry, though, I'll fix it. A thousand times if I have to before the message sinks in."

He had no line or plan on when to stop, and he knew that he could rely on his eight to find him and stop him before he wore himself out. He could declare the message sunk in within the next five minutes, or the next five hours, or the next 5 days, and Hawks played more of a role in his own fate than Chisaki let on.