Zek walked into the bar. It was a bit painful. After righting himself, he entered the bar properly and immediately proceeded to an empty table. It was at the threshold of evening and nighttime and was still pretty hot outside. Zek wore his trenchcoat anyways. It was like a thing he just did. Also, he adored all the pockets in it which he tended to fill with all sorts of interesting things.

Zek didn’t tend to frequent bars, not since starting his job as a bouncer. Spending your nights in a bar/club most days a week and then doing the same thing on your off nights except without getting paid? Eh, not his thing. But this was a special occasion. There was going to be live entertainment at this place and Zek was here for the show.

You see, the performer was a guy that was unforgettable to Zek. Well, the name wasn’t. Carl Rick or something. But the picture in the ad at the local grocery was of a dude with mismatched eyes and bits of wings could be seen in the pic. It looked a lot like a guy Zek had been body swapped with that one time and he wanted to see if it was the guy. Zek wasn’t really sure what he was going to do (cause trouble? Just enjoy? Write terrible reviews on Yup?) but no matter what, he had nothing better to do this evening.

It wasn’t the best bar he ever played, nor the worst the turn out wasn’t bad either. Mismatched eyes scanned the crowd and could only see silhouettes of people even with his eyes enchanced by his mutation. His eyes turned to slits while he tried to adjust to the small stage lights.

”Evening ladies, gents.” Carrick said as he walked up to the stool guitar in hand. A pint glass was set on a small table next to him filled with a stout, one that didn’t remind him of home. He didn’t want any more reminders of that place. ”Name’s Carrick O’Conner.” he strummed the guitar gently making sure everything sounded accordingly.

”As usual, I take requests. If I know the song, if you don’t got any sit back and enjoy yer drinks,” his wings adjusted behind him to make themselves more comfortable. His tail swayed behind him occasionally showing itself. ”No better place ‘hen here. Got drinks, A/C and for the ladies a little splash of an Irish accent.” he said jokingly.

”Tough crowd… right hop right into it, eh?” he quickly got started on a set. One he thought was appropriate for the setting, most bars like this preferred classics which was good because not a lot of classics were out of his wheelhouse.

It was totally the bird guy. Catbird guy, actually. Zek would recognize those wings and that tail anywhere. If only because there couldn’t be that many guys with bird wings and lion tails walking (or flying!) around New York. Probably. Well anyways the guy was Irish, looked close enough, and had a close enough name so Zek was willing to assume this was indeed the guy.

And he was clearly no comedian. Zek swiveled his head around on both directions, but he really didn’t need to to know the jokes fell flatter than pancakes in a trash compactor. “Cough. Awkward. Cough,” Zek verbalized into a fist. He kinda kept his voice down, but not too much. A lady nearby fixed him with a glare and he shot finger guns at her with a bright smile.

The guitar playing was fine, the singing was fine. It wasn’t the best he’d ever heard, not by any means. Of course, if it was the best he’d heard, Cam Mick up there would be hosting his own shows at some super expensive venue. As it was, Zek wondered if the guy was even getting paid at a joint like this.

But Carter Slick had some good vocals and skill anyways, and he picked a great song, too. Zek could see the backs of a lot of heads nodding and feet tapping. And one guy chugging a beer and slamming it on the table.

“Aw, this is garbage,” Sir Chug-a-lot bellowed from his seat. “That ain’t music. Get off the stage!”

Carrick shifted towards the glass and took a swig when he finished the song, his tail flicked in annoyance when he heard the heckle. There were some people saying nice things, his hears twitched picking up more than most would on stage he was good at tune stuff out.

”That’s odd. Got a few decades of people saying otherwise.” his tail flicked as he took another small sip and set it back on the stool. ”Like I said, open to suggestions.” Carrick said strumming the guitar once or twice when he started to hear the hecklers voice to causing him to repeat several times.

”Right, you ‘ave anything?” he said as he started to play softly his cat like eyes shifting to focus on the voices.”[/color]

Some of the cool people in the audience called out a couple of song titles. You know, like they were asked to. But Chughead wasn’t a cool person. “Yeah, I suggest you get off the stage!” he hollered. His buddies at his table laughed mechanically, as if they were just going along with his dumbness.

Bolstered by this, the guy took another chug of his beer and, with it in hand, stood up and started to yell, “We want some good music. Good music! Good music! Good music!” he was trying to start an audience chant. But it never got off the ground.

“Aiiiie!” a woman shrieked. The woman who’d glared at Zek, actually. Because you see, the man’s pants had suddenly vanished in a quick flash of light.

A minute earlier…

Right as the song ended and the heckling began again in earnest, Zek had an idea. A brilliant, terrible, fun-provoking idea. He scooched his chair back and slid under his table, nearly braining himself on the central support leg. Then as the drunken heckler had started talking, Zek made golden ball and took careful aim. A quick snap of the wrist and the ball shot across the floor, bounced once, and struck the man’s pants. The man wouldn’t even have felt a thing. Well, now he might be feeling the air conditioning on his legs because now all he had covering his legs were a ratty pair of boxers that, in the dim lighting, might’ve been smiley faces.

The crowd began to erupt in gasps and giggles as various people realized what was happening and Zek began titterring under his table.

The shifter’s tail flicked behind him showing his annoyance. His eyes shifted to the direction of the voice was coming from and he smirked a little when no one was carrying on the chant. There was a commotion and a scream followed by some laughter. His ears picked up on a few of them at least.

”Right, the masses, ave spoken. Sides, yer miss didn’t seem to mind my choice in music.” he gave a little grin. ”Can only assume someone had one two many.” he shook his head and started to run his fingers through some cords trying to come up with another song to play.

”Mate, ya got a name?” Carrick called out to the heckler ”Married? She got a name?”

Zek was enjoying himself. He was momentarily tempted to go a little bit further with his sneaky theftiness but decided he didn’t want to make the guy a full on flasher. That would just be uncomfortable. The guy just started swearing and got too caught up in his, uh, sudden exposure to respond. Instead he scrambled back in his seat and scooted forward under his table as much as possible in an effort to hide as much of himself as possible. His buddies were roaring with laughter.

And Zek decided to up the ante.

Another glowing ball bounced across the floor and suddenly the guy’s chair was gone and he came crashing down on his boxer-clad butt. Zek cackled a bit more even as the guy began swearing.

“Ah!” the more-than-buzzed man yelled. “I’m gonna get you for that, you mutant freak!” He struggled to pull himself to his feat, his face probably rage-red (although it was too dark for most to tell well) and in his drunken and pain-staken haze, it appeared that he was coming to the conclusion that the singer had taken his pants and chair.

With wide eyes and a wider smile, Zek watched the guy grab his beer bottle and lunge for the stage.

There was another flash of light something quick and hard to make out. It seemed familiar but then it vanished. Carrick tapped his fingers around his pint glass and then lowered it after hearing the man call someone a ‘mutant freak’. ”Com’on, it’s 2020 no need for name calling right?” he said not registering the threat till the man’s face came into view under the lights.

‘Fight!’ yelled several instincts as his mismatched eyes glanced at the beer bottle and then back to the man’s face. Then down to his bare legs where pants should have been. The drunk heckler only made two steps onto the ‘stage’ before Carrick stood and turned and launched the first thing he could grab other than his guitar. That just happened to be the stool he was sitting on.

Was it the best move? No, in fact he probably just signed a death warrant for his chances to play in the fine establishment that allowed someone to get over served like this. The chair connected with the pant less man and knocked him back to the ground. ”Fek.” he said setting his guitar gently on the wall behind him.

“Hehehehe,” Zek tittered from his table fortress. There were a few chairs still surrounding the table so he was somewhat obscured from other folks. That, his black trenchcoat, and the already low lighting made decent camouflage for his nefarious delights. However he no longer had a fantastic view of the events. That was probably why people chose to sit on chairs at tables instead of hunkering underneath them at shows.

Eh.

Then the drunken doofus hit the floor, and with a chair riding his face. Oooo, Birdman was fighting back! And suddenly a bunch of people nearby were abruptly standing and getting to their feet, a few moving forward as if to contain the action while others were clearing some space and backing up. A few others just seemed to be frozen, like the drunk guy’s buddies.

Time to see what I can do about that! Zek smiled ferally and threw another ball. This one didn’t vanish anything. Instead it hit with the force of a baseball right on the shoulder of one of the buddies.

“Hey!” the guy shouted and leaped to his feet. He spun around and saw a man who just happened to be passing by, possibly on his way back from the restroom or, like, Paris or something. (Zek didn’t really care). The guy hauled off and whacked the man in the face, sending Passer-by stumbling into a table before capsizing it.

Suddenly more people were standing and now a lot of people were yelling. And it was starting to spread. Because now the rest of the buddies were splitting up, some going to the aid and defense of the pantsless comrade, others to the side of their newly-offronted friend.

And Zek had front row seats to the action. They were part of his shelter, just a couple mere yards away from the suddenly burgeoning brawl. As voices, feminine and masculine began to rise, Zek’s tittering evolved into full-on chortling.

“Eeheheheheheheee!”

‘Great, just great.’ Thought Carrick as someone was pushed backwards onto the stage landing on the mount for the lights causing them to sway forward trying to land on Carrick. If he didn’t watch it unfold he might have lost a beer however pint glass in hand, Carrick took a long swig. ”Right… bad time to ask about payment?” Carrick yelled towards the bartender but figured they had their hands full with someone breaking a glass off of the bar.

It was weird but it was starting to remind the shifter of home and the times he went to the pubs with his dad and brother. Known in the shifters town as the barroom brawlers among other things. Carrick unlike his father and brother didn’t find it as enjoyable. Someone else did… ‘fight!’

Carrick’s pupils turned to slits as he felt his blood rush. Carrick’s ears started to ring drowning out the sounds momentarily his hands flexed feeling the pint glass. ‘FIGHT!’ the ringing stopped the voices became clear. His tail felt something instincts took over and he moved. ‘FIGHT!’ His pint glass the only weapon he had found a target in the face of the would be attacker.

The shifter backed up and grabbed his guitar and hopped off the stage. The guy with the glass in his face let out a yell. Carrick no longer wanted to be there, he was no longer a minor and he didn’t want to get sent back home. There was nothing for him there.

Between people trying to fight, trying to stop the fight, and trying to escape the fight, Zek quickly lost sight of most of the excitement. Too many legs and feet near his table hideaway really blocked his view. The noise and hubbub blocked out most of what he could hear. It was good cover for his laughing too.

Suddenly a man came stumbling backwards, fell over a chair and came crashing down onto Zek’s table, causing it to violently upend, narrowly missing his head and totally blowing his cover.

“Ack!” Zek exclaimed. He reflexively smashed a glowing orb into the table, making it vanish,.and immediately began scuttling away on his hands and knees.

“‘Scuse me, pardon me,” he said as he started crawling between various legs. He needed to find some other cover. A shoe roughly jabbed him. It, and the person it was attached to, quickly vanished in another flash of light. “Scuse you!” he said after the fact.

Zek summoned the table’s orb into being and made his table reappear above him in yet another flash of light, in the correct, rightside-up position. He’d traveled maaaybe ten feet, but know the lspace where the table had formerly been was creating a somewhat decent brawling area, if only because there were several empty chairs and more room to move. And oh look, was that Pantsless Wonder picking up one of those chairs in an effort to smash it into Birdman?

The shifter was wondering how it came to this. It was supposed to be an easy gig. Play some generic music for some generic people, not getting into a big brawl like the one that was happening around him.

Carrick wasn’t paying attention to behind him and he felt something heavy smack his back and one of his wings. It hurt. He stumbled forward into a chair and caught himself his body reacted on it’s own and a loud lion’s roar echoed out from his chest as he turned around and jumped on the guy who just attacked him.

‘Fight!’ ‘Fight!’ ‘Fight!’ his eyes refocused and he was on top of the pantless guy who had heckled him earlier. Carrick didn’t know how he got on top of the guy but he looked from the guys face to his own bloodied knuckles. Carrick let out another roar and punched again before getting up and grabbing his guitar.

Things were starting to get hairier that he preferred. His eyes searched for the exit ‘flight’ before he could go any where however Carrick was tackled into a table by two guys twice his size. ”Fer **** sakes!”

It was Pantsless Wonder picking up one of those chairs in an effort to smash it into Birdman! And it seemed to have been very effective. The lion roar was also very effective and very startling.

Oh yes, this was definitely the guy he’d been swapped with. And he was a beast! Zek positively gawked as Beastman straight up pounced on the semi-naked dude and rode him to the ground. Then came the fists. And some blood. And soon a guitar--

Zek was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, it had been a bit of a mistake to swipe the one guy’s chair. (He had absolutely no regrets about stealing the pants because that was just pure comedy). Because Zek had had an inkling of a memory, way back to the time when he’d been stuck as the winged guy. And had become a monster catbird. And wanted to hunt someone.

Zek had a feeling this wouldn’t end well.

“Alrighty, let’s do some damage control,” he said to the table. The table said nothing and just returned a blank expression. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s my fault,” he admitted in a huff. Light appeared in his hands and he flung them at the guys now...what was that? What were those guys doing? Maybe he should’ve regretted swiping the one guy’s pants if it led to---oh they were just tackling Beasty Boy and trying to hurt him. Oh whew.

Golden balls flicked out, bounced once against the floor, and then collided with the semi-drunken duo on top of the Birdman. They vanished. “To save a horse, you ride a cowboy, not a birdman! Idiots!” he yelled from under his table, even though his targets couldn’t possibly hear him, and maybe other people couldn’t either. But some things just had to be said, you know?

His guitar dropped when he bounced off of the table, the ‘twang’ sound it made was more concerning than the two patrons who had just started to attack him and then vanished in a light. A light that was familiar.

”Awful, mate.” Carrick said out loud sure there was a bunch of people fighting and a ton of chaos but given his enhanced hearing he heard things sometimes without even meaning to. Carrick quickly looked around and once he knew he had a moment he could study his poor baby.

Cradling the guitar Carrick quickly gave the musical instrument a once over before noticing the source of the sound he heard earlier was nothing more than a broken string. ”Christ. Gave me a good scare there.” Carrick said dodging a tussling pair as they rolled onto the table next to him.

Catching his balance on a chair next to him and shifting his gaze around to the nearest exit Carrick managed to glance at a familiar face one he couldn’t place. Even though for a short time it used to be his face. ”Behind ya boyo!”

Huh? Zek twisted his head around way more than most would expect and blinked owlishly for just a moment. A guy was charging at Zek! Or his table! Or at someone else but was drunk! Either way Zek was in the way!

Flash!

The guy was gone. Now Zek was stuck with four grown men in hammerspace, and from a sweaty barfight, no less. I’m gonna need a shower after all this. But like, a shower on the inside. He snapped his head back around, facing the same direction the rest of his body. “Thanks!” he yelled at Birdman.

He threw a ball and the charging man was now charging into a group of men and women. THey all went sprawling like bowling pins. “STRIKE!” Zek cried with glee. But it was short lived because while provoking bar fights was literally always a fun and awesome idea, being in the middle of them and seen as a target was literally not a fun and awesome idea.

“Hey! You wanna get outta here?” he yelled at The Amazing Catbird. Beat. “That’s not a pickup line! Just a nonviolent suggestion!” he added in similar high volumes.

People were now clearly noticing the lights that kept coming from underneath Zek’s table. Another pair of footsteps came near and Zek released one of the Tackle Twins at the person’s feet. THey both went down and Zek used the confusion to crawl out from his table and get to his feet.

“Loved the song!” he shouted at the Birdman. And then he was flipping a ball at someone else and the second Tackle Twin was suddenly falling on their heads.

Zek hated being on the defensive, so now it was time to clear a path and make his escape.