Wither Wings [DISCONTINUED]

Kill It Before It Lays Eggs

I have not abandoned you, chickadees, I promise. I had theatre until 10 every night and I don’t love you all that much to type into the wee hours of the night, even if I had already written it down in my notebook. This contains some serious badassery. You have been warned.

Also, if you are just as psyched as I am for the new Heroes of Olympus book, The Mark of Athena, check out my three-shot on my profile page. I have posted the first chapter today (containing the very juicy reunion scene) and will follow up with more chapters tomorrow and Tuesday, the day the book comes out!

So sit back, relax, and enjoy…

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Last time on Wither Wings.

“This isn’t real,” Max attempted to stay strong, but her bottom tip was trembling.

“But we are real, Max,” Gazzy and Iggy said in unison, an almost robotic tinge painting the edges of their voices.

“Shut UP!” She covered her ears as they continued to talk. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!”

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A flake of fluffy, white, and most decidedly fake snow drifted down and settled on the nose of one Maximum Ride as she window-shopped in not a very convincing manner with Steve on a cold December day in downtown Manhattan.

 “Christmas…” Steve breathed out in awe, making a full circle underneath the twinkling lights and soap-spewing music horn of the latest department store that was playing track three of twenty nine, a tinny version of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’

Max just rolled her eyes and pawed at her nose with mitten-clad hands. “Whatever you say, Cap. Let’s just get the groceries and zoom out of here.”

“What?” Steve stopped mid-step, his over coat swishing about his legs. “You don’t like Christmas?”

Max shrugged. “I’ve never been one for the holidays, considering the fact that I’ve never celebrated them.” She raised an eyebrow as Steve’s expression of utter horror before bursting out laughing.

“Never celebrated the holidays?” Steve paused for one second before grabbing her hand and pulling her down the street. “Then we have a lot of decorating to do!”

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“Graah!” Thor did a practice swing to the left with both of his arms out straight, his fingers wrapped around Mjölnir’s handle. “Ngyaaah!” he grunted, pulling the hammer over his head in an arc.

“Shblaah!” Another swing.

“Agraaah!” Another.

“Mra – Oh hello Steven,” Thor stopped mid-swing as the elevator doors opened, setting Mjolnir down on the carpet. “Maximum.”

“Thor,” Max gritted her teeth as she struggled to pull the abnormally large Christmas tree through the silver elevator doors.

“Ah, I always thought this living space required a bit of shrubbery,” Thor watched Max grapple with the breadth of the branches. “Did son of Howard finally give in to my requests?”

“Haha, no,” Steve chuckled, two bags of ornaments clinking together in his left hand, a box of silver tinsel in his right. “It’s Christmas.”

Max put the tree up in the corner of the room next to the balcony, showering herself with pine needles. “It’s a religious thing.” She snorted like a horse, shaking the needles out of her hair and brushing them off of her jacket.