Chapter Text
Wilbur had to keep his disguised face carefully wiped of emotion as he grappled with the very hero he was impersonating.
Blade was, by far, one of the easiest heroes to impersonate. Perfect for it in a way that made the changeling want to hiss in delight. Strong silent type? Ha! Child's play. Even a novice actor could pull it off.
Just keep quiet, don't emote too much outside of an occasional amused snort or irritated expression. Shy away from cameras. Dismiss questions in as few words as possible. All business, no bullshit. It was easy enough.
Even if the amount of love radiating from the gathering crowd made him want to smirk ear to ear as he pushed the combat hero back step by step. Blade was a good actor too, able to keep a straight face even if he was by far worse for wear out of the two of them. Then again, Wilbur supposed looking confident when on the verge of defeat would be an excellent strategy in deterring villains or rattling their confidence.
Too bad for him, however. His act only really worked if the person he fought wasn't aware of the deception.
And Wilbur knew deception very well. It came in his nature as a changeling.
All Blade's confidence did was sort of reassure those few in the crowd that still believed the hero was the genuine article. But he could sense their confidence wavering. More and more hesitant little blips of love heading towards his way the longer he made it seem like he was the real Blade.
With all that love it was a wonder he hadn't tossed the hero halfway across the city at this point. He easily could with how much the crowd was giving him to feast on.
He gave leeway to allow the hero to push him back a little, making the crowd gasp dramatically before he…"regained his footing".
Like playing a damn fiddle really. Easy to manipulate.
The way the crowd cheered when he twisted and managed to toss the bulky human over his shoulder…oh it was addictive. Their love positively poured into him. Freely given, willingly taken.
Admiration. Adoration. The sound of their claps and cheers and whistles. Humans loved so freely like that…it was amazing. Filling.
Wilbur fought to keep himself from grinning like a maniac as the Blade got up and swung a punch at him.
Wilbur let it land.
It didn't do much to him. Barely tickled.
Another reason he impersonated Blade specifically. Not only was he popular enough to have plenty of love directed at him for the changeling to feed on.
But a regeneration power is laughably easy to fake when you have chitin armor protecting under your disguise.
Now, don't get him wrong. He's not casting an illusion over himself.
No no no. He gains the full physical appearance of the person or thing he's mimicking. Right now he has the physical bulk of the hero. He has Blade's hair. His eyes. Even his silly little cape.
But he's still himself. Skin still reinforced by the strength of his true form.
It's why he felt more comfortable in shifts that were closer to his actual height.
Preferably with wings.
His back was starting to hurt, now that he thinks about it.
He was getting so love drunk his wings' cramping had been easier to ignore…but it wouldn't stop the pain for long. He'd have to resume his proper human disguise soon. He could hold his Blade disguise for a while longer but it would get more uncomfortable until he had to drop the shift and resume his true form.
Both him and The Blade jumped as an explosion rattled the city block. The shrill voice of an avian calling over the erupting chaos as smoke began to billow across the battlefield.
"Heya Blade! Hope you don't mind me crashing the party!"
Wilbur let a small chuckle slip by then.
If Blade didn't already have a nemesis. He swears, that chaotic little avian has a grudge the size of the continent. His disdain for Blade was potent in the air. Sitting on his tongue uncomfortably after that feast.
But Ace's shenanigans was as good a time as any to escape he supposes, blue fire erupting around him as he changed into something small to scuttle away and out of the smoke screen.
He bolted into a nearby alley as a centipede before shifting into a cat to hop up on top of a trash can. Intending to watch and make sure he wasn't followed.
Once he was sure nobody had noticed him, his shifting, or his fire, he hopped off the trash can and moved deeper into the alley. A flash of blue flame and he was, in essence, himself again.
Of course, his human form of flesh and feathers wasn't what he actually looked like. In fact, he had made his face and eyes similar enough to Blade to be jarring and more than a little disturbing. As if they were identical twins who walked different paths when they received different powers.
Wilbur missed having identical siblings. He misses his brothers and sisters. Even if he doesn't remember them all that well.
He still remembers the comforting buzzing of their insect-like wings. And the comforting ebb and flow of the hive mind that swirled in his head. He missed the rhythmic clockwork of their hive and warm, humid air.
The changeling sighed, stretching his feathered wings until he heard a satisfying pop.
It was weird. Having bones and joints in his wings that could pop. In the same way it was weird not seeing his skin covered by his natural armor.
But this form was his home, in a way. It was part of him.
Simply what he would like like as a human. With brown hair and brown eyes and a face eerily similar to Blade's more as an inside joke than anything. The wings were just a choice he made so no one would question his power in this form. That, and for comfort's sake.
It was easier on his real wings if he had them in a disguise. And if anyone questioned it too hard, he can always claim his shifting was a weird little extension of his power.
Magpies are known for vocal mimicry. Why not physical mimicry?
He waited for the fight to start picking up speed again before he flew off.
Unaware of a vigilante starting to tail him.
Wilbur liked to think he was good at staying pretty lowkey. The most high risk thing he does is impersonating a hero. But really, that's just what he has to do to survive. Yeah he could seduce random people on the street corner, but the kind of investment to get love out of a person was…not something he had the time for.
Most people wandering the streets that would take interest in him were looking for things that weren't love.
And he could never get enough when he tried that method. So he stuck with the mass crowds of adoring fans for his feedings. It was a lot more filling. And a lot easier for him then trying to charm a random stranger.
Besides, the Blade's fans ranged from adoring civilians who admired him for his work, to those that looked up to him, to the few fan girls screeching declarations of love. So many different kinds to feed on…
And the Blade cared for none of it.
In some ways, the changeling found that hilarious. Able to taste the hero's disgruntled mood whenever the screeching of a crowd got too loud.
But in other ways? It was a bit sad.
Why be a hero if you seemingly hate the job so much?
Eh. It wasn’t his business.
But yeah, other than that Wilbur considered himself a very discreet person.
So when he heard someone land behind him he had half a mind to just.
Fall.
Off of the roof.
And shift into a butterfly or something to fly off.
"You're the guy impersonating Blade, right?"
…butterfly idea just got moved from impulsive thought to half baked plan.
"Who's asking?" Wilbur questioned, slowly turning around.
Ace grinned back at him, arms crossed smugly, "The number six villain. That's who."
The changeling scoffed with an eye roll, "Don't peacock to me Ace. Your number in the ranks means nothing to me."
While the villain rankings were an interesting topic to him, they ultimately meant nothing. Just silly numbers assigned based on perceived threat. It was a stupid system on the Committee's end. But he wasn't there to criticize humans and their weird ways of doing things.
"Definitely not a hero then," the avian chuckled.
"What do you want?" Wilbur asked.
"General knowledge," Ace responded. "I'll ask again, you're the guy impersonating Blade, right?"
The taller raised an eyebrow, but smirked.
Oh…he really enjoyed showing off.
He really...really enjoyed showing off.
He enjoyed seeing both fear and awe when he shifted. There wasn't a single power in this world that could compare to him and his natural shapeshifting. Or his magic, for that matter. Even if he hasn't figured out much more than a few basic levitation tricks with his horn.
Dark blue flames licked at his form harmlessly, and not a second later he was wearing the Blade's face again. Lips split in that grin he had been wearing previously.
"Oh fuck quit doing that. Smirks don't look natural on that dumbass," the shrike laughed, clapping a little. "This is exciting. I've never seen such a convincing shift before; Loki can never get all the scars right. How long can you hold this for?"
"A few hours," the changeling replied casually, checking the nails of his Blade shift. "It gets uncomfortable after a while due to my wings."
He always made sure to double check that they were slightly chipped and uneven. Blade's hands were that kind that told stories of labor and hard fought battles, callouses from his fights and rescues, a few scars, his nails were chipped. And this shaky quality he had noticed over his weeks of studying the hero before trying to impersonate him.
Oh...he still remembers that first time fondly...his heart had been beating so fast despite all the hours of practice he had put in before...
"So it's not just illusion work?" The villain promoted.
Wilbur laughed.
He'd find it offensive if Ace hadn't seemed so genuine in the question.
"Illusions? Ha! I'll show you illusions!"
Another burst of blue fire erupted around him as he flapped the wings of a butterfly.
It got uncomfortable quicker holding small shifts like this. And he never felt secure in these forms since a light gust of wind could act as a tornado for him in that moment. But it was an excellent way to tail the people he was going to impersonate. And for general information gathering.
The shorter stared in vague awe and surprise. But there was a flicker of disbelief crossing his visible expression as he extended his hand.
Wilbur wished he could grin as a butterfly as he delicately landed on Ace's gloved fingertips. Watching the way the other's face shifted from skepticism to wonder.
"Amazing," he breathed.
The awe was palatable. Not love, not something he could truly feed on. But there was some admiration there…vaguely.
"What else can you do? Are your shifts limited?" The avian grinned widely, his fangs gleaming.
He wondered how carnivorous avians like him would react to the long fangs of his true form. It was always a question he had wondered. His claws aren't so different from their talons. Would they understand? Would they see his gossamer wings, buzzing little things, and feel a sense of kinship? Would they look at his chitin and be frightened seeing how they still look as if they were human? Or would they deem his body shape human enough to pass it off as simply 'a weird power'?
But there was other times for mulling over such matters.
The shifter fluttered out of Ace's hand, shifting midair and catching a draft to soar around as the magpie he had based his disguise's wings on. He then landed, flash of blue fire marking another transformation as he switched back to his Blade shift.
"I can be anyone, anything, anywhere, at any time," Wilbur stated proudly. "Of course, it does help to practice these shifts. And study the people I'm turning into. But give me enough time and there are limitless possibilities."
He didn't make a habit of informing people that he can't maintain shifts that are extremely different from his base form for too long. Luckily enough Blade was roughly around the same height as him and they had similar enough builds to pass, outside of the hero's bulk that is. Wilbur wasn't nearly that broad shouldered.
He then shifted back to his normal human disguise before tapping his chin, tilting his head at the avian.
There was another way he could show off here...
The changeling circled around the villain a few times, lifting one of the shorter’s wings to examine it before shifting to the other side to study that wing too. He also thought to check for any burn patches on the human's coat before nodding to himself.
Wilbur casually strolled back to center stage as another blast of fire consumed his form.
He walked out the other side as a damn near perfect copy of Ace.
The shrike whistled, now taking his own turn to circle and examine the changeling.
"Impressive, shifter," the villain grinned, starting to clap a little. "Mask and all."
"Yeah, of course the downside is that I can't magic details into existence."
He wished he could but his magic was pretty limited in that regard. Again, he only really had some levitation spells at his disposal.
He lifted the mask off of his face to show a perfectly identical side to the one always visible, "I'm assuming this isn't what you're hiding under that mask of yours. Nobody has a truly symmetrical face."
"Well hell, that's jarring," Ace muttered, hand briefly raising towards the other before lowering it forcefully. "I haven't seen my face… undamaged like that since I was a vigi."
"Ohoho. So the mighty Ace used to be a rogue hero, that's some fun trivia for bar nights," Wilbur cackled, running through his catalog of different wounds and scars. "So how bad is your face fucked up? Burns? Dagger wound? Acid?"
"Ha," the villain laughed without humor. "Nothing that exciting. Blade just took some broken glass and tried to gouge my eye out one time."
"Well that's one continent sized grudge explained," the taller snorted. "Can I see?"
"Why? Gonna steal my identity?" The avian teased. "... You can stop now, by the way."
"Mmmmnnnooo," the changeling drawled. "Show me the scar. I'm a perfectionist. It'll eat at me until I can get every detail."
Ace raised an eyebrow at him.
Wilbur raised it right back in an eerily similar fashion, matching the villain’s posture too for good measure.
It took a solid minute before the human broke into bubbly giggles that reminded him of that soda pop stuff he occasionally swiped from the store. It tasted like amusement. Maybe a little fondness.
The shrike stopped with a grin, "Alright alright. You're pretty good, I'll admit that. Tell ya' what, how about a small deal?"
He felt his real wings desire to buzz in interest. He shoved the urge into a more avian wing flutter, willing his feathers to puff up.
"I like deals," Wilbur hummed with a nod. "What's your idea?"
"Your name, my scar," the avian shrugged. "Seems pretty simple to me."
The taller…paused.
"You… want to know my name?" He asked.
"Yeah? Might as well, right? Not like you're going to go ratting me out to the heroes," Ace glared at him playfully, a grin quirking his lip. "Or at least I sure hope you aren't."
The changeling couldn't help a small bubble of laughter at that. The giggle sounded exactly like the avian’s earlier.
The shorter’s nose wrinkled at that, "That better not be what I actually sound like. If that's how I laugh, no wonder Foolish calls me a dork."
"It's cute," Wilbur dismissed with a wave of his hand, grinning at the look of irritation that crossed the human’s face. "Oh relax. It's endearing is what I mean. But I'll take you up on your offer, Ace. My name is Wilbur. And before you ask, no. I don't have a last name."
"Wilbur," Ace repeated. "Unique. Alright."
He hesitated only for a moment before taking the mask off of his face.
It was a wound alright. But somehow it almost complimented the shape of the avian’s face. Long and jagged, damaging the eye on the normally hidden side of his face into a milky white color.
The changeling hummed as he took in the discolored patch of skin and the damaged eye. He felt the way his disguise shifted as it accounted for the details he noticed.
The other's grin pulled at the scar a little, Wilbur accounting for the golden replacement fang in his mouth. He felt the fang in question shift to implement the replacement. Damn, had Blade carved the damn fang out of his mouth during the scuffle?
It left a metallic taste on his tongue. Slightly unpleasant.
But his instincts hissed happily at being able to match the other’s face.
Satisfied with the mimicry he dropped the disguise and returned to his default human self. Shifting larger wings with a mimicked avian purr.
"Better," he said. "You're lucky you have the face for a wound like that. It doesn't work against you and adds a kind of roguish charm."
Ace snorted, "Most complicated way someone's ever called me hot but sure. Whatever works for you, pretty boy."
Wilbur felt his brain screech to a halt, the instinctive urge for his wings to buzz quickly translating into fluffed out feathers in his avian wings.
"I… I'm sorry?" The changeling questioned.
"What?" The villain raised an eyebrow.
"Erm… pretty boy?" The taller muttered, voice trailing off and getting quiet by the time he managed to utter it.
His face was burning, he knew it was. He was going to combust any second now. What the hell did the human mean by that!?
"Yeah? Assuming that is your real face after all," the shorter purred with a smirk. "But if it's not, you got that cutie's number? I'd love to talk to him."
Ohhh he was going to light himself on fire at this rate. His face burned hot with embarrassment and flattery.
Technically it was his face. His form. He created this disguise to suit him best and what he thought he would look like had he simply been born human rather than changeling. He was comfortable in this skin. It was his after all.
Yeah he made himself look a little like Blade as a joke. But only because he shifted to look like the hero so much. Everything else was his own. So much so that traits like his hair and facial structure had started to weave itself into his chitin armor. Even his insect-like wings had grown to better match the size he had set in this form, even if he still couldn't fly nearly as fast in his real form as he could in this one.
Ace's grin got more broad as he stepped a little closer to the changeling, "That blush tells me that face you're wearing is your own."
Wilbur yelped with a small jump back, feeling his face flush even further as he realized his overreaction. Thankfully the other just seemed to find it amusing, bubble like chirps permeating the avian’s laugh.
"Okay," the taller mumbled, trying to get himself to relax and making an effort to smooth the feathers back down on his wings. "What do you want? I'm sure you didn't come here to just flirt with a shapeshifter. No one ever does."
"I know a few who would," Ace countered with a wink before slipping his mask back on. "But I suppose that no. I didn't come here to flirt. Maybe next time though."
"I more or less just wanted to put a name and face to the man who was able to put Blade on the defensive," the shorter said. "That's quite the impressive power you have. Valuable. Good for a lot of situations. And a lot of people would want to get their hands on it."
"Yourself included?" The changeling cautioned, taking a step back.
"Oh fuck no, one shapeshifter on my crew is enough for me," the villain laughed. "My staff has already launched each other using him as a slingshot before. I don't need anything from you pretty boy. Relax. I don't need shapeshifter duels in my casinos."
Wilbur winced. Able to imagine the chaos already. He faintly recalls a game, maybe even a sport, from his hive. A competition of sorts about who could make the best disguises.
It always got out of hand way too quickly for Mother to control.
"I see your point."
"I figured you would," the avian smiled. "Really I just wanted to establish contact and maybe establish an allyship of sorts."
"Allyship?" The changeling grinned.
There was always a weird little part of his brain that liked making deals, exchanges, contracts. He liked hashing out details and terms and having long discussions over how to proceed in certain situations.
It was an odd little instinct. One he didn't understand in full. But he was grateful he had it. Made him a skilled negotiator and strategist. What money he did make was normally sitting in on territory disputes between high ranking villains to play mediator and record terms and conditions.
Most people found the act boring.
He did so with a spring in his step and a buzz in his true wings.
He would probably do better as an info broker or an infiltrator, but mediators normally had a shit ton of protection and immunities in the underground channels that brokers and spies didn't. It made his work a lot easier, and a lot safer, even if the pay was more...steady than it was plentiful.
"What kind of allyship?" He questioned further. "That's a very important distinction to make before proceeding. Are you looking for something more concrete such as occasionally hiring me or perhaps a long term deal to solidify a partnership of sorts? Or are you looking for a very loosely defined 'I help you sometimes, you do me a few favors' arrangement?"
Ace blinked at him briefly before laughing a little. He did that a lot, Wilbur noticed. He'd probably have smile lines around his eyes when he got older if he laughs and grins this much in normal conversations.
"So should I assume you're also that villain mediator the other top ranks keep telling me about?" The avian asked.
"They pay me well for something my brain is really good at doing and keeping up with," the changeling shrugged, not seeing fit to mention that some villains pay better than others. "So? What kind of ally are you looking for? If you couldn't tell I'm pretty good at playing most roles assigned to me."
"Well… I do want something a little more loosely defined for the time being," the shorter hummed. "For now, at least. That might change in the future. Right now I just want to open a bridge for communication. And maybe extend an invite to you so you'll come visit my territories in town."
"Interesting proposition, but why?" Wilbur asked. "What reason do you have for wanting me to visit? Open communications is a good thing and I see plenty of logic in that idea. But why give me open visitation for your territories?"
The villain purred a little, "I'll admit, I kinda just want to get on your good side considering how strong your power is. Anyone who can go toe to toe with Blade and come out winning is an individual I'd like to stay away from the bad side of. But besides that, I want to give you somewhere you can run to if the Committee ever comes banging on your door. Because those fuckers will do whatever it takes to get you on their side and I don't like the lengths they're rumored to go to."
"Yeah the torture allegations is certainly a terrifying thought," the changeling sighed. "I suppose that makes sense though. Especially now with me knowing your face. But is that really all you want?"
"Eh. I also kinda just want Blade to keep freaking out because of your shenanigans. It was hilarious seeing him so rattled," the shrike chuckled. "Keep messing with him and confusing heroes like you do? And my door will always be open."
The taller blinked in disbelief for a second before just laughing.
Bright and loud in that way where he really couldn't stop it. Or the faint buzzing hum he hoped the other couldn't notice.
"Continent wide grudge again," Wilbur shook his head, amusement lighting up his senses. "Alright. That'll work. I look forward to the day you decide to hire me properly. Got any specific method of communication you prefer?"
"Whatever burner you have will suffice."
"Excellent."