A/N: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO TALON FROM MY OTHER STORIES! Yes, his name's talon, and yes he's got the deformed thing going on, but they are not the same. Just some oneshot I thought up. It actually has teh ability to become a full-fledged fic, but I'm working on two stories at teh saem time already.

This is a one shot, a monologue about Talon Ride.

I love reviews. I have sadly been deprived of those wonderful reviews lately. coughdoesno1likemyneckbreakerstoryanymore?cough. Review at will.

Disclaimer: I made this up. ITS ALL ME! That said, JP created some of the characters that are mentioned.

Flawed

Yo. I’m Talon. Ride. Yea, my last name’s Ride.

You’re probably all gushing about how I must be Maximum Ride’s son and all that. Then you’re putting two and two together and deciding who my dad must be.

Most of you will bet its Fang, aka Nick. You would be correct. Now a lot of you are probably like “Omg, Fang and Max got together and had a kid awwww”.

Yea, been through this so many times.

I’ve read the books and the fan fiction. I know how you all think. Unfortunately. Clicking on a rated M story was the worst day of my life.

I know you think everything is just soo soo perfect for me. Really, it’s my parents. After they blew itex sky high, everything just fell into place.

My dad was the perfect man. My mom the perfect woman. They fell in love, and had the perfect marriage. They got the perfect jobs, bought the perfect house, and their Flock was the perfect family.

Then my mother got pregnant, and they prepared to have the perfect child. But they didn’t get the perfect child.

They got not-so-perfect me.

I was the one flaw with their lives. It was obvious since I was born. See, I’m crippled. Deformed.

I’ll be more clear. My right hand. I have claws. Sorta. My parents both have hawk DNA. I guess I was meant to have hawkish talons. Except it didn’t work out.

One hand got talon-y, and all it did was make me deformed.

You can also say I lack skin. Well, there is some, but there are not enough layers, and the layers I do have are pretty thin. You can see all of the veins in my entire lower arm, and my skin is pinkish. It’s pretty gruesome actually. Covered by a custom made glove at all times, so I could look more normal. Ha. Normal.

I guess the bright side is that my hand is really strong. Can’t hold anything without breaking it. I broke my mother’s hand just by holding it to cross the street.

My deformity is only the beginning of my flaws. I’m not good at anything. Well, that isn’t true.

What I mean to say is that I’m not good at anything useful. Like fighting, or math, or english, or science, or sports.

I like art. Yup, my big talent.

My parents and their family spend their childhoods fighting people, surviving, and doing all those heroic things. And what do they spawn?

A useless, weak artist.

The only other thing I can really do is fly. But that’s inherited, a given since the day I was born. Doesn’t really count. Not in my family.

I mean, my aunt can read minds, talk to fish, breather underwater, and slightly shape shift. Flying is no big deal at all.

Oh, and we all know about how my dad was such a lady killer. My mom is meant to have been really beautiful too, still is. Shouldn’t two beautiful people have at least a slightly attractive kid? Obviously not.

Pretty much I’m saying I, Talon Ride, son of the infamous Fang Ride, am 16 and has yet to kiss/date/interact with a female. Dad was already kissing my mother all over the place at age 14. Not to mention he had all those fan girls.

I bet its cause I’m weird. I can’t help it, can I? I have wings for god’s sake. And I have a crippled arm.

I resent my parents. They got everything they wanted. How will I ever live up to that? I have never gotten what I’ve wanted. And I’m not talking about Christmas presents.

I want to do something. Not just stay in this hell hole of a city, and live a normal life. I don’t care how hard it is. I want to prove myself. I can live on my own. I don’t need my super-hero parents, or the rest of our freak family. I want to have my own story.

Which is exactly why I have to leave.

My parents are just sleeping, so happy and accomplished with their lives. Been married for 17 years and they’re still in love. Another thing my parents have that I don’t have. That I probably won’t ever have.

Maybe I’ll come back. If I do something worthwhile. If I do something important enough to be able to look my parents in the eyes. As equals.

In other words, I want to be a hero. Unlikely for someone as flawed as me, but I think I can do it. I have wings on my back. It’s like I’m destined to accomplish at least one thing that’s worthwhile. My arm? That’s just an obstacle. I’ll overcome it.

I’ll overcome everything. No one thinks I’ll amount to anything. I’ll prove them all wrong. There’ll be a book—no an epic written about me. And it all starts now.