The Phantom of the Paradise
A silly oneshot to explain anyone could fly with special assistance with one who is an expert on flying with wings (and not an aircraft). Winslow takes advice from Jane, Who could always fly with Her enormous dragon wings. Now with special training, do you think Winslow Leach would be able to fly?
And besides that, there are hardly any fanfiction pieces that include ANY part of the "Phantom of the Paradise"...and there.
Disclaimer: I do not own "Phantom of the Paradise" or anything about it, but I do own lots of other things in this. Now on with...the show. Now presenting "If Winslow Could Fly"!
If Winslow Could Fly:
When Winslow Leach was brought into The City Under the Sea he had soon begun his own radio talk show, known by the initials "WLKR" or "Winslow Leach's 'K'razy Radio" talk show. (If needed look for "The City Under the Sea's Radio" for any talk shows listed under "Winslow Leach") Soon enough he became fully accustomed to being at The City Under the Sea, until he came up with one thing.
"Ms. Unbreon," Winslow started one morning, "do you think that possibly people who listen to my talk show would like me better if I flew?" He adjusted his helm to the right spot to make it comfortable--Jane became slightly enraged, but She calmed after Her answer to him.
What She had said was this, "What made you come up with that idea, Sir Winslow?" He paced his room, walking right over wires that led to his record shaped table at the center. "You must have a good explanation for doing this." She slowly gritted her fangs in a way that meant annoyance, it gave him a quick answer to behold.
"Well...I don't know, but everything I have known is in my record stash. I'll look."
"So, the point is, you have NO thought on your thought?! Is that it?"
"Pretty much, Ms. Unbreon." Winslow called from a distance, going through his records and seeing no reasons for any of those he said. Water from outside poured through his window in a flash--he hadn't closed his window, since it was normally hot inside that room. Jane noticed on Her notepad as he came along the other day that he enjoyed heat--but that was by the looks of it. "I think I've found it."
"Really, now?" She said, looking and sounding bored with sarcasm with any of his requests. He requested his own radio station, and he got one. Wasn't that good enough? He seemed not to think so of it. "Do you think if you flew you'd find something different to think about? First you want your own radio station, now you want to fly--what is wrong with you?" This is not going to go well.
He took out the record holder from his top shelf on the bookcase, and revealed a black disc that resembled a large DVD with nothing on it but black. He nodded incidentally to Jane and went to put the disc into the record player. Jane stood, facing to the floor with arms crossed and legs in diverse positions, and Winslow broke her silence with a loud screech from his record player. "Sorry, the player needs to be fixed, You gave me an old one.", he said beginning to play the record with high enthusiasm, as usual with him. "I recorded it recently, during one of my morning talks with friends. Here:"
Do you, Miss Garuda (speaking of Sophie), think you'd like me better if I flew intead of keeping myself 'grounded' for the rest of my eternal life?
What exactly does that mean, Mr. Leach?
(to his staff and crew) (What does that mean? Oh, okay then.) Well, I don't know, I've always wanted to fly with my own wings- I've even asked Phoenix to fly with me and she says she can't fly. She's human, so am I!
He takes the spike from the record and sets it aside, Jane was facing towards the window, sighing heavily due to the consiquences of IF he wanted to fly. Winslow came to the same window, putting his hads on it's sill. He put his head lying against the molding of the glass window with water pouring outside, and watched as the water pushed downward with tons of pressure upon itself. It seemed like he deemed it as a lake filled with amazing creatures in it. He glanced toward Jane as She stood against the wall next to the window. "If you want to fly, Winslow, you're going to need a professional...and you already have One."
"Who? I don't remember consulting a proffesional, I only remember to talking with Miss Garuda." Winslow yawned silently covering his mouth with his gloved palm and setting it back to his side. Jane faced away during this part as he yawned. "I don't know why, but I'm quite tired of moving around so much. I normally had to rewrite my cantata, I sat at my table for days--only thinking about Phoenix."
"Well, stop yawning then and get to work."
"You'll help me?"
"Of course--anyone who wants to fly needs wings. By the look of it, you want to fly like a bird."
"Why...okay, a bird it shall be." Winslow began to feel like a bird, feathers on his elbows and tail feathers. The head didn't change, he already looked a like a bird. "I feel like I am a bird, flying high into the clouds of the bright sky."
"You're starting to look like it. Your head to the bird stays like it is now--you already looked like a bird from there, Sir Winslow." Jane searched around; he looked like a human-bird to Her and he felt like a human-bird. "Jump."
"Are you serious, birds don't jump. They leap!"
"Jumping are leaping are the same thing, Sir Winslow, you can't tell a difference. Now hop!"
"But you just said 'jump'--" Winslow was interrupted by his Instructor, with a half smack over his face--mask!--and it hurt. He complyed to the request, and began leaping, he used no force from his feathered arms. "What am I doing wrong, I can't fly?"
Jane sighed and ordered him to stop jumping around, soon She began to tell him he needed to flap his wings in order to start flying. But he began wondering how Jane could fly--it sturmped him clueless to the thought that he couldn't think anymore. She didn't have bird wings, She had dragon wings, larger force and speed than alot of things that he never knew would exist. She was almost faster than that of the fastest vehicle on Earth, Oragno, and Temnivia! Winslow took note that Her dragonic wings were what he needed to start flying. But as he thought about it, he heard a slight noise coming from his intercom- Sophie! She must've loved him to call so much. She was on the radio talk show almost everyday, talk about obsessive over the Phantom of the Paradise!
(in an electrical voice) Winslow Leach here, reporting live at the "WLKR" station. What do you need Sophie Garuda?
(slightly enraged) Where are you? You were supposed to be here at the Tropic Island Cafe in Afora, and you're late!
Oh come now, Sophie, I have work to do and I know that you're angered about my absense but you'll just have to work with it, please. Winslow out. (ends the conversation by hanging up)
Winslow sighed and pressed the button to make the call get hung up, beginning to lay down on the record-shaped table but being nudged by Jane. "I'd say you need something of caffeine to stay away and fly--"
"I'm not tired, I woke up two hours ago. I--" Winslow was interrupted by another yawn, "--I'm not tired is all."
Certainly sounds like it. "Come, we've no time to waste, if Sophie wants you in the city of Afora by a time soon, then this should be a good exercise for your new wings." As he dragged himself along from the table he collapsed onto the floor, sleeping. The only way to get him up was literally by kicking him, and with Her claws on those feet, She decided not--they'd really puncture him instead of hurting. Jane sighed, and took him up onto Her back with great ease, She shook Herself as a way of means to get him awake simply. It failed. "Winslow!!"
He immediatly slid from Her back in an alert mood, "Winslow Leach, reporting for Lieutenant--oh nevermind, it's You. Now what?" he spoke in a soft voice that normally meant he wasn't feeling too well about this. He sounded almost bored...too bored. Normally he's enthusiastic, like trying to fly. And so far he hasn't flown yet, Jane was doubting it. Her reasons were impedent, like the fact that Winslow couldn't fly because he had penguin flippers. I feel so heavy all of the sudden, I wonder why. Winslow glances down to see himself a half of a penguin. "I'm a penguin!"
"You don't like penguins, Sir Winslow? I think I have another look for you, it's called the ostritch, it's tall like you." Jane glanced forward to the metallic mask that covered Winslow's scarred face.
He just had to interrupt, he knew what an ostritch was. "No, not another flightless bird."
"The emu then?"
"Alright already, Winslow. What about you?"
"I'll go with the crow, seems quite fitting." With a simple wave of Her claw, he immediatly turned into a half of a crow.
"Now, Winslow, stop crying and get moving!" Jane pushed Winslow outside his room and he jumped to get out, the wings weren't working so far. As She grabbed onto him, She shot him away with a fierce intensity that almost made him FLY! Instead of flying, he was slamming the ground, skidding his cape to a wall made of a hard cinderblock. Winslow managed to get to his feet, but he stumbled more often than he should've. He shook the debris from his shoulders and slid over to where Jane had been awaiting him.
"Oh, I see stars and birds, flying across the midnight scape~" he began to sing as he fell once more.
Jane nodded once more as grabbed onto him, screeching nearby his covered ear. "Winslow!!"
He answered shyly, but he answered whilst pointing, "Onward!!"
"I'm not flying for you. You are." Jane threw him from Herself and he tried jumping around by flapping his wings. He continued to fail.
"Fly like a bird, Winslow, fly!" he yelled to himself happily, when Jane ended his happiness quickly with a sigh of disbelief, along with a nod, he tried again. Only remembering he was trying to get somewhere, he ran, trying to fly once more.
"Believe you can fly, and you can fly. Get moving, Slow-win." Jane no longer spoke for the rest of Her time with him going out from the City Under the Sea. With him, it was always hard to keep a straight face, because he was always doing something.
After a while, for several long moments, Winslow was jumping so hard that almost Jane was hurt by his enthusiasm. No wonder so many happened to call him annoying. Her dragonic wings were spread and She flew on so fast across large prairies that none had seen Her. Anyone who watched would know that Winslow was tired flapping his wings and running. He stopped at a nearby rock and panted heavily due by fatigue and a great power of exhaustion (it's a good thing he wasn't stuck with 'runner's asthma' like I). He laid by the rock for moments on end, his mechanical voice had long gone without a wire to take energy from.
He had stolen a chocolate brownie the day before and hadn't eaten it yet, so he took it from his small pocket and unwrapped. He took the preserver and put it back into his pocket, beginning to enjoy the brownie when Jane caught him with it. Now to enjoy you and--
"Winslow, I should've realized that you'd taken this delicacy into your own hands...you should've asked Me first. Get moving, remember that you are late."Just after She ended Her sentence, Her cell rand in a dark tone. That rightone was known to him-but never had seen it or heard it play in an instrumental solo. "Now what is it?"
"May I speak with Winslow please, if he's near?"
"Yes Sophie, I shall comply. Winslow it's for you." She said whilst handing the phone to Winslow, into his trembling hands and shaky voice.
"H-hello?" he asked to the phone, as it answered back in massive anger.
"Where are you?!", as she said this he held the phone back from his covered ear, her anger rising each passing moment.
"I am...where am I Jane?"
"Outside the outskirts of Tragonahdon."
"You better get here soon, Mr. Leach! My patience has run dry!" Sophie hung up and left him hanging on a long branch suspended over an ocean of maelstroms and waterspouts. He trembled massively before staggering to his feet through vain consequences. Once more, he took the brownie and just unceremoniously stuffed it into his mouth. As he swallowed, Jane grappled his hand and dragged with Her all the way to the city of Afora. They spoke nothing along the way, and seemingly Winslow was suspiciously silent...too silent. It was deemed by Her that he was gone from sight, and as She turned to glance behind, Winslow was right in Her face, strangely too close. But he wasn't looking towards Jane, apparently, but he was gazing at the endless plains that they covered. Jane eventually stared away to see where She was heading off to, Winslow very close behind. She could hear him trying to leap, and as the sounds ended, She looked behind Herself once more and found he wasn't there. She glanced farther, but no. Up...Jane saw colorful flapping wings through the soft morning sky, hearing him singing "I Believe I Can Fly".
Jane flew fast to reach his height and made it beside him; they were still very silent to each other...okay, he was not. He never stood still, always fidgeting with something. Either it be his hands or cloak...
"There you are, Winslow Leach, do you know how long I waited for you to get here?!" Sophie screeched at him, with him cowering at one street light pole in Afora. "Come on, everyone's late now and then, you just have to realize that not every time you are, you're sinisterly beaten down for it.", she said happily as she went over to him just when he curled into a soft ball. She meant no harm to him. He stayed curled, until Sophie playfully nudged him and held her hand out to him. "Winslow, would you like to walk with me?"
He finally let go of himself and stood triumphantly, passing her height completely. "Do you think you'd want to be seen with a tall, daunting man who had his face smashed by a record press?"
"Worth the risk, Winslow--do you mind if I call you Winslow?"
"Of course I do!"
"Really?" she mumbled dully in reminder that she was with an all-enthusiastic and sadistic radio playing Phantom of the Paradise.
"No, you may call me Winslow, that name suits me." he gestured in relief so that he no longer worried about getting to Afora and severly pummeled to a great extent. Before he continued to speak, he took yet another chocolate brownie and indulged it so quickly that Sophie even thought he hadn't done anything. He begun to speak the mechanical voice that enraptured him entirely, sighing, his gloved hands to his face. "Sophie," Winslow began, "Let's walk by that boardwalk...something compells me to do so with you."
Sophie nodded, joining Winslow to his walk across the boardwalk along the tropic beach. Many were there during the morning, so it was quite crowded--not to mention it was the most popular beach on the whole continent of Merof! "Someplace so crowded in the morning, the beautiful sunsrise." (that's the way it's spelled, since Oragno's system holds two suns and not an individual), Sophie mentioned slightly on wits. Standing near a man so tall was worth the attention of the many people there at Afora. Especially a man with wings. "Winslow?", he stopped without turning.
"Why do you have bird wings?"
"..." he breathed, throughout the moment he stayed silent, but the mechanical voice continued with dark happiness, "I've already told you that I wanted to fly. Fly like a bird."
"Well, you were right. I just want to see you fly is all..." Winslow was never stubborn to take a request, he just flew upward to the top of a duo-hotel complex. But on the way of trying to reach the rooftop he could no longer fly, so he fell backward and landed in the arms of Sophie. "Well, you flew.", she sighed relieved of the fact he was saved through the nick of time.
"Thank you, Miss Garuda." he hops from her arms like nothing happened and continued moving along. Sophie sighed once more and continued on with him, deep within thought.
After hours of being in Afora, it became time for the show to finally begin. At a dinner theater were they, watching intently. Winslow could only see through one eye so he watched as much as possible with his lasting sight-tract. This could've been counted as one of the most fantastic dinners Sophie OR Winslow have ever had, they didn't mind it though. Soon after the show had ended, Sophie was very joyous to have seen that play for Faust. Winslow...not so much. No wonder he gave the duo of tickets away, he didn't want to become captured into yet another predicament. So before he began watching, he closed his eye and fell asleep on the table. Sophie rolled her eyes as she picked him up and awakened him from a deep slumber, she did not yell, but she nudged him playfully once more. It was almost 10:00AM (AM is nightfall time, when PM is daylight time. Each of these is opposite, see?) when they'd gotten back to the City Under the Sea.
"That was really good, Winslow, thank you!" Sophie smirked joyfully and turned to her room, just when the taller male ended her tracks with a hand on her shoulder.
"...you're welcome, Sophie." Winslow turned away and walked into his room, when she rushed towards him with the intensity of one thousand horses. "Now what?"
"I can't stand being alone--could you sleep with me?"
Winslow was awestruck and shocked to the point that he almost fainted, he'd never been asked for anyone to be sleeping with him. By those standards, he never answered a question like that before...until now. His eye wide by shock and awe, his mechanical voice unknown of what to say. "I-I uh..."
"Oh come on, Winslow! Trust me, it's going to be quite fun!"
"If...if-if you insist--"
"Awesome!" she called whist grabbing his hand and dragging him into her room without his true will to truly do so. "See?"
Winslow slowly stepped into her room, trying to fly out of it. He attacked the wall, and crushed one of the records she had suspended on her wall--Faust. No wonder she enjoyed Faust, she's a fan of it!
"Winslow, that was my favored record! I really don't like what you're doing--"
"I don't like that Faust, only my cantata for it!!" Sophie went up to the wall and grabbed onto him, he struggled to get free.
She answered a with a slight bit of hissing at him, "You made Faust, why don't you like it?"
His mechanical voice struggling to be heard but very weak, but apparently he had failed on doing so. "He stole my music--!" Soon after he screeched that, a scream was heard to a diameter of five rooms. He ran outside the room and flew to the ceiling in fear of popularity.
Moral of the Story: Do NOT give Winslow wings, even when he asks for it...everything happens.