Image Credits: lethe around 1983

Name: Not A Chicken

Gender: Male....?? (he/him but he's been known to lay eggs just to piss people off)

Age/DOB: unknown, the only indication of his age is a scribbled "HA!" on his Bioscan; he has definitely been around Twoarth and the Carramba / C4 area for decades now, and has always appeared exactly as he is above

Origin/Species: Discovered at The End at some point in the indistinct past / unknown species, while 'avian' or perhaps 'flighted' is obvious, beyond that, he is only clearly Not A Chicken; bipedal, with large clawed talons on feet; two wings that are leathery and not feathered, with three fingers (stiff but still able to manipulate) and a short wrist thumb all heavily clawed; body is somewhat duck-shaped, though the tail end is broad and flat, appearing more like a hummingbird's feathers only it's more or less solid; beaked head but also has pointed fleshy ears, eyebrows, and yes his beak has teeth as well... His body, upper legs, and wing limbs are furry, but very close suede in texture

Family: none known yet

Other: If you think that he's nonverbal just because all he yells is BWAKAWK! you have not listened to him saying it. Also he has been known to menacingly say 'cluck... cluck... cluck' to those he doesn't like

Height: around 6' at the top of his flattop, so yes he looks humans in the eye

Weight: much heavier than you'd expect a 'bird' to be, but because he's Not A Chicken that follows

Hair: Black, a strangely well-cut short flat-top style that goes to his mid-back, continues down to his ... rump? whatever end that is, and echoed down the middle of his chest/neck area. Also his eyebrows are huge and very expressive, almost cartoonish

Eyes: Dark brown, red tinted, small until you get him real angry at which point they are all you can possibly see

Appearance: his coloration seems to be somewhat flexible and he's been called 'red', 'brown', 'black', even plaid by various people trying to describe him, though usually is as shown - a very dark brown to black head, neck, body, hind, and upper legs; brown taloned lower legs and wing fingers as well as the fleshy bits of his ears; wingsails are pinker toward the fingers and darker brownish along the edge with a pretty distinct split of coloration; beak is yellowish cream and his teeth are brilliantly white when he shows them; claws are very dark brown. He has a smell that goes along with him but what that scent is may be dependent on whether he's been terrifying people or keeping them chill, ranging from burning hair or teeth, to 'lived-in woodsmoked chicken-coop'

Genetic Abilities: Winged Flight, though this does come at the expense of manual dexterity, he's never seemed to need thumbs or fingers on his wing hands since he has feet with opposed back claws. He's capable of hovering, backing up, doing some sick tricks in the air, but usually you'd see him perched in unusually inaccessable areas that he has landed on, or doing dive bomb runs over people he wants to annoy

Teleportation and Genrehopping, with short and long distance movement he can evade drones or helicopters, but often enough he'll just pop out in front of them to cause a bit of mayhem. His power to move between dimensions probably brought him to Twoarth in the first place, he definitely did not start out there, but no one has ever really tracked his energy back to a particular home dimension. It is unknown whether he can bring other people, packages, or larger items with him on either type of teleport, but it's very likely since sometimes SUVs will disappear and reappear several blocks away later on

Sonic Manipulation, we know he's fully capable of verbal communication, but there is always the echoing and gurgling and other noises that preclude a clear statement from his beak. He has been recorded, somehow, to 'sing', emulating local birds or dolphins, trumpets, crosswalk signals, sirens, and the like, even with that toothy beak closed.

Emotion Control, usually fear/intimidation or surprise is his favored tactic, and this can be versus one lonely alley-wandering person or an entire stadium of Blaseball fans. Sometimes out of the corner of your eye you'll see him sitting casually on the corner of the nearest building by the Speaker's Square at CHS, listening in on whatever debate is going on there, and no one's panicking or pointing at him - which would be the typical response. He does always give off 'a vibe', but whatever vibe that is seems dependent on his mood and nothing else

Least Logical Outcome, that element of surprise is actually just chaotic energy and he can throw physics under a bus when it realizes that he is Not A Chicken crossing the road at all. Whenever he is around, if someone else is utilizing any form of power that affects 'the universe at large' be it a scrying spell from the Magic Campus or a psionic power to change light values and color the room, or the use of sensitive equipment that has a lot of math behind it... if Not A Chicken is near enough, or just feels like affecting it, something unexpected will come from those things. Whether they're repeatable effects... who knows? He can and certainly does dampen this effect so it's not 'always-on', apparently he's trained up the locals to behave how he wants them to, and doens't always need to introduce newcomers to his chaos element... when he has superstitious witches or harried scientists ready to do it for him

Enhancements or Augmentations: Can eat anything. Literally anything. Pecking at bird seed in a park feeder, a well-done steak at a nice restaurant, a bag of garbage behind the nice restaurant, the garbage bin, an armored delivery truck picking up the bank bags next door, the vault door of the bank; he can simply consume it by pecking at it hard enough. It is also very possible that he can survive in deep space, under water, or in conditions that should not allow for any typical creature to live. His Genrehopping might be coupled with Reality Shifting, which would let him pick up various traits from other versions of himself, but we can't get anyone to follow him when he goes jaunting so no one knows for sure. We do know for sure that he shits and can clearly control it to be 'of whatever kind of ick substance needed' for his current mood or the area. Those missing SUVs? Sometimes it looks like an entire statue park full of pigeon shit has covered them. Other times we know he's let loose toxic gas or acidic spray, so just. Stay away from that end. Stay away from the front end too, since that's where the pecking starts.

Events or History:

"This reading can't be right, can it?" One of the techs assigned to this cleanup event held up his data pad and another walked over to confirm.

"Yeah, it's correct, just... y'know, keep your voice down. We," the coyote-kin glanced around sharply and lowered his voice as well as his muzzle and ears, "we don't want a repeat performance."

"Y.... you were there?" The first asked, human eyes going as wide as the coyote's.

"Yeah, dude. Look, when it says he's got 'Multiple Maximum Values' on the chart, they mean it."

While the human was still perplexed and doubtful, the serious demeanor of his coworker, as well as the actual condition of the area meant those values must be true.

Some may have been filled in more recently than others. He read the more detailed analysis of the... plasma? ectoplasm? acid spit? whatever it was that was covering the side of this otherwise-unassuming building in south-east Talon City, and it 'had to have come from a powerful single aperture used in a manner consistent with bird-cloaca expression'.

There was a diagram of the apparent source, drawn by some science hippy, but the outline made no sense. It was a chicken, right? Just - a big one, since the scale on the image said that 'bird-orifice was 3'7" off the ground and varied in direction indicating bird-hip motion'. He'd been to the zoo a few weeks ago, a regular-animal zoo, not a college campus, and there were definitely emu and ostrich and even a couple dodo there that might have been big enough for that to be the right spot for a butt, but...

"That's not a chicken," he whispered to himself, shivered, and put the data pad away. Back to work, but the mop heads kept dissolving in the goop that was strewn over the brick and mortar wall. "What prompted this?" He asked, and his coyote friend glanced up at the ruined doorway and melted windows.

"Retro meeting house, and whoever owns it is going to probably need the cleanup crew too, because apparently they'd been renting it out to both kinds of Retros every couple weeks."

"Profiting from racism," the human sneered, "that's low even for landlords."

Eventually when the crew had given up and the science hippies in charge of monitoring things came by, they added information to the data on that pad, updating some and checking other ratings. "Multiple Maximum Values" indeed. The cleanup worker didn't really know what exactly some of those things meant, nor how they came up with their rating system, but the Bioscan system was well-known ever since those kids down south started showing up from other dimensinos and outer space. They needed some way to keep track of abilities that might get out of control or, whatever. Unexpected shit from kids that needed help or criminals from another planet, either way. They could track them now, apparently, by what they shit out.

Dragon

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