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Hawks swooped into the abandoned house he was currently residing in. He was careful to land softly, for he was too far into his plans to mess up now. Ever since Twice had allowed him life, he had a burning resentment for the league. And himself, he thought. Hero Hawks was annoying, cocky, loud, brash, and slutty (because Hawks was fairly certain he had seen Hawks in a strip bar once. He was not the one watching.)
Hawks carefully slipped in and out of the couch and various other pieces of furniture he had stolen. It made the house feel more.. Home-y, no cozy. It also hid the darker side of the abandoned building.
The winged-man pushed his way into his study. He hissed as he realized his arm had begun to melt. He held his arm before it returned to normal. As the stronger between him and his clone brother, (who was, to be fair, much more alike to hero Hawks than Hawks.) he had survived the battle with Giran’s goons. He would avenge his comrade by killing Hero Hawks and taking his place in the league.
He slammed his hand against the bulletin board, almost sending the nearest photo of his hated enemy (himself) to the floor.
“..according to my calculations.. The league should be inhabiting right about.. HERE.” He cackled. He had finally found himself. Not spiritually. He already knew what would become of him if he stubbed his toe a little too hard.
He was going to avenge himself by killing himself and taking his place. (It makes sense, don’t judge him)