◆ Biography ◆
Felipe, one of the most revered figures in Budgieberg's history, a fierce protector whose courage and unyielding resolve helped safeguard the city during its most vulnerable years. As commander of the Battlestar Budgies, a small but dedicated group of skilled flyers trained in coordinated defense, he became the city's primary shield against the monstrous threats that prowled the edges of the central continent. He also shared hosting duties on Parakeet Talk, the broadcast network Valentina had established, using his clear, steady voice to deliver warnings, share scout reports, and keep the community connected even when danger loomed close.
Felipe began his life much like any other budgie in the Blue Cage. Raised among the structured nests and communal feeding stations, he spent his early days learning the essentials of survival: How to read wind currents, spot distant silhouettes against the sky, and practice evasive maneuvers in tight formation. The Blue Cage was no gentle nursery; elders drilled the young relentlessly, knowing the planet's dangers left no room for weakness. Felipe stood out early for his relentless drive. He flew longer patrols, returned with sharper observations, and never hesitated to take the lead when mock threats appeared. His feathers, a bold mix of bright yellow face mask and deep blue body streaked with black markings, made him easy to spot in the air, a living banner of determination.
His transformation came on a clear night when the stars seemed unusually restless. Felipe had taken a late patrol alone, gliding over the treetops to check the outer perimeters. A brilliant streak cut the darkness, not a simple meteor but something alive with strange energy. It was one of the rare Hoops of Power, objects said to have fallen from another universe beyond Androvalis long ago. The streak struck the ground near him with a low, resonant boom. Felipe approached cautiously, drawn by an instinct he could not explain. When he touched the glowing remnant, light erupted around him, flooding his small form with searing heat and impossible strength.
The change was immediate and overwhelming. Pain ripped through every muscle and bone as his body adapted. His wings grew stronger, capable of sudden bursts of speed that left trails of disturbed air. His beak and talons hardened, striking with force far beyond natural limits. Wounds that should have crippled healed in moments, flesh sealing with faint pulses of inner light. Most remarkable was the aura he could now summon: a shimmering field of energy that wrapped his body, sharpening his strikes and allowing him to channel focused blasts of force. He did not become invincible, but he became something far deadlier than any ordinary budgie, a living weapon forged by accident and necessity.
Felipe tested his new gifts almost immediately. A pack of hulking, shadowy lookinh hounds had been stalking the fringes, drawn by the scent of the Blue Cage's flocks. He met them head-on. His first strike shattered a thick skull with a wet crunch, brains and blood splattering the leaves. Another lunged; He met his open maw mid-air, driving talons into his throat and tearing outward in a spray of arterial red. The survivors scattered, howling, leaving mangled corpses behind. From that night forward, his reputation spread quickly. He no longer fought as one among many; He fought as THE vanguard, the one who met the worst threats so others could live.
Under his command, the Battlestar grew into a tight-knit unit. They practiced better aerial formations, learned to use natural cover, and carried small sharpened tools scavenged from fallen branches and stones. Felipe led them against encroaching horrors: Massive, eel-like creatures that slithered from the coastal shallows, packs of toothed beasts with hides like cracked bark, lone titans that crushed trees underfoot. Each battle left scars. He once dove straight into the jaws of a serpent three times his length, ripping at its soft palate until it convulsed and collapsed, blood pouring from its ruined mouth. Another time he tore through a swarm of clawing vermin, aura flaring to blast them apart in bursts of shredded flesh and broken limbs. His tally of kills rose steadily, each one a grim necessity to keep the city safe.
The greatest trial of Felipe's life came not from the familiar monsters of Androvalis, but from something far stranger and more malevolent. It began with faint tremors in the air, a wrongness that scouts reported along the distant shores where the ocean met the continent. Then came the rift: A jagged tear in the sky that bled unnatural colors, spilling an oily darkness onto the sand. From that wound stepped Plush Tails, a twisted mockery of life. He was an animated fox plush, its fur matted and stained, his eye glowing with cold, hateful light. Twin tails flicked behind him like living whips, dripping something black and corrosive. It served a greater entity known as Plush Sonic, a demon of pure malice that sought to consume worlds and reshape them in its image.
Plush Tails wasted no time. He moved with horrifying speed for something so soft in appearance, tearing into a coastal outpost before dawn. Felipe arrived to find a horrible sight of nests shredded, feathers scattered like snow, and small bodies broken and lifeless. The sight ignited something primal in him. He launched himself at the intruder without hesitation. The first clash was savage. Plush Tails lashed out with its tails, the barbs.. his own chains, being used as a weapon, slicing deep into Felipe's side, tearing flesh and drawing a sharp spray of blood. He countered with a burst of aura, talons raking across the plush's chest. Stitching split open, dark stuffing burst forth in clumps, yet the wound began to knit almost instantly. Plush Tails only laughed... this disgusting, wet, gurgling sound that echoed inside Felipe's skull.
They fought across the beach and into the treeline. Felipe used every advantage he had, darting low to avoid the whipping tails, then surging upward to drive his powerful sharp beak into the plush's shoulder. Fabric tore with a sickening rip; He yanked hard, pulling free a chunk of animated core that pulsed like diseased meat. Plush Tails shrieked and retaliated, slamming him into a tree trunk hard enough to crack bark and splinter bone. Pain flared white-hot through his wing, but he refused to yield. Aura flared brighter around him, sharpening into a blade of light. He closed the distance in a blur, slashing repeatedly across the fox's torso until the body sagged, threads unraveling, dark essence leaking in thick rivulets. With a final, desperate plunge, Felipe buried his beak in its throat and tore outward.
Felipe's victory over the first clash felt hollow the moment he saw the torn fabric knitting itself back together yet again. He had ripped the bastard apart, stuffing flying all over the place like it was his organs, and yet still, Plush Tails pulled himself upright, tails twitching, eyes burning brighter. The enforcer laughed that wet, gurgling laugh again and lunged back in, faster, angrier. Felipe met it blow for blow, aura blazing, but exhaustion was creeping in. Every strike he landed felt like it cost more than the last.
But all of a sudden Sofia, Felipe's partner and fellow Battlestar member, arrived. She streaked across the battlefield like a comet, improvised blades strapped to her wings, screaming his name. Relief hit him so hard it almost knocked the wind out of him. Together they pressed the attack, he drawing aggro with heavy aura bursts, she darting in to slice at joints and seams. For a moment it felt possible. For a moment they were winning.
Plush Tails adapted. He quite literally bitchslapped at Felipe and sent him flying into the walls of a nearby building, then suddenly whipped both of his tails around in a blur and caught Sofia mid-dive. The barbs began to sink deep into her wings. She shrieked, a sound Felipe would hear in his sleep for the rest of his life. Plush Tails then grabbed her by his hands, and began to deliberately pull her apart. Feathers and blood rained down. She thrashed, beak snapping uselessly. Felipe screamed but was too weak to move, his grip tightened, lifting her higher, out of reach. He could see the deliberate cruelty in it, the way it mimicked something he had suffered himself, turning the pain outward.
Sofia's eyes then met his across the distance. Not fear. Resolve. In one smooth motion she twisted something on her chest. Something known as the P.L.V. Bomb, the energy of Felipe's most powerful attack multipled in the form of a weapon. She had it hidden behind her feathers this entire time. Felipe's stomach dropped. He knew what it meant.
White light swallowed everything.
The shockwave hurled Felipe backward. When his vision cleared, the ground was a smoking crater the size of a small town. Sofia was gone. Completely, utterly gone. Plush Tails lay in the center of the devastation, body shredded open, glowing chains snapped and scattered like broken jewelry, stuffing charred black, twitching weakly.
For the first time the enforcer did not rise. He curled in on himself, trembling, making small, broken sounds. They were sobs. His eyes, were wide and wet and terrified. He looked at Felipe who was flying over slowly, like a child begging not to be hurt again. Then, impossibly, he turned and limped away, dragging himself toward the cliff edge, fleeing on his own broken will.
Felipe watched it go for one heartbeat. Two. Grief and rage collided inside him until there was nothing else left. He launched forward in silence. One final strike. It was clean, merciless. His talons and beak connected at the neck. The head came free with a wet tear, blood fountaining dark and thick. The body pitched forward, tumbling over the cliff and into the lake below. The water took it without protest. No glow rose back up. No second wind. It was over.
He stood at the edge, staring down at the still surface, chest heaving, aura flickering out. Sofia was gone. Half the city was gone. The rift had closed in the blast, but the silence that followed felt louder than any battle. Victory had arrived, but it wore Sofia's absence like a wound that would never close.
He flew back to the city slowly, wings heavy, aura reduced to a faint, unsteady shimmer. Survivors crawled from shelters and rubble piles, beaks parted in shock, eyes searching his face for the partner who should have been flying beside him. When they saw only Felipe, they understood without a word. No one shouted her name. No one needed to. The hole she left was already louder than any scream.
The Battlestar Budgies reformed around him out of muscle memory and grief. Fewer now. Gaps in the formation where familiar wings used to be. Parakeet Talk never returned. The old antennas stood like tombstones, collecting only wind. Felipe's voice, once so clear and steady on the broadcasts, stayed locked in his throat for months.
He flew longer routes alone, pushing deeper into the Outer Rim than necessary, meeting every lingering threat and ending them just to let out his anger. His sharp salons splitting open skulls, his aura blasts vaporizing packs of shadow hounds without a second thought, bodies left smoking in his wake. The kills were messy, even more brutal than usual. The fire that used to drive them had cooled to something colder, more contained.
Years turned. The city healed in layers, new growth over old burns, hatchlings learning their first glides in the Blue Cage once more. Felipe aged the way immortals do, not in feathers or flight, but in the weight behind his eyes. He trained the young when they asked, patient and low-voiced, showing them the same evasive loops Sofia once flew flawlessly. He never spoke her name during drills. The fledglings learned it anyway, from elders' hushed stories, from the way his gaze lingered on empty sky when a formation mirrored hers too closely.
Then, Luna arrived.
When the Hoop found her later, he reached the impact site before anyone else. The crater still smoked; She stood trembling in its center as the glow faded from her feathers, the planet seeming to lean toward her, acknowledging a new force of nature. He recognized the stunned expression. He had worn it himself, long ago. He landed beside her without fanfare.
"You touched it, now it lives in you."
Luna met his gaze, and nodded once. No awe. No fear. Just recognition. He mentored her the way he had once mentored Sofia, though the lessons scaled to match her impossible strength. Where he cracked mountains, she gouged to the mantle. Where he broke sound, she grazed light itself. But raw power without discipline was just another monster waiting to happen. So he taught her discipline.
Dawn patrols on the high crags. He showed her how to read intent in the smallest twitch of muscle, the flicker of an eye, the shift of wind across feathers. How to channel speed into surgical strikes instead of cataclysm. How to lead without crushing the ones who followed. Nights they perched together on the scarred broadcast spire, city lights flickering weak below, and he told her the quiet things. Not just battles. Sofia's laugh slicing through storm static. The way she once stitched his torn wing with thread pulled from a ruined nest while mocking his landing form until he cracked a reluctant smile. Luna listened, green feathers ruffling in the breeze, never interrupting. She never asked why he shared these pieces. She understood they were anchors.
The planet moved on around them. Demons stayed gone after Plush Tails. Smaller horrors still crawled from jungles and rifts, hulking things with hides like cracked obsidian, eel-serpents from the shallows, but nothing matched the old scale. Until the day the sky tore open wider than any wound before.
The mothership emerged from hyperspace without prelude, a black monolith swallowing daylight. The Shadow Federation. The name carried the weight of vanished scout reports and Sofia's old, half-forgotten warnings. Within hours black-furred bear clones rained down in armored pods, carving through the Outer Rim, leaving only craters and silence behind them. Felipe rallied what remained of the Battlestar. His voice still cut clean through chaos.
Luna flew at his wing. They fought as they had trained. She folded dropships inward with single strikes, shockwaves scattering squads like dry leaves. He flanked, aura blades carving through the soldiers, guiding civilians to shelter block by block. For a handful of minutes it felt almost like the old days... Impossible odds, but the city still standing.
Then silence dropped like a guillotine. Midnight pressed in. A beam lanced down from the mothership, cold and merciless. Vireya stepped into its glow. Yellow fur. Cape whipping in thermal updrafts from burning streets. Eyes like dead stars.
The last of the army and Battlestar charged. They vanished in a single sweep of celestial energy, bodies flashing to ash mid-flight, screams snuffed before they began. Half the district collapsed in the backlash, stone folding inward. Felipe and Luna reached her together. She regarded the two small birds hovering before her, calm, almost curious.
Felipe struck first, he attempted a low dive, aura lance sharpening to a piercing point aimed at the hamstring joint. Vireya's paw swept through the arc like a falling monolith. The impact rang like thunder; he spun wildly, crashing through a ruined wall, bones shattering on impact, wing struts snapping, ribs caving, blood spraying from his beak in dark arcs. Regeneration flared, painful pulses of light knitting flesh, but he rose shaking, eyes locked on her.
Luna accelerated to near-lightspeed, green comet slamming into Vireya's chest. The collision erupted, the shockwave cratering earth, fissures racing outward like lightning in stone. Vireya staggered two steps, blood welling from a gash across her torso. She snarled, summoned Starcleaver, her celestial hammer blazing with trapped starfire, and swung. Space warped around the arc. Luna twisted free by millimeters, air igniting in her wake.
Felipe flanked, blasting her shoulder. Smoke rose. She roared, with reality seemingly fracturing, light splintering. Luna punched through the warp, cracking jaw, teeth scattering in bloody spray.
Hours dissolved into ceaseless violence. Luna's fists hammered ribs until bone gave wetly beneath fur, organs compressing inside Vireya's massive frame. Felipe's blades carved deep, her blood spilling onto the ground. Vireya's lasso snared him, it's chains burning through his own aura, constricting until bones ground. Luna tore the lasso apart beak-first, but Vireya's backhands her brutually as she pushes through and takes flight higher than before as Vi jumps into the air to fight her.
Felipe watched from above, something deep inside of him told himself that this could be the end of his life. He met his match. He grew tired, but, he was still determined.
When they were on the ground yet again, Felipe pressed the attack silently, diving low to strike at her thigh with an aura blade sinking deep into the joint, her bone splintering with a sharp crack. Blood poured down her leg, but she stomped down. A shockwave erupting outward, hurling him into a hillside. Rock pulverized around him, his body embedding in the crater, his regeneration was starting to finally give out on him.
Vi proceeded to focus on him. The lasso caught Felipe again. His ribs cracked like dry twigs, blood bubbling from beak. Luna tried to invervene, but another bitchslap did the trick, she barely had time to react as it smacks her shoulder and breaks her arm completely.
Felipe broke free in one last, desperate twist, talons severing the chains with a shower of sparks. The air between them crackled with everything they had left. No words. Just a shared glance, mentor and protégé, the way Sofia once looked at him across a battlefield, and they moved as one.
Felipe flanked low, aura blasts lancing out in perfect sync, each one piercing Vireya's body like needles seeking the heart of a storm. Luna streaked straight for her face, green wings a blur, talons sinking deep into the warlord's chest. Fabric and flesh parted under the force; She carved downward with merciless precision, ripping open a raw, gaping cavity. The wet, rhythmic thump of Vireya's heart lay partially exposed, pulsing in the open air, dark blood fountaining in thick, arterial arcs that painted the night red.
Vireya's paw snapped forward, claws punching through Luna's sides in twin bursts of agony. The green budgie's body jerked, blood bubbling at her beak, but she held on, talons still buried deep.
In that suspended heartbeat, Felipe's entire life flashed before his eyes.
The Blue Cage at dawn, elders barking drills while he practiced loops until his wings trembled. Sofia's laugh cutting through the roar of a storm as she patched his torn feathers with clumsy stitches and worse jokes. The night the Hoop found him, pain so bright it felt like love. Every patrol, every kill, every quiet moment perched on the broadcast spire watching the city breathe beneath them. He saw Sofia one last time... The look she gave him across the distance before she triggered the bomb. A promise that he would keep going.
He understood now. This was it. The same choice. The same love.
Felipe launched without hesitation. His aura blade ignited brighter than it ever had, every ounce of his immortality poured into one final thrust aimed straight for Vireya's throat. He flew not to survive, but to end it. For Sofia. For Luna. For the city that had given him everything worth dying for.
But sadly for him, Vireya's other paw closed around him mid-air. The grip was absolute. Bones cracked in a sickening, wet chorus, his ribs folding inward, his wings crumpling like paper, spine giving with a final, muffled snap. Pain flared white, then dulled to nothing. His small body folded lifeless in her massive hold, beak parted in a silent gasp, aura winking out like a candle snuffed by wind.
She opened her paw. His remains tumbled free, his blue feathers scattering slow and gentle across the blood-soaked ground like fallen petals after rain.
Felipe was gone. The quiet end of a bird who had spent his whole life shielding the ones he loved, until the very last heartbeat belonged to them.
