I used my power to control every movement.  I felt it accelerate again, and tilted our orientation.

Niiice. It doesn’t know how to fly, so Taylor micromanages it. She acts as the brains of the operation.

I felt myself shift slightly as I found myself almost directly on top, my legs gripping the underside of his thorax, and I overcompensated.  We both crashed to the ground.  A ten or twelve foot drop for me.

Fuck.

My armor absorbed the worst of the impact, but I felt my forehead hit pavement.  I always thought of the concussion I’d suffered whenever I took a blow to the head.

Not something you’re eager to go through again, I’d imagine.

“Come on!”  I growled the words, scrambling to my feet.  “Don’t be hurt, don’t be hurt.”

He was okay.  I could examine him with my power, I just couldn’t comprehend him in the same natural, instinctive manner.

Well, at least she seems to have decided a gender for him.

It took attention, focus.  With my direction, he used a flutter of his wings and the points of his scythe-tipped claws to flip over so he was ready as I reached him.  I mounted him and tried again.  We repeated the takeoff process, faster this time.

Let’s do this thing!

We lifted off on the first try.  I controlled my breathing, focused my attention on him, tried to avoid that same reflexive compensation that came with a shift of my balance.

When I account for the wing compartments and the amount of space that the wings take up at the back of the shell, He’s not much bigger than a motorcycle.

A flying motorcycle. I’m torn between Harry Potter and Ghost Rider.

Upon further research, it seems Ghost Rider bikes don’t actually fly, so Harry Potter it is.

*pictures Taylor being tasked with delivering Harry’s Hogwarts letter and birthday cake on the fusion bug*

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