escordvi | closed 🪶 so many birds of so many feathers

[Well, given everything that had happened the month before, it is no wonder that the stables had not been mended after she tore them apart with her magic. The chocobos have still been living here, but without a proper place to sleep, they have gone ahead and made nests out of grass and leaves scattered around the area, and have made quite a mess of it. Fortunately, the birds are not wary of her even after everything, so when she returns, they are eager to greet her. It certainly helps that they can understand each other, and that she has food...

She is in the middle of speaking softly to her own when her bird perks up at the sound of someone approaching, and Benedikta turns around to spot... one of the newcomers to the Hideaway. A soul she has not had the chance to meet yet but is no less intrigued, as her eyes roam over him, pausing on his wings.]

Have they bothered you into helping as well?

[ He's joined the team, but he was away getting kidnapped and that's been a whole thing, and now that he's pretending he's totally healed from injury, it's back to work. He's stubborn. Fortunately he's mostly healed.

Hawks does hang back while she looks him over. Everyone looks at the wings, he's not offended, but he can always tell that they do. ]

Oh it's not a bother, I like having things to do. [ He genuinely means that. ]

[Fortunately for him, the work that needs doing won't be too difficult. Benedikta is well aware of who has been healing from what happened hardly a month ago, so won't be too bossy. Only a little.]

In that case, why don't you bring over that basket of greens. The birds have yet to eat, and I would rather not have them restless while I attempt to fix these stables.

[The bright yellow-feathered chocobo eating out of her hand chirps, her wings flapping as she watches Hawks.]

Astrid seems to like you already. Do you come to the stables much?

I haven't actually. [ For someone who probably took it a little easy for a couple of days and who is very much the type not to rest when he should, he's moving pretty good. Hawks is good at disguising injuries, very well practiced.

He moves over to the basket of greens and starts passing them around. ]

I'm glad she likes me, because some animals get kind of weird about me. Birds don't usually mind me.

[A motion to him, and Astrid stretches down to try and catch the green in her hand, nipping at Benedikta's fingers and earning a little tap on her beak in admonishment for being so impatient. She chirps back, and stalks over to Hawks to look him over. Greens? Friend?]

It might be the wings. They are quite impressive.

I think animals can't decide if I'm a man or a bird. [ Hawks chuckles and well, he's a softie, so she's going to get some greens off of him. ]

It's both. And thank you. [ His wings fluff up a little bit with pride. ]

[Look at her, sucking up to him and getting what she wants!!! Astrid's feathers puff out in joy as she takes the green from him.

And with that out of the way, she moves to the pile of lumber that had been gathered and set aside by some of the crew for rebuilding the stables.]

They are... not made of the magic of this world, no?

Ah, well, that's kind of a yes and no answer. They're my quirk, so without the tattoo, they're not there and that's weird. [ Hawks will offer Astrid a little head pat too, gently running fingers through feathers. ]

But they're not from here. I was born with them. I'm what we call a heteromorph, meaning I have mutated traits from something not entirely human. For me, it's a hawk.

[A heterowhatnow?

Benedikta's brows furrow in confusion, but as she knocks a plank of wood free from the pile and lifts it from the ground with her magic, a breeze blustering through, she continues to eye them with interest. How did he end up mutated with them anyway...? If he was born with them? Questions that sit on the tip of her tongue but ones that she does not feel quite so comfortable asking just yet. She has only just met the boy after all.]

And they do not get cumbersome? I often find that my wings can get in the way more often than not.

[That wood is carried over to where Hawks is standing, right where the stables used to be, and she drops it carelessly to the ground at his feet.]

[ At the very least, he doesn't seem to mind questions. He doesn't - people have been asking them for years. He stands out and has a public facing job. People here might be shy but not every reporter at home has been. ]

I mean, kind of? [ That's probably one of the stranger questions, actually. ] They're attached to me though. Even if I shed all my feathers, I'd still have the bone structure there. [ He does not like to be that unarmed. But more importantly... ]

You have wings?

[After taking a few days to fix the stables, it's up to the gryphon's nests high up in the cliffs of the Roost. It has been some time since she's been up here and the place could certainly use a bit of cleaning, but given the circumstances, the only objection she receives are a few loud squawks when she shows, many of them asking where she's been and if she's brought them food, to which she answers no, resulting in a few cranky shakes of their feathers.

All in all, though, she does enjoy being up here. It's where the air is crisp and the wind can flow through unobstructed. She feels at ease, even when doing menial chores like sweeping up the old hay and dried grass that make up their nests. Something that she is not likely to be found doing anywhere else...

She is in the middle of fixing one of their feather garlands that had torn in the winds that blew through a month ago when it happens, though she remains oblivious to their new visitor at first wherever she lands, be it in a messy gryphon's nest or at the edge of the cliff, just hopefully not over it—]

[ One would think Betsy would just be used to ending up in a strange place and might adjust quickly to it. That's not precisely proven to be the case, at least not entirely. She's certainly trying to keep it all together, pretend that she's just fine with how weird this all is. Just another Tuesday. But damn if she isn't a bit tired of her life being this...mess. One weird thing after another with no end in sight.

Her mind wanders to Otherworld, to her brothers, and the memories stick to her like quicksand, dragging her down below. The Starlight Citadel, the last place she saw her oldest brother alive, comes to vivid life in her mind and her thoughts sink down into wishful thinking about different paths she could have taken. How much she wishes she could just go back and maybe change how things turned out. She's so lost in her thoughts that she doesn't immediately notice when a rift opens near her, one that reflects the fairytale world of Otherworld, Avalon in the distance and the Starlight Citadel in the sky. Before she knows it she's going to it and then --

falling.

She's barely able to put up a bright magenta shield around herself as she falls into a gryphon's nest. On the bright side that means she's temporarily avoided the mess that comes in a nest. On the negative side there's some real shocked gryphons that aren't taking too kindly their new visitor. ]

Bloody hell. Why... [ the British accent is thick, exhasperated more than irritated. Quickly she throws her hands up as her shield comes down. ]

Now look, I didn't mean to land here. No need for us to have any hard feelings.

[There are several loud squawks, the furious beating of wings, and the scrape of talons on the rocks that all has Benedikta turning around, searching for the source of this new and unfamiliar voice. Her hand immediately rushes to her sword mostly out of instinct to protect the flock because what else is she to do when a mysterious woman just drops out of nowhere and lands in a nest?

Betsy's surrendering motions do little to ease the shock of her arrival amongst the beasts, and Benedikta can hear their panicked words beneath their cries. The Matriarch herself, identified by her bright, gold feathers in her wings approaches, but she's stayed by Benedikta, who rushes in to grab a fistful of her plumes and tug her back before things can get too far out of hand.

One hand in the feathers and the other on her sword, Benedikta eyes her with just as much wariness as the birds, all of whom calm when she steps forward, her voice hissing at them to be quiet.]

How did you land here?

[ Something prickles at her, under her skin, unease that she's picking up from the gryphons around her. Not that she can blame them. Sympathy toys at her expression until Benedikta and her eyes flicker to thee woman's hand drifting to her sword. Betsy tenses for a moment there, fights with herself ever so slightly on if she should risk going on the defensive more or not. Ultimately, she chooses not if only to keep from further upsetting the beasts.

They didn't ask for her to fall on them. Here she's the invader and she recognizes that. Perhaps because she's spent so much of her life fighting off invaders of her own. Like senses like. Or something like that. Her parents truly would be proud at the self-control she learned from her sheep herding days, wouldn't they?

She keeps her hands out, up, and stays relatively still. An observant person might notice she's a little too still in her movements, slowing even her heartrate down in an attempt to seem as unthreatening to the beasts as possible. While also keeping purple eyes on the other woman. Slowly she offers something of a sheepish smile. ]

Excellent question. Some sort of rift opened up and spit me out here. I thought I was free from portals and rifts. [ The last sentence holds just a bit of exasperation in it. Tiredness. Alas, they don't seem to be tired of her. ]

[While the gryphons still remain restless, Benedikta can at least sense it. It's not as if she thinks the woman is at fault for falling into the nest—as much as she loves the birds herself, she would not wish it upon herself either, especially seeing how they react to a stranger suddenly in their midst.

Her fingers at her sword relax, but her grip on the larger gryphon's feathers remains, as intrigue sparks in her eyes.

A few more moments of tense silence passes with the only sounds being the still restless squawks and chirps throughout the caves, before Benedikta steps forward and offers her hand.]

You mentioned rifts?

[She tries to mask the desperation in her voice.]

You have just landed here from another world?

[Someone has yet to fill her in on this whole portal thing.]

[ Betsy keeps her eyes on the bird, though she does attempt to not make direct eye contact with it. Suggesting she might be challenging it isn't something anyone here wants.

She lets out a tiny sigh as the silence stretches on and then nods ever so slightly in response. ] Mm, I assume that's what they're called? It's what we called them where I was from.

[ And might as well stick to what one knows, right? Even if she does recognize it might be slightly narrowminded of her. There's always slight variations in how things work in different worlds. ]

I have. Honestly, I'm still trying to gain my footing here. [ There's a hesitation in her voice, almost like she's not certain if she should mention either of these things. One shows weakness while one may just say too much about herself. ] Been to other worlds and realities before but there's always an adjustment. Things to learn.

[ At least this one isn't filled with alternate versions of people she knows, it gets points for that. She hesitates for a few seconds before asking the question that comes right to her mind: ]

Is this place unstable in some way? Is that why I got unceremoniously teleported over here?

[ Look, she's just going to assume someone who looks like Benedikta and who seems settled with these creatures must know more than her. ]

Not that I am aware of.

[Yeah, she's just going to reach down and hoist Betsy to her feet. Her sitting in that nest is not going to do her or the gryphons any good.

She has questions, many of them swimming in her gaze as she looks the other woman over, a few sitting on the tip of her tongue, desperate to fly out. Any mention of rifts and world hopping is of interest to her, and she says that she has been to many? Might she know about how to control them or, better yet, close them...? Not that she's going to ask the latter, but she nearly does as she opens her mouth, thinks better of it, and then closes it again.

But there is something else very interesting about what she's said, and she narrows her eyes. The gryphon squawks and snaps her beak at Benedikta when she squeezes her feathers, and she pulls her hand free, shoving the bristling bird gently.]

Wait, you are not quite so new... and yet you were somehow teleported here? From someplace else in this world? Most often than not, you are dumped in the ocean or upon the deck of the Armada's ships.

[She had mentioned finding her footing, so it's the logical conclusion to make.]

[ At last she doesn't flinch at that. Even if she does feel a bit embarrassed at the help. She'll get over it. ]

Thanks. You're good with them.

[ Makes her wonder how long she's been around gryphons. Or if she's natively from here in general. Not really the most important question to ask now. Instead she turns her attention to brushing herself off, trying to keep herself from huffing about the indignity of the entire situation. No need to make an even worse impression than she probably already has. ]

Yeah, this was different than that. I was going to meet a teammate of mine at a cafe. Obviously I didn't make it to the cafe. [ The teammate will understand though, most likely. Or he'll simply think she stood him up, which is just as fine by her. Not that she'll voice that, not when she knows how cruel it'd sound. ]

I guess that means sudden random teleportation isn't commonplace here. That doesn't seem good.

[ At least not in her experience. ]

closed 🪶 so many birds of so many feathers

🐔 hawks. chocobo stables.

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🦅 betsy. the roost's cliffs.

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