Entry tags:
closed 🪶 so many birds of so many feathers
Who: Benedikta Harman & Others.
Status: Closed.
Where: The Roost.
What: Benedikta tries to fix up the chocobo stables that she broke last month, and she also gets a new visitor through the rifts.
Warnings: None for now.
Status: Closed.
Where: The Roost.
What: Benedikta tries to fix up the chocobo stables that she broke last month, and she also gets a new visitor through the rifts.
Warnings: None for now.
no subject
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.
no subject
It might be the wings. They are quite impressive.
no subject
It's both. And thank you. [ His wings fluff up a little bit with pride. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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?
no subject
So there's something of a smile as she gives her shoulders a little shrug, and in a burst of magic and feathers and wind, her own wings unfurl from her back, their span wide and reaching, white feathers tipped in a light green. It startles a couple of the chocobos, squawks and warks echoing off the cliff walls.]
Not quite the same as yours and made of magic, but... still my own.
[Her smile turns a bit proud before she's bending over to straighten a plank of wood, and she shoves it into the dirt where she'd dug a little hole.]
no subject
Very nice! [ He's taking in her wingspan, it has to be close to his own, if not bigger perhaps. ]
I certainly hope you fly! [ Because that's the best way to travel, obviously, he's not at all biased. ]
no subject
Of course I can. Why else would I have them?
[She folds them against her back and continues to work. It's not so often that she leaves them out like this, but... birds of a feather...]
It took some time to manage them, but... unlike my old wings, these take little to no effort at all to maintain.
no subject
I taught my cute little intern how to fly. Best thing I ever did.
[ Ah, he misses him. ] Really? Lucky. I'm in the middle of molting. [ Hawks sighs heavily, lamenting. ] They look terrible. I really need a good preening.
no subject
Have you tried asking the gryphons up top?
[Is she serious? Joking? Yes.]
My own wings do not need that sort of maintenance, yet they insist on trying anyway. The chocobos, not as much.
no subject
No, I haven't. That's lucky that you don't have to look after yours like that. It's a kind of itchy when the feathers are replacing themselves naturally. You wouldn't want to.
no subject
[She pauses the conversation, and motions to the more cumbersome task—the post that needs to be dug into the ground.]
There is a shovel over there. Grab that and start piling the dirt back in around this.
[And with that, she sends her wings away again in a blink, feathers fluttering about and making her chocobo kweh and chase after them.]
I have heard many a bird complain to me about their molting. I don't believe there is much that I could have done for them, however.
no subject
Preening helps a lot, but that's kinda inappropriate if you aren't close to someone like that. Not much else to do but wait it out.
no subject
[She laughs and twists that big post into the dirt, and one of the chocobos comes over to watch them, curious, and tries to dig its feet into this little hole that she's created before she has to shoo them away. The bird snips its beak at her in return and moves over to Hawks's side instead.]
Though I do have to ask—do you understand them at all?
no subject
[ His publicist team does not have the patience for that. ]
Ummm, well, probably kind of? It's not like talking to someone, birdsong is kinda like based on a general vibe rather than a language. [ That's his interpretation of it, at least. ]