learn to fly again [open]

[hawkwardness]

Who: Tobias, open!
Where: Around and above campus
When: Early September, no specific date
What: Network post, day in the life of the birdboy
Warnings: Harm done to small animals (aka Tobias has some lunch)

UN: ornithology

Would anyone be able to help me catch an owl? Without hurting it. I only need it held still for about thirty seconds, max. I figure it'd be good to have something that can see in the dark for night missions.

Thanks.

everything else--

[His daily routine does not vary much. Wake up, chat with his roommate until the guy dies, let himself out the window to find some breakfast.

Breakfast is not easily found. It's not a matter of warming some poptarts in the toaster. No, he must hunt it himself. Swoop down and make a kill with his own talons... but it is what it is, and it bothers him less than it did a month ago. (Which wasn't nearly as much as when he first began his bird life.) He learned something, see, during the week he was haunted by the ghosts of prey. A way to lessen what guilt was left, a way to comfort their spirits. When he's finished with breakfast, he flies away... and returns with an acorn in his beak, placing it next to the remains of his meal.

He spends the rest of the mornings preparing his offering for the next day, gathering seeds and leaves and acorns which will all be deposited on his windowsill. Very peculiar behavior for a hawk. But it feels good. Feels right. He has to kill. He doesn't have to be cruel about it. He can be... humane, if not human. It's become a daily ritual, one he won't be stopping anytime soon.

And when not hunting or gathering, he'll be up there in the sky, of course. He makes a pretty distinctive silhouette! Wave, shout, you're bound to get his attention eventually.]

Comments

UN: REIRA

[soft_focus]

I can ask one!

[She means it.]

[hawkwardness]

Really?

Okay. When do you want to do this?

[soft_focus]

Yeah

I just have to ask Birds to find an owl.

Um

When did you want to meet an owl?

[hawkwardness]

Who's Birds?

I don't know. They wake up after sunset, so maybe around nine? Is that too late for you?

[soft_focus]

Birds is Birds.

Why would it be too late?

[right this is Reira.

Apparently no natural force can contain her,]

[improbablenotimpossible]

[A large black dog can be seen searching the grounds in the late afternoon, snuffling, tail wagging when people passing by, looking all the world to be a big, if intimidating looking friendly pooch, but when no one around - his movements were a little too purposeful, too direct to be that of a normal canine. As Tobias' shadow passes overhead, the dog lifts his head up, following his movements - then trotting after]

[hawkwardness]

[He drifts along, enjoying the day and watching the goings-on below, especially picking up on movement. And other animals, prey-size or not. He's hardwired that way, it can't be helped. And he knows what normal dogs act like. That one is not quite normal...

He circles down slowly, eventually coming to rest on a fence post that is hopefully out of reach. (Just in case.) No one in the world is going to judge a talking bird for trying to have a conversation with a dog. So that's what he'll do.]

< Hi there. Were you following me? >

[improbablenotimpossible]

[He pads over, stopping - sniffing the air slightly, as the voice spoke, the canine's ears perked up, green eyes... do dogs even have green eyes naturally? seeming to brighten, as if in recognition. He looks around, then the form wavers, shifting into a man Tobias might've seen on his floor]

Guilty as charged.

[hawkwardness]

< Neat. You're better at that than I am, mine's not so... tidy. >

[Nor does it come with clothes. He cocks his head curiously.]

< Did you want to talk to me about something? >

[improbablenotimpossible]

It's part of being a Vampire, I suspect.

[and unfortunately for him, the canine form is his only ability in the daytime]

As for my reason... I was merely curious. Given my - schedule, we do not often cross paths.

[deuteranope]

[He'd watched him the day before, curious to see what the hawk would do and if he really did go around not...being a human, or creepy. Killing things sorta gave him creepy points, but a hawk's a hawk. It's the foraging around for natural, small collectibles that makes Maverick's brain gears churn. What is he doing...

Today, he steps more into the open and calls up to Tobias as he holds an arm out in front of him. Hoodie weather made for a better perch, so bless September rolling around. Still a touch too hot, but Mav is willing to suffer if it means he gets his second skin back.]

Yo, Birdbrain! C'mere a sec!

[hawkwardness]

[He catches the word 'birdbrain' blowing up from below, and inwardly rolls his eyes. Rude. Not even close to the nastiest thing he's been called in his life, though, whatever.

He folds his wings and dives with talons outstretched... Mav's arm makes for a much bigger target than a mouse or a thin tree branch, it's as easy as pie. He lands, gripping the hoodie fabric as lightly as he can without falling.]

< Let me know if I'm hurting you, it doesn't look like much padding. Also, don't call me that. >

[deuteranope]

Nah. You're good.

[It really isn't much padding and he can feel the pinch of talons, but it's nothing he can't handle. Probably deserved worse. Scratch that, definitely deserved worse because he rolls his eyes at the command.]

Here I thought you were all fucking proud to be a bird and humans were gross or some shit. [does he even need to remind Tobias who he is when he talks like this...........] I'd call you Magpie, but the crap you're collecting is more like a fucking squirrel. What, no loose buttons or coins on campus?

[hawkwardness]

[No, Mav does not, the voice is very familiar and filthy as ever.]

< What? I never said humans are gross. I said I don't want to run around with someone else's face. >

[And again. What. What is he--oh, the acorns.]

< Oh, no, it's not for me. Remember that week we were all seeing ghosts? Did that hit you too? I heard feeding the spirits might keep them away from me next time. It sucked. I couldn't tell which animals were real and which were ghosts. >

[deuteranope]

Well, good for you, but as a human? Humans are pretty fucking gross.

[In all sorts of ways. But that isn't really here nor there. He shifts his weight onto one foot, studying the bird with a raised eyebrow and wondering how fucking weird this must look to the average person, some guy chatting up a hawk. Like he doesn't talk to cats without a second thought...]

Skipped out on extracurricular paranormal activity. [thank fucking god, not that he has all that many ghosts in his past, he's pretty sure.] So... You're doing it 'cause you think that spooky shit is gonna happen again?

One of these days i need an icon for these mice.

[quintessent]

[One thing that might catch Tobias' attention is a crowd of colorful mice: Blue, pink, teal, and yellow. Not behaving much like normal mice. Instead of the normal, skittish behavior that was common among prey animals, these four were having a nice snooze in a field of flowers outside of the academy. The yellow one is particularly rotund and, by all means, for any mild-mannered hawk simply looking for a lunch, they might as well have a large BIRDS EAT FREE sign pointing at them.

Except there's a young woman sitting near them, a book open in her lap but she seems more interested in cloudwatching than reading, and she's peering up into the sky. She's spotted the red-tailed hawk in the sky by now and her eyes are lazily following him, but she doesn't yet know there are any chatty birds-who-are-actually-boys hanging out on earth.]

[hawkwardness]

[A rainbow of mice not acting like mice should, at a secret school for magic, where the wild squirrels have supposedly formed an army? Yeah, not normal mice. He has enough common sense not to even think about it.

But hey, he can do the decent thing. He'll tell her so she doesn't have to worry about her little squeaky friends. He glides down slowly, lazily, not in the manner of a hawk diving for prey, landing where she'll be between him and the mice. And he walks over. Definitely not hunting behavior.]

< Uh, hey. Yes, I'm the bird, it's me talking. >

[quintessent]

[She must be daydreaming because it’s not until he’s just about landed that she finally sits up straighter, her expression turned wary when he walks over on taloned feet.

And then he talks. Or “talks”. There’s a voice in her head that isn’t hers and it’s a good thing that this is a magic school and that she’s already experienced about a few dozen stranger things than talking birds (and her own psychic connection with the crew of mice over there) or else this might be really jarring. As-is, it’s just a little jarring.]

Oh! [What else are you supposed to say when greeted by a bird?] …Have you always been able to talk?

[It’s a dumb question and she knows it the instant it’s out of her mouth but she was too surprised to be eloquent. She stammers on,] That is- I have seen birds on earth before and you are the first one to talk. I assume there is magic involved?

[hawkwardness]

< Yeah. I don't know the whole story, I don't think I ever will. I've only been able to talk and think for about... eight months now. Woke up with a head full of brand new knowledge one day, like how to read and speak English. >

[It's perfect, a flawless cover story, right? Shame on anyone who says it's weird, when there are dead men and daemons walking around.]

< Anyway. All I wanted to say is you don't have to worry about me going for your mice. >

[quintessent]

[There’s probably a lot of holes to be poked in his story, but there’s also a lot that’s weird about a princess going into a magic sleep for thousands of years only to wake up with a psychic connection to a group of mice so she’s not really one to judge.

Speaking of the mice, she cants her head to the side,] Going for- [She’s starting to question at the same time that his meaning clicks , her eyebrows shoot up and she looks over to where the quartet are still snoozing.]

You mean eat them? [A little incredulously, although it’s probably something she should have thought about before now. There was so much on her mind that she’d forgotten about the utterly mundane threats of random wildlife.]

[aibolition]

[He'd notice the hawk on campus. You didn't see hawks in his old town, and certainly not in the inner world. He spends so much time watching the skies, there's no way he couldn't have seen the bird flying through and around the other dorm. He never flinches when he spies the hawk taking up a mouse or other in its talons. Not even when he can see the tearing and blood. It brings a dull muted envy and nothing more.

The first time he'd noticed the bird returning with green-scraps had been odd. The second time, confusing. By the third time he'd noticed a pattern and by that time he took it on himself to investigate. The first tell is that the bird takes the dorm, actually flying inside it. The second is both more and less obvious.

He walks up one day, going right to the hawk with his hands tucked in his pockets.]

So what's with the offerings? Think it'll lure more back?

[hawkwardness]

[It's always nice when he knows he won't have to deal with the 'the hawk is talking to me' routine, really. He doesn't move his beak when he speaks, an odd not-exactly-sound voice that sounds like a teenage boy.]

< No, it's to stop their spirits haunting me. I don't know how long you've been dealing with magic... stuff... but that's not as crazy as it sounds. >

[aibolition]

Trust me, I've been seeing the dead since day one and it's exactly as crazy as it sounds. The dead are nuts.

[His eyes dart down to that little pile of seeds.]

Are they actually still bothering you? Figured the swarm was gone by now.

[hawkwardness]

< They're gone. Or at least I can't see them anymore. It's a nice thing to do, either way. Honoring the dead, even though they're animals. >

[He's far from the first person to do that in the world. Really reinventing the wheel here, all by himself.]

[aibolition]

[He won't argue that. Tending the dead was an important job. He didn't have the patience for it but he knows well enough it could soothe over restless souls, at least for a little while.]

Just kind of an odd thing to be done by the one eating them. But for the record, I haven't see anything following you lately.