Cardinal Companion (14) : In the dismal whites and blues and greys of winter, the bright red splash of a cardinal is a welcome difference. It’s not uncommon to see birds out and about, and it’s easy to spot these especially after a fresh snow. Wild birds typically mind their own business and don’t really care about you–except, this one does. An unusually curious cardinal finds you the subject of interest in its day, and oddly enough–it feels familiar to you. You can’t explain it, but the moment your eyes land on it, it feels like coming face to face with someone dear to you. The cardinal isn’t afraid of you and feels comfortable enough to approach you, or maybe even land on you. Perhaps it’s even brought you some small gift. The more time you spend with it, the more you pick up on its unique habits, which seem to have an uncanny resemblance to someone you’ve lost. Sometimes the cardinal even smells of them, or has similar traits. The cardinal doesn’t ever stay for long but when it leaves there is an undeniable feeling that someone very important to you has paid you a visit.
Faustite needed the break from the sweltering heat of his own office. Though it had a window, and he often left it open, the feedback of his own convection overpowered whatever relief came of that arrangement. There was little to do for it. He tried wearing his cincher, but found he overheated just the same. He tried bringing ice with him, though it was a fleeting thing, and it melted long before his hours in the office were over. He tried breaking up his visits into tolerable chunks, but each time he returned, he found that his office hadn't shed his overpowering heat from the last time he was there.
But with winter about in Destiny City, it offered him an easy balm between projects. All he had to do was visit it.
He teleported to a place where few ventured as the temperature dropped. He knew Kerberos frequented the place, had a bench in that park that he frequented on his own hour, and perhaps Faustite's footfalls would bring him by there. He had no strong will either to visit Kerberos or avoid him; while he was certain that the senshi would do all he could to avoid a fight, the prospect of talking to him promised a reprise of his experiences with Schörl. That, he decided, was better left in the back of his head.
He wandered nonetheless, each step half-melting the snow that crunched under his boots. In his wake, he left ice patches in the shape of steampunk wear. His prints looked as normal as any of the half-covered tracks that had long left the park.
He passed under a sweeping pair of furs. A flash of red caught his attention, and he half-turned to find a little red bird flitting about him. It didn't appear scared; Faustite figured it wanted to use his heat. He turned away from the cardinal and kept walking, though the bird hadn't taken his spurning in stride.
It flew past him once more, then turned, brandishing something in its beak. That something caught the light in an opalescent fashion, and when Faustite approached, he recognized it for a seashell. Small, slight, but certainly a seashell. Precisely the same one that —
Faustite paused, set his jaw. Then, as if it could understand him, he signed to the bird with a barest tremble: Don't bring him up now.
amorremanet
a start heart
Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2024 3:10 pm
This time of year, Kiyoshi should have been getting ready for and leading up some of the last rehearsals for the annual winter holiday show at Scandals. Instead, powered up as Murikabushi, he’d spent a few nights hanging around on an adjacent roof where he could eavesdrop on the tea as some of the girls, guys, dolls, queens, kings, monsters, and assorted artists as they either arrived for or left after shows. Wasn’t quite as good a picture of what shows one might’ve expected to see as Kiyoshi might’ve gotten from just talking to the performers for himself, trying to get back in the scene where he belonged, but……he didn’t know if it was safe.
Didn’t know if the local drag scene had moved on enough that nobody would hear a new mix he’d put together and immediately figure out that Magdalene Yotsuya Wilde and Sayuri Kurobara Disobedience were the same person.
This evening’s stakeout by Scandals had left Murikabushi feeling restless, like he needed to take a red pen to someone’s first draft and help them beat it into something better. So many of the numbers he’d heard whispered about the past few nights were either fairly recent repeats, or Gemma Deluxxe insisting that she really, really, really had something new to add to a Frozen number. That she alone could offer something that no other queen in any other queer bar anywhere in the world had done before in the past decade or so of queens doing “Let It Go” (at best, an appallingly arrogant notion, like damn, at least go for “Show Yourself” or “Monster” if you had to do a Frozen number that badly).
“Underwhelming” wasn’t a word anybody should’ve been able to say about a holiday show at Scandals Bar. And fine, Diamond Espadrille’s “Home For The Holidays” number was perfectly serviceable. But, like……eugh, though. The only number that didn’t sound beneath these artists’ skills was Elijah doing something that apparently involved a Billie Eilish song and the phrase “slutty Krampus.”
By the time he sashayed into North-End Park, Murikabushi was itching for something to happen. Blossom wasn’t sitting at his bench tonight, so whatever happened wouldn’t be that. Instead, a Negaverse aura was out in the park somewhere—some General or Eternal Senshi from a cursory feel—but practically no one else was. Maybe someone else would come along eventually, but for the moment, Muri felt content to leave well enough alone. Treating Negas as if they were guilty until proven innocent didn’t help anybody. Besides, Muri had protested that same bullshit when Anser and Michel had done it to him for Existing While Dark Mirror Senshi.
A flutter of color drew his attention, though. Something vibrant red, accompanied by a rush of wings. Muri whipped around, voluminous skirts swishing around his thighs as he tried to spot where the color had come from. For a moment, he didn’t see anything. Maybe he’d imagined the sound and the color out of boredom? It wouldn’t have been the first time Murikabushi had made something up in his head, then decided that he wanted it to be real.
But soon enough, the answer flapped down to land on his wrist: a cardinal, holding a silver chain in its beak. The Negaverse aura felt closer, and something nearby smelled like smoke. As far as Muri could tell, though, General-or-Eternal-Whoever still wasn’t bothering anyone. Unlike this strange little bird who clearly thought that he was clever.
“Hey, queen,” Muri drawled as if chastising a child who should’ve known better. As the cardinal hopped up his arm, Muri tried to follow its path, palm upturned and expectant. “Why you gotta be out here stealing like this, Miss Thing. Come on. Let’s go give that back to whoever you took it from.”
Only after the bird had hopped and fluttered up to Muri’s shoulder did it drop its prize. Along with the chain, a pendant landed in Muri’s hand, heavier than he’d expected. Oval-shaped, likewise silver, with a(n at least) faux-vintage aesthetic somewhat undercut by the stone there inlaid, an almost convincing glass facsimile of an opal. Black around the edges, which then bled into red. The red, in turn, caught fire into brilliant orange, which gave way to yellow. Throughout the gradient, little whorls of misplaced colors vied for attention, but the shock of black that went through the middle caught Muri’s eye the most: thin, save one vaguely diamond-shaped bulge, with two strange curving lines that branched off from it, looking an awful lot like talons.
It was probably just his imagination, but something about that black in the center seemed deeper than the black around the edges. Maybe not all the way to Vantablack, but nevertheless, pretty close. As he wondered how the glass had been crafted this way, Murikabushi felt the cardinal nuzzle at his cheek. At least it had the decency not to get its beak involved.
“Gurl,” Muri sighed. “Somebody’s gonna want to make you into a very pretty roast bird over this kind of theft. I don’t suppose you have anything to say for yourself?”
Probably not, the bird distinctly lacked a youma’s energy signature and wasn’t trying to get its beak on Muri’s starseed, but……well. It was Destiny City. Who could say with some of the crazy wildlife in this town?
Nonverbal as ever, the cardinal rubbed its head against Muri’s cheek as if insisting that the necklace was for him, actually. Then, it started trilling, loud enough to make itself heard by more people than Muri. With a deep breath, he prepared to reprimand it again—he didn’t know, maybe General-or-Eternal-Whoever wasn’t especially fond of birds—but before he could say a word, Muri spotted someone else, the unmistakable light he radiated, and a little red bird fluttering nearby him. The taloned hands moved in ways Muri wasn’t used to seeing from the boy in question, but who else could he be?
“Faustite,” Murikabushi called to him, coming closer without hesitation. Probably, a lot of people in this town would’ve wanted to know what Muri was thinking, using that gentle tone of voice with someone like Faustite. But none of said people had been invited to this conversation or asked for their opinion, so barring the exception of Yuki, kinda high-key ******** them. “Are you also being made an accomplice to bird-larceny tonight? Or does your feathery boy have some manners?”
Letting the silver chain slip down to his elbow, Murikabushi moved his hands to add, You can sign. I’ll keep up.
Strickenized
For the stone, imagine this little guy in different colors! emotion_bigheart
Birdsong came through the trees, close by, and the cardinal before Faustite was obliged to respond. It fluttered toward Faustite, dropped its purchase into his palm, and flittered forward, as if beckoning him on to join the cardinal's company. In its direction was one of the White Moon's Eternals, however. Blackened fingers curled about the delicate shell as he stayed his ground. The offensive little bird could make its dredging of dear memories someone else's problem.
But soon he heard another voice, almost unfamiliar upon his first hearing it. Faustite stiffened where he stood, feet apart enough for balance, but soon recognized the Eternal coming his way.
His nonexistent gut twisted.
The cardinal that haunted Faustite had met up with its accomplice, only too happy to share news of the spoils he dropped into the burning one's hands. Faustite's core put out enough heat that it sloughed some melted snow from a low-hanging branch, to which the cardinal departed almost immediately after it cleared. There was space enough for his fellow kleptomaniac to join him, and he said as much in a few concise twitters.
Muri said words — that was about all that Faustite retained. His attention rested on the pendant caught in the boy's grasp. It left him uneasy, gut churning further, for how uncannily similar it looked to his own starseed. The shape was not a match, for no self-respecting jeweler would use such an obviously abrasive crystal, but the colors only differed for that snarling black streak down the middle. Why the ******** would Muri have such a thing? Did it come from that cardinal? Faustite assumed it must've.
So what the ******** were the birds, then? Looking up at his, he hadn't sensed any auras from it. Nothing magical about them but for the eerie intelligence they exhibited.
Finally, he turned to Muri. He did not smile. Instead, he held out his hand, and in his palm sat a chambered nautilus whose outer shell was cut to expose the individual segments. Closing his hand, he banished it to sign.
It gave me a ******** seashell like it knows something about me. With a resigned sigh, he added, My dad used to collect them. Painted them, too. Liked opening up nautilus shells and painting the edges. Often sold them online. Guessing the bird must've found one that someone lost. Has to be a coincidence.
He paused, then pointed to the source of his unease. What's that?
