Welcome to Gaia! ::

Cassandra thrust open the doors to the balcony of her Moroccan suite. A gentle breeze blew her dress around a bit as she stepped forward. Her eyes scanned the marketplace lazily. It was quite easy for her to pick out the individual movements of the bustling commoners: vendors hawking their wares, tourists wandering about aimlessly, rogues pickpocketing from the witless peasants. They all moved about their business like some glorious clockwork machine. She let out a sigh.

This is taking too long. Why haven't I heard word from...!

A tiny little sparrow flew in from above and perched on her shoulder. She stroked its back softly. "Ah, it's about time. I expect he didn't have too much difficulty?"

The bird lifted its wing and turned slightly sideways. She spotted a small scroll tied to the sparrow's leg with a small, violet ribbon. Slipping it out with care, she removed the scroll and unfurled it. Her eyes honed in on the tiny, coded print and quickly made sense of it. "Just what I wanted to hear. Excellent work."

She strolled back inside and set the bird on a perch. She felt this was quite a clever means of communication. Nowadays, phone lines were tapped, the internet was never that trustworthy, and anything else communicated via technology would be intercepted readily. However, almost everyone had forgotten about the primitive means of communication. It was quite easy to remain undetected; common folk would never take notice of a lone bird, and unless one was an ornithologist, a non-native species of sparrow would hardly seem out of place in the skies above Marrakech. This, of course, was only one of the many means of communication she had arranged, but it was truly her favorite.

"Wait just a moment. I have another message for you to take. I'll write it now." She crossed over to the ornate desk and removed a slip of paper. The front of it had a sinister, shadowy image of a sparrow on it; as she turned the paper over, the opposing side was blank. She sat down and dipped a feather in an inkwell as the perched bird dined upon a tray of seeds on the perch.

Finishing the letter, she returned the quill to the inkwell. She held it up to the light and studied it carefully, mouthing the words to make certain everything was suitable.

"Dear Ms. Butterfly,
I'm terribly sorry for contacting you in this manner. I'm afraid the situation has gotten a bit too dire to put blind trust in standard means of communication.
I'm certain you have heard of the atrocities that have been occuring world-wide. Needless to say, the countries of Northern and Western Africa have not been spared. The whole of southern Africa has already been taken; as such, refugees have flocked to our territories with enemies right on their tails. The sudden population swell has strained the coffers of our fine countries, and as a result, poverty is now sky-high. All these things were inevitable, and their solutions will undoubtedly require many adjustments over time. There are no instant solutions to fix these.
The matter which requires attention, however, is less complicated. I'm afraid that I cannot disclose the details at the present time; if this message is intercepted, things will not go very well for me. If you are interested in lending your services, please meet me in Fes, Morocco, at Storage Facility #42, this Tuesday at 9:00 AM. Now, it's perfectly reasonable to be suspicious at this request; in fact, I encourage you to be wary. I, a stranger to you, am asking you to come to an abandoned warehouse for unknown reasons. So, if you decide to come, you may bring all the defenses you wish; as many people as you'd like may accompany you. To show that I mean no harm, I'd like to offer some information regarding your past; perhaps we can arrange it as an exchange for helping us in our plight.
Sincerely,
Agent Harah X"

She smiled at her little message and walked back to the perch with a small length of black ribbon. "Tut, tut!" she said, offering her hand to the snowfinch. The bird automatically raised its wings, allowing Cassandra to tie the message onto its leg. She rushed over to the balcony and raised her hand into the air, commanding the bird to fly forth.

The bird began traveling westward, toward the sea. It stopped at a tiny little port town and dove downward toward a lone man standing on the pier. He adjusted his fishing rod and stuck his shoulder out for the creature. "You poor thing, ye must be tuckered out." The bird raised its wing and waited patiently for the man to remove its package, then it raced off to a small gap in the roof of a nearby house. The man, tucking the message into his pocket, reeled in his line and set the rod down against the side of the house. "Madam Violet must have another message to send. Good thing she got me when she did; I got another one headed out to Nightwing, too. Best to get 'em all done in one go." He hobbled into the house and closed the creaky door behind him, setting to work inside. In a matter of seconds, the messages were coded, decoded, translated, processed, and sent by hand to their respective destinations.

Alan threw her his gun, knowing he didn't need it. His hands grew larger and they had fur on them. He jumped up into the air, hoping to catch another gigantic hawk. The spirit's cries rang in his ear, and he was able to keep himself safe from the beasts.

Alan was too busy looking for more prey. Then all of a sudden, another bird came down and tried to carry him in the sky. Alan fought back by grabbing the bird's throat with his mouth and throwing it to the ground.

Alan looked at Hitake with ferocity, but was actually looking at a hawk that was about to grab her at full speed. He ran towards her on all fours with inhuman speed, and jumped towards her.

Alan timed himself so he could jump off her shoulder and grab the giant hawk and slammed it's head onto a rock below him. He then got up and howled with accomplishment.

Alan looked at Hitake, his face still red with anger. He slowly walked towards her on his fours, his face snarling at her.

Alan ran to her and jumped on her back to use it as a spring. He jumped off of her back, and started slaughtering the birds one by one.