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 Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2005 9:28 am
[the beginning]
blue=taylor
black=shanuh
She seemed less like a human then she did a bundle of mismatched, baggy clothes draped on a skinny frame, a scarecrow come to life. A well-worn denim jacket was thrown over a gray T-shirt and brown cargo pants. Heavy black boots peered from under the hems. Her neck was covered by a long, blue scarf, and her hands were covered in worn leather gloves with the fingertips cut off. The only parts of her body that could be seen were her nose, which was long and sharp, and her dark brown eyes, which peered sullenly from under a thick thatch of short brown hair and a black knit hat.
She was sitting on a wooden bench, doubled over with her long limbs poking awkwardly in every direction. What held her attention was a thick book, possibly a college textbook, that she held in her lap. She ruffled through the pages quickly, with jerky movements, pausing only to scribble something in the crumpled notebook that sat next to her.
She blinked. Blinked again. Shook her head irritably, as though she had water in her ears. Blinked. The words on the page continue to slide and meld into each other, becoming meaningless blobs of ink splattered over the white paper.
Well, she told herself, that's what you get when you don't sleep for two days. Part of her mind told her to go to sleep, to wait, to finish the project later. That was the sensible part. The remaining 90% of senseless brain goaded her on. Finish it. Keep studying. This project is half your grade. If you don't get an A, then you're just a meaningless little blob of slug slime that should throw itself off a cliff. You're a moron, Taylor. A ******** moron. If you can't get this, you'll never do anything right.Shaking her head again, she slammed the textbook closed, then picked up her notebook, flipping to the front page. The words of the title danced and flowed like everything else, but she knew them by heart. An Analysis of Social Behaviors in North American Birds. It was a good title, a professional-sounding title. But it didn't mean anything, any more then the rest of the inkblots did.
Maybe she should find herself some real birds to study instead of trying to read about them.
An hour later, Taylor hadn't found any birds except a few pigeons, who did nothing but beg for breadcrumbs and were no good as subjects to study. She was even a failure at finding the damn birds, let alone writing about them. Finally, she gave up and decided to return to her dorm and go to sleep. Maybe things would be better in the morning. As she walked down the street, hugging her textbooks to her chest, she spotted something, a riotously colored sign standing out against the rest of the gray buildings. "The Birdcage."
Maybe she wasn't a failure at finding birds after all. Suddenly wide awake, Taylor pushed the door open....
----
Taylor bent over a cage of small white mice, frantically running on their wire wheel. Two mice were trying to run in opposite directions, with the result that the wheel spun first one way, then the other. Neither of them getting anywhere.
This is no time to be playing with mice, she told herself fiercely, standing up and turning to look arund the shop for something with feathers. She pulled her hat further down over her eyes, tucked her chin into her scarf, and turned to inspect a small, fluffy black kitten that was currently radiating an aura of irrepressible cuteness.
Once again, something that wasn't a bird. I've got to stop getting distracted.
-----
Shanuh had been finishing up with a previous customer. The silly man had bought 100 feeder fish, and had asked for information about owning a lizard. He'd spent all afternoon explaining proper lizard care, which products needed to be purchased to give his future pet the best chance at life, and had introduced him to a few of his local, cold-blooded residents.
The man said he'd come back later.
Finishing up with the purchase, he heard the familiar tinkling of bells. Ah-ha. More customers? Glancing over, he saw a man enter the shop. A bright man, with pretty hair and jinglies which were reminiscent of Patrick. And one who, apparantly, was insomniac based.
There had been one who'd entered earlier as well. Her voice caught Shanuh's attention, and he looked over to check out the source. Hmmm. Intense, or so that's what he aura suggested.
Well - at least this meant potential business. He had two employees working for him, and someoen had to pay them. He couldn't just steal money and income. Well, he probably could but that would go against his reasons for existanct. Stealing. Hmmph. How low could a creature crawl? That was something Nikel would do - but not Shanuh.
Never Shanuh.
Running his fingers through his hair, the man cooly looked from one to another, the slightest of smiles curving his lips. "Can I help either of you?"
His bi-coloured eyes looked from the girl staring at the kitten, back to the boy with the shirt. Both looked particularly tasty - but again - that was for later thoughts. He was probably just hungry. Nikel had, apparantly, gone on an extended break. A shame really - Shanuh was itching for a bite.
---
Taylor spun, her long scarf catching the kitten in the nose. It started to claw at the fabric as Taylor gaped openly at the bizzare person... employee? No way anyone like that could get a job... oh wait, she's the store manager. He? Dammit. She blinked fiercely, wondering if her vision was still playing tricks on her.
"I'd like... I mean, I'm trying.." She mentally kicked herself. The man, if that was what he was, was giving her the creeps. A kind of oily malice seemed to roll off him... though that might be another trick of the mind. She quickly rehearsed her "speech" in her mind, then began, talking very quickly.
"Okay, here goes. I'm doing my college thesis and I need something to study. Perferably some kind of bird. Or multiple birds. And no pidgeons. And not something that's been studied to death already. And something that's not too expensive to feed. And-" She cut off, realizing the other boy had started speaking before her. She listened to him, while trying to look like she wasn't listening. A rather difficult trick to pull off.
"Know of a place that sells good, cheap food? I'm kind of broke..."
Poor guy. "Cheap food? I know a place-" she said, then mentally kicked herself again. The mental kicks were starting to make her mental a** hurt a lot. Now he'll know I was eavesdropping. I shouldn't have come in here. Now I've got to deal with people, and I've never been able to pull that off....
----
Glancing over at the girl, Shanuh quirked a brow. He cared little that she overheard the conversation, and couldn't help but find her speaking habits entertaining. She looked, by all appearances, a bit jumpy. A bit skittish on the edges, as if a sudden movement would cause her to jump.
Somehow, she reminded him of Cadence, but with a few inches more of backbone and confidence.
"Birds, you say?" His eyes lit with delight at the request. "I have a plethora of them, as you can see, and a few in other places as well.
"Do you wish to study them in the wild, in their own environment? I have a few tricks I can offer if you'd prefer a pet that's not tame. And a few more tricks to entice the most unusual within petting distance!" Like a boy sharing secrets, Shanuh himself seemed to radiate joy and excitement as he offered her his assistance.
"Of course, I can always let you browse thet feathered ones I have here. But there's nothing better than studying one whose not bound by cage or tether.
"And," he continued, winking playfully at her, "I can guarentee they're not pidgeons."
---
Is he crazy? The man (I think) had gone from being outright creepy to strangely... bouncy. Like a little kid showing off his newest toys. But he seemed to know what she wanted... a bird, a wild bird, something that hadn't been tainted by human contact and was still free.
She smiled slightly at him, though shivers still played around the edges of her mind, making her eager to get some kind of a shield between the two of them. Quickly, she scooped up the kitten and held it in front of her chest. It continued to gnaw on her scarf.
"Birds. Right." She scuffed the soles of her boots on the floor nervously. "Yeah. What I'd like.... I'd love to study them in nature... like you said. Nothing tame. I want to see how they behave by themselves... how they fly, how they eat, how they think." Her eyes took on a glowing look as she began to explain her research, her plan. "Most people think birds are stupid... "birdbrains," so to speak. But my theory is that they are much more intelligent, perhaps even smart enough to rival humans. But I need some proof to back that up, so I'm trying to observe them. I'm hoping to find some instances of tool use... ravens and crows have been seen making tools, but very few other species seem to do this. And possibly some kind of inter-species communication... that would be incredible," she breathed, grinning brightly.
She blushed suddenly as she realized she had been blathering. She hadn't talked to anyone in a long time, and she'd been longing, without realizing it, to tell someone what she was up to. Though pet store managers with violet hair probably didn't care about her scientific obsessions.
"So... is that all right?" she added quietly. "I would like to see these birds."
---
Shanuh listened as the woman explained - rather thoroughly - exactly what she planned to do with her studies. A type of ornothology study? Well, that gained her points in Shanuh's opinion. Anyone who cared to study birds was good in his minds eye, and to prove that they were intelligent? Even better.
Birds were smart creatures. Not all of them were as intelligent as others, but the fact that they survived and continued to exist was a point in the right direction. They weren't dumb "bird brains" as she explained. Think of the African Gray Parrot? One of the, if not the most intelligent birds in the world.
"Well," he started as she finally paused to take a few gulps of air, "I do commend your efforts." His gaze studied the woman, glancing down at the kitten she held tight between the two of them. The cat looked content enough, but it did look over and throw Shanuh an undescribable look. The kitten was safe here - it couldn't be touched!
Well, the girl wouldn't hold onto the darling forever. It would be returned to its cage soon enough, the glass walls, and the knowledge that it was unwanted and unloved.
"And so, my dear . . . ?" He hesitated, quirking a questioning brow in her direction to ask her name. "You shall. Now," he stated, leading her torwards the back of the store, weaving easily through the stacks of empty tanks and aquariums. "I can't guarentee any results, but, with any luck you might be able to get a glimpse. Some of the birds prefer open spaces, not crammed rooftops with competition like pidgeons." The man gave a soft snort, opening the door for the girl to head up the damp cement stairs. "We'll stop at the roof anyway, and if there's no luck, I can offer you a few suggestions to catch there attention elsewhere. Somewhere with open spaces, somewhere they can truly be free."
---
"Wha? Uh... wow. Thank you!" Taylor hugged the kitten tightly to her chest, grinning. Finally, things were starting to go her way. This had to be some kind of lucky day. She wasn't much for superstitions, but this day certainly seemed special. Why today, of all days, had she decided to study in the park instead of holed up in her dormitory? Why had she taken a different route home? Odd.
A worming sensation of nervousness continued to gnaw through her excitement. Odd, yes. In far too many ways. The manager... weirdoes like that shouldn't be trusted. Especially when they were trying to lead her up twisting stairways to unknown locations. Hadn't her mother said "Never trust anyone you don't know, especially if they've got purple hair and dress in leather and call you 'my dear'?" Or something along those lines.
But if she didn't take this lead, she might never find a bird. Might never finish her report. And for Taylor, the fear of failure was a good deal stronger then the fear of death, rape, or whatever might wait for her up that stairway.
Something furry squirmed in her arms and she realized she was still clutching the kitten. It seemed happy to nestle inside her coat and purr, a loud sound for such a small animal. Why wasn't it trying to get loose? She started to put it down on the floor, but it mewed pitifully and she picked it up again. Its small, furry body and strong heartbeat gave her a bit of confidence.
Hurriedly, before she could talk herself out of it, she strode quickly through the doorway. "Thanks," she said again to the man as she started to climb the steps. "I'm glad someone could help me. Nobody seems to get what I'm doing. My name's...." she quickly pondered coming up with a fake one, but couldn't think of anything credible, "Taylor. Stupid cliche of a name, but I didn't get to pick it out." Kitten clutched firmly in her arms, she took the stairs two at a time and hoped she was heading towards something good.
---
Shanuh lead the woman up the stairs, his familiar click-clack-click-clack of his heals echoing the small stairwell. The roof. Perhaps his most favorite position of all when it came to the Birdcage. The small, almost overlooked shop with its neon sign was crammed between two buildings. There was little breathing room down below - but up above, not nearly as tall as the nighboring buildings, anyone could truly be free. There was freedom within the small top, no worry about the cars and people down below; it was peaceful, in a simple sort of way, and Shanuh loved the perch.
It was a great place to be, with or without company.
Shutting the door quietly behind him, Shanuh ignored the cool, crisp breeze that gusted. They weren't high up off the ground, but it was enough to catch the windflow between adjascent buildings. The scent of winter was in the air. The touch of autumn turning crueler, colder, and it wouldn't be long before snow and rain covered the rooftop.
It was just as lovely in the middle of winter as it was with springs first kiss. Shaking his head out of his reverie, clearing his thoughts to focus on Taylor, he quickly responded: "I'm Shanuh, as the tag properly indicates." Looking around, he noticed that the roof was indeed an empty, empty place.
"Hmmm - if you'd like, feel free to scatter some seeds. Perhaps entice the little darlings to you." Who knew what the Birds plans were?
Sometimes they flocked in mass numbers to the familiar rooftop. Other times it was dead silent and empty, as if they scorned Shanuh and the world in which they lived.
It was always different, it was never the same.
What would it be like with Taylor?
Only time would tell.
"They have minds of their own, you know," he softly explained, certain that this Taylor-woman would understand perfectly. She seemed to dig biology and ecology and all of that science jibberjabber. Science couldn't explain everything, and Shanuh found human laws and theories a joke.
They thought they knew everything - as if!
---
She stepped onto the roof, shivering slightly in the cold wind. The roof was desolate, barren, but it somehow seemed beautiful to her. Like a concrete desert. The clear, almost painfully blue sky seemed to threaten to repeal the laws of gravity and draw her into the void. Into the air. She found herself scuffing her feet just to make sure they were still firmly planted on the ground.
The overwhelming sensation of space had almost made her forget her quest, the reason she was standing on a random rooftop with a purple-haired transvestite. What kind of a place was this for birds, anyway? Nothing truly wild would fly to the middle of the city just to perch here. It wasn't the correct habitat. This was all wrong. If anything did come here, she'd be laughed out of town for trying to find it in such a place. The lucky day had just done a faceplant.
"Shanuh?" she said, carefully, trying to make sure she pronounced the unusual name correctly. As usual, she messed it up and had to hope he wouldn't notice or care. "Why are- ah, forget it," she amended, remembering his words. They have a mind of their own. She was trying to prove that birds could think for themselves... maybe they would surprise her. It couldn't hurt to try.
The plastic bucket of birdseed stood open and waiting. She grabbed a rather large fistful with one hand as she hugged the kitten to her chest with the other, then threw the seeds in a wide arc across the roof, where they scattered across the ground like edible snowflakes. And she waited.
---
Shanuh ignored her question. The woman had said to forget about it. The eccentric manager leaned back against the door that led to the stairwell. Did she truly doubt him? Did she truly think that birds didn't think for themselves?
Perhaps he was doing wrong, manipulating her in such a fashion. Unlike some who'd found the beginning of the end here, this woman wasn't stupid. She seemed to be logical and suffered from rational thought - she wasn't wallowing in a bucket of angst, she wasn't looking for a missing piece in her life. Oh no, this woman, it seemed, was only here in hopes to find a few wild birds.
Creatures to study, to prove her theories correct.
Perhaps it was cruel of him to lead her up here and (potentially) hand her something completely different. These Birds would throw her thesis for a loop, these Birds weren't exactly normal. Shanuh knew he wasn't going to help her studies by doing this - but he'd make it up to her later, perhaps.
Looking up to the sky, feeling this sense of freedom, he closed his eyes and waited.
. . . . . . . and waited.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .and waited.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
The wind seemed to grow chilly, a sharpness entering it that wasn't there before. It wasn't enough to drive any away, but standing on a rooftop in the strong breeze, there was a strong likelihood that discomfort would begin.
Shanuh kept his eyes closed, waiting. Would any show today? Would any -
Ah ha.
Opening his eyes, he stared up at the clear, cloudles sky. A shadow circled over the rooftop, over Taylor, and the sillhouette of a bird could be seen.
A big bird.
A large bird.
It landed a scant five feet from Taylor, looking down at the seed. It was white, and looked as if it had been bleached clean of any dirt. A very dark splotches could be seen upon hts back, wing tips, tail and head. Golden eyes, rich and about as frigid as the accompanying wind, studied the woman.
No. It wasn't the woman he wanted. It was the squirming kitten that she held.
Strange how a Snowy Owl would find itself in the middle of a city. Even stranger was the fact that these conditions were not in thel east arctic enough. It was true Snowy Owls could hunt both night and day (considering at the peak of the world, days lasted such a long time on more than one occassion!) but to find one this far south. . . .
Crazy, wasn't it?
"I do believe it's hungry," Shanuh mused, looking from Taylor, to the kitten, to the bird.
---
She'd been expecting... well, nothing. Maybe a peregrine falcon or one of those other raptors that would put up with nesting on buildings when their natural habitats were bulldozered into the ground. Maybe just a sparrow, or one of those ubiquitous pigeons. But mostly nothing.
But this was certainly not nothing. An enormous, deathly white, vicious looking, and very very large lack of nothing that had landed in front of her and pushed all logic off the side of the building.
Holy s**t. Holy goddamn ******** s**t.
It was all wrong. A Snowy Owl. Here. In the middle of the city. A habitat so unsuitable for the bird, Taylor could have found a map, written "No ******** Snowy Owls here" across the city, and no ornithologist would have argued with her. But here it was, staring her in the eyes and demanding to be noticed and recognized as here. This bird.... this enormous raptor, this deadly, beautiful creature, was standing on the concrete five feet from her boots. And it was looking right at her- well, right at the kitten that was currently squirming and mewling in her arms, finally realizing just what danger it had let itself be carried into. And (though she knew anthromorphizing was the academic equivalent of writing your thesis in pink crayon on the back of a Denny's placemat), it looked hungry.
And it looked like it wasn't going to put up with her telling it that it was in the wrong habitat, shouldn't be here at all, and was certainly not going to be allowed to eat that kitten.
The bird finally stopped staring at its intended prey and locked eyes with Taylor. It had beautiful eyes, like puddles of liquid gold and amber. Fierce eyes. Wise eyes. Eyes that (she knew) could pick out a rabbit against a field of snow from high in the air and then guide the bird in sealing that rabbit's doom.
Taylor felt a hell of a lot like a rabbit right now. A very large and seriously baffled rabbit with a bunch of professors back at the college that were never, ever, going to believe her.
The owl rearranged its wings regally and continued to regard her.
"Shanuh? This.... owl.... it doesn't eat seeds, does it? So now what?"
---
Oh, this was delightful. This was the time of judgement. This was the now, the beginning - and it all rested upon Taylor. Would she be able to do it? Would she be strong enough to offer the Bird what it truly desired?
"You're quite right," he stated, his voice almost mocking. Of course he didn't eat seeds! What did she expect? What sort of college-thinking-paper-writing student was she? Oh, just because this scenario hold no logic, didn't mean she had to have her brains turn to jelly and seep out of her ears! Think, girl, THINK!
"This would the Snowy Owl. Nyctea scandiaca," he repeated, almost boredly, as if this information was nothing more than a childs rhyme or song. "These birds hunt both day and night and tend to eat rodents, other birds, carrion, and small mammels." He looked over at the black-fuzzed thing struggling in her arms. "Much like this kitten here, wouldn't you agree?"
Death was on his voice.
And death was on the menu.
See? Everything came full circle one way or another. Since Shanuh couldn't feed the kitten to his lovely Birds, it would seem this woman, Taylor, would be the lucky server. "I'd say you should f---" His words, crisp and clear, broke off.
Shanuh's gaze turned upon the bleached-white owl, staring long and hard within those intense eyes.
Oh! Oh this was too rich. Too much.
"So it appears he wants to play. Throw it off the edge of the building, dear," he purred, his entire emotion calm and composed. This wasn't a sick game to Shanuh, there was no sadism lurking in his exterior. "He promises the cat won't hit the cement."
The owl, shuffling his wings, slowly edged closer to the edge of the roof. Hopping up in a flurry of feathers, he rested upon the small, foot high edge which surrounded the perimeter of the roof, and waited.
He was hungry.
And kitten was next on the menu.
---
"What the- oh, holy- you want me to throw- is this legal? Taylor sputtered. Owl and cat glared at each other, or more accuratly, one glared and one gaped in horror.
"Ah- will it- ********. ******** ******** ********." She scuffed her feet anxiously, glancing from owl to kitten and back again. The majority of her mind was screeching loudly for her to leave the sadist maniac and his illogical owl and get the hell out of here. I mean... a kitten? A ******** live kitten? She couldn't just throw a kitten off a building.
But... that owl. The bizzare owl. For starters, it was the ultimate study subject, but Taylor wasn't the type to kill for her research (though she'd come close once or twice). She studied animals because she liked them, because she wanted to show their inteligence. Chucking them off buildings was no way to treat an inteligent creature. The thing was, something about the owl was unnerving her: the way it was standing so calmly between two humans, which would have unsettled any other raptor. And the way it kept staring at her. It knew what it wanted, and it was going to get it, whether Taylor was willing or not.
The squirming little fluffball of a kitten turned and stared at her with large, blue eyes and mewed, a tiny little sound that was nearly drowned out by the wind. She wanted to kick God in the a** for making these things so dammned cute. That had to be some kind of violation of something or other.
Wait. Wait wait wait. Think. "...tend to eat rodents, other birds, carrion..."
"You! Pet-store man!" she shouted, her voice creeping into the higher levels. "You've got snakes and stuff, right? Then you've got to sell those little frozen mice they like. Or something like that. Will this owl here eat those?"
The owl fidgeted and clacked its beak, as though it could understand her words and was thinking, certainly not.
"Listen, birdie. You can't just eat this kitten." Well, technically, it could. And would. And there was nothing that would say otherwise. It probably picked off small, fluffy things every day of its life with no remorse. Taylor was the real problem here, her all-too-human emotions getting in the way and obscuring the web of death and destruction that bound every creature, with no regard for cuteness or lack therof. But it seemed so cruel. Needlessly cruel.
"Listen, I'll get some frozen mice and chuck them off the building. Will you like that? Please?"
Here she was, talking with a bird. Bargaining with it. And hoping it would agree to her terms.
She had a horrible suspicion that it wouldn't.
---
Shanuh looked over at the girl, watching her sweat, watching her panic as her need-for-life took over. All that empathy washing through her system. All that desire to save the innocent kitten. Please. The manager was almost disgusted by her display of kindness.
"I do not sell frozen mice. Within my shop, I have a tank set aside for feeder mice - those whose lives are cemented by the fate of death. Besides, the rodents a Snowy Owl eats are larger - like lemmings. If he could, I'm sure he'd much rather hunt down an arctic hare. Comparing this kitten with frozen mice is like comparing a filet with McDonalds."
Yes, he was scoffing at her need to save. And yes, it was very obvious.
The owl's glare seemed to penetrate deeper, his eyes akin to livid embers. Was she denying him the kitten? Was she not going to do as he asked, do as he said? Feathers ruffling, the white raptor gave the softest of hisses. The Snowy Owl's displeasure was branded on Taylor, his irritability obvious.
"Just drop him over the side," Shanuh encouraged, flipping back his hair. "Before he loses his temper, or worse - finds you boring and changes his mind. Feed him and stop making excuses. Your guilt and remorse hold no place here.
"Learn the first rule of life and death - death can never be controlled, death can never be compromised."
The Snowy Owl's wings twitched again, the great raptor bobbing his head.
Taylor had no choice, she was cornered on both sides. To toss the kitten over the roof wasn't a request - it was a demand.
---
He was right. He was completely right. An owl would want something much larger then "McMice." Where did a pet store manager learn about raptors? And where did he take his philosiphy lessons? He talked about life and death and lemmings and fillet mingon in the same bored, indifferent tone.
The owl hissed, its entire body telegraphing anger and irritation. Taylor knew a man who worked with raptors. He'd lost an eye to a frightened hawk long ago, before he learned to properly understand the birds. This owl was not frightened, but it was determined. A much more dangerous scenario.
Her fingers tightened around the wriggling, fluffy body as she tried to convince herself to do what she needed to. If it didn't die here, it would surely die at the hands of some irrisponsible owner who let it get into danger, or terrify it into becoming paranoid and agressive. The outcome would be the same.
If the owl put out her eye, she would probably drop the kitten and the bird would get its meal. Either way she lost and it won.
She shut here eyes tightly and hugged the kitten close to her chest. The owl, thinking she wasn't going to give in, flapped its wings and scratched its talons against the concrete, breaking into a loud, barking attack call.
"Okay! Okay! You can have your ******** kitten! Just gimme a minute!" Tripping over her own feet in panic, she scampered to the edge of the roof and looked over the edge. It was a dizzying drop. The kitten, terrified by the sudden lack of a floor, tried to claw its way to the top of her head. She gripped it firmly, fingers tightening around fragile bones. It was going to have to go. Maybe she could keep it from panicking on the way out. Quickly- how much time was this owl going to give her?- she arranged her arms so the kitten was cradled in relative safety.
"Shh... it's okay..." she soothed it, trying to keep the fear and sadness from her voice. It could probably pick up the terse anxiety the words barely concealed, but she did her best. "Shh... you're a good kitty. That's a good kitty." Unbelievably, the kitten started to relax, leaning against her chest. She imagined it was purring.
Before the creature knew what was going on, is was over the edge of the roof and plummeting through all-too-thin air. The owl took off, soaring over Taylor's head on silent wings. She didn't notice it. Her vision was blurred and smeared by thick tears that made the world drip like a wet oil paining, but the dwindling figure of the kitten stood out far too clearly in her mind. She knew it was going to haunt her dreams.
---
The kitten, in all its horrified glory, twisted his body naturally, preparing to hit the ground on his feet. Of course, the great raptor kept his side of the bargain, and the kitten didn't go squash in the ground.
Instead, his pure white feathers were now stained with bloody. The kitten fought and struggled within the powerful grip of the bird, but it was all for nothing. So was the circle of life.
The raptor could live another day by what the kitten gave him. The kitten's life was officially over. But that was the way of things. The raptor carried the black ball of fuzz back up to the roof, landing heavily upon it. Without thinking, he started picking at the tender flesh, feasting upon the sacrifice made.
He respected his meal, happily gorging himself upon the thin little bones. Where so much life had once prospered, there was now nothing more than a bird eating a body.
Shanuh's corner of his lips tugged up into a gentle smile. The girl was traumtatized. "We all kill, you know." His voice wasn't reassuring, merely offering obvious statements of reality. "Vegetarian, vegan, or not - we all kill to eat. Humans slaughter pigs, cows and chicken - deer, quail and duck without thinking. Humans rip plants from their roots and soil, chop down trees to farm, slice through fruit without thinking twice."
He looked at Taylor, a soft scoff entering his voice. Frigid - similar to the Snow Owl's icy gaze. "You'll need to be stronger to be with him for long. There will be no escaping his grasp now, girl. You and him are together for life."
The owl, who's face was smeared with crimson blood, his white feathers, earlier pure and almost holy, now soiled with death, paused in his meal. Looking up, he fluffed out his feathers in a proud display, studying Taylor with intelligent eyes.
But they were softer, if not quite forgiving.
---
Why did there have to be so much goddamned blood? Who knew it was possible to fit so much gore into such a little body?
Taylor couldn't look. She knew she should be able to- she'd dissected infinite cats, pigs, and various internal organs, but this was different. She'd seen it alive, just a minute ago, but now-
The owl looked up, seeming proud of the carnage he had caused. He hooted softly as he rustled his feathers and bent to preen one of his wings. Taylor allowed herself to admit that he was beautiful, in a cold, savage sort of way.
"Yo. Owl," she said dully as he finished his hard-won meal. "Get your kitten-eating a** over here." So what if she lost an eye or two. Then she wouldn't have to look at the dripping piece of intestine vanishing down his beak. To her utter surprise, the bird hooted again and fluttered towards her, landing on her outstretched arm. For such a large bird he was very light. He studied her with a sort of begrudging respect.
"You're mine now, I guess," she told him. "Together for life, whatever the hell that means." The owl gave no indication of what he thought about this turn of events, but merely shifted his balance to perch more securely.
Carrying her regal burden, she descended the stairs and walked back through the pet shop, where the mice and puppies and the remaining kittens shrank back in fear.
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Posted: Wed Nov 16, 2005 6:55 am
It really had to be some kind of miracle that she managed to walk to the college with an owl on her arm, and nobody was around to notice. It was even more of a miracle that said owl waited calmly when she couldn't get her door open and had to kick it a couple times to make the rusty hinges move.
Home sweet home. Her personal haven of schoolbooks and dirty laundry. The owl swiveled its head to look around the small space, seeming disdainful. At last it left her arm in a silent flutter of feathers and soared to her makeshift bookcase, a large stack of blue plastic milk cartons with only a few books actually stored on it. He perched on the top, seemingly surveying his new kingdom before turning to preen his bloodstained feathers.
Taylor went to the bathroom and was sick for a very long time.
When she emerged, the owl had almost finished cleaning his feathers and was restore to his former pristine state. No evidence of the day's carnage remained. Doing her best to ignore the raptor (a hard task when he was watching her every move), Taylor booted up her computer and started looking up owls. The icy blue glow made her skin seem almost as pale as the feathers of the bird.
A soft breeze brushed her cheek. She turned and nearly fell off her chair in surprise. The bird was perched on her desk, his beak mere inches from her face.
"Uh.... hello?"
He clacked his beak softly and hopped closer to her. It wasn't an affectionate motion, simply one of curiosity. He examined the keyboard and her fingers, which were frozen on the keys.
Part of her wanted to bat the creature across the room like an oversized feathery softball. He'd killed a kitten. He'd made her kill the kitten. Monster.
But he had been doing what he was supposed to. What nature had crafted him for. What did she expect him to do, live off tofu and vegetables like her? How silly. He was an owl, not a person.
Gently, cautiously, she raised one hand. When the bird made no movement, she rested her fingers on his back and lightly stroked his wings. The feathers were as soft as newly fallen snow, and about the same color. Taylor felt electrified, to be so close to such a dangerous, beautiful predator. She also felt very, very scared.
Without warning, the owl clacked his beak loudly and departed in a sudden whirl of feathers, landing back atop the bookcase and giving Taylor a shock in the process.
"Ah-" she stammered, "okay then. Be that way."
That evening she turned the thermostat down low to keep the bird more comfortable, and opened the window to let him fly out. She wasn't going to be providing his food, since he seemed perfectly capable of getting it himself. Her dreams, when she finally fell asleep, were of blood and falling and snow.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2005 9:01 am
"Hoo! Hoo!"
"Whazza... who... what the-" Taylor mumbled, poking her head out from under a tangle of blankets. Her brown hair stuck up in all directions, giving her the appearance of someone who had been getting very intimate with a Van de Graff generator.
"Hoo!"
A large white blur dominated most of her vision. After a few seconds of furious blinking, the blur resolved into the form of a snowy owl. The bird was sitting on a rather precarious perch; a math book, a dictionary, The Lord of the Rings,, six or seven CDs, three crumpled dollar bills, and a chipped plate that had been stacked (more or less in that order) on the floor several weeks earlier. On the very top of the pile, partially obscured by the owl's feathered feet, was a digital clock displaying the digits 7:35.
"Dammit!" Taylor yelped, sitting up straight. "Late. Late late late. Dammit."
Pathetic, the owl thought, watching his "owner" struggle to extract herself from her blanket nest. She'll never be able to hunt for herself. But though the bird didn't want to admit it to himself, the odd creature was starting to grow on him. He couldn't help but be touched by her (rather reluctant) sacrifice when they had met. Yes, she hadn't been the one to die, but it was her sacrifice- her compassion, her innocence, that had gone under his claws.
She was an unusual creature.
Taylor stumbled out of the bathroom, her hair now sopping wet, plastered to her head, and only marginally more attractive then the former wild tangle. She was lugging a bag of books that had to weigh more then she did, and wearing only one boot.
"Where is it?" she grumbled to herself, shoving aside essays and cans of Mountain Dew. "There." She extracted both the missing boot and her black hat from underneath her desk, jammed her foot into the boot, and slipped the hat over her still-damp hair.
"Okay, Owlie," she said, straightening up to look at the bird. "I've got to get a better name for you. Anyhow, I've got to go to class and I don't think you can come. The window's open if you want to go out, but don't let anyone see you go in or out, okay?" Though she would normally laugh at herself for conversing so casually with a bird, the owl seemed to understand her words well enough and she decided not to question it. "Oh, yeah, let me clean this up," she added, walking over to the "bookcase." The owl had apparently claimed it as his roost, and a few dense brown owl pellets were scattered across the carpet.
"Kruff-guh-guh-guk!" The owl let out a loud, barking attack call and swooped towards her, talons bared for attack. Taylor ducked and leapt away from the roost, landing on her bed as the bird soared over her head. He turned, perched neatly on the top of the bookcase, and clacked his beak twice. His roost. His!
"Okay, I get it. Don't touch the nest. All right," she stammered, her voice quavering a little. "I gotta go now. Don't- just behave." Grabbing her bookbag, she staggered out the door into the hallway.
The owl remained perched for a short time before soaring gracefully through the open window. What an odd place he'd been brought to. It was cool enough, though there was no snow yet. But it seemed to be completely infested with humans, congregating in front of large buildings or walking down paths. He flew away from them and towards what looked like a park, with a lake, forest, and open areas. Past the park was a large, open field of scrubby brown grass. His sharp eyes spotted several rabbits nibbling on what little green growth remained.
He could get used to this.
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Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2005 8:11 am
He'd been remarkably patient today. He'd put up with her measurements of his wings, his tail feathers, and his talons. He'd sat still while she photographed him from all angles, listened to her swear when the camera wouldn't transfer said pictures to her computer, then sat still again for more photographs.
But this was just too much.
"Okay," she had mumbled, scribbling furiously on a notepad. "The point of this all is to test for true cognition- essentially, true thinking. Defined by solving a problem under novel conditions. So I'm thinking tool use or tool creation... or maybe a new way to get food. Or something. I could do more if I had another bird here, but I don't think that's going to happen... so here's what we're going to do."
So she'd devised an experiment. She'd made a kind of box and put some raw meat in it, and she'd laid out a bunch of sticks and wires. The point of it all was to see if he could pick the right wire and use it to make a tool to unlatch the box.
So he did.
"Brilliant!" she'd said, holding a video camera to record his every move. "That's great! That's incredible! Better then Betty and Abel! Can you do it again?"
Well, that was stupid. He'd done it once. Wasn't that enough? The food wasn't even that good. The meat was all cold and nasty. Maybe if she'd put a lemming in there, a live one, but he wasn't expecting that anytime soon.
"Come on, do it again," she encouraged him. "Can you do it again? I need more video."
Why? What are you trying to prove? We both know I can make your little wirey tools. And what's the point of all this? I don't make wirey tools in nature. I don't need any tools, dammit. I've got claws and a beak and wings. You want to see smarts? Watch me hunt. Watch me find my prey. Watch me learn to live in this stupid greasy, smoky deathtrap you call a city.
He flew out the window. Why do you need to prove everything? he thought, winging his way to the field. If you know it, isn't that good enough? And if you know everything, then you won't have anything to do for the rest of your life.
Later, perched in his tree at the edge of the field, he spotted her crouched behind a bush with that notebook and the infernal video camera. He was expecting more wirey tools and boxes, but she seemed content to watch him catch and devour a rabbit, and later chase an irritating dog out of his territory.
"It was interesting watching you," she said suddenly that evening. She'd developed a strange habit of talking to him in the evenings as she typed or read. He found it odd, but entertaining. "You- um- you're really interesting. I've never seen an owl up close before. I'm glad you let me watch you."
Well, I'm glad you- you- well, I'm glad you have this fish machine, he decided. Her fishtank of guppies had become another source of amusement. The fish were too small to be worth catching, but it was odd to be able to see them from the side, beneath the surface. He let her shoot some video of him watching the tank. It made her laugh.
((OOC: Betty and Abel = a study where crows were seen making wire tools. ))
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2005 9:48 pm
Well - it was about damned time!
The snowy owl, who had been perched upon Taylors bed, allowing her to pick and poke and take more measurements, quiet suddenly fell flat. In fact, much to her astonishement, the creature (once so tame) was now nothing more than a dead pile of white feathers.
What. The. ******** was no reason, there was no cause. In a blink of an eye, Death had snatched the owl away from Taylor and her confounding measurements. Science couldn't explain the cause of death, but thankfully, science wouldn't have a chance to autopsey the corpse.
"You better not try to measure me now," came the voice, akin to snarky growl.
Arms crossed, the boy stood behind Taylor, glaring up at her. Yes, he was glad to be out of the confines of his feathered corpse, but it suddenly occurred to him that he was something new! At least physically. And when it came to the nerd Taylor, there was a good chance she'd want to investigate him all over again.
This time, Diacyn was not going to tolerate it.
((Haha~! Good luck, Lupe! And congratulations!))
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 12:52 pm
It was so sudden she barely noticed when it happened. One minute she was staring into those vivid yellow eyes, then she bent down to scribble something in her notebook, and when she looked back up the bird had fallen. The lustrous, silky-soft feathers had crumpled, the eyes had closed, and the creature was nothing more then a husk.
She'd been expecting it, but she still felt tears beading at the corners of her eyes. He'd been so beautiful, so alive, and now...
"You'd better not try to measure me now.
Oh, holy ********. That's right. He was still here, and he was going to be-
She spun in her chair and felt her jaw lose all strength and decide to become good friends with the floor. This was no flame-haired hyperactive Iamel or childishly sweet Akuti. This was angry and dangerous-looking. The boy, clad in something resembling a monk's robe and sporting vivid black swirls across his bald head, glared at her with the same fierce eyes that the bird had possessed.
He shook his head irritably, rattling the string of beads around his neck, and spread snowy wings wide, flapping them a couple of times to fan the pages of Taylor's notebook and mess her already unruly hair. "There," he snarled. "Get a good look, because you are not going to be poking at these."
She continued to gape openly as he continued. "And if you try to measure me or study me or force me to do any more of your inane experiments, I will bite your fingers off."
He looked like he meant it, too.
"Y-yeah. Okay." Taylor suddenly felt very weak. This was her owl, her friend, but-
Where had he come from? There hadn't been anything. No wormholes or interdimensional tunnels or tears in the fabric of space and time. No gust of wind or puff of smoke- well, maybe the room had gotten colder (she'd have to look into that), but other then that he was just here.
"The name's Diacyn." And with that, the bird-child stalked across the room to his nest at the base of her bookshelf and proceeded to rob Taylor's bed of most of the blankets for his own nest. Then he shoved the half-open window all the way open, admitting a gust of cold air and several large snowflakes. Outside it was snowing heavily, the dark air crisp and filled with ice crystals that glittered in the glare of the streetlights.
Taylor made a mental note to buy a parka.
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2005 8:42 am
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Posted: Sat Dec 10, 2005 6:54 pm
The wonderous world of liquid nitrogen
The flyer said "The Magic of Chemistry." It was one of those science demonstrations for young children, intended to instill a sense of wonder about scientific principles in their minds, in order to keep them from falling asleep in science class in the future. An elderly scientist in a lab coat and safety presented the most awe-inspiring yet still safe chemical reactions he could think of to an audience of relatively attentive small children.
Taylor and Diacyn arrived late and slipped into the back of the auditorium unnoticed. Diacyn was wearing an expression of total disgust; he didn't want to be here, he wanted to be making snowmen and whacking their heads off with sticks. But, in Taylor's words, he was her kid and he was going to be educated, dammit! (sending him off to school was quite obviously out of the question.)
Diacyn slouched in his chair, sulking and glaring at Taylor from under the hat she had made him wear to cover up his markings- red knit wool with a goddamn bobble on top. How humiliating. At least she couldn't do anything about the black stripe over his eye, short of making him wear an eyepatch (which would draw the same amount of stares at the actual marking). The thought gave him a small amount of satisfaction and kept him sitting still through demonstrations of multiple color-changing solutions and sodium exploding on contact with water (which would have interested him, except the scientist insisted on using pointlessly small pieces of sodium, therefore creating pointlessly small and boring explosions).
Then the scientist pulled out a metallic canister with thick white fog rolling off the top and announced that it contained liquid nitrogen.
Diacyn yawned and examined a fly on the ceiling. He considered throwing something at it and began searching his pockets. There was nothing in there except five dollars (a stolen prize that he didn't intend to give up) and a dead mouse (for eating, not throwing). He gave up.
The scientist inflated a balloon and immersed it in the canister, where the liquid nitrogen hissed menacingly and emitted more steam. The balloon emerged shriveled, shrunken, and covered in frost.
Diacyn sat up a little straighter.
As the balloon warmed up and re-inflated because the air inside was expanding, the scientist froze a banana and used it to hammer a nail into a plank of wood, then dunked a rose into the liquid and whacked it against the tabletop. It shattered like glass.
Diacyn's eyes lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, but with a ferocity that suggested the light didn't come from Christmas lights, but from spontaneous combustion.
And Taylor made a hasty excuse to drag him bodily out of the room. Maybe he could be an English major instead.
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Posted: Tue Dec 27, 2005 5:15 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 3:36 pm
Christmas
Well, it was Christmas at the college. For some, that meant happy family reunions filled with the traditional happy family arguments; for others, it meant long romantic walks in the snow that was decorating the branches of the trees in beautiful whiteness.
For Taylor, it meant phone calls to her brother and then a long evening curled up with a blanket and a good book and (horror of horrors) no homework. She didn't bother calling her parents- they probably wouldn't even pick up the phone, much less talk to her. So it was just her and Diacyn holed up in the dorm.
And then, she'd realized a bit too late that Diacyn was going to want a Christmas present. How the little birdthing knew about Christmas at all was a mystery in itself- he hadn't even been in the world for a year, but he'd picked up from TV and overheard chatter that Christmas meant lights and snow and presents and such. He even had sort of a fuzzy concept of the Nativity, except the angels puzzled him endlessly ("They've got wings too! Are they Faucets of Death like me and Iamel?") and he couldn't figure out what the hell a baby would want gold for, much less what the hell myrrh was. But the main thing he knew about was PRESENTS!!!
So Taylor was stomping back to her room after a long day of fighting other shoppers for the last bargain piece of crap, clutching a plastic bag possessively to her chest. She fiddled with the lock, shoved the door open, and-
What. The. Hell.
The lights were off, and the room was illuminated only by the blue-and-white glow of Diacyn's Christmas lights. The soft light sparkled off the perpetual pile of snowflakes on the floor, as well as huge paper snowflakes that definitely hadn't been there before, but now were hung all across the small space. And then there were strings of silver garland draped over the window and around a large evergreen branch that had apparently been ripped from a tree and then jammed into an empty ramen cup.
And then there was Diacyn. He was wearing a white sheet wrapped toga-style around his body that, along with the white wings and the pile of silver tinsel perched percariously on his bald head, made him look a little like an angel. And he was singing "Silent Night." Loudly. And off-key. And he didn't know the words so he was substituting his own lyrics, which were mostly too swear-filled or violent to print. "Hi!" he said, surprisingly cheerfully, when he saw her. "Happy Christmas!"
The bewildered Taylor had a sloppily wrapped present shoved into her hands. She blinked, then remembered that she had a present for Diacyn and gave it to him. He snatched it and scurried off to his corner, the sounds of tearing paper soon filling the air.
Taylor unwrapped her present more carefully, opening the paper without tearing it in that infuriating way that makes the present-giver all impatient (though it didn't this time because the present-giver was busy having fits of glee over his own gifts). Inside was a very nice journal labeled "Science Notes" in Diacyn's messy handwriting, and a glass bottle of silvery metal suspended in oil, which bore the label "Sodium." She suppressed a grin and made a note in the journal to put the sodium back in the chemistry lab (where it had obviously been stolen from) when break was over. "Thanks, Diacyn!"
"Welcome!" He was already wearing one of Taylor's presents- a pair of hakama pants and a karate belt- and clutching the other, a book about ninjas. "And we've got this, too!" He held up a cardboard box with holes punched in the side that had formerly been hidden beneath the Christmas "tree." "It's from Iamel. I can tell 'cuz it smells like gunpowder. I don't know what it is."
That was a frightening thought. Was this thing going to explode? Was there more sodium inside? (she didn't have many doubts about where Diacyn had gotten the idea that exploding metals make good presents). Taylor took the box gingerly and was surprised to hear something moving about inside. "It's alive?" With fumbling fingers she unhooked the top and peered inside.
An incredibly fluffy ball of solid Technicolor cuteness leapt up and began licking her fingers like there was no tomorrow. A fox? Her vision was mostly obscured by fur but she could hear Diacyn's gasp of shock and then the inevitable, "is that for me to eat?"
The ******** couldn't walk past a pet shop without salivating over the kittens, and the fox was no different. Fluffy and cute!
"No!" Taylor clutched the wiggling foxlet to her chest possessively. "He's not for eating, damn it! It's a pet for us! And it's nice." The fox reaffirmed her statement by licking her ear, sharp white teeth just a breath away from the skin.
"But I wanna EAT IT!" Diacyn shouted, stomping one bare foot on the floor. "It's mine and I want to eat it!"
"You can't just go around eating every stupid little thing you think would make a good entree, you dumb owl! Just because it's furry doesn't mean it's food."
That was a major contradiction of one of the owl Rules of Life, and Diacyn wouldn't let her get away with it. "You're wrong! Just because you have less of a spine then a sea slug... oh, just gimme the damn fox!"
Time for diversion tactics. "You forgot a present!"
Greed temporarily overtook lust, and Diacyn was back over by the tree in an instant, tearing open the present that he had, indeed, forgotten, as Taylor cooed over the fox and tried to figure out where to hide it from Diacyn. Half a minute later, Diacyn emerged from the tree corner with his teeth firmly clamped around the ear of a plush cat. "Mine," he growled, overlooking the fact that a stuffed animal was probably bad for the digestion. "Can't have it."
Ha. Though Diacyn didn't realize it, Taylor had won this round. The fox was alive and the wannabee-fox-gourmet was completely distracted. It was going to be a relatively peaceful Christmas after all.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 3:39 pm
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Posted: Wed Mar 15, 2006 2:21 pm
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Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 8:31 am
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Posted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 5:23 pm
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Posted: Tue Apr 18, 2006 9:31 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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