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Mordread, quite the ragged looking cat-boy, wandered into the shop with a curious look on his face. Patrick had told him of this place, where he had gotten the little brat, Iamel.

Mordread thought Iamel was cute, even if he was a brat, and that was something. Mordread, while usually an easy-going fellow, tended to keep to himself. If he even half liked something, it was a miracle.

And he more than half liked Patrick and his family.

Green eyes, so alive with the need for knowledge, looked around the shop. It seemed like an ordinary, run-of-the-mill shop to him. He did know different, however, and gave a small yawn to show that he wasn't too impressed. Well, maybe that was the way it would seem...but truth be told, Mordread was dead tired.

He had worked yet another night on the stages and he was feeling the fatigue of the dancing now.

"Hello?" he looked around for that shop keeper that Patrick had mentioned. Or Patrick! WAS PATRICK THERE?! That would just...make the cat-boys day.

Patrick wasn't there, but his angry little son sure as hell was. Mouth full of crickets, Iamel was just settling down against the wall, wings spread comfortably...when he walked int.

Red eyes narrowed. The cat boy who his Shiniee had talked to before. The one who gave his shiniee that book.

Iamel bristled and crunched down on his grasshoppers, swallowing them quickly. "What are you doing here?" His voice is soft, a frown still twisting his lips, thin arms folding tightly across the sharpieed shirt he was wearing. "Shiniee isn't here."

As if this were not enough to piss Iamel off, a certain hummer boy was not far behind. Calytae gave a crazy little giggle as he danced into the shop, the door's tinkling bell giving fair warning to anyone who happened to be in the way. He had with him a sugar bun that looked as though it were more sugar than bun, and were that not incentive enough to steer clear of the pink-haired monster, the steaming cup of hot chocolate in the other would be.

"Shanuh!~" the little boy sing-songed, a silly little greeting; he wasn't actually looking for the colorful man, or for anything, really. Cadence wasn't, either, given that she didn't even know that he had run off to the shop.

Sensing another, a friend, because everybody was a friend eventually, Calytae stopped his skipping long enough to locate Iamel, pressed against a far wall. "Hey! It's you!" he called, taking another bite out of the sticky mess in his left hand. Better than crickets by far.

Oh, gods. Another annoying thing that tries to take his Shiniee away! THIS one had taken a shiny silver thing from the dark Companion - a heinus crime in the woodpeckers eyes.

Really, the only way to get Iamels loathing is to try and take his SHiniee away. He only had one and he was HIS - no one elses!

So when the little hummingbird be-bopped his way in, Iamels eyes got even more narrow. Had he been an animal with fur, it would've bristled from the unhappy vibe coming off of the gold/orange/red haired little bot."It's you." He huffed in return. His voice aloud was the same as it was back when he could only think through his mind - low pitched and still soft, twanging something almost nasal. "Shanuh isn't here."

"'Course it's me." He blinked, obviously thinking this over; who else would he be? He certainly couldn't be Iamel, no one but the real Iamel could be so huffy and puffed-up and mean. But of course, that was hardly a deterrent for Calytae. Giggling again, he flopped down onto the floor in front of the grumbly woodpecker-boy, the hot chocolate swirling precariously round in its insulated foam cup.

"I just came here 'cause I wanted to, I wasn't looking for Shanuh even if he was here but he isn't," he explained, not as fast as he might have once, when his words had seemed as frantic and blurred as the bird himself, but with the same lilting and happy quality he always had. Pity it wasn't infectious, Iamel could do with some blithe happiness, and Calytae had plenty to go around.

"How come you're here? Where's yer shiny-man, is he gone with Shanuh too?"


"Shiniee is at work," He said stiffly, chewing at his lower lip with a frown. What was he going to do - kick the humming bird for being giggly and overly close to the slightly claustiphobic woodpecker. "What about your inside-shiny person? I liked her."

He liked Cadence. Not so much with the hummingbird, although he was handling himself quite well, if he did say so himself. What was the best way to distract someone hyper?

...keep them talking.

"Met any other Birds?"

More pondering, his toes still twitching to the beat of a song in his head. "She was on the couch sleeping so I came here because it was boring and she kept saying, 'five more minutes,' and it was probably more like eight minutes. So I came here. So she's prob'ly still bein' sleepy on the couch." He had to take a breath after that, so settled for wolfing down the last bite of sticky bun and licking his fingers sort-of-clean. Needless to say, he would still be sticking to whomever was unlucky enough to be the one he touched first.

"There's other Birds? I only seen... um... was-'is-name, Axis... and the little cousin birds on the balcony. They're always there. She feeds them," he added, still proud of his human for feeding even little unimportant birds. He guessed it was because she liked him--but then, everybody liked him, he knew that--and he was a Bird, so she must like birds, too.

Mordread had seemed to be enthralled by the pets and shook his head. "Hi Iamel" he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I was just looking around. Your dad told me about it and I thought it would be interesting to come and check out this place..."

He coughed and watched the interaction between the two, offering a small smile before moving to the other side of the store. The little boy didn't like him, and obviously didn't want him around.

"Shiniee is at work," The woodpecker informed the cat-boy moodily, narrowed red eyes sliding from the annoying woodpecker to the man who he had last seen in his Shiniees company. "The kittens here taste good, though, 'ccording to the owl."

Grumble grumble, eyes flitting back to the woodpecker. One besneakered shoe moved out, nudging him gently with a little frown, "Axis? There's a bird named Axis? And why wouldyour human feed the little birds?"

Mordread shrugged his shoulders as he looked to Iamel again. "If he's at work, he's at work. Doesn't mean I'm going to leave at your command, little man." he said, leaning against the wall quietly. "Why do you seem to hate me so much anyway? What did I do?"

Mordread was used to being hated, so it was really no big deal to him. He didn't however, like not knowing the reason behind said hatred.

"What do you mean he's moving in?!" Iamels shriek was loud and almost-woman like in it's fury. The small boy was standing on the table in the living room to be face-to-face with his Shiniee, wings outstretched in his anger. "NO! No! Get him out!"

He didn't seem to be having any affect on patrick for once. Even in his anger, iamel could see that his Shiniee was just standing there, helpless, hands outstretched with a shrug. It only served to infuriate the Gaurdian more, head shaking so hard his hair tie fell out, landing in a frazzled heap against the wall.

"NO! I want that fuzzy thing OUT!" He continued to screech out these words, foot stomping on the table he was standing on, face red. "You're MY SHINIEE! MINE! He's NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE YOU! MINE!"

Patrick flinched back from the Gaurdian, his hands raising in a defensive posture from the others wrath. "Iamel, please stop screaming! He's hurt and--"

"NO! I don't CARE! Get him the ******** OUT, PATRICK!" Despite it being the first time he spoke the others given name, it didn't make the little woodpecker falter. Jumping down from his stance on the table, small hands ball into fists in the others shirts, shoving at him violently. "NO! Get him OUT! I want him OUT, Shiniee!"

It's not like the Companion could shove the kid back - he cared about Iamel! Didn't he? Yes. He did. The helpless expression in his eyes only deepened, trying to wrestle his arms around the boy, to calm him down somewhat. Each little shudder of resistance only fueled Iamel on, screaming and writhing against Patrick.

Small wings flexed, being caught by painted nails or anger instead, and it allowed several black and white feathers to fly free. Iamel didn't stop screaming about how Patrick was his and how he wouldn't share AGAIN - NONONONONONONONONONONONONO!

Patrick eventually managed to pin the squirming child to the floor, his thin chest heaving, legs holding the others lower body in place while his fingers had wrapped themselves around Iamels wrists, pinning him to the ground. "STOP!"

Iamel froze at the bellow leaving his Shiniees lips, eyes wide and suddenly childlike as he shrunk back into himself. Shiniee was glaring at him - he was angry. "...you're mine." Still he protested, voice small and sniffling, fingers curling agaisnt Patricks darker palm. There was a large bruise forming on Iamels cheek from the struggle - Patrick hadn't meant it to happen but he was just not feeling it himself.

"NO, Iamel. I am NOT yours! I belong to ONLY myself and you have to REALIZE THAT." Patrick wasn't speaking in loud tones anymore (he was hissing infact) but the very act of speaking softly with such anger in his voice made Iamel realize how furious the older man was. "This is NOT your house, Iamel. This is MY apartment and whoever I want to live here can LIVE HERE. You have no CHOICE in the matter, do you understand this?!"

Iamels chin shuddered at that, eyes going awash with tears and hurt. Shiniee...he wasn't his? "...but.." He hiccuped, tears spilling out of the corner of his eyes, "But you have to be mine...If... I-"

"No." His voice was gentler this time around, but still firm. "No, Iamel. I'm not yours. I care about you and I take care of you, but you can't control my life. I'm sorry. Love doesn't work like that."

"I DON'T love you!" This was Iamels revenge on the older man, small hands wrenching free and shoving at Patricks chest with abnormal strength. Scrabbling out from under him, Iamel pushed himself to his feet, sniffling and trying to scrub tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "I don't! You're mean and you don't care about me at all! All you care about are the books and the cute things like Akuti and the ******** cat! Well - well I hate YOU! Leave me alone!"

It would've been funny if Iamel had stormed into his bedroom. Unfortunetly, the little bird stumbled away from Patrick and moved out the door to the house, slamming it behind him as he ran off.

Patrick just sat there, eyes wide and his hands shaking. "...s**t..."

It was Taylor who pushed open the door, a very flustered-looking and red-faced Taylor with her hair sticking in all directions, wearing sweatpants, a blue hoodie with Maxwell's Equations written on the front in black marker, a long red-and-white scarf, and only one sock.

"Listen, Matt," she said loudly and angrily, talking to a space about a foot over Iamel's head, "I am not going to let you copy my lab report and that is FINAL. Do you understand- huh?" She blinked, shook her head a couple of times in a bewildered fashion, and finally looked down. "Iamel? What the- holy s**t, you look frozen! Do you want to come-"

"IAMEL!!" Taylor was pushed roughly to the side by the owl-boy, who immediately grabbed both of Iamel's hands and yanked him into the small, messy room. "Hi! I didn't know you knew where we lived. Get inside." He didn't seem to notice that the boy's hands were essentially miniature ice cubes. "This is my room. Taylor uses some of it. Here's where I sleep," he added, pointing to a rough blanket nest and a tower of blue plastic milk cartons that was decorated with little bones and (as a festive touch, apparently), several strings of blue and white Christmas lights. He also had Taylor's laptop computer propped on one of the milk cartons. It was playing "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" with the sound off. "Nice, huh?"

He didn't seem to care that the temperature of the room was practically identical to that of the outside, or that there was a large drift of snow on the floor in front of the window. It looked like he had been making snowmen. Little decapitated snowmen.

"Out of the way." Taylor stepped past them and over a pile of laundry to the wide-open window and slammed it shut. "Diacyn, don't you dare open that again, he's cold and I don't think he likes it. Now... what in the world are you doing out here in the cold?"

Taylor wasn't a maternal sort of person, but the sight of the half-frozen woodpecker made her worried. What was little Iamel doing running around in no shoes without his precious "Shinee?" Weird.



"Shiniee yel--gyah!" He squeaked as he was grabbed by Diacyn, another skin on his rather comforting and he all but clung to the owl boy as he was 'shown' around. Even Diacyns cloth on his fingers helped warm the chill, eyes wide and grinning a little bit, despite his chill. Truthfully, he really couldn't feel it right now - he was cold cold cold but didn't notice.

"I like--" Again, cut off by Taylor, head tilting a bit to stare at the human. Unconciously, he edged a little closer to Diacyn, fingers curlign closer on the bird-boys arms, as if trying to hide behind him. In the warmth, the bruise forming was even more obvious, but he didn't bother hiding it.

"...Shiniee and I got into a fight. So I left. I..forgot to put on shoes." His lips quirked into a frown, glancing down at his blue little toes. They wriggled, but he only felt a little of it. "I'm cold."

"What happened to your face?" Taylor said worriedly. She bent over to touch the bruised skin, stopped short (personal space, Taylor) and instead bit her thumbnail anxiously. "Did Patrick- he didn't, did he?" Another nail bite and a worried little frown. "What did you fight about?"

She thought of calling Patrick up, realized she didn't know his number and that wouldn't probably be a good idea right now, and decided to wait. "Lemme get you something hot. Can woodpeckers eat chocolate? I don't know..." she trailed off, mumbling about chocolate poisoning in dogs and cats but not rats as she started digging in the mini-fridge under her desk for some milk to make hot chocolate. "Diacyn, give the kid a blanket. You're the one who took them all, and you don't even get cold."

He didn't get cold, but he did have some sympathy for Iamel. He imagined being cold would be just like when he was too hot- nasty. "That was dumb," he said bluntly. "You need shoes or your toes'll fall off. I don't think that would be fun." Grudgingly, he pulled a blanket from his nest and handed it to Iamel. "Wrap it around your feet or something, I guess."

"I can eat anything humans do," His voice was soft, blinking again at the nail biting. "Didn't what?" A faint frown curled his slightly blue lips. Hands rose, rubbing at them almost roughly, eyebrows knitting together.

"His boy...thing moved in. I hate him. He's stupid and a jerk and furry and he's a cat. I hate cats." A soft grumble, still rubbing at random parts of his body with a sigh. "An' I yelled and he yelled back...so I hit him. And he pinned me to the floor an' kept yelling. So I left. I hate him too."

Another rub to his lips, frowning slightly before his eyes went back to Diacyn. He was still sticking rather close to the other bird, draping the blanket around his entire small frame, big red eyes still peering at Diacyn.

"I was mad," He explained, shrugging a little bit. "So I left. ...not fun but.." A pout, cuddling against the blanket, toes rubbing against each other to get the blood flowing. "Thank you."

"Here you go." Taylor handed Iamel a cup of hot chocolate, fresh from the microwave. "No problem at all." The poor kid looked so vulnerable, wrapped up in the large blanket with his bare toes peering out from under the edge- not exactly cute, just small and alone. Against all better judgment, she wanted to give the guy a hug.

"So... you ran away? And hit Patrick? Because of... wait, this is about a CAT?"

Ooooookay.

"You can't just run away because you don't like cats... unless you're allergic, I guess. And what I mean is, did he hit you? You're bruised..." again, the reaching out, sudden remembering, and anxious nailbite. "He can't hit you. That's not right," she said, suddenly fierce. "Not right at all. Are you sure this is about a cat?"

"Not a cat cat, human," Diacyn said lazily, leaning back in his blanket nest and eyeing the muted movie, completely oblivious to the more troubling parts of Iamel's tale. "He's talking about something like us. Don't look so goddamn freaked out. Remember the wings?" He fluttered them scornfully. "Well, at least, I think he is. Maybe it's a real cat. I could karate him for you," he added to Iamel. "Or... com'ere and watch this. You can learn."

It was a good movie for learning karate. Well, it hadn't quite taught him the art of prancing around on treetops with swords and things, but it was still pretty darn good.

Taylor got a glare for thinking Patrick would ever hit him. "He didn't mean to hit me," He huffed quietly, tugging the blanket firmly around him. "He was trying to keep me from hitting him and his elbow hit my face. It was an accident.." He tapers off to tug the blanket over his head suddenly. He was about to cry again and crying was bad.

Hell, he didn't know why he was crying so much anyway. "A boy cat." Voice muffled, "He makes Shiniees heart go fast and makes him smile and it's not right 'cause he's MINE."

Trying to get back in a better mood, the little woodpecker boy waddled obediantly over to Diacyn and flopped...well, onto him. His hearing was pretty good but...he couldn't tell where he was going from under the blanket. Wriggling a little, he slid off the owl and peeked from the blanket.

...blinkblinkblink. "....how can they jump on trees?" Voice curious, "They're humans. Humans shouldn't jump on trees..they'd BREAK.." Obviously, Diacyn knew everything. -_-;;

"What in the name of-... get off." Diacyn shoved Iamel good-naturedly to the side and off his lap. "Hmm." He wrinkled his nose, thinking. "I dunno, really." He'd jumped on a good amount of trees in his short lifetime, but that had mostly lead to falling and snow up his nose and Taylor banging her head against the wall. The whole thing didn't seem to work. "Well, it's a movie, so that bit's not real, I guess. Unless they've got invisible wings or something." Even THAT seemed like a pretty dumb idea- Taylor would call it a hypothesis- but it was all he had for now. "You have any ideas?"

Taylor didn't have the heart to tell them that it was all wires and blue screens and junk. Let them have their magic kung-fu. They'd figure it out soon enough.

Besides, she had better things to figure out, like who the "boy cat" was. "How old is he?" she asked Iamel. "Unless... you don't want to talk about it." She could see him blinking very fast to keep the tears back, and she knew how that felt. All horrible and knotted up inside. Poor Iamel.

"You can just watch the movie if you want." She was sure the boy knew that he shouldn't have hit Patrick and should be getting home sometime soon... for now, he was just looking for someplace safe and warm and friendly. And his "home" didn't seem to be working out right now.

"In the name of what, Diacyn?" He snorted faintly, snickering softly, "Shanuh? In the name of all that is shiny, there is a woodpecker!"

Sure, it was damned silly, but Iamel needed something to giggle about. He curled up next to Diacyn, eyes on the move, nose wrinkling. "...strings?" He suggested, shrugging, "Maybe they have a big dome and all the people are conencted to strings! That would be so cool! To be flying on a - the cat is older'n Patrick. Felt older anyway - string! It'd be so much fun."

An enthusiastic nod, his head peeking out slowly from the blanket.


"Yeah, strings, probably. Little thin ones. Or maybe they've just got genetically engineered superstrong trees. I'd like to see some of those! Besides, who needs strings? We'll fly without them someday." He poked Iamel in the head (a little harder then strictly neccecary) and jokingly tried to steal the boy's hot chocolate. It was hot, so he didn't like it, but it was all about the challenge of whipping the cup out of Iamel's hands before he could be stopped.

"What I meant was, in the name of... well, I don't know, really. Just the first half sounded good. I like shiny. Or icy. In the name of all that is icy, uh... "

Apparently the creative phrase generator bit of his brain was broken.

Okay. So it was an older sort of cat boy. She didn't want to know where he had come from. Maybe a dead kitten... or a furry catnip mouse. If Akuti could be a horseshoe then anything was possible.

And... hold on.

Did Patrick like him?
Patrick had catboy boyfriend?

Holy cow.

Iamel squealed at the poke to his head, body twisting to press his foot against diacyns chest. He slurped noisily at the hot chocolate, laughing and shoving at Diacyn with the foot, his little wings flapping under the blanket with a grumble.

"In the name of popsicles?" He asked helpfully, toes wriggling at Diacyns chest before he finished the hot chocolate. Successfull in keeping it from Diacyn, he stuck out his tongue, bright pink from the heated drink.

"She shut up." He paused, head craning to look at the shell shocked Taylor. "What?"

"Popsicles? Those are good." Diacyn grabbed Iamel's foot in a modified armlock and squeezed his (now slightly less frozen) big toe. "Ha. Got you now. In the name of feet, gimme your chocolate!" He grabbed for the cup again, finally got it, found it empty, and huffed with mock disapointment.

"Oh, her?" he added, looking over his shoulder at Taylor. "She does that when she doesn't know what's going on."

Taylor supressed a snicker at the antics of the two. "Diacyn, you don't even like hot chocolate. You moron." The boy did his best to look wounded, but Taylor knew he didn't really mean it. If he was truly upset she would be getting more then a sick-puppy look.

Curiosity got the better of her. "The cat-boy... did he appear like you guys did? Or what? And... is he really Patrick's... you know?"

Damn it all. Now she was going to giggle like a goddamned schoolgirl. So she pretended she was laughing at the birds again. Diacyn still had Iamel in a footlock and didn't look like he wanted to let go anytime soon. Where had he learned that one?

"I like popsicles," Iamel agreed with Diacyn, squeaking a little bit as his foot was grabbed and squeezed. His toes wriggled at the indignacy of being squeezed and tried to push their way up to post at Diacyns chin.

The woodpecker smirked alittle bit, leaning over to flick at Diacyns nose with a giggle. "You look like someone just ate your kitten. Wait. Not a big deal for you." He stuck out his tongue a little bit before twisting his head to peer at Taylor once more.

"..yeah. He just had a tail an' ears and stuff. I told him Diacyn would eat him but I think he's too big." He huffs softly, nose wrinkling a little bit at the thought of Diacyn not being able to eat the kitty boy, "He was sleeping in his bed and I smelled him on my Shiniee..." A faint shrug, frowning a bit now. He doesn't like to remember stuff like that, damnit. T__T

So he turned his attention back to Diacyn and huffed, toes wriggling once more and pushing at him. "Lemme gooo~ That's my foot!"

"..you're home." Iamels voice was flat from the doorway of the apartment. Ianna had dropped him, Akuti and the wand off after spending Christmas eve with her. While the visit had been pleasent one (with Ianna giving Iamel several old, shiny gold coins as a gift, and some games), the woodpecker didn't find himself much pleased with the fact that his Shiniee had opened the door to let them back in smelling of sweat and other bodily fluids.

Patrick hesitated and smiled wryly, shrugging and dragging his son in by his shoulder. Iamel soon found himself hauled up against the others thin frame, decorated hands patting his back a little. While he was unresisting to the embrace, the tri-headed little prat simply leaned into him, neither returning or pushing away from the other.

"Iamel," The dark mans voice was soft against the boys ear, "Listen to me, ok?"

"You brought home another kid." His own voice was stony in comparison to patricks attempted soothing one. Small hands, decorated in the cheap plastic bracelets Ianna had gotten him, rose and pushed at the mans chest, diminutive frame twisting. "Let me go."

"Exactly - listen to me, ok? She's a paradise Parrot, she's a bird, like you, and she's why I don't have to go to work anymore." His voice was quick, grabbing at Iamels wrists to keep the boy from tugging himself away. Indeed, the last words made the child of death pause, suspicious red eyes on the darker man, "Yeah. I dont have to go away for ten hours every day to work at that place because I'm getting paid to raise her and take care of her like I would anyone else."

That held Iamels attention, his lips pursed contemplatively as this ran through his head. His SHiniee didn't have to leave the house for so long anymore? He could stay home..just because of a little baby?

"...so you didn't get her because you wanted her?" Iamel frowned slightly still but he was no longer resisting the others hold, looking up at his Shiniee.

"Well.." Patrick paused, lips pursing. "I wanted her because she's..she's different, Iamel. I'm curious, just like you are. You were created from magic - she was created from science. See?"

The usually angry woodpecker went silent for once, still partially glaring at his father before relenting, sighing softly. "...are there going to be anymore stupid things?"

"Other then the wand?" Patrick asked. Iamel hesitated and then nodded slightly, lips pressing together again, "Maybe. I don't think so. If there is, only one more, but I doubt it'll happen."

Red eyes narrowed again, small body shifting to twist away from his father once more. "I don't WANT there to be more babies! There's already the stupid ******** cat, the horse, the damned BIRD, the wand and me! What do you want with MORE goddamn babies, huh?! Aren't we enough?! Am I not enough?!"

Silence reigned for a moment, Patricks eyes wide behind the thick glasses, lips slightly parted in shock, eyebrows knitted up together. "Is that what you think, Iamel?" When Iamel didn't respond, even for a harsh retort, but simply looked away, Patricks jaw fell open a bit more, "Look, Iamel, I know I'm not born father-material, but I don't get another kid just because a child isn't good enough!"

"Just..jesus, Iamel. Look, Akuti was an accident and I can't HELP myself from adoring her. No one can. The wand CHOSE me, just like you did! You both chose me, ME! Lahela needs someone to look after her - she was abandoned by her old Shiniee, d'ya understand? Her Shiniee found her, took care of her and left her, because he didn't love her. She needs a family because her old Shiniee didn't like her - she NEEDS us. She needs you. A big brother with wings and feathers just like her, who knows what it's like to feel abandoned."

Iamel deflated a little bit at that last part, chewing just slightly at his lower lip. "She won't take you away, Shiniee?" His voice was soft, low, fingers moving to hook slightly in Patricks shirt.

"No one can take me away, Iamel," He assured, fingers moving to touch the young boys face. "Okay? You can be annoying as ******** and you have...questionable taste in friends and I have more kids then just you, but not even Mordread and a truckload of kids could make me think you're anything but fantastically quirky and smart. You're my first brat, the only one who made me scream like a little girl. You're the only one I've chased down in the freezing cold or stood up to Shanuh for."

"...okay," He relented, quietly, fingers tightening in his shirt.

Relief flooded the dark man, fingers tightening from their position on the childs shoulders. "Okay? You won't run off and have Diacyn try to paper-roll smack me?"

A faint smile quirked at the boys lips, sighing and leaning a little bit into him. "...yeah. Okay. I won't tell Diacyn." He recieved a smile as well from the taller darker man, fingers moving to ruffle that gold, orange and red hair, lips quirking into another soft smile. "Can we open presents, now?"

The eagerness in his young voice made the other laugh softly, scooping up the little woodpecker and glancing back. Mordread and Akuti were setting up the presents under the big Christmas tree, Lahela crawling about their feet with snaps and giggles. The wand was resting above the television, the small wisp from its top content on the top of the warm surface.

"See,Iamel?" He whispered gently into his sons ear, "You haven't lost me. You've gained more people to love you."

The statement was corny...but it was the right thing to say. Arms wound around the Shiniees neck quietly. That's where he stayed for the rest of the day.

Shanuh stared at Nikel and Jojo, scowling ever so slightly. They had actually closed down the Birdcage. The door had been locked, the little friendly "Open" sign flipped over, and the lights had been dimmed.

For once, Shanuh wasn't required to work. Instead, he'd been dragged (almost kicking and screaming) by his fishnet and bondage straps down the road to Shadyside Apartments.

The entire complex was lit up with strings of lights, some golden-white, others coloured. Paper lanturns donned each of the the apartments windows, a lovely gift to brighten up the holidays from the Landlord to his paying rentors.

Of course, the majority of the complex was empty, which is why (according to Nikel) this place made an ideal party room. A giant sign which blinked on and off had been placed crookedly above the entry way of the complex. The words, which were a mixture of yellow and green, read "Party" with an arrow pointing down.

Taped to the glass window next to the door, was a small slip of paper. In scribbled handwriting it read:



Shanuh gave a snort, glowering at the little sign. Or else? What sort of mundane threat was that? Well, Shanuh mused, it was JoJo. And he did have a temper behind his relaxed, laid-back, carefree facade.

He was the Guardian of Genocide, was he not?

He certainly knew how to cause a specticle when he wanted to.

Which made Shanuh wonder. He wasn't going to blow anything up today, was he? Part of Shanuh wouldn't have been surprised at all if it WERE on the other death's list. There was that awful 4th of July event he'd held a decade ago - how many people had died?

Still - this wasn't just for people, though strangers had muddled there way in to investigate. Who wouldn't want a free party when food was involved?

"Come on~!" Nikel urged, pushing the other man through the door of the complex. "You just have to try the snacks I made. I haven't used an oven in years so I'm excited to see what you think!"



Shanuh tried not to roll his eyes. Celebrating wasn't his thing. New Years was an event that should be celebrated by the companions and guardians, by Nikel and JoJo. NOT by him.

It wasn't his style, to participate in such activities. Oh no.

But there was no way he was going to get out of this. Yet.

"The party isn't going anywhere, Nikel. Nobody's even here yet, so I don't see why you're--"

"Oh and there's mistletoe too! Ohhh! I hope JoJo put that up just for me!" Nikel didn't hear a word his friend said. Instead, so caught up in the thought of good food, and good New Years company, the effeminate one twirled.

His mini-leather skirt hardly moved, but it didn't have to. There was enough of his milky white legs to be seen without the skirts assistance. "Won't this be lovely? All of us together - and the children too! It'll be their first real party, won't it? We have to make it good!"

Shanuh didn't argue that.

Perhaps that was the only reason he was attending. For them. The children. His children.

They and their companions had all been invited, and of course, all the Birds that perched upon his rooftop.

Wait.

Birds.

How were they going to attend if this was an indoor thing?

"Nikely-" He started, only to be cut off again.

"Got it covered. The basement isn't completely underground," JoJo lazily explained. "I opened one of the basement windows, near the back entranace. They should be just fine."



Shanuh was relieved. Well, at least his two companions had thought about the feathered creatures.

Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad.

Nikel approached, wrapping his arms lovingly around Shanuh and kissing his cheek happily. "Happy New Years, luvie! You need to lighten up." Before Shanuh had time to protest, a disgusting, gliterring, sequence-covered party hat was placed promptly upon his head, and a little toot-horn shoved between his lips.

"Go get yourself downstairs, Mister! I'll go get the punch~!" Giggling, the man scooted off, leaving Shanuh to stare dumbly after.

Well, who was he to argue?

Slowly, properly, he made his way down the few stairs to the basement level of the complex.

JoJo had outdone himself. Tables were set up on the outsides, party favors of all variety present, set next to trays of sandwhiches, cookies, punch, soda, wine, and other trays of treats. Balloons, music, and a large square open to any who felt like dancing.

Strange. This was such a human thing to do - this celebrating.

Shanuh made sure he'd stand in the corner and not participate.



"GAH! IAMEL!" PAtricks voice was a sharp yelp as he was dragged towards the Birdcage by his little woodpecker. Lahela was strapped to his chest - Akilah being asleep and at home with Akuti and the babysitter (god knows where Mordread is), but there she was, a little fluffy, feathered paradise parrot, squeaking in excitement of the moveing. "Where are we going, you brat?!"

"Party!" He squealed, hand tight on his Shiniees, wings outstreaded and happy. He was dressed in some new clothing - cut off shorts that were almost indecent on a child and some shoelaces wrapped around them to form a dangling sort of thing to his knees. A bright pink, glittery shirt, bracelets decorating his wrists and...glowsticks. Tons of glowsticks. Some tied into his hair, in his pockets, around his neck, everywhere.

"Shaaaaanuuuuuuh!" Once the woodpecker spotted the shopkeeper, Patrick was forgotten and the colorful one barraled down to dive-tackle his former 'gaurdian' and fellow bird. He had an armful of Shanuh and twisted his head up to peer at him, smiling widely. "Happy new year, Shanuh!"

Patrick, looking rather tired from the run, was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a loose, dark red shirt. There was, of course, the baby parrot strapped to his chest. She chirruped and eyed Nikel, Jojo and Shanuh warily before shutting up, beak snapping together once.

Shanuh blinked as a small, tiny, brightly-coloured boy tackled into him. Looking down, party hat still snug atop of his head, the man shifted a smidge uncomfortably. It wasn't often a person readily tackled him - Iamel, of course, seemed to be the exception.

"Happy New Year," he recited the lines as poetically as possible, with about as much flavor and excitement as a communal wafer. No, partying wasn't Shanuh's thing - anyone within a mile could sense that.

"I'm glad you could make it," he purred, reaching out one of his long, pale hands to pat the childs head.

So far, there were two of his at the festival - who else might he see? Who else might he greet?

Glancing over, Shanuh gave a slight nod at Patrick, before turning his dual-toned gaze back down at Iamel. "A little bird has told me that your family's gotten larger?" He quirked a delicate brow at the boy, interested in hearing how the little woodpecker was dealing with more-than-one in the family.

With the horse-thing, he'd all but ran away.

He hadn't had any more episodes with the intent to escape again, had he?

"I told Shiniee that I had to see you to start the new year." He nodded firmly, leaning further into the taller, older Gaurdian. Fingers curled into Shanuhs clothing, glancing back at the question about his larger family.

"She keeps Shiniee at home. She's a science project an' he gets paid to take care of her. AND it gets me my own room, all by myself, with no one else! I'm the only one." He nodded firmly, almost bouncing in his excitment. "An' Shiniee said I could have Diacyn over to watch sword movies! So I only have to share when I WANT."

He was still nuzzling into Shanuhs hand - it was as if the taller man was catnip, where Iamel was the kitten. He adored the bigger man...he didn't know why. Shanuh wasn't HIS...but he was still there, with affection and words and advice and he adored him.

"You wanna come see my room when it's done and pretty and my nest? I have a nest."

Patrick smiled sheepishly at Shanuhs look, glancing away. He still felt bad for pissing the man off the first time they met.. Ah well. He'd live. Lahela, little bird hybrid that she was, was still uncomfortable with seeing all those...things like her..but..not like her. It was creepy.

Shanuh was inwardly pleased by Iamel. Of all the birds, he was the only one who'd ever shown an inkling of rememberance. Some, like Xaxis, were too detached to bother. Shanuh understood. Others, he was sure, remembered little or nothing, which was again, completely understandable. But he did appreciate the fact that at least one of his fellows, one of his Birds whom he'd strove to care for, at least seemed genuinely happy and pleased to see him.

That made him happy.

Pleased by how the boy responded to him, Shanuh allowed a genuine little smile to cross his violet lips. "Just tell me when its finished, and I'd love to see your nest!"

He wasn't teasing the child, or joshing him - he was true to his word. Why shouldn't he wnat to see Iamel's room? The boy had invited him. Of course, he wouldn't be surprised if the woodpecker forgot - in a way, Shanuh expected him to. They were human now, afterall. Well - a little human, at least.

Children tended to run their mouths without thinking - whether or not Iamel would remember was completely up to Iamel.

"I will." He nodded firmly, lips curling into a wild smile. Iamel NEVER forgot. Grudges were held forever and so were affections - he was a stubborn thing, like an elephant and the never forgetting...ness.

"It's red and gold and shiny and stuff. I think I can even get Diacyn NOT to leave rabbit bits all over it." His nose wrinkled, "He let me touch his wings!" Bounce. Hyper. Excited. Kinda touch. >> The taller bird fwaped him in the head after he asked but...it happened, damnit. So it works.

"D'ya gots a restalution? Shiniee says everyone has to have a restaloution."

Shanuh looked down at Iamel, his dual-toned eyes lighting at his question. Restalution? Silly thing, but the man wasn't going to bother correcting him.

As much as he liked to pretend he cared little for humans and their spawn, he did care for the Birds that he was created to protect and guard. Like any parent, he took joy in their joy, and hurt when they hurt. Heaven forbid one ever come running to him to complain about a particular being. The results could end up being fatal.

The man with the dark, unnatural violet hair looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to come up with something. It didn't really work. There was nothing for him to resolve, nothing for him to want or need to change or fix.

Resolutions were human things, and Shanuh preferred to think himself as not of their race. He only played pretend, really. If he allowed himself to enjoy humanity and all their sins, and all their little secrets, the man feared he'd fall in love with humans all over again.

That wasn't something he'd been created to do.

"I'm sorry, pet," he finally subcomed to his indecision, "But I can't think of a single thing. Restalutions," he said the word carefully, hoping to get it right, "aren't really my thing. But who knows? Perhaps I'll come up with something before the night is through?" Hoping to change topics, he continued, "And what of yours? What did you and your Patrick come up with?"

He felt the presence of the Kestrel, as well as their few mortals whom arrived. Still, he was busy - he'd spare the mortals a look later, and would greet the Kestrel in due time, just as he would Rascir.

"It's okay," He assured the taller man. Iamel had figured that Shanuh has no restalution when it had taken him so long to think. Shanuh was always so sure on what he thought - about humans. About Shiniee. About life in general. The woodpecker didn't mind him not knowing this once, "That just means next year we'll have to figure one out for you."

A small hand, where it was curled in Shanuhs scant clothing, somewhere, relaxed and gave his back a reassuring little pat. It's okay, Shanuh! You don't have to know today. there's always next year.

Iamel assumed there was next year. And who knows? There might be a next year... Depends what life had in store for them.

"Me an' Shiniee? He said mine was to stop being a little brat and stop being so possesive, but I said that was stupid because he's mine and I'm allowed to be possesive over what's mine. So I decided to eat more'n just crickets and beetles and bugs. 'Cause they're good, but the meerkittie eats them too an' I don't want to eat like he does. Shiniee hasn't told me his yet, though."

A soft huff from the child who had hardly taken a breath since he started talking. Something about Shanuh brought out the childish, brought out the eager want to show him that he could do something, that he knew something. Almost like a puppy, eager to please, save that Iamel just wanted to show Shanuh that he was capable and could be cool one day too.

"The big raptor found someone?" THe child paused, twisting slightly (although not letting go of Shanuh - he was still firmly clutching and clinging). "And a girl. ...Is he gonna try to eat her or something? 'Cause Taylor's a girl an' she yells at Diacyn for eating mice in the house."

Completely uninvited, and totally uncalled for, Cat Cheshire makes he way down to the basement... on the ceiling. He's been on the ceiling all night, mind - this was just a pleasant retreat from being on a big BALLROOM ceiling, to this nice, dark, cozy little-GYAH! He saw people down here, and panicked, scurrying to the far side of the basement near the open window, and watching - until, that is... he saw things with wings. Being a cat-boi, he started to drool. Things with wings made pretty good meals.
And so - he dropped from the ceiling to the floor, crouched, and lashed his striped tail. Things with wings were going to be his for munchiings.
He started singing - inching up while he almost-whispered the lyrics.

"T'was brillig... and the slithy toves..."

Inch Inch.

"Did gyre..."

Inch.

"And gimble in the wabe..."

Inch Inch Inch.

"All mimsy were... the borogroves..."

Inchinch.

"And the mome raths..."

Inchinchinch. He was very close to a woman, and a kestrel by now. Tasty tasty thing with wings!

"Out...."

He bunched himself up, lashing his striped tail back and forth.

"GRABE!"

And he pounced!

"Wait. The party's in a BASEMENT?"

Taylor peered curiously into the open window. There were lights and streamers and punchbowls, all right. And people... people probably getting drunk on whatever the hell was in the punchbowls. A normal enough party... but if it was run by this creepy petshop owner...

"Outta the way. I'm going to party, even if you're not." Diacyn darted past her, a noisemaker in each fist and one of those annoying things that go 'fweeee!' in his mouth. He'd decided party hats were too cliche for him and had wrapped silver Christmas tinsel around his bald head instead.

Gracefully, he leapt through the window, twirling both noisemakers as he did so. His bare feet hit the floor with a soft 'thump.'

"Party tiiiiiiiime!!!" 'FWEEEEEE!'

"Oh, wonderful," Taylor grumbled, hoisting herself not-so-gracefully through the window after him. Maybe if they were lucky they could make it to midnight without him hurting somebody.

And she was sort of party-ready... no hats, but she did have sparkly earrings and a can of Mountain Dew (for staying awake), so why not make the best of it?

There was Shanuh! Lithle spotted the man almost immediatly. Rather hard to miss, all told, though the party wasn't free of other unsuals. Probably, she should have returned to the birdcage immediately, the next day even, and demanded an explination. But life had gotten in the way, as life was prone to doing. And things had gotten worse.

Now they would have words.

A vague, whispery singing drifted up to her beneath the louder party sounds, irritating and strange. Nonsense words, making the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. Too many years hunting, running the wild paths. It had made her cautious, and more than that.

Absently, or seemingly so, she reached under her coat, searching fingers touching cold metal. There now. It was probably nothing, but better safe than dead.

Fingers coiled around the weapon, she began to turn, still casually. There, behind her. Almost no chance to react when she was suddenly pounced, hitting the ground hard, the Kestrel launching himself from her shoulder.

Well trained reflexes had her turning as she fell, so that she ended up facing her attacker. Hand gun was pulled from her coat in a swift, almost elegant movement, and aimed, unshakingly, at the one who'd thrown her to the ground.

How dare it! How dare some strange thing attack his chosen. Throwing him from a perfectly decent perch and making him fly when he really wasn't in the mood. Below him, his dark ember one was flaring, all fitful fire and fury. It was good to see her angry, to see her alive, but that didn't mean the attacker could be forgiven.

He was only a very small raptor, but he was preditor none the less. This one, this cat/man would pay. Folding his wings, he dove, straight at the cat/man's head, ready to bring blood to surface.


Shanuh had been spending a moment with Iamel when the event occurred. He was pleased that the little woodpecker had decided that he'd try to eat other bugs, trying to prove he was different and unique. He was pleased also that he'd taken an interest in some other Guardians as well.

"Indeed, the falcon has picked out a partner, though I don't think they're going to - " He stopped, having looked over at the pair in discussion.

What on earth? He'd looked over at the time the woman had fallen, a man-cat-thing on top of her, and the Kestrel pushed to flight.

Instantly, Iamel was forgotten, and he pushed himself up, not at all happy. Who on earth. . . ?

Given, this party was open to everyone, but a cat!? Not just a feline, but a metahuman! The NERVE of the man. Shanuh, who had been relaxed and almost gentle moments before, changed into that of an ice demon. Rage wasn't even the start of his feelings.

Anger, hate, loathing and insult - how dare someone attack a guardian and their companion!

He marched over to the scene, heels clicking against the wooden floor. Yes, he noticed the gun in Lithle's hand, as well as the Kestrel's talons. He wasn't going to interfere. . . yet.

But if this cat didn't stop, he'd wind up shot, or worse.

~ ~ ~

Xaxis, of course, was shocked. Not only was the Girl pushed down, but the raptor was already starting to attack. A hiss escaped his throat, anger pushing past his sickness and disease. Nobody touched his friends, or their companions. Not even if it was a cat!

How terrible of him. He dropped his cup, trying madly to spread his wings but having little luck in the jacket. Oh well! He could take his jacket off later~!

Pushing himself closer, he could only hope the Kestrel would beat this other one up. Bigtime. The little raven wasn't happy, no no no. He'd pluck the cats eyes out of his head if given the oppurtunity. Just wait and see!



Iamel didn't mind being forgotten this one time. One of the Companions was in danger of b eing hurt - therefore, it was more important then he was. He knew that. It didn't bother him.

But the little one who sang and was all...dreamy was there. That was odd. The little woodpecker hopped away, not towards his Shiniee, his nose wrinkled. "That kitty boy is deaaaad~"

That was as close as he'll ever get to singing (in public). A soft singsong statement. It was then he noticed Diacyn, with his head wrapped in tinsel.

...SNORT.

"You look like a Christmas special."

Cat backpedaled quickly, and hightailed it up the wall, to rest in the corner of the ceiling like to trapped spider, hissing and spitting for all he was worth. Tasties was NOT worth this! He made himself bigger by puffing out his fur, but kept a safe distance. He was screaming at them.

"Tasties the not to the Cat want eat shoot the Cat if!"

... the boy made absolutely no sense whatsoever. And a boy he was - couldn't have been more that fifteen - not even legally an adult as of yet. His eyes were large in his head with fear at the gun and the bird - one was blue, the other green. His pink and purple stripes blurred as he lashed his tail in fury and fear. Tasties were NOT supposed to attack HIM!

Well then, good of the cat person to have backed off. Keeping her gun trained steadily on the retreating boy, Lithle pushed herself back to her feet, leaving bruises to be tended to later. Old scars ached. But old scars always ached.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Kestrel pull out of his dive, having missed his chance to attack. Still, it was a good try. Lithle felt a fleeting sense of pride at his quick actions.

But most of what she felt was fury, a deep, pulsing burn that ran through her, made her awake and aware. It was a feeling she knew well, the old rage, the strong sort. It brought her closer to Him than anything else, except, of course, the pain. And it brought her back to that night, the last night. The gun shook in her hand as she fought back the other feeling. The dark loss that paired with the anger.

Not now. She steadied the gun, kept it aimed at the catthing. It was babbling now, a stream of confusing words that made no sense in context. She understood them individually, but couldn't string them together for meaning.

His backing down meant little. The rage was in her. She was ready to kill.

As he understood that the flame was a good thing, he also understood its danger. He knew that the anger could devour her whole, burn her out. And he could almost feel the threat of the other thing, the dark thing, coming to overwhelm her. It wasn't hard to sense. It was of his realm.

If she shot, she would fall again. Wings broken, feathers torn. He wasn't sure if she could keep falling and still get back up. Only so much would still burn on a bed of ashes.

Fighting back his own anger for later use, he landed carefully on her shoulder, not cutting, not hurting. Now was not the time to further her anger. Instead, he called to her with his gentler voice, the one that wasn't a scream, brushing his head gently against her cheek, feathers on skin.

Don't let her. He turned his dark gaze to Shanuh, the command almost desperate. It was not in him to ask for the aid of others, but this was different. He could not yet speak the words to make her calm again. His kindred would hear him to, and perhaps interfere if it came to that. She needed to stop. He couldn't have her breaking.

"H-Hey, chica.." This was Patricks voice, nervous and shaking, very much a human, a scant two feet away from her and the catthing. He had freaked a little when it tackled her and he'd grabbed at his own little birdie child strapped to his chest...

But now she was about to kill something in front of a room full of kids. That wasn't a good thing and he didn't need his three years of Psychology to tell him that.

So instead...he tried to calm her down. It probably didn't help but.. "If it backs off and leaves...don't shoot him?" He hoped she could hear him. He doubted she could. "He's just some stupid challenged cat-thing... If he backs down..don't shoot him?"

Shanuh watched the scene, his eyes pinned not on Lithle with the gun, but on the cat creeping up the wall. He was livid, and not at all pleased, though his entire body language spoke of a placid calm.

Thunder rolled beneath the surface, and his blood seemed to boil. How dare he! The disgust and anger was all but ready to explode from him, but he kept his emotions in check.

If the woman shot him, than so be it. They could hide the corpse easily enough - life was good to them that way.

Despite his own personal biases, the little Kestrel's command shot through any of his own feeling. "Control yourself," He commanded himself, his words directed only at Lithle. They burned, they weren't just words, but strings. As if she were nothing more than a puppet and he something else - something larger - something different.

Which, of course, he was.

He was closer to a god than she, or any in that room, could hope to achieve. Despite being a mirrored wisp of a god, of some higher power, there was the loophole for all humanity: free will.

She had to be the one to decide to control herself, no matter how much Shanuh, the Kestrel, and everyone else begged.
She had a choice to make, a cross road. Which path would she take? Pull the trigger or leave the feline be?

That was what it came down to - and Lithle's choice was now at hand. "He's not worth the bullet."

Xaxis kept his distance from Lithle and the Kestrel. His jacket had been pulled up a bit, his wings still hidden spread as wide as he could force them. Still disgruntled over the fact that his friend, HIS FRIEND had been attacked, the little raven hissed again. So what if his throat was raw and hurt?

Nobody messed with his friends.

Nobody.

Still, he'd heard the Kestrel's words, and knew his friend didn't want the cat to die. Why not, Xaxis hadn't a clue, but if that's what his taloned companion wanted, then so be it. He didn't say anything, because when did Xaxis ever really talk? but he did hope that the woman was stopped.

He didn't want the Kestrel upset anymore than he already was.

So much for a party.



"And YOU look like a Christmas tree. You're all glowy. That's cool." Diacyn made a grab for one of Iamel's many glowsticks, then stopped and twirled to see what the commotion was.

GUNS!!!!! And... cats, or something. But GUNS!!!!

Cool cool cool cool cool!!!!! Oh, this was going to be awesome!!!

Taylor barely had time to register the scene- there was Patrick, and Iamel, and a couple other winged kids that she didn't know but now wanted to meet, and a flying bird- and then there was this cat. Thing. Part-cat?

Oh, none of this was making sense. And now a woman had a gun and was going to shoot the cat-thing and Diacyn was practically having a seziure about the whole thing.

Taylor panicked. So she did the only thing that seemed sensible at the time- ducked and hid underneath a table of drinks and hugged her knees to her chest and panicked.

She wasn't very good at the whole bravery/heroics thing.

Only after a couple seconds of getting ready to kiss her a** goodbye if needbe did she calm down enough to realize that Diacyn was still in the line of fire. Oh crap.


The brush of feathers against her cheek. The soft, anxious churring. Words, at a distance, behind the flames, words she wasn't quite capible of understanding just now.

And then Shanuh's words, like being hit by a train. Those rushed past the fire, past everything, and soon Lithle found she was again only embers, and the catcreature was only an idiot. A single, smooth motion had the gun back under her coat, as if it'd never been out. As if death hadn't ridden her only seconds before.

"Shanuh. I need to have a few words with you." Her usual growl was empty again, all hollow echoes of once feeling. If anything, Lithle looked tired, her shoulders slumped, her posture less than its usual militant correctness.

Reaching up, she brushed her fingers lightly over the Kestrel's feathers, a caress that passed only rarely between them. They were not the sort for affection. Made of different, fierce material, both of them.

At the brush of her fingers, the Kestrel launched himself back into the air, and she relaxed. Let him fly.



Keeping his gaze trained on the cat/man, he circled the room, noting the suprising number of his kin that had gathered. He was right, this was a good thing. Of course, they were all far beyond him. He was only young, and they had already taken on new forms.

But that would come for him too, in time.

She is embers again. He told Shanuh. Thanks would be too much. It would be admitting he had needed the help. What he said would have to be enough.

Among his kin there was one he recognized, and he flew down to perch on the Raven's shoulder. Xaxis.

Still, he watched the cat/man not yet satisfied that what had happened was resolved.

"I AM cool," He h uffed out indignantly, curious eyes going to Taylor. "Why're you freaking out? Shanuh'll stop anything. And Shin--Shiniee."

Red eyes snapped open and he twirled around. Seeing his Shiniee near that gun, and Shanuh and everything - he almost ran to see his Shiniee and make sure it was okay but...the kestrel and Shanuh made everything okay. He relaxed.

"Look!" Fingers grabbed at Diacyns sleeve, tugging at it, "Another raptor. You were fluffier then he was, though." A grin before Iamel tried to drag the other over to the kestrel and Xaxis.

Patrick...relaxed. He had spotted Taylor and so, when Lithle had gone unkiller, he simply..moved to the back of the room, frowning slightly. "Oi, Taylor." Rapping at the table. "It's okay. Come out."

Taylor peered very sheepishly from under the table. "Did anybody die?" she asked, trying to grin through a very red blush. Pulling herself out from under the table, she dusted off the front of her black sweatshirt, eyes sweeping around the room cautiously. "I guess I kinda... freaked out."

Sure, she could deal with evil little birdthings trying to mutilate kittens and such... but when it came to real danger she was more spineless then a sea slug. Not the best personality trait.

"So.... some party."

"Oh, cool!" Diacyn, with his usual suicidal diregard for personal safety, tried to get one last look at the woman with the gun before Iamel dragged him off towards two other birds. Yes, there was another raptor, an awesome grey-and-tan creature... a hawk? Kestrel. Yeah. Ooh, it had nice claws. And then there was another one like them, a boy with ragged black wings.

"Hi!" Diacyn said happily, twirling a noisemaker. "Nice to meet you!"

Yes, he was polite. Nobody had done anything to annoy him yet.

All was well again, or so it seemed. The burn and boil that had rocked Shanuh, the hate and anger that the cat had released slowly started to ebb away. His icey stare focused on the cat for but a second, before he turned away in disgust. With any luck, JoJo and Nikel could take care of it, could show it the way out.

It was a slight creature, with a wicked tongue. If the fates had any plan for it, he hoped it would put out of its miserey and destroyed. Stupid animal. Shanuh was impatient with anything that hadn't a smidge of intelligence.

Reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose, doing his best to regain his composure, he looked over at Lithle and nodded. "As you wish," he agreed, moving off to the side of the room, as if nothing had happened. As if the cat hadn't ever interrupted anything, as if a gun hadn't been pulled and the entire party explode with excitement and fear.

"What is it you'd like to speak to me about?" He asked her calmly, not quite dreading the answer or reply. She was a sharp one, and they were far from being best of friends.

Xaxis, on the other hand, watched silently as the gathering seemed to break up. The gun had been put away (why everyone had caused such a ruckus over a weapon, he didn't know), Lithle had wandered away with Shanuh, and the cat was still cornered. His friend, the Kestrel, seemed to be alright, which was also a good thing.

As the raptor landed on his shoulder, Xaxis turned to give his friend a little lookover. He was pleased that he chose to rest on his shoulder, especially since he'd learned about the falcons need for freedom and space.

"I still say the cats eyes get pecked out," he softly explained, his throat a bit raw from all his hissing and anger. Now that his danger-sense had relinquished, the boy almost regretted piping up. Oh well. It was a life worth saving, if he had any say in the matter.

Xaxis liked friends. Friends were good.

And though he didn't say it, he was rather pleased that the Kestrel hadn't become catfood. He never doubted his friend could take care of himself, but sometimes life had a way of throwing curves.

As Diacyn and Iamel approached, the sickly child looked over to study the two, his gaze passive, the light of fire and protectiveness abandoning him, the life that had sparked in the moment of excitement ebbing. He looked hollow and monotnous, as usual, and his silence was quick to return.

He studied first one, a hairless guardian with funky designs, and very white wings - then the other, wild bright hair and little black and white wings. He hadn't met either of them before, so he could only hope they wouldn't be too happy and in-your-face.

"Hello," he greeted blandly, studying the obnoxious noise-makers in Diacyn's hand. He almost cringed at the sound - but then again, Xaxis had every reason not to like loud noise. They made his ears hurt, and at this age, he was getting ear infections every weekend!

Still, he wouldn't complain. Not yet at least.



"You're so WEIRD, Diacyn." Iamel grinned and shoved at his friends shoulder, snickering softly as he peered at the Kestrel - always enraptured by raptors, he was - and then to Xaxis. "I'm Iamel."

A curious head tilted to the side, one hand sneaking to steal the shiny silver stuff of Diacyns head. "You're...a raven? I like your wings. They're big." Blinking almost owlishly at the Xaxis, the tinsel was put firmly atop his own brightly colored head.

"Diaaacyn. Stop making that annoying noise."

"Yep. No one died." He grins a little bit, ruffling at Lahelas little green and blue feathers, making the little girl croon and peer at Taylor curiously.

"Yeah...some party. I think Shanuh was about to spit fire or something."


She was too tired to yell. She was almost too tired to speak. Every peak followed by a subsequent valley, and Lithle was obviously in one now. So there was no rage in her eyes when she looked at Shanuh. There wasn't much of anything. The echoes of pain, but those were almost entirely hidden by apathy.

"I'm getting kicked out of my ******** apartment." She stated, words falling like bullets dropped from an open hand. "For keeping an illegal pet. By the end of the week, your precious bird and I will be sleeping on the street."

She was exaggerating, somewhat. She had Michael, and he'd certainly put her up if she needed him too. But lies left her lips more easily than truths, and she wanted the man to understand. Wanted him to know how much trouble he was causing. "There isn't an apartment complex in the whole damn city that says 'raptors welcome'."


It would have damaged her, to kill him. The Kestrel explained, simply. Absent mindedly, he grabbed his friend's hair in his beak, nibbling a bit on this piece and that. The gesture was an automatic one, but there was some affection in it. You may have his eyes if you like.

And then there were two more coming, both like Xaxis, and he was starting to wonder if he was the only one who still used his wings. It would be nice to have someone to fly with. But, he would walk with them, eventually. Maybe that was almost as good.

A quick hiss at the sound the snowy owl was making, and then he recovered himself, preening his own feathers instead of Xaxis's hair. Having regained his calm, he turned his attention back to the others.

Does everyone walk, but me? An echo of his thoughts, but he was curious.




Xaxis thought little of the hair-nibbling, though inwardly he was again pleased. See? He could make friends too, and what a friend the Kestrel was! Xaxis stood there, scarf still about his neck. He'd shuffeled himself out of his jacket between all of the comotion, sick and tired of his large, molting black wings getting tangled within the fabric.

He was feeling a little better now - at least his wings were. T hey were free from being cramped and stuff, and he stretched them out a bit. He wasn't showing off, mostly because the boy didn't care about display. Besides, his black wings were in need of a good preen, and while now in human form, he couldn't use the delicacies of beak; instead, Lucien had to use a brush, and Lucien, having never been a bird, didn't understand the sensetivities his wings had.

Maybe one of the other Birds could take pity on his plight and preen him.

Maybe he'd ask - but the only one he knew was the Kestrel, and as of right now, he didn't want to assume on their friendship. But they did itch.

Looking from Diacyn, the loud noisemakers in hand, back to the woodpecker, Xaxis stayed quiet for a moment. Part of him occassionally threw the cat a black look - those eyes would be his if he could manage, but for now, he'd content himself with glaring.

Finally focusing on Iamel, Xaxis lamely flipped his wings back. They were awkward and large, and one lone feather broke free, drifting next to some loose down on the floor. Molting. Never fun. "I wish they were smaller," he finally admitted, shrugging his bony shoulders carefully, not wanting to disturb the Kestrel. "They get in the way."

The grass was always greener on the other side of the fence, and Xaxis was almost envious of Iamel's. Even Diacyn's were smaller than his. Argh. He'd always thought they were much to large, now, standing in this circle, was proof.

Oh well. C'est la vie.

At th e Kestrel's wistful plea, Xaxis glanced around. Well, he was the - wait wait, there were a few more coming down the stairs, see?

"You're not the only one," he gestured with one of his wings, pointing out three other birds he'd never meet or seen before. A swan - boy did he look miserable, some green sort of bird, and a little yellow-ish one. Finally, racing down the stairs shortly thereafter, came a very strange looking kid - spiked hair and glasses!

He didn't bother pointing out that he'd change soon enough, surely. It was obvious that that would be the case, so there was no need to speak it. All they could do was wait.

Sniffling again, the boy heaved a sigh, only to listen to his chest choke and splutter with congestion. Ugh. Maybe there'd been too much excitement, all he knew was he felt miserable. No surprise there, of course. He was cold, having taken his wool jacket off, and he wasn't going to bother to pick it up off the floor - they tangled and irritated his wings.

Not to mention, well, when didn't he feel sick? He'd learned to deal with not feeling good - besides, it wasn't everyday he got to meet lots of guardians, all in one place!



Shanuh, across the room, listened to Lithle's complaint. Homeless? Tsk tsk. what a shame. Of course, he didn't say these things, and of course, he wouldn't have ever truly felt them anyway. Still, Lithle was a companion, and thus, she was given special treatement. A step away from humans, she was now considered blessed. Or cursed, really.

Whatever the case, her fate was laced with the first touch of death, all packaged nicely in a pretty, feathered case.

He stood there, tilting his fair head ever so gently, the most compassion seen from him yet. "I apologize for the upset in your complex, but, might I suggest to you a place?"

He didn't bother waiting for a response. If she needed a home that badly, well, JoJo was here for a reason. "The complex you're standing in now accepts pets of any breed, Birds in particular," he explained. "If you're at all interested, might I sugguest you talk to. . . " He paused, his eyes tearing off the woman to search the floor.

Now where had he slipped off to?

Ah-ha!

"Him. The one with the blue hair and goutee sauntering across the dance floor. His name's JoJo, and he's the Landlord and Owner of this complex."


No, Shanuh wasn't going to say he'd do her a favor - he highly doubted she'd want his assistance anyway. Instead, he'd let her fight her own battles, considering she didn't seem the type to appreciate assistance. No wonder the Kestrel and she made a good pair.

~ ~ ~ ((Yes, post mashing - always fun!))

JoJo was indeed making his way across the floor. After the gun and cat incident, he'd decided that the only way to bring life back to the party was to be lively.

Besides, he was pleased at the sight of so many guardians. Things were falling into plan without so much as a hitch. Of course, being the sweet guy that he liked to think he was, he'd seen only one grooving to the music. A cute little thing, who was shorter than him by quite a bit. Maybe the kid wasn't short and small, so much as JoJo was rather tall and lanky?

Regardless, the man with the sunglassed gaze, approached the little dark haired Rascir, a small smile upturning his features. "Care to dance, little tyke?" He extended a hand, playfulness radiating off his person. He hadn't had a chance to meet many of the Guardians, but here was one who'd only been in the company of a stuffed cat.

If no one else was going to dance with Rascir, then he'd surely take the oppurtunity.




"Oh, wow, what is that?" Taylor said, noticing the multicolored bird perched on Patrick's shoulder for the first time. "He? She? Either way it's beautiful." She reached out towards the bird slowly, eager to stroke the vivid feathers but not wanting to frighten or anger it. A sudden thought occured to her. "Is that going to turn into a birdboy too? You were right... there are way more then six. We're doomed."

"Shanuh's here?" she added, looking around the room cautiously. "....wierdo. If I see him I'm probably going to kick his effeminate face in."

Brave words from the girl who had just been hiding under a table.

"No," Diacyn said snottily to Iamel, twirling the nosemaker a bit faster, but even he was getting tired of it and he gave it up quickly. "Myyy tinsel!" He didn't put up much of a fight when Iamel stole it... it had been kind of itchy, and it looked better on glowing, sparkling Iamel anyway.

"I dunno," he said in response to the kestrel's question. "I know Iamel and I do but I don't know who else there is. But I wish I could fly again... these wings are too small." He flapped them a couple of times to demonstrate (and to show off a little. NOBODY else had silent wings).

"I like your wings, uh, Xaxis? Can you fly with them?" The raven's wings were HUGE... molting, sure, but still huge. They alone looked flight-worthy, though the kid they were attatched to didn't. Kind of sickly and scrawny-looking. Then Iamel was distracted again by the arrival of several more birds and a spiky-haired kid who he recognized (he wasn't sure how) as that annoying oriole he'd met when he was still an owl.

This was going to be some party!

"This is lahela, a little abandoned science project." He grinned and plucked the bird anthro up gently, cradling the baby almost delicately. She squealed and wriggled, beak snapping happily.

"Dah!" Another giggle and Patrick just grinned again, sheepishly.

"I get paid for raising her... A place to live, money, etc, just for taking care of her, studying her, stuff like that... Iamel's just happy that he gets his own damn room."

"My tinsel now," He cast his friend a little smirk, head tilting to peer at the molting wings once more. He wanted to touch - but that would be rude unless someone gave permission. Hell, someone touched HIS wnigs and he got grumpy.

Try to touch Diacyn and he'd probably hunt you down and kill you. "I miss flying," The woodpeckers voice is light, eyes focusing in on the kestrel, a little grin on his lips. "Enjoy it while you can, kestrel. Being land-bound is only so much fun. My shiniee doesn't even understand. Diacyn," He jerked his head in the others direction, "Can at least get off the ground a little. I can't even do that.. They're tiny."

Mourning his wings, Iamel was shifting from one foot to the other, glancing at the kid with the brightly spiked hair. Eyebrows shot up. "...so many. I didn't realize there were so many of us."

And Cat watched from the shadows. So many wingthings. It was soooo very tempting, but he was not a stupid kitty, no. He wouldn't try that again. He had to gather his thoughts, and groom his fur. Or gather his thoughts WHILE grooming his fur - either one. He started to lick at the fuzzy-patches on his arms, and to groom his tail while he watched the goings on. Would be fun to stalk, yes - and he could stalk without hurting. Just no pounce. Yesyes - that would be fine.
He started to creep towards the one with the big huge black wings. He didn't know the name, but it was a birdboy. He tried to get around him, thinking to himself that the boy looked a little sickish. He paused, and thought. What had the people in white and red done for him when he was sick? Aaah yes - he remembered now - Water. Water was very good for sickness, or so he was lead to believe.
He snuck up to a table, and snatched a bottle of water off of it when no one was looking. Cold. Good. Cold water is good. He stalked towards the crowboy with the bottle in his mouth - going to offer it up to him, as a "see? No harm done, sorry sorry" offering.

She wanted to be mad at him. Perhaps say something hateful and stalk away. Lithle mostly just wanted to be mad at something, and Shanuh was the most obvious target. But the anger had already burned through and burned her out, leaving only a sort of tired complacency.

Besides, he was being helpful, almost. She really hadn't wanted to move in with Michael, as good a friend as he was. Seeming him, still working, still wild, hurt to much for her to handle it on a daily basis. Oh, she could still enjoy training the dogs, and she liked seeing him on occasion. But every day would be too much.

Better that she distance herself. Better that she put it behind her.

Glancing at the man Shanuh pointed out, she nodded slightly. It was, at least, worth the conversation. And she could handle just about any reasonable rent, Tred looked after its own. At worst, she'd have to do more training. She'd been thinking about taking on some of the recruits, lately.

The sudden movement had her on edge again, almost reaching for her gun. When it only resulted in a rat at her feet, she shrugged, and picked the thing up. The Kestrel refused anything he hadn't killed himself, but the kittens might enjoy it. Finding an empty pocket, she dropped it in absently.

"I'll go talk to him then."


As more birds entered, all in a rush, the Kestrel seemed to relax a bit. Finally, he wasn't the only one that still rode the winds. Oh sure, flying was great, but none of them could remember how frusterating it could be to have this form. He couldn't even open a window on his own.

He hated depending on her for things. He hated depending on anyone for anything.

But you have hands. He pointed out, holding up one taloned foot to demonstrate his lack.

[cont]

[reserved in case the party needs even MORE SPACE like omg]

[tbc when I have less updating to do with everyones journal. The full ahrpee can be seen in the link below:
]http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=2061917]

"Please, Shiniee?" Iamel bounced from foot to foot in his excitement. His lower lip poked out in the semblence of a pout, red/orange/yellow locks flopping with him in turn. "I'm not gonna be big for a long long time - I wanna!"

"Iamel..." Patrick groaned quietly, diapering yashima quickly. The fox child wriggled just slightly in the grip of his new diaper, tail flicking a bit. he remained silent, eitherway. Iamel didn't get a second thought from the foxie-baby.

"Please," He whined, voice sliding up a decibel or two. "PLEASE, Shiniee! I wanna be like Diacyn - HE has one!"

Patrick groaned again, this time silently. So that was why Iamel wanted pierced ears... That little brat of an owl had an extra hole through him. Iamel was just so YOUNG! A thought struck him at that; Iamel was also very, very selfish. his red and black eyes lit up, giving his firstborn son a grin.

"Fine," He retorted, ignoring Iamelse squeal of delight, "But only if the other kids can come and get their ears done too."

Iamel paused in mid-squeak, eyes narrowing in malice. "What?" The boy drawled out slowly, small arms folding in front of his chest. "But they don't WANT it! No fair!"

"It can be a family tradition!" Patrick replied, loving his sweet sweet triumph over the forces of evil. "All new kids can get their ears pierced."

Iamel scowled but, in a period of contemplation, gave a sharp nod. "Fine. Them too."

The black man jolted just slightly at that, frowning a bit. "You - wait!"

But he was too late. Somehow, Patrick found himself at the piercing parlor only an hour later. Iamel had carried Akilah (his new favorite psycho sibling) while Patrick carted a silent yashima nad a giggling Lahela. The bird anthro was quite excited, despite not knowing why. Yashima just cuddled...because he was a good boy - unlike his siblings. Akuti pranced around them happily, little hooves making soft clicking noises against the floor.

"Hey," the lucky father called out to the piercer. She saw the amount of kids he was toting with him (Lahela snapping her beak helped) and she grinned. "Yeah. All of them."

"None for you, sweetie?" Her voice was teasing. patrick grinned and gave the girl a quick wink. "Okay, okay. None for the porcupine. We have a cute redhead -"

"I am NOT cute!"

"An adorable saytr," Akuti beamed, "A...a parrot girl? A cute little kid with fox ears and...?"

"A meerkat."

Akilah heard his species and squeaked happily, fingers twisting in Iamels hair. "Meerkitteh!" The boy crowed this triumphantly, tail curling. The gaurdian winced, head tugging back automatically. "Dawdie! Keela Meerkitty!"

Patrick glanced at the two when he heard that squeal, a grin spreading on his lips. "They're all getting their ears done."

"All?" Eyebrows arched again before that smile returned to the womans face. "Alright then! let's start with the oldest."

"Me?" Iamel looked surprised at that, moving to put Akilah down on the ground. The meerkat scrambled to his feet with a squeak, wobbling just a bit. "Why me?"

"The bravest first then."

His eyes narrowed and Iamel took a step closer. HE was the bravest!