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 Posted: Sat Nov 08, 2008 12:31 pm
Everything was in perfect order. Her scissors were polished, her brushes were clean, and in some cases even brand new, her pigments were arranged in colour order and Feather was standing by to fetch anything that she could ever need. Honeysuckle was ready to meet her new customer. After her clutch hatched she had stopped taking new customers, and asked her regulars to send word in advance so she could make sure someone could watch her sweet little hatchlings, but now when her darlings spent more and more time with Teachers she had more time to devote to her task again.
The fellow she was waiting for now was a bard, and it was his first appointment with her. It shouldn't be such a big deal to get a new customer, but Honeysuckle couldn't help but to feel a little bit excited.
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Posted: Sat Nov 08, 2008 12:55 pm
 Atticus was actually a little nervous. He had never been to a featherstyler before. Of course, he had heard wonderful things about this particular featherstyler, Honeysuckle, but he still had no idea of what to expect. He flew swiftly through the forest, hoping that he would be on time. Finch clung to one of his legs. He had to bring along the mus for moral support. The little creature had the tenacity to tease Atticus for being nervous, but he simply smiled and let the mus have his fun.
Atticus finally reached the right space and landed, walking in nervously. He cleared his throat, and called out quietly, "Hello? Madame Honesuckle? I'm here for an appointment."
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Posted: Sun Nov 09, 2008 5:57 am
Honeysuckle beamed at the male who had just entered the main hollow of their tree. It was usually not difficult for her costomers to find their way in since there was only one hollow in the small territory. Despite her tidying it was evident that fledglings used to live there, little details like the small feathers and battered toys in a corner.
"Welcome," she said to her guest, "Atticus is it? What can I do for you today? A touch up on that dye job? Eartuft styling perhaps? I can also fix damaged flight feathers of course."
She knew that some of her customers came for less glamorous feather problems and Atticus hadn't specified what he wanted in his Chirop Message.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 12:59 pm
Atticus smiled kindly with good humor. It wouldn't due to show that he was nervous. It might make her think he was doubting her skills as a stylist. And it wasn't that at all. Having never been here before, Atticus simply didn't know what to expect. He thought over her question for a moment before answering.
"Well, I've been told, quite kindly, that I'm looking a tad rough around the edges these days. As a bard, apparently we are supposed to look great at all times," he joked. "I think that a touch up on my dye job would be in order and whatever else you would recommend to fix my unacceptable appearance."
Though his words might have been mocking, he delivered them in his normal, slightly self-humored tone.
"A friend recommended me to you. He said that you were the best and that no one else would do. So here I am! I appreciate you fitting me in so quickly."
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Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2009 1:41 pm
"Ah, I see," she said, smiling amiably, "You can't have a bad day if you're a bard, hmm?" Or if you are a Featherstyler, she added silently. But she didn't mind taking good care of her appearance and making sure she always looked as good as she could. It made her happy, and the good shape of her feathers showed everyone that she was a talented Featherstyler.
"No trouble at all fitting you in, darling," she assured the Bard, "I've been dying to work more and it gave my mate an excuse to take our young ones on a special hunting trip."
She walked around the bard once to get a general idea of his previous dye job and the state of his feathers. A bit rough around the edges perhaps, as he put it, but nothing she couldn't fix. The patterns suited him, but a few touch ups would not hurt at all, and she haughtily assumed that she had pigments of better quality than those used by his previous Artisan.
"I'll start with a preening to check the state of your feathers," she explained, "See if anything needs attention. My Mus will help with the preening and I might also use my will at times unless you'd rather have me use my beak only."
She waited politely before starting since some of her customers were slightly shy about this part. Preening could be quite an intimate act, but Honeysuckle had preened many customers and she worked quickly and professionally while still being careful enough not to yank any feathers.
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Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2009 3:28 pm
As an old-ish bachelor, Atticus did not mind any of Honeysuckle's grooming techniques. Though the act could be intimate, the reminder that she did indeed have a mate and young ones would make it completely impersonal.
"Not at all. Please, use whatever techniques you think are best. I place myself in your quite capable care."
Atticus settled in comfortably, making sure he didn't fidget too much. Finch, his companionable mus, had settled at his talons and for all intents and purposes, had fallen asleep. He chuckled a bit at his friend's behavior and decided to let his mind wonder. Perhaps he would be inspired to write a new song or story.
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2009 6:14 am
Honeysuckle didn't need to be asked twice and immediately set to work preening and evaluating his feathers. Atticus would be able to feel the touch of her will from time to time, an unusual if not unpleasant sensation. Feather, the Mus, only needed a brief nod from Honeysuckle to know that it was all right to help out. It paused briefly, nose twitching, as it discovered the other Mus, but Feather seemed to decide that it was best to work first and play later. Soon it was scurrying across the Bard's back straightening out feathers.
"And now your wing," Honeysuckle said and motioned for him to open one of his wings for her, "Did your friend tell you to bring some of your moulted feathers in case I need to imp one?"
Some of her clients trusted her to store a complete set of their moulted flight feathers, but she also had an assortment of different feathers for emergencies. Not all feathers in her stash were fancy exotic ones, far from it. It was actually more important for her to always have an assortment of feathers from different types at her disposal.
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Posted: Sun May 03, 2009 12:48 pm
Atticus found the entire process a little strange, but also rather relaxing. It was nice to simply put oneself another sentinel's talons for once and let them do their work. Even having Feather the mus crawl around on his back was, though disconcerting at first, not painful or uncomfortable.
He drifted off a bit and let his mind wander, playing with word combinations, listening to faint strains of musical melodies of songs that had yet to be written.
It took Atticus a split second to register the request and he very carefully extended one wing. As for her question, he had to focus for a second to remember.
"Ah yes! He did tell me to. Now where did we put them ... ah, that's right. Finch!" he said as he gently tapped the sleeping mus. Finch stirred and blinked up at him before remembering his task. He quickly retrieved the feathers from the pouch they had stored them in and laid them out gently off to one side where Honeysuckle could reach them without difficulty. Atticus nodded in satisfaction and Finch, now awake, settled in to watch.
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Posted: Sun May 24, 2009 11:08 am
Honeysuckle stopped to admire the way the Mus arranged the feathers. She truly appreciated useful companions, and Mus were one of the most versatile kinds in her opinion. Intelligent, mostly safe around fledglings and with helpful (and adorable) little paws.
"Such a well behaved little Mus," she cooed, and winked to the small companion before turning back to the outstretched wing, "And you seem to take good care of your feathers Atticus. You wouldn't believe some Sentinels... I don't want to know what they use to preen. Can't be their beak, that's for sure."
Meanwhile Feather had found something, and as she was taught she sat on her haunches, waiting patiently until both Sentinels were silent before speaking up.
"Snip?" the Mus asked, pointing at a feather. Feather didn't talk much, but the words she said usually got the message through.
"What's that?" the featherstyler investigated the slightly damaged flightfeather the Mus had found, "Oh yes, might want to straighten that out a bit. I'll try without imping it first. Oh, and I have to ask, have you had your companion for a long time?"
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