Post MoM AU, general post

[use_everything]

And then one day, it was over.

The memory of how it happened was hazy. Perhaps it was as simple as being ported out, perhaps there was a great experiment, bringing together physicists, chemists, alchemists and scientists to get something WORKING. But like the memories of that time, that other dimension, singular events come and go, like a dream, or an age past.

From the very start, however, there were changes.

Comments

[bothari]

[It's a crisp autumn evening. The first tendrils of a particularly bitter winter creeping in from the south sapped the color from the trees, green and red alike.

Sergeant Bothari had been sitting on a hill with the highest vantage near the Residence. He could see the ImpSec Men and Imperial Guard shuffle back and forth on the periphreals, but they were too far for him to care more than his usual black disdain for their polished boots and slicked hair.

At a cue only he seemed to catch, he stood up, pulls a talon-scarred, heavy leather glove from his belt and slips it on, adjusting the cuff at his elbow. He gives a sharp, piercing whistle and raises his protected arm.]

[dendarii]

[ There's a rustle in the trees below. Moments later, an absolutely tiny brown and silver falcon comes fluttering out of the foliage and beelines for Bothari's glove. He's rather clumsy at it still, wings flapping too hard and turning too sharply into the wind. But approaches quickly, soaring up into the air before diving down for Bothari's glove. A little too quickly. He doesn't so much as land on Bothari's hand as collide with it bodily.

I got it, I got it, hang on -- Miles practically chirrups over the link as he fumbles to latch on. ]

[bothari]

[The only sign Bothari was helping at all was the faint dip his hand made to gentle the impact. Miles was, for a wonder, actually somewhat sturdier as a bird, but there was no point in being careless.

The faint scowl, as usual, answers the secretive communication, often the only sign he got it at all. The voices, the bird magic... none of it was proper.

Once Miles got situated, Bothari considers the bird, and lifts up with the glove.]

Try again. Come in slower.

[dendarii]

[ He flaps his wings a few times until he's properly situated. For all that he messed up that landing, he's still giddily exuberant over the link. Sure, his bones are still fragile, but they're meant to be fragile. He's in a body that can actually do what it was made to do. He doesn't ache like this, and he can fly ...

It's hard, though. I want to go fast. But he lifts off again, swooping back out into the trees for a moment. ]

[bothari]

[He goes to answer.. but Miles is off like a brown and silver flash. The growl was out loud.

Reluctantly, he answers the only way he knows WILL reach him, doing whatever madness he is between the branches and trunks of the trees.


Go fast, but slow to land. Think of shuttles.

It's staticy, like most of Bothari's thoughts, cuts in and out, unintelligible noise rumbling in the background.]

[dendarii]

[ A quick dodge here, a near miss there. Miles chases a leaf as it falls before swooping back up just before he hits the ground. All antics he could never have dreamed doing while trapped in his human body. It's very nearly the feeling he gets from riding horses; he's not sure which he likes better.

Shuttles. Okay, I can do shuttles. As always, there's a faint mental headcock at that static, but - well, he's used to that by now. Bothari is just staticy. Just like his faint glimpses of his father feel like lava, or his mother's gusts of air. He circles in again to land, starting out in a fast, clipped dive. Then as he gets close, he spreads out his tiny wings to catch the air and slow himself down. Better. Still awkward, but he manages to grab the glove and flap hard enough to maintain his balance. ]

[bothari]

[Bothari's hand comes up and settles over Miles' feet, holding him there lightly.]

Good. [It was simple, gruff, and from Bothari, almost effuse.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles can hear the implied affection in that. He warms over the link, a little shy with joy. ]

I'm doing better, right? That was way better.

[bothari]

Start sooner next time.

[There was more than a scrape of approval hiding in that static, however. Bothari's hands were not delicate in the most generous of appraisals. Every one of his knuckles were larger than Miles' head like this. He lifted one of those great hands and gave the bird the barest of nudges on his chest - not enough to unbalance.]

[dendarii]

[ Approval is still approval. Just like that gesture is clearly affectionate, as blunted as it may be by Bothari's usual manner. Miles is much more obvious in returning the gesture. In addition to glowing happily over the link, he rubs his small, feathered head against Bothari's finger. ]

Yeah, okay. I'll get it right this time for sure. Right now.

[bothari]

[Bothari doesn't argue. Nothing else wears Miles out quite so quickly as this. There were dangers. He'd run over ever one. Wished he could have some bloody witchborn transformation himself to lay cover in whatever antics he KNEW Miles was getting up to.

Instead, he just lifts his arm abruptly, sending the bird up into the air.

It's better if he doesn't know. Probably.]

[dendarii]

[ Probably. The twists and turns Miles up to when he's out in the field ... He lets out a screech of joy and takes off one last time, hurtling back into the trees. The usual stream of exhilaration and joy filter down through the link, like light through the same autumn leaves he's flying through now.

It takes him too long to come back. He's distracted by something. His attention goes razor sharp as he zeroes in on whatever it is and ignores Bothari's side of the link for a moment. ]

[bothari]

[He doesn't count to ten. Ten is usually too long. It may be already. He's already moving the first moment he senses that ... cliff top, is the only word he has for it. That vertigo of falling.

That little shit.

Urgency presses over the link, static turning to lightning. Miles.]

[dendarii]

[ The precipice is smaller at this age, but no less distinctive. It's Bothari's first hint that Miles is about to do something extremely stupid. ]

Give me a minute. I'm hungry.

[ And there's a snack dangling out here. A scrap of meat left out tantalizingly, hiding the trap meant for a different breed of bird ... ]

[bothari]

[He doesn't know about the trap. He can't see it, can't sense it. But there's a fiery reflex of DON'T EAT THAT... that comes from how violently allergic Miles is to most of the wildlife and some of the introduced species...

Don't touch that. It came across as strong of a bellow as Bothari ever could out loud.]

[dendarii]

[ Miles flinches at the telepathic yell. And flutters directly into the heart of the trap, which closes around him neatly. Fortunately for his delicate bones, it's a net and not something more injurious. But he's still flapping around in it madly, entangling himself further with each wingbeat. (There's no telltale spike of pain to indicate a broken bone. Yet.)

He doesn't respond using words, but the ensuing mess of panic and fear is likely answer enough. Neither his human brain nor his bird brain is enjoying the net much. ]