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not an addict xx joining - deimos - 07-21-2019
His wings ached from sailing above the sea. His mind was twisted with thoughts of deep, murky waters. Sunken beneath the waves, the sounds of canons pinging through his ears. His lungs were filled with water, and the dark deep caused a shock of terror to run through him. Beady eyes widened, and a chirp emitted from him as his wings almost froze up. He coughed, despite having enough air. How long had he been flying? The parakeet wasn't sure. His flying began to falter, the more he thought. Adrian needed to stop thinking. It wasn't that much longer before he saw waves crashing against beach. The parakeet didn't hesitate in starting to dip towards the shore, eyes so focused on the target he was going to land on, that he neglected to see any nearby structures- or for that matter, animals. The parakeet landed by smashing his face into the sand, and flipping over onto his back. Adrian groaned, rolling to his side and tucking his wings in close, craning his neck down to avoid looking at the sun, or any light in general. He missed the deck, where the sun brushed his shoulders and the wind tussled his hair. He missed the freedom of the sea, but the sea scared him so these days. He slowly sat up, ruffling sand from his head using the bend of his wing. His body shook, and a wince was caused from looking up again. "SPEECH" Re: not an addict xx joining - elijah - 07-22-2019 [div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; line-height: 1.5; font-size: 9pt;"]His rats would eat almost anything. Without someone to guide their hunger, they became terrifyingly ravenous. Is it editable? Had Elijah still been living by himself in the company of his rats, the rodents would have taken the parakeet's life without a second thought. After all, there was no one else to worry about. One would never really need to hesitate to question if there was intelligence within the body of a left-for-dead animal. Even then, by force of habit, the demiangel still felt complied to say 'yes' to the query of his rodents. Yes, the parakeet was edible. Yes, the parakeet was food. They may as well end the poor thing's suffering here and now. Life was like that. It was unfair. People rarely took things while having second thoughts. It was often guilt that made things difficult. Having a conscience was both a strength and a weakness. Even then, Elijah was not a barbaric man. He was intelligent enough to recognise that this strange bird wanted to live..or at least had some other desire than to worry about how he was going to see another day. This simple thought that passed him was enough to let his rats understand his verdict. No. The answer was no. The feline flinches when he sees the bird splutter against the sand in a crash landing, fur rising as he remembers the first time he had learnt to fly. Flying was much easier than landing. Then again, there was no use still knowing this information. It had been a long time since the boy had last been capable of flight - that gift had long been taken from him. "I always imagined birds to be more elegant with their landings," Elijah muses with a smile, his icy hues twinkling upon a now softened f. While he used to worry about strangers who appeared unwell on their territory, Elijah felt more intrigued than anxious. Seeing the avian wince from the light, the male raises his own wing to help shade the creature. "Are you lost? You're in The Typhoon, by the way." Re: not an addict xx joining - deimos - 07-25-2019
The parakeets feathers were definitely ruffled from landing like that. He groaned quietly, before chirping in surprise. There were people? Words rushed into his being, writing into his mind as he tried to make sense of them. Birds? Landing capable? "I.. I a-am not u-u-used to being a.. bird.." He stuttered, before his eyes fully opened. The wing blocking the sun was definitely a huge help, and his feathers started to lay flat again. The bird rolled over with a small, fearful chirp again. He shook himself off, sand flying from him. Both eyes opened to focus on Elijah. He slowly nodded, looking back out to sea. "L.. Lost i-is a word f-for it." He said quietly, tucking his wings in close and hunkering down. He seemed to want to keep to himself, and making himself smaller definitely wasn't helping. "W-What is the.. Typhoon?" "SPEECH" Re: not an addict xx joining - elijah - 07-29-2019 [div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; line-height: 1.5; font-size: 9pt;"]His eyes flutter towards the meek boy's form, intrigue manifesting within his icy orbs. Not used to being a bird? He studied the male properly now, intent on learning something but realising it was difficult to read the expressions of others and make insightful guesses. Elijah was more cut out for bonding with his rats than he was with any other species. "Delight me with what you mean by that?" the demiangel insists, ear flicking curiously before he decides to sit down on the sand. His tail whips over the grainy ground, curling neatly behind him. "The Typhoon is the name of the group who inhabits this island. We look out for each other," the feline then continues calmly. He decides to leave out the fact that The Typhoon were all, in technical terms, dubbed pirates. The poor parakeet just seemed too overwhelmed and confused for Elijah to dump any more information than necessary. "You can stay here if you'd like... or if you have a place to go, you could tell me where you must be and I could point you in the right direction. It's up to you." Elijah was indifferent to either answer. Re: not an addict xx joining - bubblegum - 07-29-2019 I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS A MOONLIT SEA
THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME
BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
BEWARE, BEWARE OF ME.
[align=center]To see a bird stuffing its face into the sand, avoiding the light, was certainly something different. Especially with it being such a small bird - a parakeet, certainly a type of bird native to their jungles, but it did not seem to have come from the island. In fact, it seems quite confused entirely, her feathered ear tips picking up as she hears the passing conversation of the parakeet and Elijah. Not used to being a bird, lost, unsure of the group he has found himself within. The tigress approaches with a curious look upon her features, arriving next to the demiangel son of old, supposedly dead, missing friends. She focuses on the little bird for now, though, heterochromatic eyes looking him over. "I take it ya must've either shapeshifted or woke up in this body," she was no stranger to dying and waking up in a different form (which, to be fair, only happened once technically, but she has died and woken up to a strange change twice by now). Being something entirely different than what she was before, though, she wouldn't really know - aside from maybe when Stryker managed to steal her memories and kept her in the Pitt. "D'ya need any medical attention? Ya don' seem so well." Re: not an addict xx joining - raziel - 07-29-2019 The faerie supposed little surprised him these days. A price of such a long lived life. Nonetheless, he regarded the crash-landed bird with some concern, and mild amusement. Indeed, at Goldie's quesiton he nodded, sea-green eyes carefully taking in the parakeet's form with some worry. "If you are, we can offer assistance," he assured kindly, offering the stranger a gentle smile. [align=center]— ✦ — |