[ what's the closest you remember ever being to starvation? the leanest moment of your life, when the promise of tomorrow seemed more like a bleak, wry question? have you ever felt that way? Angel Devil had never. Had never.
Turns out becoming a werewolf super-dee-duper exposes you to the experience.
You're running, body one long sinuous machine as it rockets forward, paws striking damp, lifeless earth with enough force to leave tracks that are more like gouges behind you.
Ahead of you is prey.
You can feel it. But not in a way that feels quite right to any of your senses. That shining, that tempting, that chimingsingingbeating delicious thing is resonating with a leeching hollow in your chest, that reaches all the way down to gnaw, as well, in your stomach. You're hungry. You're starving. You're dimly aware that you have always been starving, but that this time, ripping and rending and clawing something to pieces might actually do something about it.
a lean predator sprints toward a flicker of vulnerable motion, every step a bound. ]
["Lean sprinting predator" aren't words that a gryphon like Muffin can normally relate to. but he knows hunger. he remembers parents skipping lunch to put another meal in their children's beaks, he remembers pretending not to notice while he and the other chicks sneakily divided their portions again to feed the hungriest chicks.
he remembers years and years of migrations, of traveling hundreds of miles with no food except what they could hunt or find. the alarm of prey when it saw the flock swooping down like a plague from above.
[ angelcube cometh-- er. ange L cube fizzleth into existence. it's crackling with interference, due to being in the woods when he finally Breaks to say something and forgetting it's gonna be all jacked up in signal-- ]
You we//re righâ– â– . Taran|||||| and frogs can real...
[ even as a lost fledgling, Redsoul has a tendency to come and go as he pleased. Usually, he'd announce himself as he did. between one time and another, though--
he appears to have become a different sort of himself.
His clothes are different. Rose-like, in a way; but much more they look to be in the exact same tastes of that Lord he'd set his sights on, in the memory from Tababata. A pendant of a suit of spades made of angel wings sits pinned at his heart.
His hair is longer; silky, choppy waves that lay comfortably on his shoulders, but not yet flowing down his back. His feathers still haven't come in yet--
(actually, a keen eye says the very beginnings of the crest are there, but hard to spot.)
He catches up to Muffin somewhere in the twee little sheep-sized streets of Woolietown. He's holding...
[chirps and flutters back a step to look him over. a quick glance— no, still not fully his Angel Devil yet. then a second one to admire the fashion. new hair!]
[ Angel Devil had sidled up to his side when people finally started to break camp from the buffet, but by then, Muffin's been took down to dreamland by all the Very Relaxing desserts. Muffin next comes to, a familiar pink-orange jacket with brown frills has been left draped upon him like a blanket.
The owner's not immediately in sight.
Does this count as leaving him another red thing...? ]
[sometime after Angie's heartgame concludes, Muffin finds a long blue feather at his window, tucked under the sill.
when he touches it, he realizes that it can be used to temporarily enable another person (weed or flock only) to speak and understand his native bird language for up to two hours, bypassing things like 'doesn't have the right mouth anatomy to do so.' all he has to do is concentrate on wanting them to understand him, and then passing the feather to them.
it can be used twice, after which it will just be an inert feather. a pretty one, though!
if he tries to call Teleute or Hope after that, their cube cannot be reached: they are gone from the pasture.]
[Muffin doesn't try to cubecall her, but he does go up to the roof after he finds the feather. he looks for her under the eaves, but when he doesn't find any small dark birds, he returns to his windowsill to perch. and sing.
He was warned she might leave. he can only hope his farewell reaches her.]
Muffin, my dear, I am burdened with purpose. For once in my life, I find myself drawn to the cause of a charitable effort! We should check my temperature. And talk about the idea.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
night 27 / dream
Angel Devil had never. Had never.
Turns out becoming a werewolf super-dee-duper exposes you to the experience.
You're running, body one long sinuous machine as it rockets forward, paws striking damp, lifeless earth with enough force to leave tracks that are more like gouges behind you.
Ahead of you is prey.
You can feel it. But not in a way that feels quite right to any of your senses. That shining, that tempting, that chimingsingingbeating delicious thing is resonating with a leeching hollow in your chest, that reaches all the way down to gnaw, as well, in your stomach. You're hungry. You're starving. You're dimly aware that you have always been starving, but that this time, ripping and rending and clawing something to pieces might actually do something about it.
a lean predator sprints toward a flicker of vulnerable motion, every step a bound. ]
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he remembers years and years of migrations, of traveling hundreds of miles with no food except what they could hunt or find. the alarm of prey when it saw the flock swooping down like a plague from above.
maybe "predator" isn't too far off.]
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Day 29. Not here, except for...
a single bright red apple has appeared in Muffin's window, just chillin'. ]
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and if he hangs around the property long enough, he’ll hear an excited birdsong and a cheer when Muffin discovers his PRESENT]
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day 31
Re: day 31
but. sooner or later he'll find the leaves and when he does... he'll gather them up and add them to the decorations in his room.]
late morning, day 32 1/2
L cube fizzleth into existence. it's crackling with interference, due to being in the woods when he finally Breaks to say something and forgetting it's gonna be all jacked up in signal-- ]
You we//re righâ– â– . Taran|||||| and frogs can real...
[ ...
it breaks up too much to hold together. ]
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...is it-- [ the cube openly just. Looks at him, a few seconds. a bit overlong for verifying the signal is steady. ] ..it IS clear.
Muffin,
I
Still owe you... a proper answer.
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some nebulous time before kid game and after trauma game where things aren't as terrible
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Melody?
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Day 33, still during babygame
he appears to have become a different sort of himself.
His clothes are different. Rose-like, in a way; but much more they look to be in the exact same tastes of that Lord he'd set his sights on, in the memory from Tababata. A pendant of a suit of spades made of angel wings sits pinned at his heart.
His hair is longer; silky, choppy waves that lay comfortably on his shoulders, but not yet flowing down his back. His feathers still haven't come in yet--
(actually, a keen eye says the very beginnings of the crest are there, but hard to spot.)
He catches up to Muffin somewhere in the twee little sheep-sized streets of Woolietown. He's holding...
Angel Devil's notebook.
And he's smiling. ]
Hello, friend~.
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Hi! You got older again?
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Night 33, cubecall after baby game end
an angelcube appears, then slowly hovers down to a seated position next to him.
quietly, ]
Still awake?
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I'm up.
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day 40 nebulous later time
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Hi, Fifi.
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day 43
The owner's not immediately in sight.
Does this count as leaving him another red thing...? ]
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rubs his face on it
When he’s next up and back to mingling, he’ll be wearing the frilly jacket instead of his yellow blazer]
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day 56
Muffin, my friend! I have something for you!
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For me?
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(LATE) NIGHT 68
followed soon by a tap-tap at his window. ]
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muffin’s up before he’s even fully awake, tumbling off the side of his nest and fluttering over to open the window]
Quetzal!
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1/3
2/3 just realized i don't really know what happens to the OG body when roses do this. winging it
3/3 muffin is SILVER muffin now.
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[day 74]
when he touches it, he realizes that it can be used to temporarily enable another person (weed or flock only) to speak and understand his native bird language for up to two hours, bypassing things like 'doesn't have the right mouth anatomy to do so.' all he has to do is concentrate on wanting them to understand him, and then passing the feather to them.
it can be used twice, after which it will just be an inert feather. a pretty one, though!
if he tries to call Teleute or Hope after that, their cube cannot be reached: they are gone from the pasture.]
Re: [day 74]
He was warned she might leave. he can only hope his farewell reaches her.]
Day 74 (before sudoku surprise)
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night 84
a familiar figure is sitting right where the seafoam stops when Muffin gets there, one lone red sheep accompanying them. ]
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Oo-woo.
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SHORTLY AFTER VERA'S FLOWER ENTRAPMENT
Hi.
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[wheezes at him mid-squawk]
Hi!?
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day 101.
Muffin, my dear, I am burdened with purpose. For once in my life, I find myself drawn to the cause of a charitable effort! We should check my temperature. And talk about the idea.
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Day 102
Hey Muffin I gotta confesssiiiooonnn.
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Confess? Did you do crime?
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