july catch-all (open + closed prompts in comments)

[grice]

Who: falco w/ friends, old and new (you)!
What: an open log with a few closed prompts here and there for the duration of july; falco will be going through some changes that have to do with this player plot! i have my plans here and here for reference! feel free to reach out on the plotting comments, liberos or owlie#3609 if you'd like to plot something specific! i can definitely do personalized tls!
When: july
Where: corners of trench!

Content Warnings: this will be updated accordingly! check out the headers for their appropriate cws! here you will find: rituals, possession, body horror, mentions of self harm, child death.

Comments

[fogsong]

[ He's so gentle, so careful, that Sharon's heart swells with both adoration and sorrow. In his normal form, it's so easy to wrap him up in her arms and damn near cradle him but now she can't even hold him. His other hand hovers and bumps her and it's hard for her brain to comprehend that this whole being is Falco; that he could hurt her with a flick of the wrist. She wraps her arms around him, where she can, and squeezes.

She looks him in his eyes, so large and so full of emotion that there's no doubt that it's Falco in there, and smiles at him. ] It's okay, Falco. I know you're scared to hurt me and it's okay. You don't have to be so careful but if you're scared, you don't have to hug me back. I'll just hug you enough for the both of us.

[grice]

[ —that's better. he can't even oof, she just feels . . . like a little thing. it feels like he should be in her shoes, not the other way around. sharon has by now buried herself in golden plumage by his face, and falco has built the courage to be able to support her with an open hand from behind, covering the entirety of her back like he'd try to cup a butterfly. ]

Just a little bit . . . Like this is good. I-I've got you, this way— [ he doesn't exactly treat it as "a little bit". ] I'm scared I'll stay this way, Miss Sharon.

[fogsong]

[ His fear strikes at her and she pulls back only slightly. She shakes her head as if denying it wholly and completely; like it's an impossible thing; like it's not something she would ever let happen. ] I won't let that happen. [ Sharp and full of certainty that she doesn't truly feel. She just doesn't want him to be afraid. She gently presses her hands into the feathers, rubbing them down with a careful force in a way similar to how she would have rubbed his back. ]

We'll find a way to get you back to your normal form. No matter what it takes. I promise.

[grice]

[ sometimes— it's all he'd need and (or would like) to hear. the circumstances were foreign to him, he couldn't quite get a read on what was possible or more likely at this point. he just didn't want to get absorbed, which was a possible outcome. but not without other things happening first . . .

it's all complicated, and trench has taken that and flipped it on its head. speaking of heads, falco has rested his, on the pressure she makes— like allowing the wind to tickle him. all he had to do was close his eyes and pretend he could fit in her lap. he appreciates her words. every bit of them. ]

Confetti . . . Didn't take anything from you, did he? [ it's something he's reminded of, when the little fairy chirps above them. ] He's been trying to bring me things, but I don't think he trades all the time.

[ he just. forgets. ]

[fogsong]

[ Sharon could have stayed like this for hours, just stroking the feathers around Falco’s transformed face. It was clear he needed comfort and she was willing to give all she had to offer.

When Confetti chirrups and she hears Perle’s mature but still distinctly Falco’s voice, she gives a quiet negative hum. Mm-mmm. ]

I think I saw him carrying an omni but I don’t think it was mine. [ She didn’t want to pull away from him to check and truthfully didn’t care if he had. She knew Confetti was just looking out for his distressed carer. She can only imagine all the little things he’s taken in hopes of cheering him up just a little.

But that line of thought strikes her with a sharp realization. She looks around the damp stone cave and a fresh wave of sorrow crashes into her like the waves against the rocks outside. ]

Do you… Do you want me to go out with Confetti later? I’m sure there are things you could use in here, things you might need or even want that I’d have a better chance of getting than him.

You definitely need better food than moist bread.

[grice]

[ only falco's eyes move in favor of allowing sharon to stay right where she is. the omni was possibly his, but even then— he wouldn't be able to use it. not even the tip of his talons was small enough to pick out something specific on screen. he'll have to use perle, but at least he'll be able to see anything he's missed. ]

H-he, um, did his best . . . [ soggy bread and raw fish. oh, god he's never swallowed so much raw fish in his life. food rations and less weren't new things in falco's life, but he has grown accustomed to better. the first thing he wants to eat when he's out of this is a plate of one single cooked fish. that is it. ] But I'd— like that. How can I help, Miss Sharon?

[fogsong]

[ there’s a reason Sharon adores Falco. even now, when he’s stuck in this form, unable to do all the things he’s accustomed to; unable to walk the city and be normal in a place so distinctly abnormal, he wants to help. it makes her hold onto him a little tighter — cling to him like he’s a life raft in dangerous waters. ]

You, you just need to tell me everything you might want. Anything at all. I’ll get it for you, no matter how weird or bulky or silly.

Anything. [ already, Sharon was making a list in her head of little creature comforts she thought would make him feel more at ease; that would bring him a little comfort in this form. ]

[grice]

[ this is going to become a tug-o-war of who helps who more, isn't it—! ]

Thank you, Miss Sharon . . . [ from the top of her, his head leans in to the hold they both have on each other. he can't reject her. rejecting her help would be rejecting her comfort, her everything that she's giving him. falco relents his thoughts after a moment to give her the smallest of lists: ] Just snacks . . . And maybe a book?

[ perle could read for him, he thinks— ]

[fogsong]

[ maybe a book? she’d bring him a whole library if she thought it’d help. ]

It’s no problem at all. I can get you snacks and a book. [ she repeats his tiny request almost sadly to herself. such a short, simple list.

she would get him more than that, so much more. he deserved that much.

truth be told, he deserved more. ]

[grice]

[ he nods, but— there's something . . . ]

Ah— Miss Sharon, about the book, [ this giant ass bird is keeping his armwing talons close to his chest, and— he's fidgeting? he's puffing up! he's looking this way and that like he's embarrassed! ] Can it be . . .

[ perle mumbles some very inaudible words. P____ a__ P______—? ]

[fogsong]

[ Sharon finally pulls back from Falco when he begins to fidget, though one hand remains threaded through his golden feathers. She smiles at him awkwardly, confused as to what kind of book would fluster him so much. ]

Wanna repeat that for me? [ It was P-something something, that much she was sure of. ]

[grice]

[ another quiet mumble— but this time, perle pecks his head and gives a little irritable chitter. just say it boy, there’s no shame in it. it’s that kids have made fun of him already!

with an inhale and a little louder this time (albeit rushed): ]

—Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

[fogsong]

[ Sharon blinks a few times in surprise and then a wide grin blooms across her face as if she were just told the cutest thing in the world. ]

Of course! [ She chirps brightly. She’d expected Falco to want something more typically boyish or perhaps some grouping of fairytales (look he’s a baby in her eyes) but this was better somehow. Sweeter.

It fits him, she realizes. ] You aren’t embarrassed, are you? I think it’s sweet. I’ve always heard girls talk about how romantic it is.

[ Yeah, Sharon has never read a Jane Austen book in her whole life. ]

[grice]

[ falco churrs, low and uncertain and perhaps confirming that, yes— me might’ve been a touch embarrassed to reveal it to people who hadn’t already known. ]

That’s my, um— favorite genre.

[ romance. he is thirteen and already knows he wants to marry someone. it makes his heart unfurl and his belly bubble with flutters and good-feeling. it’s the opposite of the world he grew up in, ravished by war. it was his motivation and dream. ]

I went to school for a little bit, in California, 1961— the kids would always make fun of it. And adults would say I’m too young to be reading them. I’m thirteen . . .

[ the tone implies: i’m old enough 😤. ]

[fogsong]

[ its his favorite genre? she didn’t think that it was possible for Falco to become any more precious but he somehow always finds a way to dismantle her expectations in such a positive way. ]

Those kids sound like assholes and you shouldn’t let them make you question what you like. And a lot of adults don’t know what they’re talking about.

You’re old enough for romance books. At least the Jane Austen brand. I’d avoid the books with buff men on the cover, though, they’re… [ She makes a flustered, mildly grossed out face. ] Just avoid them.

[grice]

Oh. Yeah.

[ he’s definitely not looking at her now. ]

Someone told me that, once . . .[ miss carmilla from his time in california. he was in the library picking out anything that looked good when— he was pointed out as a little perv. he feels the need to say now: ] I-I didn’t know they were bad, I just saw the couples on the covers and thought . . .

[ they were romance. ]

She showed me Austen, and Brontè instead. Miss Carmilla.

[fogsong]

[ she can tell he’s embarrassed and it makes her laugh gently under her breath. she can almost see in her minds eye the way his human face would wrinkle up and flush when he learned what was really hidden behind those glossy, romantic covers. ]

If they looked like smut, all the housewives would be too embarrassed to read them in public. Appearances and all.

I’m glad that Miss Carmilla was looking out for you. [ though he’s a young teenage boy, they tend to be curious about that kind of stuff. ] You know there’s a film, right? That’s the only reason I knew about the book, honestly. Girls in my high school were obsessed with it. Always swooning over what’s his face.

[grice]

[ through all this face-flushing talk about smut and mr. darcy’s handsome smolder (which falco mutters the correction of his name: darcy), there is one moment in which it all breaks. a shy, poofy falco perks up with wide eyes under his bone-mask and gives a deep, short gasp. ]

There’s a film? With moving picture, and, [ talking, moving characters in front of cameras—?! ] I— I need to see it, Miss Sharon—!

[ not want, sharon. need. ]

[fogsong]

[ this time when she laughs the sound is loud and bright and warm. ]

Need, huh? [ she’s beyond amused. she’s grateful she could give him something to look forward to even stuck as he were. ] Well, I guess I better find a way for us to watch it then, huh?

think we might be at a good place to begin wrapping!

[grice]

[ falco has only one thing to say to all this, and it's not actually even a word— he turns into the biggest, puffy, flustered yet happy popcorn in the history of giant birds. ]

It could be on the Omni—!

agreed!

[fogsong]

[ as he fluffs and puffs, her smile widens until her teeth peek out. she nods her head enthusiastically. ]

Mm, I’ll work on getting it for us. [ she may not care much at all for the genre but she would endure it for this baby bird (she’d endure a lot for his kid, truthfully). ]

But until then, I’ll make sure you got the book. And a bunch of snacks. In fact, I’ll go grab that shit now. You don’t mind if I drag Confetti along, do you?

[ maybe she can teach it how to trade while they’re out. ]

:)!

[grice]

[ where's confetti— ah, there he is, floating around with the omni still in his little feathery paws. falco shepherds the little fairy with his beak and nudges him in sharon's direction. immediately getting the idea, the creature chirps and loop-de-loops over the woman's head, heading for the cave's mouth. ]

I think he'd learn a lot from you, Miss Sharon . . . Thank you.

[ he offers her a talon, the curve of it in front of her to be met halfway. ]

[fogsong]

[ she takes hold of the talon with a smile and nods her head at his gratitude before she finally exits the cave.

one day she’s gonna get him to just call her Sharon. ]