A proud-looking, wine-coloured North and her handsomely ruddy West companion were perched low in a grandiose, far-oversized tree, its gnarled trunk twisting up to the heavens and its branches, thicker around than an elephants leg some of them, stretching out to blot out the sky beneath save for where sunlight speckled the ground in motes of white light.
The parental pair flanked a trio of much smaller, mule-height birds. The younguns were clearly still quite young indeed, though had also weathered their first flight and were cleaned off any egg goop from hatching or debris from ungainly landings after said flight. Bright-eyed, they whispered amongst themselves excited while the parents simply smiled fondly and drums echoed in the village.
BIG BIRDS IN BIG TREE.
... Honestly quite straightforward despite its vagueness. Candidates should start showing up any second to make appeals to the Arathli to join their homes. How exciting!
Last Edit: May 21, 2022 10:16:31 GMT -5 by Artemis
A bright emerald bodice is adorned by swirlings and swoops of darker jade, giving an appearance much like ivy spread out in a symmetrical pattern over her back. Her beak and legs where the feathers end are ebony-black, shining smoothly in both sunlight and starlight alike. She tends to be a bit melodramatic, commiting her heart whole... erm... heartedly to her emotions, prone to impassioned speeches, particularly on the topics of love and longing. While frequently romantic, she isn't always so, often fantasizing with equal pathos over her yearning for the sun's rays in the winter time, or her devotion to her friends, or even just the debate of weather to have tacos or burritos for dinner. She doesn't like to talk over others, though, or babble without purpose; though long of tongue when she speaks up, she's quite surprisingly good at knowing when to be quiet, and can be found simply basking in her emotions beside her bonded or other companions, thinking and daydreaming. When you are ready for someone to wax philosophical or Byronic, however, you know where to find her.
The Haiku Tempest
The Limerick Boreas
(I know, I know, I'll add descs soon, hopefully today! but the first round is always just people arriving anyway innit ;D?)
Last Edit: Jun 19, 2022 13:45:11 GMT -5 by Artemis
Post by Cyprena Sevenius on Jun 1, 2022 0:00:47 GMT -5
It was strange realization, Ren found, when she noticed how quiet her life had gotten recently. The realization wasn’t that her life was quiet suddenly, no, it was that she couldn’t tell if she was enjoying her newfound peace, or if she sort of missed living on a knife’s edge like she did previously. Whatever the answer was, she refused to think about it, and honestly, the simple message played out on the drums matched her mood splendidly.
Nice and easy, simple does it.
As pleasant as we make it. Auner chimed in, cheerfully, as the turian clung onto his back and grumbled unintelligibly in response. Though her aerie wasn’t too great in number, it was no secret that the giant avian creatures had a special place in Ren’s heart. The East himself was a master at Twistering, one of his many, many talents Ren had noticed, and while a life at space had trained her for these hyper-rapid movements, both the arathlial and Cecilith’s even more uncomfortable one still made Ren’s tough skin crawl.
Auner somehow also knew where every damn thing was.
One giant tree right up. He reported dutifully, though the hulking figure was quite obviously there. He swung in a large, showy arc (he couldn’t help the showy part), and made his descent before Ren rather ungracefully climbed down. She looked at the two larger not-Auner birds and nodded, respectfully. Auner bowed himself.
“Nice day we’re having.” Ever the conversationalist.
This sounded like precisely the sort of problem a big robot could help with.
Except, as Zenith discovered upon arrival, the big birds weren’t... stuck in the big tree. In fact, they were quite contentedly perched up there, peering down upon the first few arrivals like benevolent rulers observing their subjects. There were five of them, two adults and what looked like a trio of hatchlings, all perfectly healthy and in no visible distress. No one seemed to be in any immediate pressing danger. Nothing was on fire. The sky wasn’t falling. Pit, even the PIF appeared to be behaving itself, though he knew better than to say as much out loud.
All of which meant no heroics would be required of him today.
Thank Primus and the Guiding Hand.
“Hello up there!” He called, moseying towards the tree and its avian occupants.“You guys picked a beautiful day for, er. Whatever this is? Thanks for gettin’ us all out of our houses and out into the sunshine.”
Rather than crowd in on the birds and risk irritating the parents- who were absolutely large enough to give even a Cybertronian pause- Zee came to a halt next to Ren. He greeted her with a wave and a grin, bouncing in place in poorly-concealed enthusiasm.
“I wasn’t sure what to expect out here. Super glad it’s Arathlial and not, uh. The death-birds. Requiae, I think they’re called? I’ve got two of them back home and that’s three too many.”
The parents sighed in relief at the arrival of 2 candidates, both of them familiar with spaceflight unbeknownst to the oversized alien avians. Had they known, perhaps they might've struck up a conversation on the topic! Instead, conversation veered… Distinctly other ways.
'Nice day we're having,' the people one said Not a sign of a thought in her empty little head But the bird took a bow Looking full of know-how Next to the main character's stead,
The Limerick responded cheekily to Ren. Despite what could've been mistaken for a chastising tone, her eyes were bright and alert, and her beak gaped open in a self pleased grin. Yes, the Limerick enjoyed taking the piss, nobody could have ever predicted this.
Her green sister, meanwhile, was listening politely to Zee's greeting and welcome, until the mention of Requiae made her dramatically rear her head back with a gasp. Though she didn't answer in a true octave, her loquacious proclivities were obvious.
Speak not of such terrible beasts That choke up the air with their cruelty and despair Their scissoring feathers gleam and their dark eyes glare, Those pretty consorts awaiting foul feasts! Oh to be free to soar on winds west and east Without such worries, no such unhappy care -- Let us talk of happier things on a day so fair And not give power to these demons in the least.
Post by Cyprena Sevenius on Jun 26, 2022 22:50:15 GMT -5
"You got that right." Ren muttered, thinking of her own scissor birds, one normal and one unusual apparently (lucky her!). But any relief that either of the space-friends (friends? eventually anyway, right?) had might be cut short when the arathlial started to speak. It was cut short for Ren, anyway.
She didn’t recognize limerick specifically, but she caught onto the rhyme of the more verdant sister. Great, great. She could… nah no, she wasn’t particularly adept at this.
Oh poems, what fun and what wit, Not knowing does not make a twit. She knows other stuff, Quite more than enough, Some kindness does not harm one bit.
Ren opened her mouth, then closed it again, her eyes turning to Auner momentarily.
"I feel like you’ve insulted me worse, but honestly I can't tell." She wasn't about to disprove either of them evidently.
Apparently mentioning murderbirds Requiae had been entirely the wrong move. Zenith reset his optics, briefly taken aback, and fought to hide the smile that kept tugging at his lips. It had been a few thousand years since he’d last been so thoroughly scolded, and his cohort had never taken the time to chastise him in perfect verse. It was... kind of impressive, actually, so much so he completely forgot to feel offended.
Doubly so because the poets in question were a pair of baby birds. (Not-so-)tiny, floofy, adorable baby birds. Spouting poetry like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Only on Planet,” Zee muttered, and this time there was no hiding his grin.
Alas, poetry was not and had never been his strong suit. Clever wordplay and witty retorts had always been Azimuth's wheelhouse. Zee was more the ‘leap first, look later if at all’ type. That preference for straightforward action had served him well on Planet, but here and now it worked against him. He wanted to go climb the tree and join the hatchlings, zip off and help them learn how to read the skies, not stand around and trade rhymes!
He might have tried precisely that, too, had Ren not inadvertently saved him from himself. Ren was ever bit the creature of action Zee fancied himself. If she could spin a limerick in return, he could at least give it a whirl.
Harrumphing, Zee shifted his weight onto his back pede and went digging through his archives. The bird addressing Ren had offered up a limerick. The one speaking to him had spoken in... what sounded like a sonnet? What rules did those follow again? He thought for a moment, optics narrowed behind his goggles, before venturing a response.
“On this we agree: they are terrible things All glittering metal and killer intent With hearts full of evil and bitter dissent Fly away, wicked creature, on scissor-sharp wings! But the sun is bright and the winds are fair; Adventure is at hand, and friendship to boot! Let us make merry, or find mischief afoot- So come, little bird: will you not take to the air?”