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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 12, 2024 17:15:50 GMT -5
Fish also steals a bowl of bar snacks from the bar before they toddle off to their place at the table. Nuts are carefully organized into their types, keeping the walnuts for themselves and some peanuts. The cashews and pretzels are pushed towards Cyran. As for the actual meal, Fish orders shellfish and noodles. It was clear they always liked using their hands and there was something satisfying to them about popping open the shell.
"Fish never pays to stay anywhere...Fish likes to sneak into the attic or rafters. Fish can put a hammock up there and no one notices.....Fish would sneak into the theater in Zeinav when Fish wasn't working so Fish could see shows......Fish liked the sounds." They open their little beak and mimic the sounds of a fake sword fight before stopping to take a drink.
A rare glimpse into the more normal life of the bird and their non-crime interests. Normally Fish wouldn't really think to share this kind of information, but Cyran had disarmed them enough that they weren't thinking with their guard up. They were like the shellfish they loved popping open, difficult to open up but if you're careful with it then it just flips open with ease.
Of course, with Fish it wasn't exactly easy. It never was going to be, but it was at least doable. Brute force love is not an option with Fish.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 19, 2024 7:38:22 GMT -5
Cyran nodded sagely as the unwanted snacks were pushed in his direction. “Not a fan of cashews? More for me, then.” Though Cyran did make a mental note to start carrying more walnuts around as a snack for when Fish needed it. He collected what Fish didn’t want and snacked on those while listening to the young aviankin share their story between fiddling with clams. Cyran - who’d ordered crab - broke off a leg and placed it on Fish’s plate for them to toy with.
The story… broke his heart. And yet, Cyran found a sort of kinship with Fish. In the days after his exile, before he made a name for himself and before he had a single Solar to his name, Cyran once spent cold winter nights in the skeletons of barns and in the rafters of observatories in Stargazer’s field. He leaned back in his seat, nodding. He imagined a young fish, the songs of the theater their only lullaby.
“I used to sleep in barns.” He admitted quietly. “Before Zarius took me in, I didn’t have a place to stay for a long time. Sometimes I still like sleeping on the road. There is comfort in habit, but there is also comfort in the security of a roof over your head.”
There would be no harm in offering, he thought.
“I have a room. You’re welcome to stay. You can make a hammock in the rafters and I won’t bother you, but I do have some spells that will keep the both of us more secure at night.” He offered a small smile. “I’ve no talent for the Zeinavian theater, unfortunately, but it comes with the promise of silence and security.” And he still had some children’s stories in his satchel from the orphanage…
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 19, 2024 15:28:06 GMT -5
Fish unthinkingly places a clam on Cyran's plate believing the elf was offering a trade. Before anything can be said, Fish is already working on the crab leg. The deal is done and cannot be undone. This was just going to be life with Fish, their desire to never be in debt to someone probably wasn't ever going to fade.
"Fish doesn't like barns, too much noise makes it hard for Fish to catch anything unusual." Another thing unlikely to go away anytime soon, though Cyran would understand that kind of constant vigilance.
He might not like that Fish is already worrying about those types of things, but at least Fish was being practical. Part of it was upbringing and part of it was just being a bird. Crows aren't exactly prey, but they aren't at the top of the food chain either.
"Fish does not rely on spells, there are ways to circumvent those. Fish likes setting up mundane alarms as well." That was a bit of that Del practicality coming through, always have a way to keep yourself safe and don't let yourself be caught off guard.
"The sound of the city is nice...Fish likes it....Fish imagines what is making those sounds..." They mimicking something shattering. "Is it a dropped vase or a rock through a window?" A dull but rythymic jangle of metal. "Guards on patrol or a wagon full of metal goods?"
They pause a moment to crack open another clam, "Fish can piece together Fish's surroundings if there is enough information...missing sounds help Fish too. Hushed voices...no pigeons on the roof....a noise suddenly cut off."
After that they continue to eat for a moment, finding a nice little pace to shucking clams. Soon enough they had made it through the small pile they had ordered. It was nice to have fresh seafood for once. Doing a lot of travel lately meant Fish was mostly eating dried things they had stored in their bag.
"Fish will consider it." It wasn't exactly a yes, but Fish was so involved in their dinner they weren't going to give too much thought to anything else in the moment. They are locked in.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 21, 2024 8:18:54 GMT -5
As Cyran sneaked the crab leg to Fish’s plate, a little bird hand snuck out and delivered a clam in turn, believing Cyran to be brokering a deal. Cyran opened his mouth to protest; but Fish was already enjoying their snack, and Cyran figured it was progress that Fish was accepting his food anyways, so he cracked open the clam, and the two continued to share their meal in silence.
Cyran nodded in agreement. “They are hectic, but… warm in the winters when one needs heat they cannot generate on their own.” It was true - Cyran didn’t like that Fish was forced to worry about such practical things. But he was no fool as to think that Fish would never need survival skills in their life. If Fish was going to be out in the world, Cyran wouldn’t let them go without what little knowledge he could share and impart if it meant it might protect them.
Their life, above all else.
“Then we can set up regular traps in tandem. One can never be too careful.” He agreed.
He cracked a fond smile at Fish’s mimicry of the sounds of a city. It was… rather sweet. This glimpse of something that Fish found comfort in; the childlike wonder, the need to solve a puzzle and piece everything together. “It’s quite the informative lullaby. And it’s a good skill to be aware of your surroundings like that.”
He returned to his drink, watching Fish out of the corner of his eye. The aviankin was enjoying their meal with perhaps more enthusiasm than they intended - but that was the point. Cyran wanted to spend time with them outside of the job, to just enjoy life. He was getting far too old for his existence to merely be contract to contract.
Cyran sighed and settled back into his seat. He really was getting tired more easily than usual.
Fish will consider it.
They returned to their meal after uttering the statement, so perhaps they’d miss the almost disbelieving smile that grew on Cyran’s expression. He hadn’t even expected a perhaps; to hear that Fish was not opposed to spending the evening with him, to spending the evening in a room, that on its own was worth its weight in gold.
“Yeah. Okay. Whatever you decide, there will always be a space for you, Fish.” He wasn’t just talking about the inn.
There would always be home for Fish with Cyran and Del, if they wanted it.
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 21, 2024 10:06:44 GMT -5
There was an unfortunate irony that in this moment, Cyran wouldn't get to fully enjoy the seeds he was sowing but it was this work that would start to open up the bird. Without a moment like this, they might not build pillow forts in the future or allow a hug from Astrid. Without this first crack in the armor, Fish wouldn't start to grow and change. In this moment, Fish is still keeping everyone at a distance but Cyran has closed the gap.
Somewhere deep down Fish kind of realized that as well. The discipline and structured parenting from Del did a lot to corral Fish into the pen that was Cyran's heart. The warm and gentle love from the elf does wonders to lower the guard. Fish hadn't ever seen someone so earnestly worried for them. In the guild, Fish's safety was seen more as protecting an investment. People had spent time and gold making sure the bird learned how to be useful, it would go to waste if Fish was injured or died. Cyran was just worried about the actual bird.
So, in the quiet of their little dinner the bird was starting to emotionally molt. Shedding off some of the weight from the trained and learned way to act the guild ingrained in them. The process was not going to get any easier, probably a lot harder as breaking from routine was not something Fish was content with. Thankfully, the bird had found a group of people either equally as stubborn or conversely as gentle as they were to ease the bird into being a person and not a tool.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 22, 2024 10:32:31 GMT -5
Cyran didn’t need Fish to want to play games or have a slumber party - he didn’t expect Fish to want to take big steps in the first place. Right now Fish needed baby steps and Cyran was content to walk the slow path with them. It was a long road ahead of them; but if Fish wanted Cyran and Del there, then he would be there for as much as he could be.
That was his joy in life.
Cyran drummed his fingers against the table in the silence while the both of them digested what had happened today. When it came to being a parent, it wasn’t just about teaching; it was about learning, too. Every day a new lesson. They were hard ones, to be certain. It was no secret Cyran always had his own perceptions of what parenthood and childhood ought to be colored by his own experiences. His life of crime, though necessary, was not one any child should have to suffer.
It was now he was learning that it was not his place to control these paths, but to weather the storm together.
He took another long sip of his cider and found the dredges at the bottom. Gaze focused on the cup, Cyran broke the silence. Perhaps just to speak, or perhaps because after the day’s events he felt a little closer to Fish - and the young bird wasn’t the only one who had to be vulnerable.
“That stuff you do, with the brewing and the mixing and the chemistry. You’re in the Consortium now, right? I don’t pretend to understand, but I like to listen.“ he opened his mouth, perhaps to speak of Marlow - but then he closed it. Leaving it for another time. “If you want to share anything, that is. I like to know what you’re interested in. Learn anything new or cool while on the road?”
A fumbling attempt at small talk, at connection - he wouldn’t mind if Fish wanted to spend the afternoon in silence. But he was here, either way. He wasn’t going anywhere.
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 23, 2024 23:17:06 GMT -5
As Cyran talks, Fish flicks out a small knife to clean out the extra bits from the clam they couldn't eat. Each shell is then cleaned and stored in one of their alchemical pouches. Those would be saved for later apparently, but for what was a mystery at the moment.
Little unanswered questions like that were going to be the sudden and unpredictable summer storm that was raising Fish. Del and Cyran are ostensibly the first adults to actually put time into parenting, like actual parenting. The trio would have to learn together what Fish's specific brand of family looked like because it wasn't going to be traditional that's for sure.
"Fish made a poison to kill God." It was a simple, matter-of-fact answer to Cyran's poison.
They pull out a small vial and let Cyran look it over. The amount is no bigger than a thimble, but the former assassin knows that some poisons don't take much. The strange purple liquid clings to the side of the glass as it sloshes around.
"Fish distilled the neurotoxins like tetrodotoxin from pufferfish and other sources...combine that with other solutions to make it easier to pass into the brain and hit the nervous system...because of how it acts, things resistant to poison are still affected...but the efficency of the poison means it does not last long."
They pause a moment and let Cyran absorb that information before they continue, seemingly anticipating a follow up question.
"Fish does not fully understand Uncle Kvasir's relationship with someone named Kasra, but apparently they are a god and they bother Uncle Kvasir. Fish developed the poison to some day kill Kasra for Uncle Kvasir......Fish likes Uncle Kvasir and does not like anyone bothering him."
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 25, 2024 16:05:28 GMT -5
“O-oh.” That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He wasn’t sure what answer he’d been expecting, really, though the blunt manner by which Fish spoke still managed to come as a shock. He blinked, affixing a neutrally pleasant expression as if the horrors Fish had spoken of were no big deal, really. Honestly, it wasn’t the first time one of his children had committed a war crime, so he honestly shouldn’t be so surprised. “But aren’t the gods already…”
His question was cut short by a vial passed his direction. Cyran held a passing familiarity with poisons - not making them, mind you - but their application. Even a single drop of the substance on a hidden blade could turn the tide of any war. Such a deadly substance for the quantity of it. He held the vial the way one would cradle a baby bird while Fish continued to speak.
The semantics of its construction were lost on him; he doubted he’d even be able to comprehend it if he had been paying full attention to the science. One thing was certain. Fish had made a pretty damn potent poison.
“That’s still pretty dang powerful…” Assuming the god in question wasn't already immune to poisons. Cyran had gone toe to toe with two now, and they seemed untouchable by things as mortal as this. Yet if there was anyone able to achieve the impossible and develop a weapon to kill the immortal, it would be Fish.
The familiar name pulled Cyran out of his thoughts.
“Kvasir?”
Oh, he had an idea of exactly who Kasra was, and what Kasra was doing to the young doctor. Cyran pursed his lips, a spare moment of anger flitting through his heart at the mention of the pain an old acquaintance was going through.
Cyran shouldn’t condone murder.
And yet, the thought that Fish would be willing to go to such lengths for someone they liked…
He wiped another stray tear from his eye and handed the vial back to Fish; ever so careful, as if he expected it to break at a moment’s notice.
“That is really impressive, Fish. And a very kind thing to do for a friend. I’m sure Kvasir would be quite touched to know that someone is looking after him.” Though he really didn’t like the murder implications, he would pick his battles.
That was a conversation to have another time.
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 25, 2024 16:24:31 GMT -5
Cyran's concern was warranted, but in Fish's defense it was created and named before anyone had started to put guardrails up on the train track that was Fish's life. Who's to say what the bird would actually do now if push came to shove......Probably still shoot Kasra if possible. While they are considering whether or not to turn from a life of crime, they do still have the drive to protect family. The difference now was that this family actually reciprocated those feelings.
"Fish also designed this." They hold up one arm and pull on a hidden mechanims in the vambrace.
After a click, the wrist mounted sling shot pops up. They pull on the bands and let go with a little THWIP just to show off how it works. Fish pulls the catch back and folds it back down and it seems to disappear again.
"It can help Fish send potions a longer distance, Fish does not have much strength to throw things, but detonating some of Fish's items too close is dangerous, this allows Fish more options....it is also a hidden weapon if Fish is ever somehow disarmed."
Fish is in full show and tell mode now. They take their cloak in hand and gently tap it on the table with a thunk. A little talon points out to the hem at the bottom of the cloak, Cyran can see some sort of metal sewn inside of the end of the cape.
"It gives Fish a bit more stability when running tight ropes, but also if Fish moves just right it can deflect a blow....Del seemed worried if Fish got caught up close, Fish would be in trouble, so Fish started designing things to help Fish escape."
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 27, 2024 7:24:35 GMT -5
Cyran understood the instinct to protect one’s family all too well. No matter the cost.
Still; indecision weighed heavy on him until Fish changed subjects, moving on to show Cyran some of their other inventions. Fish was often a bird of many hats, a consequence of the sentiments they’d expressed to Cyran earlier, no doubt. The wish to be useful, and the will to survive. One had to learn to adapt to many things. But to Cyran, the sum of their accomplishments made each individual one no less impressive.
His eye lit up as Fish demonstrated how their arm bracer worked. “Oh, wow!” He beamed. “That’s incredible. And so very compact.”
And… honestly, a load off his shoulders knowing Fish had some sort of concealed weapon to protect themselves. The bracer, and the cape Fish showed him next both; it did not surprise him to hear the influence came from Del. She was often of a more practical, grounded mind than him - where he worried at the multitude of weapons concealed on Fish’s person, Del remembered that if they were going to throw themselves into danger regardless, they shouldn’t be unarmed for it.
And more than that - they were quite impressive.
Cyran leaned forward to get a better look at the cape with all the proudness of a man who would never understand the mechanics of it, but knew the gravity of the accomplishments all the same. “Del is right. You can never have too many exit strategies or tricks up your sleeve.” He smiled. “You’ve built some really wonderful things here, Fish. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”
A moment - as brief as it was - untainted by worries of the future. Where Cyran was merely proud of Fish’s endless ingenuity.
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 27, 2024 9:49:57 GMT -5
Fish, with all the confidence of a kid now ready to show off, climbs onto the table to get eye level with Cyran. "Try to hit Fish."
They give the elf a firm look. They are not going to give this up until Cyran complies and the man well knew just how stubborn Fish was already. Generally speaking, you shouldn't just give in to a kids every demand, but Fish was a unique case in that if you didn't they had ways to force compliance.
Assuming Cyran comes at them with a simple punch, Fish quickly flicks their wrists letting a pair of throwing knives slide into their hands. One knife swipes to catch the cloth of Cyran's sleeve and pull the strike off balance. The other knife slips across Cyran's chest.[1] The blade side of the knives is kept facing the wrong way so Cyran is not harmed physically.
"Aunt Izzy taught Fish some things as well. Fish cannot always assume escape is possible, so Fish needs to be prepared to fight even if Fish doesn't like fighting." An odd admission for a bird that seemed so well-equipped for murder.
1. Rogue's Riposte
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 28, 2024 9:37:13 GMT -5
Fish’s next request left Cyran at a loss for words.
“Huh?”
Absolutely not. No. Cyran did not possess any inclination to hit Fish, under any circumstances. And yet, they seemed so insistent… and then it clicked. Considering all they’d been showing to Cyran today, this must have been part of their demonstration. Cyran bit his lip, still not wanting to throw an actual punch at the bird, but wanting them to be able to share what they knew and had learnt over their travels.
“Okay, if you insist…” He mumbled, curling his fingers into a fist. Though he knew conceptually how to throw a punch, he did not possess the prowess that his fiancée did. His stance awkwardly mimicked her own, and in sharp contrast to the way he danced with a blade, he moved slowly now - his punch easily telegraphed for Fish to see and react to.
And they did.
In two swipes Fish had used Cyran’s own momentum against him. One to knock him aside, and another to deliver a slash against his chest that would have been fatal if Fish were not so careful with their blades, the slash as gentle as a whisper.
“Wow!” Cyran’s eyes were wide as he picked himself up and recovered his balance. He vaguely recognized the name Izzy - perhaps it would be prudent to seek her out if she was someone that Fish was close with… just to be careful. Cover all his bases. But she clearly seemed to care for Fish, if she was teaching them redirection tactics. “You’ve learned so much since we last worked together.”
Not to mention how much they’d learned to protect their own person…
How nice it was, Cyran thought, to watch Fish learn and grow, and become so well rounded. Even emotionally; the progress they’d made was astounding.
“I’m very proud.” Words that might have seemed patronizing, or perhaps words Fish might not have cared to hear. But this had always been Cyran’s favorite part of being a parent - even if Fish didn’t consider him as such. It was watching a young life mature and grow as a person, and learn. Fish had the world in the palm of their hands, and Cyran hoped to be there as they continued to forge their own path. Whatever lay at the end of it.
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 28, 2024 20:32:41 GMT -5
Fish's feathers and chest ruffle up unexpectedly. Being told someone was proud of them was clearly a new sensation and not something that Fish was used to. Not knowing what to do they simply slip back down into a sitting position on the table, legs splooted out in front of them.
Someone was proud of them. They would have to sit and process this one for awhile. Fish had been congratulated plenty of times or thanked for doing jobs, but no one ever stopped to share a feeling of pride.
They quietly reach for their juic to take a drink in silence and think.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 29, 2024 7:24:14 GMT -5
There was a moment of prolonged silence which stretched over the next few seconds after Cyran spoke. Fish’s feathers ruffled up, which Cyran also secretly thought was rather adorable, though he’d never voice it. For a moment he had to wonder if he’d accidentally offended the young thief. But then Fish merely sat down and reached for their juice, and drank in a state Cyran could only describe as a stupor, and he figured that they were merely processing what he’d said.
The day had left them both with a lot to think about, it seemed.
Cyran picked at the last of his meal, allowing the rest of the evening to pass in silence while Fish thought, and Cyran watched the dying embers in the fireplace, feeling… oddly light, in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Today had been a good day.
There had been less and less of those as of late.
For an alarming, sobering minute, Cyran remembered who he was with; and all of the secrets he and Del had yet to tell Fish. Not out of lack of trust, but because they weren’t even sure how. Zarius’s death, Cyran’s retirement of his mantle.
He opened his mouth, and for a moment, Cyran almost let all of those horrible secrets slip.
But then, perhaps selfishly, he thought better of it. Today had been a good day. He didn’t want to ruin that with ill tidings and hard truths. There would be other times to tell Fish, Cyran hoped. Just… not tonight.
Eventually he stood, and offered his arm for Fish to perch once more, should they choose to accept it. “It’s getting fairly late. My offer is still open, if you’d like to sleep in my room for the night.” Even if not, Cyran thought there was still a couple of warm places nearby for Fish to spend the night. Mentally, he was already adjusting for future missions - he’d have to take great care to pick inns near spots where Fish might like to roost, so they could still comfortably rest nearby, if they so wished.
But today, they would have to make do. At the very least, Cyran hoped they would say yes… if only so they could sleep somewhere warm for the night. But there was never any expectation. As he’d said before. He loved Fish, free spirit and all.
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 29, 2024 9:01:12 GMT -5
Little did Cyran know the decision not to have those conversations would lead to whatever nonsense is happening at Zarius' family home in the future. The bird was always going to be unpredictable though, a lesson that would be learned by any parental figure would have to go through time and time again. Fish's mind was not one that followed a straight line and one of their few negative traits was impulsiveness. What they saw as being decisive was really just them going off to do their own thing when the whim took them.
Today showed those lessons can only be learned one day at a time. Cyran was probably the only person in Fish's life that knew how long and difficult the process of untangling a life of crime can be. That it isn't something the bird is going to be able to just drop overnight especially when it is really the only thing they had ever known. A fact likely not lost on the elf.
The good news in all of this was Fish had time. Being so young made the life experience hurt to hear, but it also meant that they still had a lot of time left to change things. Time to escape that life and find something new.
Fish nods to Cyran's questions having been thoroughly disarmed through the conversation. They follow him upstairs into a room, looking around for a moment. With no rafters to perch in, they do still set up a hammock in the corner of the room. They anchor wires in front of the door and attach them to flash flask potions, anyone sneaking in through the door would be blinded.
With an alarm set they hop back into the hammock and nestle down into the cloth. They remove no equipment and do not change for sleep. Another little quirk of their upbringing, not understanding the concept of pajamas or at the very least not sleeping in your same clothes all the time.
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