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[aeviternitas]

∞ The Murmur          (IC INBOX)

« the forsaken »

as an apparition within the Murmur that vessels share, the Forsaken most often appears sitting in a plain wooden chair with a low rounded back, gazing despondently into the distance. reach out?

thought     ∞     voice     ∞     vision

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[aeviternitas]

[ Rain hummed thoughtfully, a finger to his lip. ] And will I notice this treasure missing, once it has been artfully thieved?

[ Even in their conversation, he found his gaze drifting to the colorful leaves, the flowers that bloomed across climbing vines. With most of the city made of varying shades of grey or beige, and most of his time spent there, flora - of any kind, really - were still a novelty for the Forsaken, a god who had lived countless lifetimes in a waste of sand and stone.

His attention turned to the brick building as they neared, head tilting to peer through a broken window, though remained in step. ]

[markingnight]

[ A playful smile. ] I certainly hope so. It's half the fun.

[ He opened the door, gesturing for Rain to step inside, whereupon he would be greeted by the warmer air of the interior. ]

This is the old Tropic Zone. It was built like a greenhouse, to mimic forests far south of Manhattan.

[ Tangled branches, vines laden with fans of brightly-colored leaves and blooms. A circular wooden walkway along the interior had been built to allow visitors to enjoy the central display of forest greenery, as well as an outer ring of trees that surrounded all. Some parts of the greenhouse glass were broken, but enough yet remained that many of the creatures that had been housed inside still sheltered here, away from the winter cold.

At first, only faint rustlings from all corners. Then a plush-crested jay glided down to inspect them, boldly hopping from branch to branch as it voiced its slightly mournful cry. Afterward, a superb starling, half hidden by heavy leaves, resumed its own song. The more one looked, the more one might spot more creatures -- some hiding, some dozing, others quarrelling or swooping at each other in play. They and their habitat were changed by Sleep's influence, yet they remained, as vibrant and full of life as they'd been before The Fall.

Ironeye dipped into his satchel for a bag of salvaged birdseed, and offered it to Rain. His manner was almost shy. ]

I've been coming here to feed them in secret. If they see you have treats, they're sure to crowd 'round.

[aeviternitas]

[ It was like stepping into another world.

Some things were recognizable: many of the growths echoed across the rest of the city, but many of the blooms Rain had never seen before. It was quiet at first, as he took in the sight with an expression of unguarded awe. Then, a rustle that drew his attention with a snap of his gaze - drawing Sleep's ire had seen him followed incessantly by Hosts - including one that he had woken to standing over him, having let itself in through a window with a broken latch. Though the Hosts had finally receded, his nervous system was still on high alert.

But there are no Hosts here, only colorful birds that bounce here to there and chirp and call and sing. The ones at the lake and at the marina had their own majesty, but these were something else entirely.

The god's attention turned again only for the rustle of Ironeye's satchel, though more calmly. He accepted the bag, something soft and appreciative in the smile that crept across his tired countenance.

Withdrawing a handful of seed, Rain's attention returned to the birds. Just as Ironeye had said, one bird hopped curiously closer, then another. He leant down, scattering the handful a small distance away. One by one, then two by two, birds swooped to peck at the far edge of the scattered seeds. Silent, slow, the Forsaken crouched down to better watch. At length, he glanced up to Ironeye, the smile slipping back into place. ]

[markingnight]

[ Ironeye knelt down alongside him, expression softened, attention divided between the gathering flock and Rain. Birds with feathers like emerald scales, crested birds with sky blue masks, bright golden weavers that chattered energetically. Attracted by the commotion, the largest and plumpest pigeon Ironeye had ever seen (and likely ever would again) waddled up, looking ever-expectant and hopeful for a meal. ]

That one is a crowned pigeon. He's especially tame. Not a bone of self-preservation in his body.

[ While some were more shy, another simply hopped down onto the archer's shoulder. ]

...And this one. Quite a menagerie, isn't it? Whoever gathered them all together must have truly cared for them.

[ For all he knew, perhaps some of these birds were treated as pets. Certainly some of the parrots seemed to expect attention as if they were. He reached into his bag again, and took out a few slices of golden fruit for Rain. ]

Here. These are quite popular.

[aeviternitas]

[ Flowers and mushrooms of various colors existed across the ruined city, but most of it was shades of grey and beige. And his prison before, mostly the same even if the shapes were different. But this place, with its vibrant flora and somehow more vibrant fauna, was almost overwhelming in its beauty.

The pigeon (wildly different from what someone else had called a pigeon, dun grey and slim, flying overhead one day) startled the god with its boldness, expression opening in surprise. ] Oh - hello.

[ He reached for more seed, though Ironeye offered a different treat. He held out a bandaged hand for the slices, and extended one cautiously to the large bird. ] I've never seen birds like these. Strange they stay here, if they are meant for the south.

...What food is this? [ he asked of the gold fruit, though his attention was already again on the pigeon as it eyed him this way and that, then plucked the fruit from his outstretched fingers. ]

[markingnight]

There weren't quite so many when I started. Maybe some of them see this as shelter. [ And maybe they'd spread the word once their friends figured out someone was offering free meals. It was also entirely possible that some of these birds had simply been born here, with no memory of their southerly origins. He had no way of knowing, really. ]

[ The Victoria crowned pigeon took the slice in his beak with an almost comical wobble of his lacy crown-feathers. He was indeed surprisingly docile, and seemed to have an eternally puzzled expression. ]

I'm not sure myself. The fruit of my world is quite different. I've seen animals eating them off the tree, though. They're quite sweet.

[ As if in envy of seeing the pigeon receive a treat, the bright yellow parrot using Ironeye for a perch let out a protesting chirrup. It, however, was significantly smaller than the pigeon. ]