lukeoutbelow | (no subject)

Julien had been feeling unwell for a couple of days. He'd spent all of yesterday in, doing nothing much but sleep and eat, feeling hungry almost constantly. Putting away the detritus left behind by that seemed unusually difficult. He had to leave some wrappers where they lay, and couldn't focus to cook, and that thing kept happening, where it was like he couldn't remember how to move his face, and somehow his resting expression was a Mona Lisa look.

He'd wanted to think he was just sick. It didn't happen much at all, his body wasn't used to it. But on some level, he knew. It was in the occasional paralysis of his face, and the thick warm feeling in his sternum, and the way both his hips clicked when he stood up.

So in a way it wasn't a surprise when he woke and that feeling was pressing out, hot and throbbing and painful, getting worse as he pressed his wing against his chest. It was a surprise when he tried to get up, and fell. He'd wanted, when he thought about this day coming, to do it alone, but he couldn't manage to heat water or pick athelas. It hurt. Eventually he couldn't take it. He had to call for help.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Julien's known the species for a while. It's not something he's happy about. Even though he wouldn't enjoy turning into cooler birds either, somehow pigeon just extra lacks dignity. Neck curving he closes his beak and blows air out through his nares, clearing them messily. They're certainly bigger nostrils now. He really only has to blow his nose the once.

Aaron is staring. Julien tries to turn his head to look him straight on, but his neck muscles are completely different; they spasm and and he turns his head too fast and too far, ending up with his beak turned in the other direction, his other eye looking up. Fine.

His eyes are very blue, with no whites visible. It's the same silvery blue they've been since they changed one summer, with the same pebbled texture. They still dilate and tighten. It's just... the skin around them isn't mobile. The blue feathers arcing over them trace the shape of eyebrows without actually being able to work the same way. It's easy to read intelligence into his gaze, but they are animal eyes, bright and strange.

He reaches, as he always reaches, for the appearance of strength. There's a reputation he has for resilience. Have to keep up appearances. Really Julien feels adrift, or like he's floating a foot or so back behind his eyes. This isn't real, and he is calm.

"I'm going to guess it's bad." If his voice is deeper and strange it's because it has to travel from his chest up a much longer windpipe. Parts of his neck expand mildly when he speaks, and his mouth opens and closes not like a puppet of a bird, but in the slightly off way of a real creature.