Errands

Posted on Sun Dec 1st, 2024 @ 15:56 by Alastair Temple & Rebecca McMillen

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Art classroom
3805 words - 7.6 OF Standard Post Measure

"Hey," a rich baritone intoned, as its owner darkened the doorway to the art classroom. It was a moment after school hours, the last students had just left, leaving the art teacher alone, just gathering her stuff. "Mind if I borrow you for a little while? I've got something I need an artist's eye for, in town," Alastair asked, hesitation but hope in his tone.

Where there were once windows, there was now artwork covering most of the light streaming in. Where there was once a view of the outside world, there was now a curtain of creativity, but a curtain nonetheless. Rebecca was cleaning up some of the leftover supplies to keep from dipping into her fresh supply so graciously delivered to her. Al's announcement startled her a little, but as much as she tried to hide it, that tail never lied.

"Hey." she responded in kind, turning to face the musician. She looked tired, but she wasn't sleepy at all. "Just give me back when you're done." she tried to follow the joke. Then something clicked, "In town? I..." she peeked out through a gap in the artwork barrier at the barricade by the bridge. At the checkpoint. "I'm going to assume you have a plan that doesn't involve just walking out?" she asked, pulling away from the window.

"Walking? Who do you take me for," Al smirked, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "No, I'll just fly us over, no sweat," before turning a bit more serious. "I've commissioned various designs for my new band logo and was wondering if you'd be willing to cast in your vote about which one to go with. I've got an ear for music, but no eye for art," he explained, motioning in the vague direction of town. "It would involve you going small and riding my back in bird firm while I fly us over. Be about an hour, hour and a half, before we're back. Only if you feel confident and comfortable enough to, of course. I'd recommend dressing warm."

She gave a smirk. Were she in a better mood there'd be a joke there somewhere. Looking out the window again, she closed her eyes, her most recent mantra running through her head. She couldn't run away. No matter how much this castle started to feel like a dollhouse. She couldn't run away.

Walls of stone felt like walls of plaster. Eyes. Lights. She backed away from the window and took a breath, "Let me get my coat." and she walked towards the door. "Meet on the roof, or?"

"Sure," Al agreed. "I'll be there in five minutes. You'll know me by being about twice the size of any other corvid potentially up there," he smiled, before making his way out again.

True to his word, some five minutes later, the flapping of wings announced his arrival. A majestic creature, a raven, wingspan well over eight feet, landed on the roof with a hop. A caw in greet as the ten pound bird waddled over to Rebecca and sat down, wings spread and resting on the roof tiles for her to climb on, if needed. The feathered friend, measuring just under four feet from the tip of its beak to the tip of its pennaceous tailfeathers, rested, giving the art teacher access to its back.

Rebecca stayed low on the roof as she noticed the absolutely enormous raven. "Oh, umm, caw." she replied in humor. True to her word she had abandoned her teaching outfit for something a little more weather worthy. Also, lacking in any identification of Avalon. As though there were ANOTHER mouse sized woman running about. It didn't take too much of a wait for her to start prepping for the trip. Smaller, smaller, smaller, Rebecca diminished until she had abandoned humanity and became one with the rodent world. Scrambling up the offered wing, the reduced Rebecca was hardly worth weighing, stepping lightly to make it to the carvus' back, where she found two feather stems that she'd choose as her grip.

"Miss Johnathan Brisby to Jeremy... I'm as ready as I'll ever be." That movie was a lot less funny from a mouse's perspective. She readied herself for something she'd never experienced before: Flight at the hands of someone she trusted. It was too late to even consider backing out.

"Secret," the raven replied, mimicking a human voice. "Nimh," it added. One could consider it speech, if one were generous. Very generous. In reality it was all Alastair could do in this form to approximate single words with corvid mimicry. Still, his full intelligence behind it, it was surprisingly effective. Once he'd given her enough time to settle in and he felt by her grip on his neck feathers he rose to his feet again and, with powerful beating of majestic wings, he took to the air. Though where normally he'd engage in at least some basic aerobatics to celebrate the freedom of flight, now with a passenger he made sure to be as smooth and gently as possible.

She had a feeling Al was still in there. Birdbrain and all. It reassured her, not that she had doubts but confirmation of such was always comforting. It's that comfort that would hold her spirits as the bird she was saddled with would take to the sky. The initial flap flap flap and take off froze her soul, to the point where she forgot to scream. Probably for the best, as the rare European Screaming Raven wasn't known in these parts at this time of year. When she finally did thaw her mortality and found her voice, she didn't feel the need to scream anymore. This was a window into the world as Al saw it... freedom, flight, the power to go anywhere...

She knew this feeling from beneath. The undercity, a maze of pipes and ledges, a world mankind built but avoids. This here, the world above, was where mankind marveled and dared. This was Al's world. The more she thought about it, the more she smiled. The more she cried. Not tears of fear or sorrow or doubt. Almost tears of joy, of freedom. Also tears of cold wind in her face. Remember to blink!

Next time, flight goggles. Like what's her name, Gizmo Somethingwrench...

As she became more comfortable, more joyous, Alastair dared include some very low key aerobatics. A bank left, a bank right, flying up with powerful flaps of his wings, then gliding down towards the ground. Pulling up right above the trees, doing a lazy slalom between lamp posts parallel to a road ... This was the life. If asked, he'd always admit that he felt more ... real in this form, that his human self was the disguise. And it wasn't difficult to see why. All of the world's problems seemed so small from up here.

The freedom of flight, not needing to follow winding roads, meant that getting to town wasn't a long and arduous journey. Once there, he'd find an alley near his destination, and swooped down, slowing as he did, to land with the beating of wings and a hop on clawed raven feet. Once more he'd come to rest, lowering himself and resting his wings on the ground as he did, giving his passenger an easy and comfortable way down to the cold cobbles.

She really did enjoy herself on the ride, her grip tightened as he started showing off. Banks, dives, climbs, she gripped into those feather stems a bit tighter during those stunts, but she just rationalized that those were Perfectly Normal Birb Moves (tm) and so she wouldn't vocally complain. Not that she could think he'd hear her, seeing as how she could barely hear herself. Oh look, here comes the trees... oh and now duck and weave. Definitely all required.

The landing was rough, but that was because it was the first that she had ever experienced, so she'd mentally give Al an 8 out of 10 for it. On shaky legs she slid down the wing back to terra firma, a little wobbly, a little twitchy from the adrenaline. Breath, Becca. Breath. Wiping the cold-induced tears from her eyes, she checked to make sure there were no onlookers, and then returned to the normal-sized world once again with little effort. She then played lookout for Al, while also giving him a modicum of privacy during his return to the groundlings.

Al's shifting form wasn't as gentle as Rebecca's changing size. Instead of a smooth transition, there was a dull, rumbling thud of sudden air displacement, along with a few downy feathers flying left and right. Afterwards though, Alastair stood, slightly unsteady at first, though quickly regaining his footing. Though where earlier he'd seemed energetic, now he seemed quite tired. It wasn't the flying, but the shifting that took it out of him. And they still had to get back to the castle, later.

"And here we are," he mused. "The print shop is just over there, a few minutes walk, not too far," beat. "How are you holding up? You seemed nervous at first, a bit scared, even. Though later on you seemed more relaxed. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable for you?"

"Well, as far as bird flights I've taken it ranks pretty high up there." she teased, trying to stay positive. "Oh it was terrifying at first, but after a bit I just kinda relaxed and enjoyed it. Kidna just let go, without... you know... letting go." she offered a helpful demonstration, her hands in front of her and then they just, let go.

"It was new, different, scary, but it beats falling. Just, flying is a bit of a worry for me. Well, less 'flying' and more 'getting tossed in the air' but, that wasn't this. So..." she just trailed off, "Let's go."

"Yeah, sure," Al smiled, motioning towards the direction of the print shop. True to his word it only took a few minutes to get there, even as they drew a few stares with the juxtaposition of their looks - Alastair tall and dark, dressed in an almost monochrome ensemble, with dramatic and heavy military style black greatcoat over heavy leather boots, and the much smaller Rebecca in tasteful winter clothes, various tasteful pastel colors, in an almost bohemian style.

Soon enough they entered the print shop, where Al made his way towards the counter where he showed his ID and asked for the prints he'd been told were ready. Once handed over he took them out of the envelope and placed them on the counter. Various examples of the words 'Temple of Zhao' in various styles. From the grotesque and barely readable, to the tasteful autumn-like, to wistful and dreamy, to dark and gothic.

"Any preference?" he asked Rebecca. "It's for a project with a slow, melancholy, heavy but melodic style of music."

Standing next to Al really made her feel shorter than she actually was. Though having him deflect all the attention from herself to him was welcome. An Attention Diversion, if nothing else. They made their way to the print shop, and Rebecca relaxed slightly. Less eyes, less attention. She didn't want to try to draw attention to herself, since this was the OTHER side of the barricade. No walls here to hide in.

Though once she was examining the print fonts, in her element, she relaxed fully. "Hmmm..." she laid the samples out to look at them all. "Tell me about the album? Not the music, not the beat... tell me what I'm supposed to be feeling when I listen to the album. What emotion are you going for? What's the theme?" she asked, trying to get a better idea about the inside of the album to better consider the outside.

"Hmm," Al considered for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew what the feel of the album was going to be, of course, but to put a feeling into words was a different thing altogether. "The atmosphere is gloomy, like a cold winter's night, fresh snow, the sun going down. Melancholy, with elements of dreams. Wistful, a longing to a different time, where magic existed just around the corner. A wish to escape to another world that's perhaps not as real as the one we live in. It is not a happy album. Slow, heavy, but melodic. Violin soaring over crushing guitar. The lyrics have a subtext of protest."

She tried to imagine the notes to songs she never heard, something to put her in the right moodset, the right emotional state. A wish to escape. Gloomy. Cold. Seeking refuge. She had just the mindscape to imagine such feelings. Art teacher? No. Middle sister. "This one." She chose a more gothic font, legible yes but somewhat imposing. It fit the title of the album nicely enough, but to her it also spoke of the expectation. The title was where you were going, some ancient hidden temple. The typeset was the expectation. Escape your world for the one you seek.

"I think this one is the best for that mood. This one is too edgy and prickly, this one is too conventional. This one is... borderline illegible." she didn't know what to really say about that last one. Experience emotions you cannot describe? Feelings beyond your comprehension? Sounds too occult for her tastes.

"You sure?" Al didn't disagree, he was drawn towards the same one. Almost monochrome, but with a dash of subtle red to draw the focus. Once again he considered, leaning on the countertop, glancing between the one she had suggested and his own favorite. Eventually though the choice was made and he nodded. "Alright, we'll go with that one. I'll let the artist know and send him his commission. Thanks, Rebecca," a smile, as he took all the designs and put them in the envelope again, the winner on top. "I'm done here for now, is there anywhere you'd like to go before we head back?"

Rebecca returned his smile, and gave a nod. After a moment of thought she gave another nod, "Yeah there's one place we should go to while we're here. Little pastry bakery." She said mysteriously, as if Gabriella's shop was the best kept secret in town. "Just a quick nibble before we head back." Truth told, she had no way to hold a to-go bag while holding on for dear life. Next time she'd think ahead and bring a backpack or something.

"Sure thing. Lead the way," Al rumbled, motioning towards the exit of the print shop. He followed her, thes slow Thud Thud of his footsteps contrasting the patta patta of Rebecca's as they went. On the way there he mused, "I could carry a little bag if you want to bring some for home. In fact, I think I'm gonna do just that. I know Liana likes those pastries and truth be told, they are pretty good."

"Might be a bit conspicuous but I'm certainly thinking it. Should have brought a backpack, but didn't know the details." Rebecca admitted, leading out of the print shop and across the town. She was sticking to crowds, blending in vanishing... she might have been overreacting, but he'd rather be parsnips and safe then not.. and not.

"There we are. She commissioned me to do the art on the window." Rebecca said with pride. The detail work was incredible...,

Alastair gave a low whistle, standing in front of the window for a moment, taking it all in. He didn't know much about art, just enough to be able to appreciate the flowing lines drawing the eye in, the themes of color, the focal point where the shop's name was. "It's amazing," he offered in a quiet voice. "Almost makes me regret having such a gloomy theme with my music," he added with a soft chuckle. "Your command of color is amazing, I'm not half as talented as you are," though he was selling himself a bit short, there. Where she painted with color, he painted with sounds - and where her weapon was the brush, his was his guitar. Painting was how one decorated space. Music, how one decorated time.

If she had a hood, she'd burrow into it. "..... thank you.." she said softly, meek in the presence of a compliment. She wasn't used to receiving them. "And you shush, I'll... lemme try a cover once and see what I can do." she said, deflecting praise with the adamantine walls of piling up more work. "Besides, I couldn't hold a tune if it had handles." she then shifted from the impenetrable defense of bury it under work.... to the never-fail of Deflection!

"Her window broke, so she asked me to make a new design. It was this or subliminal messaging, and I'm fresh out of hypnotic paint." she said, returning at last to humor.

"I mean, I could include a little whispered, backwards recorded sample in one of my songs if you want to go the subliminal messaging route. Beats messages from Satan, like so many puritans accuse of being on every other metal song," Alastair chuckled. For now though the two decided to get out of the cold - the flight home was going to be chilly enough - and warm themselves up a bit in the bakery.

That got Rebecca thinking, "Oh please, hidden messages like 'all mice rise up' or 'I'm very cheesed to meet you' or..." then she paused, "Al you're a genius. I'll tell you later, back home." Rebecca seemed quite energetic now, it was getting hard to hide her tail twitchy twitch. She'd place an order for a muffin now and a muffin to go. Banana nut, both of them. "Once you've got what you want, we can go." oh she had a sparkle in her eye.

"It's not often I get called that," Al seemed surprised but intrigued. Negotiating a purchase didn't take long - one ham-and-cheese croissant for him and one for Liana (though if she didn't want it he'd happily eat it himself), all in a baggie and off they went, back to the alley. Once there he sat the baggie down, closed his eyes on concentration and with another poof there stood the large raven again. Just as before he lowered to the ground, wings spread on the cobbles, and waited for Rebecca to get comfortable.

Rebecca's transition from big to not-big soon followed. No poof, just the visual diminishment of the blonde. It almost looks like an optical illusion. Something like the room that looks like people are shrinking as they walk across it, except in her case the effect was a little more actual. She scrambled up onto the wing, and then up onto the back of the immense raven. Finding stable purchase on some feather stems, she got a good grip before she gave a nod and simply announced, "Okay, ready."

Takeoff was not as smooth this time as it had been earlier, courtesy of Al having to grab hold of the bag of pastries before being able to take to the skies fully, but once in the air the flight was smooth as ever. No aerobatics this time, not even low key ones, mostly because of aforementioned bag of baked goods. Staying lower to the ground this time, just skimming above the trees and flying across fields - the castle wasn't far, as the raven flew.

Then once again landing, though once again touching down as a little more involved than before, because of the cargo. Still though, soon enough they were on the ground again and once more his passenger let off easily and smoothly. Once she was down another poof as he transformed, looking positively exhausted and taking a moment to sit down to catch his breath.

For the most part, Rebecca appreciated the lack of theatrics on the trip back. There was that tiny little part of her that wanted to see about more banks and ducks and weaves and... was it still a duck if a raven did it? Questions for later. The direct path back home was appreciated as it had gotten a little colder since they departed, and the cold air stung into her cheeks and eyes as he flew. Her grip tightened during the rough take off, and doubly so at the rough landing.

She was grateful to be on solid ground again, but truth being said, this was an amazing experience. This was FUN! She'd return to normal, holding the to-go bag as Al regained his human form and composed himself. "Takes a lot out of you, I guess?" she offered once he was at least up for conversation.

"Let's get inside. There's tea in there somewhere." she offered with a smile.

"Yeah, let's," Al agreed, rising to his full height again to follow Rebecca inside. "It does take a lot out of me, yes. Not the flying though, I can do that for hours at a time. It's the shifting forms that does it."

She gave a nod as she walked with, back to the interior of the castle. "Yeah, you seemed to enjoy yourself that first bit." she teased slightly. "If we ever have to do that again, remind me to pack some goggles. Though, that's not what sparked. What you said before, hidden messages. I, I want to try to record talking to a mouse. Not just to see if it'll work on a recording, but to see if it's something I'm SAYING, or something I'm DOING, that makes it happen."

"I'm curious about how I do, what I do." she admitted, "Now that I have the freedom to be me, on my terms. I want to know." she paused in her daydream, "And who knows, maybe record a successful line of audio cassette that you play to get mice to leave your pantry alone." at that, she giggled.

"Well, it just so happens I have some recording equipment, slightly better quality than your average tape deck off of a shelf in the hi fi store," Al agreed. "Tell you what; I need a bite to eat, need to rest up a bit. We can meet at the music class room in - two hours? That work for you?"

"Would you imagine that, the music teacher has recording equipment." she giggled, "Yeah, two hours sounds perfect. And, thank you for a unique experience. I've never had the experience of flight that wasn't just extra stress. This was, it was exciting." she hesitated, then found her voice again, "Two hours then. See you then."

"Alright, see you then," Al offered with an exhausted smile, as he started his way towards his room.