TUCSON
because regret drives you as crazy
as the taste of swallowed words
as the taste of swallowed words
T
ucson was surprised—but pleased—to see a stranger, and one he certainly didn’t recognise. They materialised from the cold night seeming, perhaps, just a bit flustered. It was with a sweeping glance that he assessed her and her possessions, primarily the satchel. He took note of the way she carried herself, even through the warm intoxication that spread through him. Tucson liked to call that the walk of Courtly purpose.On second thought, maybe she was just freezing her ass off. That seemed plausible. His ears perked in her direction and his attention immediately abandoned the cliffside and notions of the west in favour for her agreeable face and… Not that Courtly proper bullshit. ”Aw, darlin’, no need for that nonsense. I ain’t no sir, jus’ Tucson.” He dipped his head to lessen the sting of the words—he had found some people in these parts were sensitive to such comments—and offered a broad, warm smile. It was the ease of a smile from one who, as a boy, knew just how handsome it made his face. Tucson had long ago learned that people liked him more when he smiled, and ever since he smiled at every opportunity.
”Now, if only y’had the wings. There’s just isn’t much in way of towns hereabouts—‘cept for a, uh, soldiers’ output, a little ways off. The Court isn’t too far, but flyin’ sure does make it faster. Yer choice though, darlin’.” Tucson’s tone was light—downright amiable, even. His grand wings folded tighter, neater, against his frame with a rustle—and in the brightness of the night, against the reflection of the snow, their hints of gold were just barely discernible. But only in the way the membranous folds bent the light, turning it into a nearly mystic suggestion. ”I g’some whiskey to keep it from gettin’ too nippy. I dunno if yer the drinkin’ type, though.” He would have winked, if not for the darkness. Nevertheless, he fixed her with another one of his glances, the sort of glance that took in everything all at once.
She was pretty, in that sophisticated, nice girl sort of way. Pretty, in her refined, aristocratic features and her pleasant coloring. There was a rose in her hair and that, to Tucson, seemed like the sort of simple extravagance that marked Novus as something entirely different from what he had been accustomed his entire life. But in a strange way, he liked it. Tucson began to turn, a little reluctantly, from the cliffside… but thinking differently, he tucked his shoulder and, rather than abandon it, rolled off the edge.
She seemed too serious.
He hoped that woke her up. Tucson was plummeting, but the heart-in-the-throat sensation of the fall had long-since left him. He twisted his body midair and with a sudden twitch of his muscles, threw out his wings—simultaneously, with a loud, high-pitched call that went something like yee-yeee-yeeee! His wings immediately caught the air, slowed his descent, and with a tuck of his left shoulder and dip of the left wing, he turned and began to ascend up the cliffside in a series of violent flaps. ”Don’t mind me,” he asserted, as he landed elegantly beside her, eyes alight with mischief. ”Y’ve decided where y’wanna go? Soldier's camp, or the Court?” Either way, without further invitation Tucson had begun to walk—the direction to each was similar, from the cliffside.
Tucson was as giddy as a school-child at the prospect of some new conversation; and there was always some amusement to be had from playing with the sentiments of those Courtly folk, with all their refinement and politeness. But, after the little cliff-stunt, he decided he ought to be on his best behaviour for at least a few more minutes. And so, he forced himself to somber, and bite his stream of commentary off, for now. He was incredibly intrigued, however, by her satchel in addition to her sudden appearance in the night.
@Messalina | "speaks" | notes: ahah... i'm still feeling him out c: BUT I AM ALSO VERY EXCITED TO THREAD WITH YOU <3 i love her already!
