http://skyboundmisfit.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
skyboundmisfit.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92012-01-04 05:37 pm
skyboundmisfit.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92012-01-04 05:37 pm
Entry tags:
Feet on the ground; head in the clouds [ Open; Post-SHODAN, Pre-exploring plot ]
Tobias didn't usually morph human. It made him feel too heavy, too clumsy, and above all far too blind. But he did it once in a long while. Like today. He was wandering along the edge of the lazy river that had been cut into the soil of the City, hands clasped behind his head. He wasn't dressed in much; what looked like bike shorts and an awkwardly tight t-shirt. His feet bare and digging into the soil and grass of the shoreline.
He didn't do this often, but sometimes it was good to stretch your legs as much as your wings, to remember what it felt like to have thumbs and lips and fingers. It also helped to collect his thoughts in a way that flight didn't. What was he doing here? The amazing Birdboy, more bird than boy now. The entire enterprise felt strange to him. He couldn't be of much help, he felt, what with being stuck (was he really stuck) as a bird except for two hour chunks of time. But the others were here and that helped assure him that he could be useful, even if it was only helping them.
As things stand, other crew members might be interested in this strange boy that's arrived in their midst. That had been one of his big objections to it: people finding out he could morph. So he'd gotten a bunch of dumb fake names from Marco and settled on a pseudonym eventually. Let them believe he'd come aboard in the last pop.
The boy stooped to pick up a rock and turned it over in his fingers, feeling the warm stone in his palm before hurling it out into the river. He had an hour or so left. He'd take his time for now.
He didn't do this often, but sometimes it was good to stretch your legs as much as your wings, to remember what it felt like to have thumbs and lips and fingers. It also helped to collect his thoughts in a way that flight didn't. What was he doing here? The amazing Birdboy, more bird than boy now. The entire enterprise felt strange to him. He couldn't be of much help, he felt, what with being stuck (was he really stuck) as a bird except for two hour chunks of time. But the others were here and that helped assure him that he could be useful, even if it was only helping them.
As things stand, other crew members might be interested in this strange boy that's arrived in their midst. That had been one of his big objections to it: people finding out he could morph. So he'd gotten a bunch of dumb fake names from Marco and settled on a pseudonym eventually. Let them believe he'd come aboard in the last pop.
The boy stooped to pick up a rock and turned it over in his fingers, feeling the warm stone in his palm before hurling it out into the river. He had an hour or so left. He'd take his time for now.
no subject
"So, Frank Furter. Or is it Al Nino? Bill Ding? I still say you should go with Joe King, man," Marco said as he wondered up to Tobias.
no subject
"Though I did seriously consider Seymour Butts, thanks for that one."
no subject
Marco wasn't in the mood for tossing stones, so instead he just sad down on a nearby rock and eyed Tobias's progress. "Great choice in activity, man. Most people would decide that morphing human is a good time to, say, play video games, or cruise for chicks, or do something that's actually interesting. You? You throw pebbles."
no subject
"Hey, you can't throw stuff when you're a bird, gotta take the chance when you get it," he quipped, looking back towards Marco.
"Besides, it's too easy to get distracted playing video games. Lose track of time."
no subject
"Dude, that is so not a good enough excuse to not play video games. We should get like a stopwatch or something. Either that or make someone invent a controller that works with birds. We can call it the Birdstick."
no subject
"And arms for that matter." A glance at Marco.
"Really? The Birdstick? That's awful. Besides, how do you play video games without thumbs?"
no subject
no subject
"I get enough of mouse eating in my day to day life. Why would I want to do that in a video game? Besides, here it would just make me hungry for the real thing. Food here is terrible.
no subject
At the mention of food, Marco scowled. "Oh man, don't talk to me about the food. At least you don't have taste-buds, dude."
no subject
"They won't even give me real meat. I have to just bury my head in the slop and do the best I can. It's gross."
no subject
Then he grinned slyly. "Well, you could always eat Stacy. I'm sure she won't miss a few of those mean couches of hers."
no subject
"I'm pretty sure I'd get slapped by the tentacles if I tried that, man. Just a hunch."
no subject
no subject
"Hey," she greeted, voice a lot softer than normal-- at least normal for other people-- as she came up to him. She didn't ask if he was doing okay: he'd talk as much as he wanted to.
no subject
"Hey," he replies, then goes quiet again, hurling another rock into the river with a grunt of exertion. His bare toes shift, dig into the bare soil.
"You okay? I. . ." He looked down, feeling ashamed.
"I just kinda hid out during that whole mess. Sorry."
no subject
"I'm fine," she says flatly, but then she shrugs nonchalantly. Even if her tone turned just a tiny bit more irritated.
"No big," she said. Sure, she'd have preferred he was fighting alongside her, but it's not like they'd had their powers. At least he was okay. She knew he'd normally done more, anyway. "It's not like robots have eyes for you to go for, so easily."
no subject
"This place just keeps getting better, doesn't it?"
no subject
no subject
"I just wish we know more about what was going on, you know?"
no subject
"Yeah, it kind of sucks to be in the dark about so much. But we still have to do it anyway, I guess."