milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Since that strange night, Charles has been an owl. He hasn't seen anyone he knows and has been enjoying flying around outside but he wants to get back to himself. This is awkward and his feathers require a lot of work.

Today he is perched on the back of a chair with a newspaper laid out on the table and a small bowl of nuts. He refuses to eat a mouse or bird even if some of them do look tasty.

Tiny tag: Palamedes
(OOC: Open all weekend. Charles will be speaking telepathically into your pup's head if he decides to talk to them. If they have mental shields, let me know, as he's sort of listening, just not as much as usual. Being an owl is distracting. Also ignore the rather large timestamp from one thread to the other, its been my first week of work. Thank you.)

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Charles can feel Erik's mind and his feathers fluff up, this is going to be awkward. Though Erik is avoiding him, so maybe he won't have to explain, he doesn't really have a good explanation other than Milliways.

The bird is beginning to expand. Erik finds his back tensing up at that fact, but he says nothing. It is hard to take his eyes off of the thing, however, and he finds himself staring at the owl with a great deal of curiosity mixed in with his wariness.

Charles does his best to smooth down his feathers, he will focus on those details of making himself neat, not Erik's gaze.

After ten minutes and a drink, Erik turns to find that the bird is still there and bears an odd sort of pattern to its feathers. He's not entirely sure, but he wants to believe there's a sort of familiarity there. Odd, but he can't put his finger on it.

Since Erik is still there, Charles turns his head slowly, he does like getting a full view and gives a questioning look.

The owl is staring at him.

Erik feels slightly discomfited and regards the bird back with a curious look, half-challenging, and he can't help himself -- there's a part of him that wants to know why on earth this is happening to him, of all things.

At Erik's thought, Charles gives a little hooting sound and thinks at Erik.
Because Milliways is a strange place. I'm sorry for disconcerting you.

His mental voice is apologetic, he was hoping that Erik wouldn't see him this way. Mainly because he's embarrassed but its also odd.

"Charles?" Erik stammers, aloud, the shock too great for him to truly practice discretion. He scoffs, staring at the bird, and moves closer to it, gaping at him in sheer disbelief. "I don't...what...?"

His feathers fluff up with nervousness. Milliways is unexpected, there was some magic involved.

Yes, I'd hope so, otherwise you're secretly an owl for part of your life, Erik thinks with no small amount of sarcasm. He cocks his head to the side and holds out his fingers. Come here.

Put out your wrist.

He lifts up a claw, he would rather not take off any of Erik's fingers.

Erik does as he's instructed, though now he's beginning to worry about what sort of damage that Charles' claws might do to him. Still, it's best to trust. Wrist out, he waits, expectantly.

Flying has becoming easier, but its rather more of a fly and a hop before he arrives on Erik's wrist.

He's gentle with his claws to keep them from hurting. I hope I'm not too heavy.

"You're an owl, Charles, you're hardly any weight at all," is Erik's dubious retort, shooting him a sharp look of disbelief. "I wonder if there's any metal composition to your claws," he muses, mostly to himself.

Can you tell? His sense of scale is off in this shape.

Erik focuses, but he's never had to work with the elements of a bird before. "Only the remnants of other metallic objects, I'd think," he admits, but it could be the bar surrounding him that's throwing off his sense of perception. "How will you get back?"

I don't know, but I'll think of something.

He does like this and adjusts how he's sitting on Erik's wrist. Iris can probably help but he's not going to mention her now.

"Not that you aren't precious in this form," Erik notes with a smug smirk on his face, ruffling Charles' feathers (quite literally) as he has the opportunity to do so.

Precious? I don't think I've been called that since I was a boy.

There's a bit of exasperation in his voice but the ruffling is nice and he shifts so Erik gets the right spot.

"Well, I won't mince words when precious is the best one that fits," he notes, arching a brow when Charles positions his owl's body into something that seems to give him a small degree of pleasure. "Enjoying this, are you?" he asks, faintly amused.

Yes, it's odd but nice.

This is a type of closeness they haven't had before and while the situation is bizarre, that doesn't mean he won't enjoy what he can.

"Nice," Erik notes with a bemused smile, shaking his head as he gives Charles one more slow scratch, deliberately trying to (pardon his pun) ruffle his feathers.

Mm, yes, or pleasant if you'd prefer that to match my apparent preciousness. Little to the left.

He does scratch to the left, but his fingers lighten their touch. After all, he must remember that this is Charles and this is possibly inappropriate and too much. "How long do you expect it will take before you're yourself again?"

I hope not long. I think Iris should be able to help as it seems to be a Greek spell.

As the touch becomes less, Charles preens at his feathers, if he were human he'd be avoiding Erik's gaze. He does want to be back, but would rather not talk about Iris at the moment.