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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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.

Erik raises his brow and gives a firm nod, grateful that there will be someone who knows how to break this strange spell. "Then I will have to be grateful for her when she does so," is what he says, his perusal of Charles' form turning curious as he stretches his arm out to allow Charles to hop to the bar, if he so chooses.

Charles can feel a little of the curiosity and turns his head to look at Erik.

Would you like me to move?

"I think you'll be better suited on the bar. And you're pinching me," he lies, given that he's well-equipped to let Charles stay close to him, but he doesn't truly feel like that. "It's better," he says, more of a demand, than a suggestion, now.

He tilts his head to hold Erik's gaze before fluffing his feathers and hopping, flying over to the counter.

I wouldn't wish to cause you any pain.

"There, all better," Erik says, rubbing his fingers over the spots on his wrist in which Charles' new claws have been digging into. "Have you been exploring yet? With your new form, I think that would be the first thing I would do."

Yes, I have. Flying is wonderful, though its odd to have the desire to hunt. Bar, could Erik have some aloe for his wrist?

Since all the thoughts are in his mind, they both come through and a little pot of soothing lotion appears on the counter.

Erik gives a thoughtful noise, caught in the back of his throat. He thinks, but does not say that it's a shame that Charles isn't his normal self to aid with the application, but he's sure Charles caught that. "Humans can have the desire to hunt, as well."

He did and agrees, but sadly his beak is sharp too. Though he does try moving his feathers over Erik's skin.

Oh yes, you hunt for revenge, I hunt for knowledge, together we hunt for those like us.

Erik watches what Charles is doing with his feathers, says nothing, but finds it interesting all the same. "What on earth are you doing?" he murmurs, trying not to let it affect him too terribly, but it's interesting all the same.

Trying to be of some help. I don't have fingers, but hopefully my feathers are soft.

There's some nervousness in his voice, he's trying to be helpful and not think about touch or anything like that.

"You're touching me with your feathers in an attempt to comfort me?" Erik asks warily, given that he's not entirely sure that this is what he's doing, given that it seems mad -- though, in Milliways, everything seems mad because Charles is an owl and rats bring him aloe.

(OOC: There also is a de-owled EP up more recently. <33s these two.)

Charles stops as comfort isn't the word he would have thought of that particular word.

Just soothe where my claws pinched.