lifeaftr | [open] if you're the bird, whenever we pretend it's summer

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[open] if you're the bird, whenever we pretend it's summer

Who: Kravitz and you!
What: Ren has so graciously gifted Kravitz a new pet, and he is very, very excited about it.
When: Backdated to January 15th
Where: Starting at Elf Camp and then around Enso's shoreline
Warnings: Should be good!

i. [closed to ren, elf camp] you and i left our troubles far behind

[The thing about this plan is that Kravitz was not informed it was even a plan.

When Ren so innocently asked him about birds he liked over a month ago at the petting zoo, Kravitz had truly thought nothing of it. He's spoken about ravens before, and Ren ends up intent on the strangest things- it would be a lot to keep track of if he tried to record everything she's ever done. So the morning it Happens, he's peacefully sleeping away in the main tent of elf camp, none the wiser for what's about to go down.

Good luck, Ren. Or really, good luck Kravitz, in holding his own shit together.]

ii. [open, enso's shores] but i still have just one more question on my mind

[He had no idea this was even going to work, but now that it has, Kravitz is intent on testing the new bird out. He can be found along the shoreline of Enso, a large black bird on his shoulder that Kravitz seems to be talking to. It, on the other hand, is looking very intently at his closed fist at his chest.]

Okay, Lieutenant Pepper, we're going to go over this again. I'm going to throw this, and you're going to bring it back, and if you do-- without swallowing it-- you can have a treat. Okay? Good.

[The arm that has the bird on it produces a rock, which he tosses underhand away from him.]

Go on! Get it, bring it back--

[Yes. He's teaching a bird to play fetch. This is exactly what's happening here.]

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[He tilts his head when Tim speaks, the bird hopping off his shoulder and sort of twittering around his feet. Kravitz looks down like one would look at a misbehaving cat.]

I told you, no more treats until you get the rock, you're learning.

[He looks up again to address Tim, a little happier than he's been in recent months.]

Yes, I... mentioned to Ren I was missing my ravens from back home, and it seems she took it upon herself. This is Lieutenant Pepper.

[Said Lieutenant Pepper is doing little hops around the beach, pecking in the ground for clams. Kravitz looks so proud.]

[The guy likes ravens. It would be easier to kind of resent him, if he didn't have a proven soft spot for the birds, but...well, guess that'll have to be one thing that Tim can't reasonably hold against him. What a shame.]

She does that. Gives things to people.

[It's about all she seems to do, at times.]

How's learning going?

[Who can hold a love of birds against anyone. They're birds and they're absolutely wonderful. Sorry, Tim, but even guys who are jerks have redeeming qualities, like their affections for large, screaming avians.]

Yes, I've... tried to give her gifts in the past, which I think spurs her on to just give me things harder.

[But Tim asks that and he kind of gazes down at Pepper, who is still trying to drag things out of the sand. She looks up at them and screams once.]

It's going, all right. She's receptive, but it's certainly difficult training one from the ground up. Back at home I didn't have to worry about teaching my ravens their tricks. But I suppose I have time now.

They're smart birds.

[He has a fondness for them, crows. Maybe it's the fact that they're generally regarded as bad omens, as scavengers, as heralds for death and the like, and Tim can't help but relate on some level. Maybe it's that they're easily one of the smartest creatures nature has to offer.]

[Or maybe they just represent that which he could never have, while stuck in a hospital room - back when he was allowed one with a window - and fantasizing about having a sort of freedom that he would never be allowed.]

They understand the reward system, anyway.

[Considering Kravitz is typically the bad omen, he fits right in with the lot of them. Sometimes it's nice, to revel in that association. To have a place, albiet a morbid one.]

Yes, they do. As long as you have something they want, and they can't find a faster way to get it from you. This one--

[He gives a pointed glance to the raven, who proceeds to hop over to him and look at his still closed fist.]

Has caught on very quickly as to where I keep her treats. But she's learning. I haven't had her here very long.

[He'd say - hey, guess you took his advice. But he's pretty sure that he doesn't deserve even vague credit for that, particularly when Ren was the one to ask for the damn bird in the first place.]

You gonna train her to run messages for you, or something?

[Not sure what you'd train a raven to do, but hey. What's he know.]

[He doesn't, frankly. He was thinking about something else to occupy his time, but this is as good as any for now, so.]

I was, actually. We have plenty of opportunities where long distance communication is limited, and I was hoping she could be of some use.

[Back home, he used his ravens for scouting- he could see through their eyes, get the lay of the land. That... isn't quite going to happen here, but that doesn't mean she can't help.]

They mimic human speech quite well, as well. Not enough to deliver a message, I think, but enough to be a possible distraction in combat.

[In case, what? The Stones don't work? But if the mana pools can stop working spontaneously, presumably the Stones can too, so he doesn't push the point.]

Oh, so you're training her to be cannon fodder. [He's pretty sure that's not the intent here, but he can't resist the jab.] Well, careful with that. I'm not sure what happens to pets when they die here.

[As someone from the world the Stones came from, he knows their limitations well. But he actually looks mildly horrified at the implication she might die, which is ironic for a billion reasons.]

Wh-- no, no I don't want that. She's smart. I won't let her get hurt.

[Krav.]

Back home I could uhm, see through their eyes as well. I'm hoping when she has more training I can ask the Storyteller for that ability back, perhaps. She can scout new islands, perhaps. Make sure we do not walk into traps.

You really think they could help with that?

[He's not really sure about the Storyteller's...limitations. He doesn't have anything that needs requesting back, just objects that might help. He's always been a pretty ordinary person, in terms of what he can do.]

[It's what he is that's the problem.]

I would think there's no harm in asking. I can already speak telepathically, it's just a matter of her understanding my language or my ability to speak hers. It can all be done with magic, certainly, but it's a case of if that magic is permissible.

[He could probably have broken that down better for someone who doesn't know magic, but to him it all feels quite simple. He's less worried about the Storyteller's ability- they're a god, and therefore able to do much. It's the land he figures they're fighting.]

You can speak telepathically.

[This shouldn't have been a surprise. It's not a surprise, really; it's just an unpleasant jolt in the pit of his stomach that curls up like a dead spider's legs, that little knee-jerk reminder, the quiet little deflated: oh.]

[Credit where credit's due, but Tim doesn't react the way he would have just over a year ago. He breathes in, exhales, and looks at Kravitz directly.]

To birds, or to everyone?

Oh, anyone.

[And for a split second he goes to just do it, before he recalls the single lesson he's learned in nearly a year of being in this place, which is "not everyone likes it when you just do shit". If Tim is aware of presences in his mind- which, let's be real, of course he is- he may have felt something for just a quick second before Kravitz speaks again.]

Uhm, do you want me to demonstrate? I mean, not on the bird, it's-- I could, but they have to speak somehow. I don't think bird counts as a language.

No.

[The word is harder than he means it to be, sets his teeth on edge. It pinches his hands into fists and he makes a concentrated effort to relax them, cram them into his pockets instead so that he doesn't have to focus on the subtle tremor that lives beneath his skin.]

You're not psychic. Right?

[Hey look, he got one singular thing right. Good job Kravitz. Though at the assumption, he waves his hand in dismissal.]

Oh-- no, no. I can only send messages back and forth, if it's initiated. I don't read minds just out of the blue.

[Though there is magic that can do that, it seems like a bad idea to say those words to Tim right now.]

If it's initiated? So you're...one-way telepathic, or...?

[He can't read minds, which is the important thing. Which is the real takeaway here. Thank god for that, because that would have been a hell of a thing to just drop on Tim's shoulders unfuckingannounced.]

No, it's-- it's more like-- hang on.

[He takes his free hand and roots around in his pockets for a second before pulling out his Stone of Farspeech.]

Imagine you could only receive calls, not make them. I could call you, with this power, but I would not be able to hear what you were saying before I called. And once I hang up or get out of range, I also cannot hear. Does that make sense? If I open it, start something, I can hear you respond to me until it is closed. Then when it is closed, I would have to open again.

[Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, Kravitz phone.]

[It's a solid enough explanation, considering they're talking about telepathic communication here. Tim's brow furrows ever deeper the longer Kravitz goes on for.]

[He seems like he's going to say something else, but instead he just - ]

Is that just something you get when you become a Death Cop?

[He's waiting maybe a little too eagerly to see if Tim understands, so the line lands perfectly and his face falls flat at the delivery, straightening his back and putting his stone away with a sigh. Of course. This is what he gets for being enthusiastic about anything at all and gaining a reputation for it. God forbid it be something he likes.]

Yes, it is, actually. This is part of the repertoire of abilities I was granted when I was deputized in service to the Raven Queen. It aids me in my work. Souls don't exactly have mouths, you know, it would be awfully hard to communicate with them if I couldn't reach out in some way.

So you're not really communicating with minds. It's with souls.

[The thought seems to needle at him, or digs underneath his skin in some way. It's the notion of souls in general that took some adjusting to from the beginning, and now that he knows he has one tucked away inside him, glistening scarlet, it burns a cold ash-stain in the pit of him.]

[Another reminder of the adjacencies between worlds, and the places where they intersect.]

[It's not always a pleasant feeling.]

I suppose. They tend to be one in the same when a being is alive.

[It's more difficult to draw things apart from each other, but souls vacate when their extremities die. It's a survival thing, just not in the way mortals imagine it to be.]

But no, I'm not pulling things out of your brain for fun. I'm not evil, regardless of the implications of death on the populace.

I had to check.

[He doesn't explain why. It's as short as anything he says when he doesn't feel up to explaining; he had to check, and that's the end of it. It's not just that there's shit in his head he'd rather not be public - invasions of privacy are standard, for him. It's that he doesn't want It infecting anyone else.]

[(Too late for that, of course.)]

I never said you were.

[He just shrugs, at last not seeming bothered by it.]

I tend to assume people think the worst in me. Or at least, of Death. Most people don't have such favorable opinions.

[They project, he thinks, as if a natural process could be good or evil. It's just a matter of balance, what keeps mortals mortals and gods gods. He'd reason it that everyone wants to live, but he's been proven continuously wrong around here.]

You sound like you'll probably know if I'm around, anyway.

[The irony: Tim's views on death are less than charitable not because of a fear of the concept, but because death apparently won't do its damn job where he's concerned.]

Probably not. Just...don't go using it with me unless you have to.

[Disembodied voices in his head make him cagey, even if he doesn't see or hear things that aren't there so much these days. Not unless he's in a bad way.]

[Which does tend to happen.]

[Yeah, that's only a foreign concept to him because he does his damn job. Lots of other worlds' Reapers need a talking to, in his opinion. A long one. Using his hands.]

Right. Only in case of emergencies.

[Which can happen a lot around here, but-- one can hope they won't.]

Well, uhm. I hope you enjoyed meeting Pepper anyway.

[Said Lieutenant is still hopping about in the sand, cheerfully oblivious to any trauma.]

[open] if you're the bird, whenever we pretend it's summer

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