February Open Prompts/Catch-all

[pummelgranite]

WHO: Persephone vs everyone
WHERE: various cities
WHEN: through February
WHAT: A few prompts, please poke me if you want something else
WARNINGS: discussion of violence/depression/disordered eating likely as always

A. Nona- A Strange Performance in a Tiny Jazz Club

[ It's not her typical venue, not by a long shot. It's a small space, with a simple stage. She even lets them use their own lights instead of miracling up herself something more impressive. There's no dance floor, and they hardly advertised for her at all. It's more a jazz club than anything else, too small for her sound, really. But that's alright. She's not here to perform her normal mass.

She isn't in high heels, or armor, or war paint. Rather, she comes out in a simple black dress and veil, ornamented with white flowers. What she sings is no persistent climax. The rage and defiance and violence usually typical of her songs is missing as well. Instead, it's something bittersweet and heart-wrenching. It's like an intimate aria sung in that same untranslatable language, but the message is clear: winter will always fade, spring will always come, but there are still so many things lost that can never return. Just because spring is coming, does not mean you will live to see it.

The piano and cello duet that follow her aren't bad either. After her performance, it might seem like anyone else would pale in comparison, but if anything the opposite is true- they, too, sound breathtakingly beautiful in the space that she's blessed. The goddess herself makes her way to the bar. Her normal companions seem absent, and most of the patrons don't dare to make eye contact, let alone approach. Do you? ]


B. The Hotel Castille lounge/lobby, evening

[ Persephone WAS at the bar. But now she's in the beautiful, glittering lobby. She is sprawled in a chair that looks like it cost several normal human's paychecks, in a way quite disrespectful to the quality of the upholstery. Her feet dangle over the back, and her head hangs towards the floor. There's a soft cloud of colorful hair beneath her. In her hands is a notebook, and in her mouth is a pen. Every once in a while she takes the pen out of her mouth to jot something into the notebook, but mostly she's just chewing on the pen.


C. Maurtia Falls Art Museum, reasonable business hours

[ If one were to happen into the museum that day, it would be hard not to miss her. She parks herself on a bench in front of a particular piece of art, and doesn't move for over an hour.

The art in question is probably no surprise- it's a Renaissance work by a not-so-terribly-famous artist, depicting Orpheus playing for Hades and his queen. There are headphones in her ears, and the only sign she gives that she's not a statue herself is pulling out her phone every so often to change her music. ]


D. South Maurtia Historic Cemetery - literally any time you'd like, day or night

[ What the fuck is she doing now? Is she sleeping on a grave? It's a single grave in a family plot, but the headstones are all so old that the names have long since faded. So... yeah. Sleeping on someone's grave. Cool, cool, cool, cool, normal. ]

Comments

[dendarii]

[ The little kestrel jolts in surprise as the crows suddenly take off. And then he turns to see what exactly scared them off - only to lock eyes with Persephone. Shit. What the hell is she doing here? Does she recognize him? For once in his life, he doesn't actually want a fight.

He fluffs up his feathers a bit and eyes her warily. Are there any more vines forthcoming? Or ... did she actually help him just now? ]

1/2

[pummelgranite]

[ She smiles, just slightly. Amused by the antics of the crows, or proud that she's helped the little bird? It's hard to say. Either way, she's looking at him without anything like recognition. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ But that smile lasts for only a few moments until it fades from her eyes. The look that's left behind is something dull and tired and empty. It's certainly not a look she'd ever show if she knew who that bird was. ]

[dendarii]

[ It's certainly not a look Miles has ever seen on her - but it's an expression he knows all the same. He sees it every time he looks in the mirror, now that Gregor is gone ...

It's enough to make him go still. Feathers defluffing, hackles settling. He glances down at the prize he'd been fighting with the crows over: a brightly colored cellophane package with some abhorrently sweet snack cake inside. Before he can change his mind, he flutters closer to her, dropping the package with a faint splat. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ She looks at the snack like her just deposited a turd next to her. ]

Nuh uh, don't you start. Shoo.

[dendarii]

[ Well fine then. That's what he gets for being friendly. With a little flap of his wings, Miles cuts through the wrapper with his talons. And starts tearing apart the poor little snack cake inside. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ As long as it doesn't want her to eat. She just sort of sighs and settles back down, seeming content-ish just to watch it go after the obviously-terrible-for-birds snack. ]

[dendarii]

[ Terrible for birds, but rather better for his human stomach when he eventually turns back. And Miles doesn't really like eating animals while he's a kestrel anyway. He does, however, take visceral pleasure in disemboweling the hell out of this creamy filling.

When the carnage is done, there's still a dollop of cream on his beak. Which he wipes at awkwardly with his wing. All while continuing to watch Persephone warily, like she's going to change her mind and hurt him or something. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ Unfortunately, she has no idea how to read kestrel body language to recognize how human that wipe was. She offers him a hand, not knowing why. ]

Weird bird.

[dendarii]

[ Miles eyes the hand like it might bite him. But she'd looked so much like he's still feeling. And she doesn't recognize him...

He flaps to her hand, being exceedingly careful not to so much as prick her with his talons. And fluffs up a bit in an avian sort of sigh. Of course he's a weird bird. What did you expect? ]

[pummelgranite]

[ She moves almost impossibly slow and careful, like shes habdling something made or spun glass. If the bird doesn't move, she'll softly stroke his breast feathers. ]

[dendarii]

[ She can likely feel his tiny heart fluttering under her fingertips. When she doesn't reach out to wring his neck or otherwise harm him, it slows slightly. The petting is... kind of nice? It is nice. If it weren't Persephone it'd be downright relaxing.

He lets his eyes close after a moment. And a soft little trill of contentment escapes him. Stupid bird brain really enjoys having its feathers scritched. He's completely soft and downy, more like a songbird than a falcon. ]

[pummelgranite]

[ Its a strange and bittersweet sort of satisfaction, feeling the bird's heart settle. She's soother it, sure, but only because such a simple creature surely can't understand what a cruel and dangerous being it's approached.

But it's nice, its calming for her as well, so she continues the sketches. ]

Not very smart either, are you?

[dendarii]

[ A faint little huff from the bird. And before he can think to stop himself, he says: ]

Smarter than any other bird you're going to meet.

[ But apparently not smart enough to keep his mouth shut. His voice is, at least, very difficult to recognize as Miles'. Thinner, reedier, with most of his Barrayaran accent muted by the chirrupy undertones to his voice. ]

[pummelgranite]

Wh-


[ She startles back, snatching her hand away. Then the accusation comes, scandalized: ]


You're a fucking imPort!?

[dendarii]

[ Shit. He doesn't so much flutter to the ground as collide bodily with it. ]

N-no! No, I'm not.

[ That was an even stupider thing to say, probably. But everyone else he'd pulled this with had assumed he was just a talking bird. ]

[pummelgranite]

Uh yeah, you are.

[dendarii]

[ He scrabbles back up onto his talons, wings still fluttering wildly. ]

I'm a pet. He made me this way, don't blame me.

[pummelgranite]

[ She snorts. ]

Bull. Shit. Who did?

[dendarii]

[ Someone here. Someone he can instantly corroborate a lie with. Someone that won't give away his identity -- ]

Gregor. Gregor did.

[ Nailed it. ]

[pummelgranite]

. . . I have no idea who that is, but that thing obviously has a brain the size of a pea.

[dendarii]

[ Close enough. He's suddenly quite glad that Gregor and Persephone never met. ]

Don't ask me how. I don't remember what it's like to be a normal bird. Just him staring at me.

[pummelgranite]

Nuh uh. Nope. Just admit you're a creepy imPort who likes creeping on people.

[dendarii]

[ Nope. If he admits that, he's dead. Super dead. ]

Creeping on what, exactly. I was trying to eat breakfast.

[pummelgranite]

You know what I mean! Doing your cute, helpless little bird routine! I can't believe I skritched your feathers.