#is a description of an alchemist’s atelier

[teecupangel]

The ink-stained parchment lay before me, bearing words of importance. It held a message that needed to reach distant shores, far beyond the reach of my current abode. The task was clear—I had to undertake a voyage, braving unknown lands and treacherous seas, to ensure the safe delivery of this precious missive.

With the letter safely tucked away in my bag, I embarked on a grand adventure. The road unfurled before me, winding through verdant landscapes and bustling towns. Each step carried me closer to my destination, yet the distance seemed vast, the expanse of the world unfathomable.

As I traveled, I marveled at the sights and sounds of foreign lands. The air was scented with unfamiliar fragrances, the language spoken by the locals a melodious symphony that danced upon my ears. The customs and traditions of these distant realms intrigued me, offering glimpses into lives so different from my own.

Days turned into nights, and nights into days, as my journey pressed on. I encountered fellow travelers along the way, their stories intertwining with mine for fleeting moments. We shared meals, exchanged laughter, and bid each other farewell, knowing that our paths diverged as swiftly as they had converged.

The physical distance between me and the intended recipient of the letter seemed inconsequential compared to the emotional chasm bridged by those written words. They held the power to convey sentiments that transcended borders and time, reaching into the depths of the reader's heart.

Through rugged terrain and unpredictable weather, my resolve remained unyielding. The letter, a testament to love, friendship, or perhaps a plea for forgiveness, grew heavier with each passing mile. Its contents were etched in my memory, their weight echoing in my thoughts.

Finally, after countless trials and tribulations, I arrived at the edge of the known world—the place where the letter would find its final purpose. The distant land, with its foreign customs and unknown faces, embraced me in its arms. The letter, once entrusted to me, was now ready to continue its journey, to convey its message to the one who shall receive it.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, I stood before the local post office—a humble abode where dreams and stories converged. I handed over the letter, its journey nearly complete. The postmaster, with a kind smile, assured me of its safe passage, knowing the significance it held for both sender and recipient.

As I departed from that distant land, a sense of fulfillment washed over me. Though the journey had been arduous, it had been imbued with purpose and meaning. The letter, a vessel of emotions and words, had been delivered to its intended destination, bridging the distance between hearts separated by miles and oceans.

The receiver by the name of Teecupangel opened the mail and pulled out the letter, inside it says "HayDes where they are both birds"

(I have no regrets)

After a brief confusing mistaken identity incident compounded by the sudden traveling and moving weak bones unused to such travels nowadays had to endure, the alchemist known by many names has finally gotten used to the new atelier. A large cauldron with liquid swirling in colors of golden sands and azure time ready to be filled with many alchemic materials sits over a fire on the right end of the main room. Next to it is a small chalkboard that has been written on and erased so many times it has forever been whitened by the residue of the previous words clinging to it now written with a new list of the materials that must be added to the cauldron before the end of the week so that the alchemist might be able to peddle next week’s wares to the archives.

On the table near the cauldron lies two synthesized items of a kind of glass bomb, its clear glass surface showing the swirling golden flames made of high-quality gunpowder, inspired by a recipe from a group of professional alchemists only known as IW. One of the bombs seemed to have been placed in an apparatus of some kind, an alchemic tool used to rebuild already created synthesized items so they may be checked and materials may be added or changed if necessary.

A final step needed to ensure the quality of each synthesized item before they are peddled to the archives.

By the back of the main room, next to the large chest filled with materials picked or ordered by the alchemist were seven or eight cauldrons of varying sizes all stacked on top of each other, each bearing a little post-it with different numbers that seemed to be ‘0808’, ‘0812’, ‘0816’, ‘0826’ or ‘0828’. One of these cauldrons seemed to have the phrase ‘?w b 1012’.

On the left wall of the main room of this atelier, there appeared to be smaller cauldrons all lined up with a smaller fire already crackling over a small cauldron. There was the shining sounds that alerted the alchemist that it was done and the liquid inside the cauldron turned into a puff of multicolored smoke. All that was left inside was some kind stuffed teddy bear that seemed to have come from the nightmares of children. The alchemist grabbed the cauldron and hauled it off next to a box filled with small items that had been requested before and will be delivered today. The alchemist took the teddy bear and inspected it to make sure it was of good quality before placing it on the box. The alchemist walked back to the line of smaller cauldrons and took the closest to the fire before grabbing the next one and dragging it closer. The alchemist took the letter that they have placed inside when they had prepared the cauldron and placed the cauldron into the fire. As the cauldron heats, liquid of endless possibility slowly fill the cauldron while the alchemist opens the letter. The alchemist’s lips curved into a smile as they read the journey that this letter had gone thru all in the hopes that the writer’s request would be given even just a small item.

Then…

“HayDes where they are both birds.”

And the alchemist shuffled to the chest of materials to look for bird feathers and taco shells…

(And you shouldn’t regret anything about this ask. The whole introductory part made me smile and really made me wonder what you plan to ask XD)

You’re free to think of what kind of bird they would be although I was thinking of a House Finch when I was writing this, the ones with the red plumage since red is both a part of Haytham’s color and the color of the Assassins that Desmond has in his main outfit.

Haytham used to be owned by one Reginald Birch who had to let him go because he was acquired illegally and, well, Reginald Birch was in trouble with the government for other more serious crimes that he can’t afford a ‘loose end’.

Haytham was just minding his own business, trying to get used to the sudden freedom he had received, flying out of the way of larger birds of prey that he would sometimes see flying above him when he happen to hear singing. He flies to that direction, making sure to stay in the cover of branches and anything that would hide him from any predators above him and managed to perch on a branch that overlooks a small home with a well-maintained lawn with a bird feeder at the center, surrounded by bushes that held delicious looking berries.

The singing was coming from the bird feeder where a lone bird of the same species as him seem to simply be lazing around, hopping from the bottom part of the feeder to the top, sometimes even dipping a wing into the drinking water for a bit.

Almost as if mesmerized by the song, Haytham raised his wings to take flight and go to the bird feeder but then he heard a loud cry of a bird of prey that sounded quite larger than him.

He raised his head…

And three large eagles stare down at him as if warning him to not do anything foolish.

Unorganized Notes

Desmond is unofficially the pet bird of the house with the bird feeder. Every morning, a man with glasses and a noticeable British accent would do maintenance of the lawn and even pick up some berries to place on the bird feeder for Desmond to snack on. Whenever Desmond chirps his gratitude to him, he just goes, “Yes, yes, of course you’re happy, you bloody freeloader.”

The three eagles are the ones keeping the other birds from going to the bird feeder. Haytham has no idea what they’re deal is and they have no plans to explain anything to Haytham but Desmond seemed to know them, even calling them by their names. They’re all different kinds of eagles.

Haytham gets a crow friend named Shay who tells him the tea. Apparently, Desmond was also thrown away like Haytham although Shay don’t know the reason for that one. Anyway, Desmond befriended the eagles during his time looking for a place to live and they just… sorta stayed together? Anyway, the owner of the bird feeder only knows about Desmond and the three eagles usually hunt nearby and stuff.

Haytham thinks the entire thing is stupid and, really, don’t the damn eagles think that maybe Desmond would like some company?

“Of course, just not you.”

This does end with Haytham getting Shay to make noises that wil distract the eagles (Shay decided that getting chased by that asshole dog Gaultier would be a good distraction enough and started screaming for help once he was nearby all the while goading Gaultier just to be a jerk).

Haytham manages to dive into the bird feeder but one of the eagles realized it and let out a loud cry to alert the others so Haytham ignored precision and grace for speed.

And ended up diving straight to the water fountain.

From there, the eagles are powerless as Desmond and Haytham start to grow closer because, now that Desmond has seen and talked to Haytham, they can’t ‘make him go away’ (“You’re going to eat him?!” “Shoo him away.” “But eating was never off the table.”) because that would make Desmond sad.

They usually just talk while sharing the bird feeder as they learned about each other and Haytham totally ignored the glaring he could see behind Desmond.

Once they started getting close, they began to groom each other.

Haytham usually hides in the bushes and flies from one bush to another whenever the owner would come out. Desmond tells him that this ‘Shaun’ would be happy to find another bird using this large bird feeder but Haytham isn’t gonna risk it since the man always sounds so annoyed when he’s doing the daily lawn maintenance.

When they’re finally together, they began to sing at the top of the bird feeder and Haytham stays even after the man has come out. The man stares at Haytham for a few seconds before turning to look at the forest where the eagles have (disgruntedly) approved of Haytham and Desmond’s relationship, “You three finally decided that Desmond can have a partner?” There was three sets of grumbling bird sounds and the man nods as he said, “Yeah, I guess not.” (From inside the house, they hear a female voice shout, “Shaun! Stop pretending you can understand birds!”)

Sidebar: I was thinking of this kind of feeder: