#who do you think wifies thinks has one of parrot's big feathers it feels pretty obvious

[bluejackals]

post-chunkban pt2

continuation of this. word count 1202

notes: I think the european cathedrals inspired images and plagues in myhead

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But where would that leave him? Alone on this cold cliff, purposeless again, without even the lump of hope sitting in his throat that Parrot meant it when he said he wanted Wifies as his best friend. Yes, Wifies might have Ken, and Ken is warm and wonderful and loyal down to the bone, but this is someone who doesn’t know what he is who says he wants him. This is Parrot, whose eyes are the sun, and Wifies can’t give that up. 

The strength—and perhaps also shame—of that revelation sinks him to his knees, right there on the rock. He looks up at Parrot, who is so bright it hurts Wifies’s eyes. 

For whatever reason, Wifies’s tear ducts have never been removed. Maybe it made the escape rooms feel more real to the viewers, if his eyes could water and he could cry. 

So he cries now—unwillingly, shamefully, truthfully. The tears scorch his face before being torn away by the wind. No, he’ll never be able to give the sun up. 

“I can’t,” he says. A confession to the figure staring down at him in all his shame. “I can’t.” 

Can’t tell him, can’t kill him. Would he be doing this if he knew?

“You have time.” The words sink into his veins. He shivers. Time, time, time. It feels like he’s always running out of it. 

He can’t be truthful with Parrot, but he can do this—make his way to him. Even if he has to crawl on his knees.

He manages to stand a few feet away from Parrot, ignoring any residual aches from the stone. It feels like layers of him slough off with the grit of the rocks as he does. Parrot’s eyes follow him the whole way.

Wifies takes the feather. 

It’s like flipping a lever. Parrot’s wings relax and he lets out a colossal breath and the morning light hits Wifies in thick, gauzy beams. Wifies has to blink a few more times, both to adjust his eyes and to clear away any residual from the crying. It helps to clear his head too. 

“Hey,” Parrot says. 

“Hey.” Thankfully, Wifies’s voice doesn’t crack. 

Parrot rolls his shoulders. “So. Um. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t know that much about any of this. I don’t—I guess if you don’t mind explaining what that was?” Wifies is very curious. This is knowledge untouched by anything from his past; this is knowledge he can swallow whole. 

“Sure. Wanna sit?” 

When Wifies nods, Parrot rummages around in his inventory and pulls out two white carpets, setting them on the cliff and pinning them down with stray stones. Wifies takes the one further from the cliffsides. 

There’s a crunch as Parrot bites into an apple with a thoughtful expression on his face. He looks calmer—not forcibly calm like he’d been yesterday, not impassively calm like he’d been just now. Wifies realizes he also feels calmer. The churning in his stomach has reduced to lapping waves, barely present. 

“Mm. Okay. I—when I say I, I mean avians—shed feathers all the time. Those random feathers don’t really mean anything on their own.” 

To prove his point, Parrot rattles a wing. A lone piece of fluff falls out. “See? I obviously don’t moult all of them all at once, or else I’d look stupid and I wouldn’t be able to fly.” 

“Like an actual parrot,” Wifies observes. 

Parrot chuckles. “Yeah. But anyways, feathers that are freely given have significance. There’s a bunch of rituals with different meanings and stuff that are used when giving feathers. So ‘what just happened’ was one of those.”

“Which one?” The question tumbles out of Wifies’s mouth. He’s having fun learning this. Maybe too much fun. It feels like too much fun. “Sorry, I—”

“No, that’s a good question,” Parrot says. “You should get to know that.” He takes another bite out of his apple, throat bobbing when he swallows. “There’s not really a set name for it, I guess. I’ve been calling it the ‘Beginning’ ritual in my head. The feather given is one of the smaller ones because accepting it is accepting the beginning of something, whether that’s an alliance or a promise, and it’s done at dawn because that’s the beginning of a new day. It’s pretty self-explanatory. I’ve done it a few times.”

He tucks the finished apple core away. “I only use it for promises and relationships. There are other ways to make alliances that aren’t this serious.” A small smile. “I mean, you saw how dramatic that was, right? And I had to time it perfectly.” 

“But it was beautiful,” Wifies says. Beautiful and terrifying. 

“It’s meant to be, yeah,” Parrot murmurs. “But I’m glad you liked it.”

“I did. A lot.” He means it. Then his curiosity nudges him towards another question. “I feel like ‘Beginning’ implies a next part,” Wifies muses. “Are there related ones?”

“Yeah. There’s at least two more parts. The feathers given get bigger and bigger. People who get really serious will go up to a primary.” 

An unasked question materializes, hanging in the air between them. Will you? Will I?

Parrot’s headwings drift towards his face like free-floating curtains, then abruptly snap back. “I’ve…yeah. I’ve gone that far. I’d—I’d do it again.” He stares at Wifies. “If it felt right.”

Maybe that lightness Wifies felt after the ritual was the removal of Wifies’s ability to maintain a neutral resting face. He must’ve shown some kind of question in his expression. “That’s…thanks for the information.”

Wifies has a very, very good guess of just who has one of Parrot’s primaries. But it would be beyond rude to ask Parrot, so he thanks the heavens that he doesn’t have that loose of a tongue.

“Do you have any specific questions now?” Parrot asks. “Since you know some basic stuff.”

“Hmm. Actually, yeah. What’s the proper way to store this? Or wear it? I’ve seen people with earrings. Is that how it works?”

“It’s up to you,” Parrot says. “A lot of people just keep the first feather in a pocket somewhere on them so it travels with them through respawns. Turning the later feathers into jewelery is more common.” 

“I’ll stitch it into my jacket cuff, if that’s okay?” 

Parrot blinks, then smiles. “Yeah, that works. That’s a pretty innovative way of doing it too. Remember, it’s first and foremost supposed to be a gift to you, so you can do whatever.”

Right. The feather is Wifies’s. He doesn’t have that much to his name—a painful history, a prong of the trident he and Ken used in there, the clothes he wears. But now he has this as well. Something warm blooms in his chest. It’s his. Just like the trident fragment. And Ken might be happy to hear about it, because Ken always tells Wifies he should have more things. 

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, Parrot.”

Parrot nods. “Thank you too, Wifies.”

Wifies blinks. “For what?”

“Being you.” 

It’s so—Parrot. It’s a little corny and honey-sweet and Wifies’s stomach does what can best be described as a floppy somersault. Parrot didn’t say “thank you for being Wifies." It makes all the difference.  

[bechobbi]

Fortune favours the bold - SamDrake x Reader - (Chapter 6)

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For once, you took a day off "work" and enjoyed the sun and nature that surrounded the motel.

You needed to reflect. You would have liked to accept Sam's proposal immediately, but at the same time you didn't want to endanger anyone else except yourself.

You walked slowly on a dirt path in the small wood in front of the motel. It was a pretty remote place if it weren't for the 24-hour supermarket.

You would have liked to have a plan, you thought, but it wasn't like that at all and you didn't even know where to start. However, you had some information about your evil relatives, they had the money to do everything even make you disappear into thin air.

Part of you was hoping they had forgotten about you after all these years.

Was it really better to leave it to someone else like Sam said?

Small parrots caught your attention. Their feathers were bright green and their noises resounded in the air. They hopped pecking at the ground looking for food a few meters from you. They reminded you of your old house where, in the middle of the large flower garden, there was a fountain where in summer the birds went to cool off.

That memory convinced you even more to want to take everything back even at the cost of risking your life. Then you resumed your march and the parrots soared into the sky as you passed by.

 Meanwhile at the motel Sam was making some phone calls:

“Hey old man, how are you doing? ... Yes, yes, I guess so ... Listen, I have a job that might interest you ... It is an inheritance ... Yes ... But the client has yet to give me a certain answer ... As soon as I know something I'll let you know ... OK, ok ... See you soon. "

He threw the phone on the bed and left the room to get a breath of fresh air. It was not easy to find someone, his bad friendships became fewer with the story of the marriage, he had had to cut many bridges because he wanted to start over.

The man had not remained idle while you were out clearing your train of thoughts, he had investigated you and your family.

Your parents were two patrons, two wealthy people who helped less fortunate kids to study and emerge. They were philanthropists, but also the black sheep of their respective families.

Your relatives, on the other hand, were rich stingy bourgeois and bad-hearted, and certainly did not look favorably on the choices of your mother and father.

Sam had even found a couple of newspaper articles reporting the discovery of two corpses, your parents’, but no mention of you.

The bodies had been found following an anonymous phone call received by the police. Together with them documents attesting to debts and tax fraud were found, which for the lazy and corrupt policemen they represented the motive for the death of the two people.

For them, your father would have killed your mother, after which he would have hang himself. A cliché.

“A big mansion, two rich people found dead in a suspicious circumstance, money, different opinions, corrupt police, a 'daughter' ... Interesting” thought Sam.

The man discovered that your mother had had a daughter, but she disappeared into thin air years later. No other births. The date of birth and your age did not match, so he deduced that you probably must have been adopted. Except that there was no sheet to prove it.

Sam needed to know more about you. So he waited patiently for your return plunging back into the search for more.

 You came back from your walk, you were calmly walking to the room where you had spent the night. The sun was setting. You knocked on the door, but no one answered. You knocked again. Nothing. You decided to forget about manners and try to open the door. It was open.

"Who the hell is it that doesn't lock the door in such remote place like this ?!" you murmured to yourself.

Upon entering you noticed that the room had been rearranged, the bed had clean sheets and your dirty clothes, which you had left on the floor that morning, had been folded and placed on the desk under the window.

There was a scent of cleanliness and everything made you feel a sensation of warmth in your chest.

You entered on tiptoe almost for fear of ruining that order, you crouched on the ground to take off your boots. Once barefoot, you went to bed and sat down waiting for some sign of life, a noise, anything that would tell you where your roommate was.

Then suddenly the door of the bathroom opened making you jump, you saw clothes fly and land on the floor in front of the bed. You thought it best to emit a rattle to signal your presence and if it wasn't for that you would have found the naked figure of Sam in front of you.

The man promptly tied a towel around his waist and when he crossed the threshold of the bathroom he said:

" You're back!"

You were a bit stunned to see him shirtless and from the towel you could get an idea of ​​the man's virility. A shiver ran down your spine. He was a captivating type, there was no doubt.

“Y-yes, I'm back. I-I tried to knock ... "

"Oh yes? I didn't hear" he said, running his hands through his still damp hair "I was taking a shower”.  At the base of his neck, his hair rolled up into more accentuated curls than usual.

"Where have you been?" he asked you taking another towel and passing it over his chest.

It felt like the beginning of a porn movie.

"Ah-um, I took a walk in the woods in front ..." you looked away from him who was now smiling slyly.

"Do you like what you see?" he said.

You blushed and laughed "Idiot, stop it, you make me uncomfortable ..."

He laughed hard as he took clean clothes from a bag in the closet.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

Suddenly a detail struck you, the man's left side showed round scars.

"What are those?" you asked to distract yourself from your obscene thoughts.

"A little memory of Panama, you know I liked it so much that ... well ... I always carry it with me" he chuckled.

You felt the urge to touch those wounds, to understand if they were true or not. Your body moved by itself, you crawled over to Sam and reached out. Your index finger now was brushing those circles of brown and jagged skin. He didn't move, he stayed there giving you his side. You could perceive the diversity of the skin, however soft, and under it the muscles that characterized the figure of the man.

"Did it hurt?" you asked.

"Like hell" he answered in a low voice.

"How did you do?"

At your touch Sam let out a small muffled moan and said "...They shot me."

"... oh ..." you were captured by those jagged circles.

Then suddenly he moved away and said "Now you do understand why you shouldn’t play with weapons?"

"Sorry ..." you said realizing what you just did. You had just touched his weakest points. And he had let you do it.

He smiled putting on a clean white T-shirt, then with jeans and a pair of boxers in his right hand he went to the bathroom to get dressed.

He came out dressed, clean and fragrant.

"I thought we could go get something to eat" he proposed.

Your stomach felt more empty than ever, so you accepted.

 You were walking towards the supermarket, you with your hands in your coat pockets and him smoking.

"You are the first person who decides to help me" you said.

Puffs of white smoke left Sam's lips "Well, if you had told someone what happened to you, maybe they would have helped you."

You weren't convinced then he added  "Surely, if I hadn't found your backpack you wouldn't have told me anything, and you would have just run away like you always have."

He read your mind, so you bit your lip and smirking you said "How do you know this?

Sam looked at you from his height "I put and two together. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. I did these things too. "

"Then don't lecture me" you teased him.

"You're better than me, that's why I'm warning you" he concluded.

 Finally you arrived at the supermarket, crossing the threshold the bell placed at the top of the door rang, signaling the entrance of customers.

"What do you want to eat?" Sam asked.

You just had to put anything under your teeth, so you ordered the attendant behind the bread counter to prepare you some sandwiches to eat on the fly.

During the preparation of what would be your dinner, you took a tour of the supermarket shelves.

Earlier, at the motel, you noticed the now empty bottle of Scotch, so you thought about getting one of the same brand. You grabbed the bottle and went back to Sam.

“I saw that you finished it" you said.

The man gave you a quick glance, then looked into his pockets and counted the money he had left.

"I think we would need a trick to get it" he winked at you and added "See how it’s done!"

With the sandwiches ready and the bottle of liquor you went to the cash desk where the usual swooning and provocative blonde whom Sam already knew was waiting.

"Hi handsome" she said.

"Hi honey, how are you?" Sam answered placing the items on the counter.

She leaned forward as usual to show her breasts "Now that I see you I'm fine"

"I guessed so" the man said letting his eyes wander over her.

"Who is she?" said the blonde pointing at you with her head.

“She is my little sister! We haven't seen each other for a long time, so tonight we wanted to celebrate "

The blonde was loudly chewing a chewing-gum and she was winking at Sam so constantly that she was almost annoying.

"You know..." Sam continued using his mellowest voice "I don't have enough cash with me ... So I thought we could make a trade, honey ..."

She melted like chocolate in the sun.

"What time do you finish, beauty?" Sam said moving closer to her face.

"At 11 pm I finish my shift ..." she said out of breath.

“I'll wait for you outside, what do you think? Me and you... ?" he continued.

She nodded biting her lower lip.

And that was how Sam got the free bottle of Scotch.

On the way to the motel you suddenly turned to the man "Are you really going?"

"Who knows" he replied.

You scrutinized it carefully and after a few minutes of silence you continued "I don't think you will go there"

"And how do you know?" he retorted.

"it's a feeling. You just wanted the bottle of Scotch, you don't give a damn about her "

"Atta girl, I see that we understand each other on the fly. You are impressive ... Furthermore she had floppy tits" he added.

It made you both laugh.

The evening passed quietly between Sam’s stories, time flew. It was a long time since you had such a good time, not to mention the fact that his stories were exciting.

Both of you were bit high from the alcohol and he seemed happier than when you first saw him.

"So?" you said interrupting the speech.

"So what?"

"...Will you help me?" you told him.

"I was waiting for you to ask me... I think so" he replied, lighting a cigarette.

You got up from the bed where you were sitting, you staggered towards him and, while Sam controlled your movements without understanding what you wanted to do, you approached his face. You gave him an intense look that left him breathless, whispered a "Thank you" and stole the cigarette from his hands.

He didn't resist nor react. He stood there motionless contemplating you. After a moment he recovered and laughed out loud "Hey that was mine!" he yelled.

Night fell, Sam slept on the floor to let you sleep in the bed.

 The next day you found breakfast again and Sam was waiting for you to wake up sitting next to you on the bed, his back against the wall.

"Hey ..." he said "it's time to get up ..." he moved the locks of hair in front of your closed eyes.

Slowly you became aware "G-Good morning ..."

"Come on sleepyhead, there's coffee ... and... we have an appointment ..."

You sat down too, while Sam handed you the cup of hot coffee.

"Thank you..."

He smiled at you soflty.

Sipping the drink you asked him for more information about the appointment he had just mentioned.

"What do we have to do?"

"We have to meet a person the will help us."

You were surprised. Now you had two people to rooting for you.

"Oh..."

“Don't worry, you will thank us when done. Come on, go wash your face, he will be here soon. "

Taken by anxiety, you gulped the coffee in a single sip and catapulted to the bathroom to wash and dress.

After the shower you changed your clothes and decided to wear a dress that your mother had given you years ago.

Once out of the bathroom Sam couldn't help but notice a new side of you, a more feminine side that you apparently tended to hide.

He whistled at you and said "How cute we are"

You blush saying "My mother gave it to me years ago, I think it's the right time to wear it"

He looked at you from head to toe, made a grimace of approval and added "It fits you divinely."

You blushed again.

The magic moment was interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"Here he is!" Sam nimbly jumped out of bed to open the door.

A middle-aged man with white hair and a bright look was out there.

“Hey Victor! Long time no see!"

"Hi Sam!"

The two hugged and patted each other on the back while you waited for introductions.

"So, Samuel Drake, will you let me in?" said the older man.

"You're welcome" replied the younger one and clearing his throat added "Ahem, this is the disinherited princess", he put both hands on your shoulders "She is Y / N  Y / L / N"

"Hello ..." you held out your hand.

"My pleasre Miss, I'm Victor" he shook your hand. His grip was as strong and firm as Sam's, and from that detail you felt you could trust him too.

Sully took a seat in the chair in the room and you and Sam took place on the edge of the bed.

"So, where do we start?" Victor asked.

Sam waved at you to invite you to speak.

You were so uncomfortable having to tell about your misadventure that you were torturing your fingernails.

Sam noticed your discomfort, so he took one of your hands in his and squeezed them tightly to give you courage. With a smile he gave you another nod and pointing to Sully he said “You can rest assured. Victor and I have known each other for a lifetime, he is a person you can trust, just like me. "

The older man then spoke up and began "I did a lot of research on your family. And you ... you don't appear anywhere. To help you, we need as much details as possible. You can trust me, I give you my word" he concluded putting a hand on his heart.

You held your breath for a couple of seconds, then let yourself go.

“Ok ... I can do it ... I was taken into the house by Mrs. and Mr. Y / L / N when I was about 4 years old. I was part of one of the groups that they followed and to which they gave financial aid to study. Like me, many of my companions had no parents, however, among many, they decided to keep me by their side as if I were their daughter. Only later I understood why: I resembled their missing daughter. Similar eyes, similar attitudes. I heard rumors about this missing daughter of theirs, she wasn't dead, just one day she vanished into thin air. Not being able to have other children, the Lady taught me to call them mom and dad. I grew up with them, studied with them every day of my life. I lacked nothing and I was happy. "

The two men were attentive to every single word that came from your lips. Serious and silent. Occasionally Sam stroked your hands with his thumb and that comforting feeling made you feel good.

“Then one day… I was playing hide and seek with a partner of mine and… I happened to witness an argument between my parents and one of my father's brothers. He brought misfortune, I felt it ... I had never seen my father so agitated ... but at the same time he was determined to continue on his path. "

A tear ran down your face. You stopped your story for a moment as Sam's grip tightened. That gesture moved you and spurred you to go on.

“My father's brother used to say that my parents were doing something wrong and that they should think before doing such a stupid thing. I didn't understand what they were talking about ... I remained hidden listening all the time. Until at a certain point everything was clear: my parents had decided to adopt me and make me the only heir to their inheritance. My relatives, on the other hand, wanted the inheritance for themselves. But my father and my mother had already begun the procedures to adopt me. "

At the word inheritance Sam and Victor threw a knowing look at each other while you continued to unravel the facts.

"My parents ... wanted to remove all their family members from the inheritance because they were people who used the money only for their own purposes, while mom and dad invested in the less fortunate generations ... So to get the inheritance they would have to eliminate me. "

You grasoed Sam's hand and continued in a low voice "... Until one day I’ve found my father hanged and my mother motionless on the ground ..."

Sam interrupted "...Did you do the anonymous phone call?"

You nodded in tears "Yes ... Yes ... It was me who found them ... I felt the world collapse, so I did the wisest thing to do at that moment: run away. It wasn't easy, they tried to track me down, I had a fight with my father's brother, I shot him in the leg as a result of his assault, luckily I didn't end up in prison ... then I finally ran away and they didn't come looking for me anymore. .. "

Sully pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, took one and lit it. He had to ease the tension of the moment. He took a puff of smoke and asked "How long have you been on the run?"

You looked up at him "About 10 years ..."

"Man..." Sam commented.

You dried another tear.

"Could you give us some information about your relatives or about this uncle of yours?" Victor asked.

"He is the most dangerous, the others are simply inepts, but him ... he is a true son of a bitch."

"I learned that he is a drug dealer" added the elderly man.

"Among the many things ..." you commented.

"... and it seems that he has some kind of bodyguard" concluded Victor turning to Sam.

Sam gave him a questioning look.

You looked at them with horror in the eyes and tearing your hand from those of the younger man you burst into a desperate cry "I'll never make it ..."

Sam wrapped you in his arms and you let yourself go to a convulsive cry.

The two men were now looking into each other's eyes. Then Victor said "The bodyguard is only one"

Upon hearing those words Sam felt relieved, but his attitude soon changed when the other man added:

"... she's a woman".

Sam shivered, his guts twitched, his sixth sense was telling him that if Victor had specified such a trifle it meant that in reality it was not at all, but it was a fundamental detail.

"... Do you believe that ...?"

Sully nodded.

"Fuck ..." Sam murmured bringing a hand to his face while he squeezed you with the other.