faderift | Bird, bird, bird

WHO: Myira and YOU
WHAT: Myira pokes around the Gallows and makes a nuisance of herself.
WHEN: Now-ish?
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Myira can be a jerk? Also nudity bc baths

I. A Forest of Dead Trees

Of all the places in the Gallows, the libraries in the central tower fascinate Myira the most. She has never seen so many books basically ever. In fact, she's not really sure what a book is. She's seen writing, but never like this or all of it in one place. Sometimes she shows up here just to wander around the shelves and pull books out at random. Today is one of those days. Anyone who comes into this particular library might hear someone laboriously reading a book out loud, fumbling over words and letters. Those who investigate will find Myira sitting between the stacks cross legged, five or six books stacked around her and another open in her lap that she is painstakingly attempting to read at a glacial (and rather noisy) pace.

II. I'll see myself out

Myira is... bored. Which is probably not a good thing. She's spent some time wandeirng back and forth across the main courtyard for about thirty minutes in the summer afternoon sunlight before boredom and an itch to stretch her wings get her to retrieve her cloak from her room. A few moments later, there's a raven flitting through the air around the towers of the Gallows. She spends some time dipping, diving and generally showing off before that gets old too and she turns to other methods of diversion. She circles one tower, then another, before settling on a likely open window. She flutters into land on the window sill and looks inside, heedless of whatever she might be interrupting.

"...Nice day, ain't it?" Myira is pretty chipper for a bird that just invited herself in unannounced.

III. A clean bird is a happy bird

The bath, Myira has decided, is one of the things that humans got right. At first she'd simply drawn buckets of (cold) water and doused herself with them to try and get clean as best she could until she found out about the baths. Since then she has become a devoted attendee and can be found there basically every night the baths are open. This evening is no exception. Myira is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave. Currently, she's sitting on the edge of the communal bath, naked as anything, and letting her feet dangle in the warm water with a happy little sigh. She's leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed and kicking her legs a little to splash anyone who gets too close. After a moment, she opens her eyes and feels around beside her, then frowns. Turning her head, she calls out to anyone over by the towels and other bathing accessories.

"Hoi. Can you grab me a wash cloth. I forgot t'grab one!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They are rather numerous, those sea gulls," Newt agrees, slight amusement in his voice. He doesn't know whether Thedas actually has talking ravens or if he's talking to a mage, but he i is absolutely delighted.

The 'back home' catches his attention, however.

"Back home?" He repeats, arching an eyebrow. "Are you not from around here, then?"

"They're idiots, that's what they are!" Myira huffs, sounding rather like an annoyed farmgirl from the West Counties. She spreads her wings out after a moment, then gives a little croak as Newt asks another question.

"Oh, nah. I fell--I never fall--out o' some hole in the sky a few days ago."

Her accent reminds Newt of home, which further amuses him; he bites back a smile. That she fell out of a hole in the sky confirms that she's a rifter, and, he assumes, human, at least, in part. He can't imagine whatever force brought them here would choose someone who was entirely a bird to fight the spreading evil. Then again, perhaps it might. After all, he still doesn't understand who or what brought them all here to begin with himself.

"So you're a rifter too," he nods.

"It is all rather inconvenient, this falling out of holes in the sky business, I find," he says.

"I guess? Is that what they call us?" Myira hops around a little on the windowsill and then launches herself across the room in a flutter of wings to land on Newt's desk, where she struts around amongst the papers heedless of any disarray she's causing.

"Yeah! Real inconvenient, especially when you're supposed to have wings and then don't," she gripes. "Wish they'd warned me first."

"It's the nicer term for what the locals call us," Newt notes with a wry expression. "Considering that many of them assume us to be demons or demon adjacent, at the very least. If we couldn't help close rifts, I suspect our situation here would be quite different." And by that, he means worse, of course.

He smiles as she lands on his desk. He reaches into his pocket for some leftover bread and cheese he'd been saving for Merlin in his pocket, placing it on the desk for the raven if she's hungry.

"I think this is the sort of thing that never really comes with a warning," he says. "You normally have wings?"

"Pfff, demons. Demons ain't real." Myira seems awfully confident about that. She tilts her head to listen to Newt, then eagerly goes after the leftovers that are placed in front of her. Never say no to free food, as far as she's concerned. Peck peck peck.

"Ayuh. Hatched a raven, Skies bless me." She fluffs up some feathers. "But if'n I'm spending too long as a raven I get this itch that won't stop until I wear human skin for a while. I dunno what's causing it. Maybe the magic here."

"Ah, I take it you don't remember the creatures that came through that same hole as you?" Newt asks her. "Those are demons."

He smiles, glad that she's taken his offer of food.

"Could very well be," he says. "It's affected my magic as well. I'm sorry you have to spend time not as yourself. That must be difficult."

"Oh. I guess demons ARE real here, then..." She seems more thoughtful than surprised. Hm.

"I hope I don't hafta tangle with them again any time soon. That weren't a good time, not at all." She pecks at the food a few more times and gulps it down.

"It's frustratin' for sure. But being human ain't the worst. Hands are pretty fun!"

"I take it you have at least the rumors of demons, where you come from?" Newt asks, curious. He's used to the ghosts of his world, Dementors and ghouls. Not to mention Poltergeists. The demons are Thedas are unlike any creature he's ever known.

"It depends," he says, considering. "On how many rifts open up and how often we're dispatched to seal them."

He shakes his head, before smiling at her declaration. "They are rather useful, aren't they? Hands."

"Oh, we got spirits both good an' bad and sometimes humans call 'em demons, I think? I dunno." Myira preen under one wing thoughtfully. She flutters across the room to land on the bed and stretches her wings out for a moment before there's a little twist of reality that always accompanies magic. In an instant, there's a human girl on the bed, sitting cross-legged and draped in a feathered cloak. She grins.

"Ye. Real useful."

Bird, bird, bird

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