Room for One More? (E 1.5, L 1.6)

Location: The Roost
Time: afternoon

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Litch,

After arriving at The Roost in the wee hours of the morning, you found a place for Edmund to sleep before heading to bed with Kes. Who did Edmund have to share a room with? Mynah wasn't waiting for the two of you. In fact, you heard her still up in her workshop, unable to sleep. Kes, though, nodded off fast.

What does a typical morning with the Talons look like, Litch? What chores does the gang have? Do you hunt food or buy it? Do you grow a garden here or is the area not suitable?

I am often the first to rise every morning. This time, though I give my body a break. Kestrel rose at her usual time to help prepare breakfast. Everyone pitches in for food. Merlin does most of the fishing, Javan sets the traps, and Mynah purchases what we cannot get for ourselves. Kestrel and the kids all cook and season the food. Nobody lets Jackdaw help; he's an awful cook.

Breakfast has been prepared and sent up to me. A bit of river trout and eggs, likely purchased earlier this week. It's seasoned with herbs we manage to grow on the rooftop where there is enough sunshine. It's delicious. I rise to eat, then stride over to a mirror to shave the thick stubble growing on my jaw with a straight razor and a badger brush - a small luxury I allow myself. Truthfully, I'd prefer Mynah to do the shaving, but I'm not going to interrupt the work flow of someone who rose before the sun did while I slept.

After my morning ritual of preparing for the new day, I head toward the stairs, down to find Edmund and see if my bandages need to be changed. Poor fellow had to bunk next to Jack. The stipulation for getting the largest private quarters was that he had to share it with any guests who stayed with us. I doubt Jackdaw minds it. Those who stay with him are the ones who lodge complaints. Poor sods. I think Jack talks himself to sleep.

I stop over near Shrike's quarters before heading to check on the Butler. I knock softly on the wall next to the curtain hanging over the entrance, in case Aloe too is sleeping. "Shrike, are you in there?"

Edmund,

You rode back to The Roost on the back of Kestrel's jet ski and arrived a few hours before sunrise. Litch led you to a large room with Jackdaw. How do you get along with the boisterous and self-confident Jackdaw? Do you enjoy his stories and jests, or does he annoy you like he does Litch?

The bedroll Jackdaw rolled out for you and the blankets he provided were surprisingly comfortable, but the nighttime sounds of The Roost made it hard to relax. You catch a few winks of sleep before the smell of breakfast tickles your nostrils and Jackdaw wakes you as he hums some "morning song" that he's probably making up.

What do you do?

The ride to The Roost was atypical and a little awkward. Atypical in the sense that I’ve never ridden on such a small and fast craft; and awkward in the sense that it appears Kestrel has access to an entirely different set of sensibilities and expertise than I do. Aside from instructing me to, "Get on and hold onto something," she was taciturn.

The only words I was able to find for her were, "Thank you," as I slid onto the small craft behind her. I also said, "I’m sorry," while we were in open waters. I thought I spoke loudly enough to carry to her, but she made no indication the words found her.

When we reached the dock she simply moored, said something to Litch and went her own way.

Litch kindly showed me to a room occupied by a man named Jackdaw, then departed. Jackdaw quickly prepared a bedroll set out for me. Meanwhile, I slip out of my trousers, vest and button-up. Folding the vest over the gun and knife. The pants will be fine for a little while, but without access to the facilities I’ve been accustomed to, I’m sure I won’t be able to get the blood out of my dress shirt. I’ll deal with that at a later time. Resigned after a minute or two I slip into the bedroll.

"I appreciate your preparing this for me, as well as being gracious enough to host me without complaint." Between the sounds of the water so near, the novel feel of the bedroll, and the chaotic events of the night - true rest eludes me even though I dip in and out of wakefulness.

I’m roused by the scent of food and unique tune that Jackdaw is humming. I’m curious if he is like this all the time. It reminds me of the twins back at Princy’s. I hope they are all managing well.

"Good morning Mister Jackdaw. I hope you had a good night. I’m sorry for intruding as I did." I saw while stretching and working a new kink out of my neck. "An interesting tune you have," I smile at him, "Is it special to you?"

"Just wanted to check in on the little one. See if she need anything? Or...if you do?" I lean my shoulder against the wall casually and add. "Don't think Mynah will truly be ok until things are made right. But I think she's doing what she must to take care of herself."

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, which hangs loosely on my shoulders. I don't often wear head coverings inside of the basilica. It seems disrespectful to the memories of those who worshipped here before. Though I don't hold anyone else to my compulsion in this regard. "Not everyone can remove their pain with either prayer or direct action. We all have our own ways of dealing with it. I..." I'm about to reveal more, but it wouldn't be proper. My family needs my strength and clear vision.

Instead I say, "I brought Princy's man here to stay for a few days. He's something of a fugitive, so I've granted him sanctuary. He's staying with Jack in case you wanted to see him."

In the tower, I would have to be tenacious about correcting his way of addressing me. Here however, I have no reason to keep up pretences. Besides, Headmund is one I haven't heard before.

"Should I be concerned about being on the menu?" I banter playfully with the charismatic man as he resumes humming his ode to human consumption.

"I'll pass on the drink for now, though I may take you up on it at another time." It appears he is holding a bottle of Keeper's Heart - a local branch of Irish American distillery said to be submerged somewhere relatively near. The label is nowhere to be seen, but the bottle is easy enough to identify - and that's assuming it bears its original contents. Regardless, I'd be happy to have some at a later hour.

"About any future debts you hope to collect from me - you may be unpleasantly surprised at how very little I have to offer outside of thoughtful discussion." As I say it, the realization of how utterly little I have in this world sets in. I can hold my possessions in a single hand. "You wouldn't happen to have a tub I could wash my shirt in? It would be nice to try to get some blood out." I slip back into my trousers and put my vest on over my knife harness and undershirt.

"If you don't mind, I'd be interested in hearing your story. How did you come to be a member of the Talons?" I briefly check the bullet placement in the revolver's cylinder before locking it back into place, not making any particular efforts to hide the weapon. As far as I'm concerned, my world was ripped away from me last night. I may have thought that would make me cling to what little I have even more - but it seems quite the contrary.

"I don't know." I reply honestly. "I near killed the man hunting him. Left him bleeding on the Tower docks." I leave out the part where one of Kamae's drones shot me. I shrug. "If he survives, I suppose there could be trouble. But I owed Edmund a favor after he helped us out." My phrasing is intentional. Edmund saving Shrike's life was a favor to the entire family, but I also know that she doesn't like to be reminded of her moment of need.

"Someone tried to assassinate Princy and Eddie got framed for it. Wrong place at the wrong time." I gaze into her eyes, observing the fear she tries to keep hidden. I push myself off of the wall and rest both of my hands on her shoulders. "I won't let anything happen to her, sister." I reassure her, using a formal title of address. "She is also a part of us, for as long as she wills it."

"All have purpose, Shrike." Our shared moment of vulnerability is sweet, yet blessedly short. My circle of trust is bigger than hers, but it's still small. And there are things that need to get done. "Walk with me." I say as I turn away from her room to continue on my path to Jackdaw's room. "Jack's planning to use the Shark Eaters to retrieve our treasures. One of them will attempt to steal from us. I need you to not kill them on the spot when this happens."

Though she is only a few years older than my kids, I trust Shrike to keep my confidences completely. What I don't have the utmost faith in is her ability to control her anger when anyone she cares about is double-crossed or put in danger. Shrike is the consumate defender, our holy warrior. I know full-well that what I am asking her will be challenging. "There may be opportunity enough for that later. But I need you to trust me on this."

Litch and Edmund,
The two of you meet in the hallway moments later, right outside the bathroom closest to Jackdaw's. Jack gives you a nod, Litch, but winks at Shrike before he excuses himself to "drain the giant lizard" and he goes into the bathroom and shuts the door, leaving all three of you out here.

With that, this shirt should be ready to go in a while when it dries. I'm rather pleased I was able to lift the blood using what was on hand! I head out of the bathroom and am surprised to find Litch and, this must be Shrike.

I step to the side of the hallway to make sure they are able to move about however they wish without my being in the way. "Good morning, Miss Shrike. Mister Litch." I bow. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'm truly grateful for what you've provided me with. I'll try to find a place of my own as soon as possible to ensure I won't be a burden. Is there anything I can do to be of service while I'm here?"

"Stay as long as you need to, Mundo." My face teases a hint of a smile when I grant the butler yet another nickname. I'm not sure whether or not he likes being called anything other than his given name. Sterling hides any disapproval behind his genteel disposition. "But your medical skills would be useful here. We all have scrapes, cuts, and bruises. And," I glance quickly to Shrike. "We have a little one with something a little more serious. Help her and you have a permanent place to dry your feet. I'll even get you your own space."

It occurs to me that a different title may be a helpful differentiator while I'm not in the tower. A chance to rebuild myself without all the pain that comes from being constantly reminded of who I am not. I find myself shocked at how comfortable I am at the thought of not returning to the tower, maybe it is just some version of shock though. A day will likely come, possibly soon, where I long for the heights of the Tower.

Being asked to tend to one of their flock is simultaneously exciting and terrifying. "Absolutely Mister Litch, anything I can do to help." No sense asking what will happen to me if I'm not successful in helping.

"Alright, then." I respond. "Shrike will take you to breakfast, assuming you haven't eaten yet. Then you can see your patient." I give out the itinerary, then dismiss them, before continuing down the corridor leading to Mynah's workshop.

I wince when I enter the workspace, even though I had half expected it to reek. I stride over to the bench to strap a painter's mask to my face, the filters blocking out the malodor. I watch Mynah at work for a few minutes. I feel like I should interrupt and ask her how I can help. That's what I would do for Kestrel. But this is Mynah. I don't think help is what she needs or wants. Instead, I leave her to her task and pick up a nearby broom, dustpan, and cleaning rag and begin to clean up her shop. If she notices me and wishes to converse, I will. But if not, I will continue to love her in this way.

I'm crouching down to sweep debris into the metal dustpan when she speaks. I look up to her, listen, then continue to work for a few more moments while I collect my thoughts. "You didn't throw away your time with him. Every time we went to the bar, you spoke with him first. And he reserved his biggest smiles for you."

I toss the dirt and dust into a metal bin. It's nearly full and the trash barge isn't due for another four days. If it comes on time. I set the cleaning tools down and turn back to her. "You did the right thing, Mynah, keeping him out of the life. Gave him more time. Gave him the freedom to choose his own path." I'm not sure why anyone would choose total independence and hunger over the community and purpose the Talons offer, but I don't coerce any to join or to stay. It has to be a choice.

Adrift. A soul without anchor, yet still weighed down. No final resting place. In my darkest moments, it's what I fear most. That my faith is something that gives meaning only in life, but is ultimately meaningless in death. Through my visions, I've glimpsed the hope that those who die with purpose are truly granted an afterlife of everlasting meaning and freedom. Working in Poseidon's Belly meant that Kiwi never had much chance to die with purpose, but Harpy gunning him robbed him of the slim hope he had.

Not for the first time, the image of Helix swims to the surface of my thoughts. I don't want one with so much promise and potential to share the same fate as Mynah's boy. But I won't force her to leave her life in the midden of the city.

"I will ask the Gray Wing to save his soul, to make an exception. But it may come with a cost, Mynah." There's always a price.

"If you don't mind, Miss Shrike, I'd rather see to your dear one before eating. You said her name is Aloe?" I feel that my fate is oddly tied to this girl. I wouldn't be surprised that in the event of her passing, I wouldn't be far behind. "I seem to have a way with restorative arts, something... instinctual about how to bring the body back into balance."

Shrike doesn't seem to be in a hurry, as her pace is clearly matching mine. Not to mention they fully intended to have me eat prior to visiting Aloe. Still, I have wandered a little outside of my normal routine to say the least, and my appetite seems to have not yet found me.

As we continue down the archaic halls, I try to see what I can learn about the girl. "Miss Shrike, would you mind telling me a little more about Miss Aloe? Anything about her history - when or where her illness began? Has anything particularly unusual happened that would give me any insight as to how to help her?"

Edmund,

This is Aloe:


She's covered in a sheen of sweat as she tries to sit up in the makeshift bed in the corner by the window. The sunlight is bright this morning and she squints against it as she peers at you curiously while Shrike makes introductions in a gentle voice.

What do you do?

The brightness of the sun streaming in through the window illuminates a room that is pleasantly, and surprisingly, well kept. It seems Shrike makes a relatively significant effort at keeping the space suitable for Aloe. Aloe seems to be about Paisley's age, but it is hard to tell since she is not in good health.

"Chained to the ship!?" I speak softly to Shrike. I'm shocked by the barbaric treatment of the young girl. "Did she appear ill when you found her? How long ago was that?"

I move close to Aloe to inspect her. As I slowly approach the makeshift bed, I kneel down and slide in closer. I want her to feel that I'm as harmless as possible.

"Hi Miss Aloe, my name is..." I'm about to say Edmund when I think of what Litch called me earlier. "...Mundo!" My tone is still rather quiet, but I'm doing my best to be a bit silly with her. Again, memories of my times with Paisley spring to mind. "I hope you don't mind but I'm here to help! Is it okay if I feel your forehead and throat?"

I meet Mynah's gaze with stoic appraisal. I breathe deeply and nod. "Alright. Come with upstairs with me. We'll pray together." I turn toward the large double-doors that lead back inside, holding one open and turning back to her to wait for her response.

Litch,
Mynah finishes up her work, putting away the paste and her goggles so she can join you. She looks resolute, ready to make good on your offer.

"It sounds funny, doesn't it? 'Mundo'. I'm finally starting to feel like it may actually suit me." I say with a big smile and hushed tones. It certainly seems like a lung disease, simply based on how she's breathing. I see speckles of blood staining the sleeves of her shirt - spattered from coughing. Her fever is evident the moment I make contact with her forehead.

My heart sinks as a particular illness jumps to my mind. I tenderly cup my hands over her eyes, one at a time, to provide a dark, makeshift tube I can peer through. A faint shimmer is visible - confirming my suspicion, and my worry. Pulmocor - a rather uncommon disease that impacts both the lungs and heart. She was likely exposed to some airborne toxin for a prolonged period of time. As those toxins are breathed in, they hijack the blood cells so as the body circulates the contaminated cells the blood vessels are violently broken down beginning with the capillaries. One of the earliest signs is an iridescent shimmer in the eyes caused as the contaminated blood gets to work shredding the blood vessels near the surface of the eye.

I sit back on my heels and take her hand. "I know what you are fighting, and I know how to help. I'm going to do absolutely everything in my power to make sure you'll be able to spread your wings again soon! If you have any questions about it let me know. I'm going to go talk to Miss Shrike to see how quickly we can get the materials I need to help you."

I stand and walk back to Shrike taking up a position near the door at the opposite side of the room from Aloe.

"Miss Shrike, as I said this is a disease known as Pulmocor. It is definitely more likely to be terminal for children and adolescents than it is for adults. Still, it is possible for it to be transmitted to those around her - even though she is no longer around the source of the toxic air." I look admirably around the room, "I believe that may be a low risk though since you seem to have been doing a great job at keeping her space well ventilated, and clean."

If we are still early enough in the progression of this disease I may be able to treat her, but if it is established... well, we can cross that bridge if needed. "I'll need some supplies. A sterile transfusion kit is most critical. Her infected blood cells will continue to be forced through her body. Normally, those infected cells would be broken down through phagocytosis and replaced by fresh cells, but think of this disease as giving the cells a barbed armor. Her blood effectively has a bunch of tiny shrapnel coursing through it that won't break down on its own. I'll need to perform an exchange transfusion - replacing her blood with healthy blood."

I look back to Aloe as she uncontrollably coughs into her sleeves, but continue speaking quietly with Shrike, "I hope the damage to her body is still mild enough to get her back on her feet."

I reach out my hand to take hold of hers and lead her back inside toward the stairs. Nobody calls out to us as we walk silently side-by-side, though there are several of our people nearby. All seem to recognize and respect the somber mood with which we carry ourselves. When we reach our bedchambers, I begin to sanctify the area and prepare again for the ritual. When everything is ready, I finally break the silence, motioning for her to kneel at my side. "We will mix our blood together and I will make first contact. Is there anything you would like to give to the Gray Wing as tribute before we begin?"

I give Shrike what I hope to be a reassuring smile. "Best case scenario, I was hoping you already had a kit." I chew on my lip as I consider what other resources we would have for collecting the materials. "We could try to barter for these, though I have little to offer."

I think quietly for a while before an alternative jumps to mind. "We could try subsurface scavenging. I typically think subsurface scavenging to be a fool's errand - but for this, we could at least focus our efforts on specific locations. If we can locate a derelict medical facility - we might have a real shot. They used to vacuum seal many of the supplies that I would find useful, so they may have aged phenomenally." I'm surprised at how excited I am at the thought of venturing out, and potentially exploring a forgotten space.

"A Librarian may be able to connect us to a resource too." I don't know how much I can trust any connection I've had in the past right now though, so this may be a more reliable place to start. "What do you think?"

After I ask Mynah if she has something she is willing to part with, I begin to light the small brazier. I almost reach out to prevent her from giving up the necklace, her most precious possession. But I instead reach out with one hand, the other reaching around her shoulders, pulling her close to me. I kiss her forehead, then her temple, eyes clenched shut tightly. With a deep breath, I unravel from her to pick up the knife. I prick the tip of my thumb, then hand her the knife to do the same while my life force drips into the brazier atop the necklace I had dropped inside.

I begin the familiar murmurings and chants. When Mynah adds her blood to the bowl, I grab her bloodied hand with my own and begin to call to the Gray Wing. Gray Wing above. Enlighten the path before us. We offer our treasures in homage to your power. You know what it is we beseech thee for. Grant us this boon and shepherd his soul into your eternal flight.

"If you're willing to redeem some of your favor with Ms. Pellet for information, or the kit, that would be wonderful. Based on my observations of Ms. Aloe's symptoms, we may still have a couple days to go through with this procedure before the damage is irreparable." I run my fingers through my beard.

I look back at Aloe as she rests in her bed - noting to myself that I should return later with some fresh water for her and perhaps some bread if I can find some. Just as I'm considering what to bring her, I register the fragrances of the morning meal. The aroma simply lacks the depth and abundance of scents that teemed in the Tower. Still, something about the simplicity is refreshing. A flame of admiration sparking to life within me at the thought of people working to put anything on the table, and making the best out of it, though I doubt I would find anyone who would share in my admiration.

"If you don't mind Ms. Shrike, I'd like to have a bite to eat, and join you later today to meet Ms. Pellet. If there is anything I can do to help around the Roost in the meantime, do not hesitate to let me know."

Litch,
You feel the Gray Wing sweep you up in her embrace. She carries you on the wind quickly from the Roost over the oceans to Poseidon's Belly - the place where Kiwi died. You sense that Mynah is here with you, feel her grief and weariness as she swallows it down to give rise to hope here.

The ghost of Kiwi is there, pale and dead, nothing more than an apparition. He is tethered here. But not to Poseidon's Belly. To Helix. His spirit is bound to her and cannot be shepherded into her flight. Kiwi is stuck, perhaps forever. Mynah despairs, and a soft, sad gasp escapes her.

The vision leaves you both sweaty and drawn thin when you wake in your bed chambers as the spirit of the Gray Wing leaves you. Mynah crumples to the ground with the loss she knows is all roo real.

What do you do?

My throat is dry. I cough, then wince as pain lances through me. It's as if I have swallowed ashes. My eyes sting and moving my arms takes effort. We have been denied. Once again, Helix seems to be at the center of everything. I clear my throat and roll on my side. It seems to take half an age before I'm able to sit up. I look over at Mynah. I cannot bear to speak to her, but something must be said.

"I am sorry. He is tied to the girl. His fate is wrapped with hers." I say, matter-of-factly. Void of comfort. I crawl over to Mynah's prone form and move to cradle her in my arms. "But, that does not mean he is lost. We know where he is now. We know who can set him free."

"Good morning Mister Jackdaw." I smile and nod in his direction. His spirit seems contagious, I can see the draw for the Talons to welcome him to their flock. The pair he is speaking to seems to exude a sense of pride and purpose. They must be Litch's progeny. The young man must be Javan, based on what Jackdaw said earlier. I can't tell if the young woman is "Plo," or "Zeph." Each of which Jackdaw described as his self-proclaimed expected breeding partners.

I continue to match pace with Shrike. She appears to carry herself in a way that says she outranks each of them, though I could be wrong. Regardless of whether or not they view each other this way I would never abandon the interaction I'm in to start another without completing my current interaction. Besides, I want to see if I can get a read from Shrike on Jackdaw and the others. It's too soon to tell if she was going to join them or not, but maybe I can gently steer her toward them.

I begin introducing myself to the group, "Edmund Sterling, alleged traitor of the Tower, at your service." In my head the words were almost playful, but the harsh way they escape my mouth catches me by surprise.

Litch,

Mynah collects herself after a few moments of loss, using you as her anchor. She informs you that she needs to meet with Plover to go over some routine maintenance on the power supply she's been building. She seems weighed down by the loss, but determined to continue working through it.

Do you let her leave?

"It is a pleasure to meet you." So, they are Litch and Mynah's children - I can see the resemblance. "I believe there may be more truth in what you say than I'm ready to admit, Ms. Zephyr."

"Some food would be wonderful." I gesture toward the table encouraging Shrike to join the rest of her flock. "Ms. Shrike, shall I gather a plate for you as well?" I note the contents of the plates of the others to use as a reference for my own.

When Mynah murmurs her need to get back to work, I stand to my feet with her. Before she leaves, though, I reach out to touch her shoulder, halting her departure. "This isn't the end of the story, Mynah. I know now that you believe me when I say that the girl is the key." I inhale deeply and breathe out slowly, calming my thoughts and emotions. "The Gray Wing's answer wasn't a no. It was a 'not yet.' " I let my arm fall to my side as I turn back to begin cleaning up the vestiges. "Go on, then. I'll be down soon."

Litch,
Mynah leaves and you clean up after the communion with the Gray Wing. Eventually, you make your way to the communal dining room to find two of your children, Jackdaw, Shrike, and Edmund eating together.

While this level of banter is a bit too uncouth for my liking - Jackdaw and the others seem eager to play this way; besides, if I don't participate somehow I could risk setting myself apart from the group or simply making them uncomfortable around me.

Now, I don't exactly understand the nuance of his insult, but his emphasis of my being a very deep sleeper seems to indicate that I missed him doing something. Probably sexual. Now just to make sure to distance whatever it was from me. "I can generally tune out any noise that lasts less than two minutes." I feel a pang of guilt immediately after saying that though, and follow up by smiling back at him, "Anything I can get you while I'm up?"

At least now he has an out by either asking me to get something or making an erection joke. For all I know he may take this an entirely different direction.

Though my mind is full of questions and consternation, the sight of my family eating with Edmund and bantering jovially pushes some of my concerns away for a brief moment. Life is hard, dangerous, and short. These moments of joy and community are a safe harbor. My presence often sobers the mood, though, so I take care to not interfere with their conversation unless they choose to bring me in to it. Instead, I make myself busy cleaning up. It's Javan's turn today so when he turns to look at me over his shoulder with a questioning glance, I wink and smile back as if to encourage him to take it easy. No Talon is above service in the Roost. Everybody pitches in, even the boss.

While Shrike ensconces at the table with the others, I swiftly collect a pair of plates and begin filling them with the simple food of the covered baskets. I find some of the smallest portions for myself. I'm unsure if Litch and Mynah have eaten yet, so I select some moderately-sized portions for Shrike, making sure to leave enough behind for anyone who hasn't eaten or who wants more.

It is fun to listen to the Talons laugh together. I didn't realize until now, but real laughter is a sound that I don't hear much. When someone laughs in the tower it usually means one of a couple things. It is either the privileged mocking those who aren't; sycophants trying to ingratiate themselves with a patron; or a genuine laugh from a group of children playing - quickly followed by a hit or hush from men and women who think too much of themselves. Maybe Zephyr is right, and the Tower is just full of zokholes.

As I approach the table I place Shrike's portion in front of her, then sit. The remnants of the laughter still echoing around the table remind me of how the melodic counterpoint the twin's guitars would fade as their playing drew to an end, leaving behind only a memory of its sound. Like that memory, I will treasure this sound.

Still, I should get some information so I can try to prevent being caught off guard. "Can you let me know what a typical day looks like for you?" I say to the table with no intended target, "And are there any particular taboos or things I should be aware of?"

Laughter trails off, not like you'd said anything wrong, Edmund, but because it's a serious question. Javan, Zephyr, and Shrike all turn to look at Litch with the expectation that he'll lay down the law. Jackdaw simply goes back to eating.

"A typical day, you ask?" I respond, not looking up from my work, but recognizing that the silence is my invitation into the conversation. "Well now, that sounds like the question of someone who intends to stay a while." I glance up at the small assembly, my eyes twinkling in amusement. "Which you are welcome to, Edmund. I ask that you simply pitch in when asked and respect our hierarchy of authority. I don't expect you to memorize all of our rules. We'll tell you if a line has been crossed, but we won't hold the first offense against you."

I look around the room at the others so they know this is my directive to them as well as to the butler. "Now, finish up and get back to your duties. Zeph, the raven's rookery needs to be cleaned. Javan, take out the trash and then I'll meet you in the armory and help you clean out the weapons. Jack, stay back. I want a progress report with the Shark Eaters and your other ongoing deals. Mundo," I pause and look at him and Shrike. "Enjoy your stay in the Roost. And thank you for helping us. Shrike will keep you busy for the morning. I'll check in on you this afternoon. Dismissed."

I hand the large bucket of scraps to my son, then grab a mug of tea and sit at the table with Jackdaw to hear his report.

I blow gently on my tea before taking a careful sip as I listen to the braggadocio as he basks in his element. "We don't have scuba gear, Jackdaw. That's why we needed the Shark Eaters in the first place." I set the mug down on the table, then clasp my hands together in front of me, leveling him with my pale, stern eyes. "But I have no doubt that you can still get us the gear. Perhaps by using your magnanimous personality."

I nod in agreement and reach inside the right breast pocket of my duster to grab jingle for Jackdaw. The action makes me recall the missing smokes from the night prior - we used up the last two I had - and my face twitches as I also remember the pain from the laser-orbs. I should have asked Edmund to take a look at the wound. Time for that later.

"Alright, Jack." I say, slapping the bag of coins into his palm, making the distinct sound for which it's named. "Don't try to double-cross them at the Tower. It isn't Poseidon's Belly. There are fewer idiots and more resources."

My knuckles pale as I nervously grip the handrail that ends just as the narrow walkway begins. I'm not the strongest swimmer. While I don't fear the water, I certainly respect it. Sometimes, out the corner of my eye, even the shallow waves that roll past seem to be claws that lap at the surface, threatening to drag the careless or overconfident to the murky depths.

I'm excited to go with Shrike, but should make sure she is confident in letting me join. "Are you sure you want me to join you Miss Shrike." Have to have speak loudly to make sure my voice carries to her. "Won't I just slow you down?"

My face softens at Jackdaws offer. "That's...kind of you, Jack." I sip some tea and ponder for a moment. "If you can swing it, see if you can find an artist that's familiar with Kiwi's likeness. Have them draw a picture of him. If there's enough jingle, maybe you could get one of Javan and Zeph while you're at it." I pause, before adding. "Unless artistic renderings happens to be another one of your many gifts?"

I certainly hope so. I tip my invisible cap to him as he heads off. I had told Javan I would meet him in the armory to help him clean and ready the weapons and combat equipment. Makes the work go faster when there are more hands and I enjoy spending time with each of the Talons...yes, even with Jackdaw. Though his company, as well as his art, is a procured taste.

In my soul, I know that I may need to locate Helix and search for a means to untether Kiwi from her. Unfortunately, she's with the Sippians and outside of easy reach. I mentally file it away. There's time. If she is linked by the Gray Wing to me then I'll let the divine direct her to me. In the meantime, there's work to be done. I finish my tea in silence, then head towards the staircase to the armory.

"Careful I can do."

I steady myself and head out to Shrike along the walkway.

Litch, please go here.

I step to where Shrike stood just a moment ago, taking a hold of the crank. As I slowly spin the simple mechanism, the rope coils around the winch pulling the trap closer and closer to the murky surface.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, especially coming from someone like me, but I really appreciate the life you Talons have carved out here. A dwelling to yourselves. Family who genuinely cares about each other. And I can see your effort and struggle alchemizing into results before me." As I speak the water's surface erupts in ripples as the crate emerges from the depths.

"Fair point." I say as I let the rope out again, watching the crate sink below the surface.

"If someone shot Litch, and you managed to save his life, but then everyone started hunting you as if you were the one that struck at him - what would you do." As I look at her it is hard to hide the panic that has been consuming me. Still, I force a smile. "Asking for a friend."

"That kind of loyalty and trust says a great deal about both you and Mr. Litch. Is that kind of loyalty tied to the faith you share, or to your character you've fostered?"

I focus as the second trap crests the water and replicate what I saw Shrike do earlier - reaching out to grasp the slick and slimy rope and pulling it over to the walkway. There is a pair of lobsters in this one, but both are rather minuscule. Neither would contribute significantly to a meal now, but given some time to mature each could make for a fine meal. Then again who is to say we'd ever be able to drag these back in. "What do you do with crickets like these?"

"I see." I say to Shrike as she extends her knife my direction. I rotate the small lobsters around examining them closely and notice the slight curve of the tail on one of them letting me know it is a female; the other's tail is straight, male.

"Grow strong and have lots of delicious children." I say as I toss the curve-tailed crustacean back to the depths.

"She wasn't ready yet." I say as I slide the knife delicately out of her unsurprisingly strong grip. "And I don't mind going hungry for a while."

With a swift motion I slide the knife through the remaining crustacean's cephalon carapace, dispatching the small creature. I feel the tension in its extremities go slack as it passes. I remove the knife and use the thumb and forefinger of my hand holding the lobster to pinch the metallic blade. As I gently slide the knife through my grip, the slick residue of the lobster coalesces and drips from the tips of my fingers back to the murky waters. I flip the knife around in my dominant hand hand pass it back to Shrike.

"Do you ever miss who you were before your life here? Or do you know now that The Path is the right path for you?"

"Thank you," I grunt as I accept her aid in pulling myself up beside her. "And thank you for sharing that with me." I steady myself for a moment before loosening my grip on her, nodding for her to continue.

"I'm not sure The Path is for me, but I also don't know that I can return to what I was." If feels strange speaking about this aloud, "Or if I'd even want to," I mutter. "But I am going to need some answers. Some closure."

"That gives me an idea. I'm afraid that I may be too recognizable presently. Does anyone have a razor I could use to clean up? I think I'm ready to table Edmund for a while. Try something new."

"I would appreciate that Ms. Shrike." I fall in step behind her. Her natural pace is slightly quicker than mine, especially out here along the walkways, so I have to add in an extra little shuffle every few feet to keep close to her.

"Is there anything else I can help with? I'd be honored to help with meal preparations, unless that would be stepping out of place."

Shrike hustles up a set of stairs to the top level and passes by a bedroom to bring you into a small room with several bookcases. The spines of the books here are a motley array of leather, paper, and cardboard. The titles are just as chaotic - as if the Talons pick up books just because they exist and worry about the content on their pages later. Sitting at a table is Zephyr. She's quietly reading a leather book with thin but sturdy pages. She looks up as you enter, her soft brown eyes shifting from Shrike to you and back again.

"I'm proficient in the kitchen. It has been several years since I've burned or over-salted anything." I meant it to sound playful, but for some reason the way I worded that makes me feel oafish, and of course now I'm actually worried that I'll frell up a meal. I awkwardly clear my throat and try to push the conversation forward. "I hope not to screw anything up starting now."

"I'm stunned to see so many books! I must admit I have not spent as much time reading as I would like to have. Do either of you have any favorites?"

"Those sound fascinating. I'm not familiar with The Dictionary of Dreams, but it sounds very entertaining." I pace slowly along the bookcases, letting my eyes wander. "Grimms, however, I've spent a little time with recently. Paisley, Princy's little girl, wanted me to read some stories to her from time to time." I chuckle a little as the memory surfaces. "I managed to find a copy of these fairy tales thinking they would be perfect for her, but realized quickly that they may not have been quite appropriate for her, at least in my opinion. So I just held on to that book and turned pages, while telling her stories of love and magic."

As seems to be my new normal, as soon as I finish recalling those precious times, sorrow wells within me. It doesn't spill out, but it is undeniably present and deep, like a pit you don't go near for risk of falling in. "Not that I know much about love or magic."

I remove a book from the shelf that doesn't appear to have a title along the spine, the worn and cracking leather of the cover sits a little oddly. I don't bother to open it, the contents don't matter. For all I know, it could contain the most beautiful poems that could change how I see the world, or some smut that Jackdaw tucked away. I turn the book in my hands, examining the front and back covers and tracing my fingers over the stamped leather admiring the ridges and valleys. It's simple but beautiful - as so many things truly are. It must have been a splendid piece in its time. Whether it dulled and cracked to suit its environment, or because of its environment, who can know. Am I cracking too? The difference between the book, and me, is that I get to choose. I gently slide the book back onto the shelf.

"Miss Zephyr, I think I need to make a change in order to increase the likelihood that I succeed in the tasks ahead of me. Would you be willing to help me shave my beard and cut my hair? You can tell me how some of those fairy tales are actually supposed to end."

I am enjoying the playful flirtations of the Talons. Zephyr and I speak back and forth comfortably while she ushers me to the bathroom and sits me down. Perhaps it is remarkable since Litch seems so stoic all the time. Maybe this is just how they are with each other. Unlike Jackdaw's sexually-charged teasing in which I always assume I'm the punchline of a joke I don't understand, Zephyr's coquetry seems a more authentic interest.

It's enjoyable to watch her ritual while preparing the razor. Not to mention she is easy to look at in general. Then again, so was Shrike. I lean back in the chair and relax for the first time in what feels like forever.

"You don't have to worry about me flinching, I'm sure I'm in good hands." I barely finish the sentence before a chaotic, rapidly-approaching flapping startles me. As it nears, inhumanly fast, I over-rotate in order to not be caught off-guard. In doing so I tip in the chair in such a way that I collapse. The towel that was so delicately fastened around my neck manages to hold fast, but now loosely droops over my face, as I become a frantic sprawl of limbs. In my mind I'm trying to bravely warn this young woman of the incoming threat, but my relentless barrage of nonsensical syllables turns to silence as it becomes clear I am the only force of chaos in this room. As the raven's patiently rests on Zephyr's shoulder, I can almost see it laughing with its beady little eyes. "Anymore. You don't have to worry about me flinching anymore." I laugh as I rest my head on the hard floor, before shamefully picking myself up off the floor and righting the tipped chair.

Where the ravens go, Zephyr is sure to be. I follow the bird with the intent of asking Zeph where Shrike and Edmund are, but instead I hear the loud guffaws of my quarry before I reach the lavatory. I observe the butler picking himself off of the floor, a towel covering his face, I frown in confusion, but when my eyes dart over to Zephyr, they alight on the shearing blade in her hand. "Wise choice Ed. You might want to take it all off. And wear a hat. The cold winds won't treat your bald scalp with much kindness."

I'm certain that Zephyr is likely making her Please leave, Dad! face, as she often does when I interrupt her when she's engaging in flirtatious banter. But I don't pay her any mind at the moment. "Good timing too. We're going to go on a little expedition. You need the experience and I need someone to change my bandages. Plus..." I add. "I think you could use a little perspective on how the world truly is."

Litch's presence alters the mood significantly. A moment ago I felt foolish, but in a way that made me feel closer to someone. Now I just feel like a child.

"You're absolutely right sir." I say as I find my feet and right the chair. "I was thinking of just cleaning up the beard, but I would like to make my way back to the Tower at some point in the next couple days to see if I can get any clarity on what happened. A total shift in appearance would be wise.

Litch's jab at the end, about me not knowing the true state of the world stings. I know in a sense, he isn't wrong. I don't know what life is like for him. And the struggles that his family has to deal with on a daily basis. But that isn't enough to deny the hardships that are faced by those in the Tower. Or the Library. Or the Fountains. Canary crosses my mind - she must have it even harder. No flock to watch over her. No roost to call home, aside from her refuge. But maybe the isolation actually benefits her in a powerful way. Still, not worth raising a fuss over.

"Forgive my embarrassing outburst, Miss Zephyr. I shan't let it happen again. I hope." I manage to make a weak smile. "Unflappable from here on out."

"Aye, take all the hair off. Your fiery mane will draw eyes. Take all the hair off, Zeph. Leave him his eyebrows, though. Don't want to scare children." The corners of my mouth twitch up at my own joke. I pull over a chair while Zephyr goes to work, making myself comfortable while I continue to ponder the very different interactions I just came from with two of my children.

After a silent few minutes, I address Edmund again. "Why do you use formal terms to address us, Edmund? You're not our servant. You're our guest."

"I hope it doesn't bother you Mister Litch. How I have chosen to speak has little to do with what I perceive as formality; nor is it that I believe myself to be ordinally above or below anyone. I recognize that there are layers of cultural and social differences and my hope is to make everyone feel valued." As I stand, I straighten the towel around my shoulders and sit back down in the chair.

"My ultimate hope is that I can promote a sense of civility and respect in any situation. It is the bare minimum for a harmonious and cohesive community, and I know that sounds like a pipe dream. Whether I am speaking with families in the Tower, couriers from the sea, or a lovely family in a Cathedral, I want to be doing my part to build positive relationships and avoid misunderstandings."

Granted I'm currently here because of the biggest misunderstanding of my life. Though my role in the events of last night are clear to me, I have so little context as to why I'm being made out to be the scapegoat. This new look will go far in helping me get some answers.

"Do I come off as insincere? Or am I negatively impacting you?" I ask gesturing to both of the Talons that are present. I sit forward from my almost reclined position, truly concerned that I'm agitating my host.

While Edmund offers his soliloquy, I listen attentively, studying the way his skin reddens as he becomes impassioned. When an idea excites me, I just get louder and sound angrier. I counteract that tendency by tempering my emotions, best as I can. You failed that mere moments ago, old man. "Sit back and sit still, Ed. You'll make her nick your throat."

I give the order automatically, then clear my throat and continue. "No, you are not. In fact, I admire your pipe dream. It's...noble. However, I think you need to practice speaking like regular folk so you don't call untoward attention to yourself." I meant to offer the course of action as a suggestion, though my flat tone makes it sound like another order.

"I'll consider that sir. I agree that there may be times soon where I'll have to pose a certain way to both ensure my identity is far from others' minds." I relax back into the chair and smile Zephyr.

"Say... Litch, I'm hoping to make it over to the Belly soon. I think I might be able to help Miss Aloe, but I need some resources in order to do so effectively. Today or tomorrow would be best - I don't want to make Miss Aloe wait any longer than she needs to. Any concerns in trying to make that happen?"

I nod in return. "Well then, you're in luck. I mean to journey over to the Belly myself. Got someone I need to talk to, someone else who may need guidance seeing how the world truly is." My mouth tilts upward in a smile, but it doesn't travel to the rest of my face. "You, myself, Merlin and...Javan, I think. Gentlemen's night on the town, so to speak. We'll head out within the hour, soon as you're through with getting your new face."

End Scene