[Voice]

[espigeonage]

[Dated to within hours of Wise Snake's demise. There are a couple seconds of nothing but his very deep slow breaths before Julien speaks. He sounds weary and ragged, with hollow trembling notes in some of his vowels.]

I guess this is goodbye, Numbers Club. See, I made plans to leave if I got too pulsed up to look human anymore, and. [paaause] Yeah. I'm sorry. I can't really help anyone like this, anyway. I can't-

My sister can put me up, out west. She agreed to it, I called her and everything. -I would like to see my niece again. [okay trying to focus] Um, Tater, I showed you where the outside key is, you can get someone to let you in. People who work at the LSR... I think I was recognized. -I know I was. So the cops might know. I'm sending Aaron a voicemail about that, we set up plans, but for you, just, if they talk to you, I'm some weirdo who worked there and had nothing to do with you, okay?

[Deep, deep breath.] Can I get someone to drive me out of the city? And get just the stuff I really need from my apartment? There's a motel out of the bounds where I've booked a room. I know, short notice, but I don't want the city border getting clamped down first. Things are still messy right now. It should be possible.

Please be safe. Everyone.

[This is not going to work quite as planned.]

Comments

[espigeonage]

[This park isn't close enough to the business district to be used for anything. It's deserted - the few cars in the lot have been there for a while, judging by the snow on them.

There are some odd footprints in the snow, like dinosaur tracks. Each toe is nearly a foot long, and most prints are quite far apart. The tracks lead to a weathered bench overlooking the lot.

When he's still and quiet, Julien's stealth talent keeps him from standing out unless he's looked at directly. After that, well. His limbs have changed. Stretched out. There are a lot of feathers. Julien's sitting crosswise on the bench so that three or so feet of tailfeathers lie out behind him, very long legs out in front, wings folded to keep him warm. He's dirty and bruised up, and manages a smile.]

Hi.

[belphe]

....hi.

[Forgive her, she can't keep from staring as she takes in the odd form his mid-transition has fixed him with for the moment. She can certainly see his need to get out of the city...

Catching herself, she forcibly tears her eyes away from him to open the bag she had carried with her from the car and produce a bottle of water.]

I wasn't sure what sort of shape I'd find you in... [pun very much unintentional] If a bottle is hard to hold, I also brought a dish...

[espigeonage]

[He's been getting a lot of staring. Wearily, Julien opens the wing that's not up against the back of the bench as if saying yes, it's real. A few clawed fingers stick out of it. It is big, and whiter than the old snow of the lot.

Julien's lips compress. A dish! Like was all animal! He keeps himself from saying anything. It's not an unreasonable thing to consider.]

A bottle's fine. Open it? Or unseal it anyway. [Bringing the outstretched wing in some, he rubs thumb against the two other mobile fingers, rasping pebbly scales together.] I'm not sure how good I am with caps.

[belphe]

[Sorry but she DID run into a talking horse just a short while ago...whether it had once been a person or not, she didn't know, but she had prepared for the worst, nonetheless.

With a nod, she uncaps the bottle and offers it to him.]

If you don't mind me asking...how long have you been transforming this way?

[espigeonage]

Thanks.

[He takes it carefully - the longest wingfeathers stretch out over an arm's length past what's left of his hand, so they tap Belle's shoulder and pass half a foot in front of her face as he reaches out, then brings his arm back in. Those feathers make every movement or gesture ponderous if he doesn't want them brushing against everything. Julien drains the bottle quickly and sits up straighter when he's finished.]

April. That was my lungs. It mostly kept to stuff people don't tend to notice until this.

[belphe]

[It's bizarre, certainly, but also fascinating. She waits until he's taken the bottle to back off a step and allow him more room to resituate himself as she shifts the conversation topic to something other than his appearance]

I checked the news just before I left...so far the police are still scattered around the disaster site and not setting up any perimeters, so we should be safe to leave...

Did the person coming with us give you an estimate of when to expect them?

[espigeonage]

[Julien has been crying recently, but scrubbed the evidence away with snow and now seems more composed. There are scratches on his face that came from his claws.]

Mm. When the bombing happened they had the city locked down quickly. I want to be out before they can do that.

[He shifts his legs as if considering standing up.]

Her name is Blaine. She's been turning into a thing called a 'titan'. Far from the only one, I've heard. For a few months she lived in the spare room of my apartment... and, no estimate. Can I ask you to go there, the apartment I mean, and get my panic bag?

[belphe]

I can do that. Is it far from here?

[She doesn't blame him for crying, the poor guy. All things considered, Julien is handling this better than most people would be.]

[espigeonage]

[He smiles unhappily.]

Not far. I come here all the time. I'd go with you, but.

-The key's in my pocket. Hang on.

[he knows he won't be able to fish keys out like this while sitting. Julien parts his legs somewhat, sets his toes, and stands up and up and up - he'd been five five, before. With his legs straightened out like this, his ankle joint level with Belle's knee, and his neck subtly lengthened, he's around seven feet.

anyway he brings a wing alongside his leg - even with his legs so long, his wingtips brush the ground - and manages to get two clawed fingers into his pocket and draw out a keyring, even though it takes a couple of tries.]

[belphe]

[She had set the bag she'd brought with her on the ground to pull something out of it - a folded blanket that, just a minute ago she'd been planning to drape around his shoulders to keep the chill off of him as long as he had resigned himself to sitting outside.

....now that he's towering over her? Maaaaybe she'll need to rethink that plan. To her credit, at least, she keeps an outward mask of patient neutrality as she waits for him to get his keys.]

[espigeonage]

[Julien catches a fractional widening of her eyes in his clear peripheral vision and holds back a sigh. When he finally gets the keyring out, he turns what's left of his hand palm-up - of course, the rest of the wing turns with it - and gets the keyring unhooked.]

Here.

[The keys slide unhurriedly down an expanse of wing feathers and drop off the tip, falling into the bag if Belle doesn't catch them. Julien folds that wing, flicks his tail out behind him, and lowers himself to the bench again. Once more he slumps, spine curved.]

God, I don't see why feathers are this - heavy.

[belphe]

[Luckily, the keys' leisurely descent town the length of his feathers gives her plenty of time to react and catch them.]

Hopefully, you won't need to wonder for long. We'll leave as soon as Blaine gets here. [She offers, setting the blanket back into the bag when it seems clear that the cold is the least of what's bothering him at the moment. In it's place, she takes out the second bottle of water that had been in it and untwists the cap, setting it beside him on the bench before taking out her cel phone to open her Maps program]

I'll need the name of your apartment and the unit number...

[espigeonage]

I'll tell you if she shows while you're out.

[Julien is keeping himself warm with his wings, bending his arms like he's playing velociraptor and keeping them, and therefore feathers, pressed against him. His bare feet don't really bother him. The sleeves of his coat and shirt layers split at the seams and hang in tatters from his shoulders. At some point he's managed to undo buttons and open his coat, but he can't take it off or do it back up.]

It's the Whitestone. Two blocks from here. Fourth floor, unit 16. The key you want's got metallic paint on it. I packed a duffel bag, it's in the closet of the bedroom on the right, the one with not much in it. Can't - describe the color. [His color perception is very inhuman and has been for more than six months.]

[belphe]

[She takes a moment to take out her phone and plug the name into the GPS tracker.]

I'll be back as soon as I can.

It probably won't be very comfortable, but I can fold down the back seat and leave the car unlocked for you while I'm gone in case you need to avoid anyone...

[It was an uncomfortable position. He had made it clear himself that he didn't want to be seen like this, but reiterating the point seemed rude. ...though it would have been equally rude, in her opinion, not to offer him the option to hide himself.]

[espigeonage]

[He blinks wearily at her, taking a moment before he gets what Belle's saying. Very carefully he manages to pick up the other bottle, not spilling much, and drinks a few swallows.]

Okay. Sure. I'll try not to scratch the paint.

[Julien's apartment has not that much of note. Toys a parrot has chewed, an enormous athelas plant with its fine pale roots in a fishtank with greenish unfishy water, and the bedroom on the left has a lot of clothing in it.]

[While Belle's in there Julien sends her a message, basically 'Blaine's here. She's a lot bigger than me. Brace up.' He'd noticed she wasn't happy about being towered over.]

[There will be a large white van in the lot. Julien will be sitting on the roof of Belle's car, toes spread against the ground, and a little farther back will be a figure somewhat more humanoid than him. Bigger, though. Eleven or so feet tall, with inhuman proportions to her limbs.]

[belphe]

[By the time Belle returns with the duffel bag he'd asked for slung over her shoulder, she's mentally prepared herself for the most outlandish scenario she can think of to ensure she will not be surprised again when she gets back.

Blaine, therefore, thankfully falls short of the extreme mental picture her mind has painted for her as she returns to the parking lot, approaching Julien to give him the bag she'd fetched.]

Are we all ready?