dreamseat / pretty human!
he said it once when he was first apprehended by these bird alien guards, and now, forced to his knees in front of his target, bird alien royalty, he says it again, in absolute awe of the beings he’s seeing before him.
truth be told, he had zero idea going into this contract what he’d be up against. he knew the alula … well, existed. he knew croone existed, knew vaguely what the alula looked like because he knows all about the annual afterfeather ( it’s hard not to, when the tabloids eat up the fact that the esteemed commander shepard is too busy to attend despite invite after invite: sure, the guy is busy, but can he really hate parties as much as he says he does, too ? ).
perhaps it’s in his favor that the humans don’t pop up on croone as much, because hunter has to wager that death would have popped up on his agenda much sooner otherwise. he’d have gotten exactly what was coming to him, at any rate. he didn’t even have a clue what more to expect, going in ; had no idea what their security was like, how hostile they were toward intruders, how he was going to sneak in —— his best plan was to stroll right through the front door and wing it. that’s how he does … practically everything.
but, now, here he is: forced to his knees in front of royalty, with nothing left to defend himself but his own tongue. here he is, staring in the face of at least four dozen eyes, roughly, more than one pair of arms and the most beautiful feathered frame he has ever seen, and maybe he’s a little starstruck, and maybe he’s prepared to rip up that contract and turn around and go home, if he can’t sit on this dude’s lap.
have you ever seen an alula ? what were you told of us —— of me ?
“ u - uh, not up close, ” he answers, tries hard not to stumble over his words like this is the first time he’s ever had a crush ; but he’s so distracted by the finger and talon on his chin, and how close their faces are, and he has the most prime view of this guy’s face, even if most of it is covered by an ornate mask. he gets the most prime view of the way his feathers shake open, of the way everyone else in the room seems the gasp and bow, and hunter has no clue how rare of a sight this is but he certainly knows there must be some importance to it.
that makes it all the more captivating.
“ to be honest, i, uh … didn’t really do my homework before swinging by. ” he attempts a weak, nervous chuckle. “ yanno, i only hear rumors, and i know about that big shindig you guys throw: yanno, the one i somehow don’t get invited to. ” oh, he hopes the joke sticks. “ so i just figured i’d wing it — haha, get it ? wing it, because, uh … i don’t usually do the whole ‘ killing ’ thing — i was just cleaning some asari’s apartment five days ago — but, apparently they couldn’t get anyone else to do it, so. everyone else probably had somethin’ penciled in that day. you get it. ”
if he’s rambling, it’s only because he’s still a little bit starstruck, and he very much wants to stay alive.
“ i mean, i’d love to not die today. if i gotta cancel out of this active contract right now i gotta pick up another errand fast. a dude’s gotta eat ‘n pay rent, yanno. also, if i am the one leaving here alive, does that mean someone else is gonna get the chop ? just wondering, uh, ‘cause that’s kinda how it sounded. ”
just because the alula are not a warmongering people does not mean that they are a peaceful one. It is how they have ensured their survival, amongst countless enemies that would stop at nothing to wipe all of them out if it meant acquiring their resources, their wealth, their influence across the galaxy. ( The alula are, above all, intelligent. It is why they have been so successful in all of their endeavors ——— and, it is why they are still alive to boast about them. )
All of that aside, Tailfeather rather resents being perceived as “hostile”. Since its foundation, the leaders of Croone have worked tirelessly to ensure that the planet is one of prosperity, acceptance, and a simplified style of living that no other race has achieved since life first sparked across the cosmos. ( It’s difficult to walk on Croone without tripping over an opulent artwork, an alula drunk on aromabis, couples and threesomes — and, sometimes, even more than that — making love in the streets. The alula value hard work, ambition, entrepreneurship above all else — but, they also value knowing when and how to unwind. )
— and, none of this is to say that there are no internal conflicts amongst the alula: claims of intellectual and artistic theft, relationship disputes ( because, while the alula are free and open with affection, they mate singularly and for life ) ——— all of which are settled with leks, violent battles that take place within Croone’s grand Coliseum.
To be honest, I didn’t really do my homework before swinging by. I only hear rumors, and I know about that big shindig you guys throw: y’know, the one I somehow don’t get invited to. I just figured I’d wing it — haha, get it?
The human’s joke ruffles some feathers amongst their company — including those of Tailfeather’s own son, one of the human’s captors who twists the man’s arm into a more severe angle as punishment — but, Tailfeather finds it funny. He even laughs, gently, proffers a smile that shines beneath his mask.
❝ ——— the Afterfeather? Ah, yes. Your Commander is the only human who has ever been invited, and he never accepts. Perhaps it has soured my people’s perception of your species. ❞
He’s only teasing, although there are some who sincerely have taken offense. Tailfeather simply shrugs them off. The Commander has done far too much for all of them for Tailfeather to take his rejection to heart.
❝ Perhaps, next year, I will send his invitation to you, instead ——— although, I will need to know your name, and you will need to survive this encounter. ❞
I don’t usually do the whole ‘killing’ thing — I was just cleaning some asari’s apartment five days ago — but, apparently they couldn’t get anyone else to do it, so. Everyone else probably had somethin’ penciled in that day. You get it.
❝ You are beholden to no one, then, and go only where credits take you ——— a mercenary. ❞
A fool, his son chimes in, which prompts Tailfeather to release the human, raises his hands in a gesture to silence his son.
❝ Peace, Darkwing. I do not believe the human intends any harm. Release him. ❞
The second guard obeys without hesitation, but Darkwing’s talons are reluctant to loose their hold — only for a moment, because he is ill inclined to disobey a direct order from his prince father. Once the man is freed, Tailfeather offers a hand and a talon to help him to his feet, waves over a servant holding a platter of fresh fruit, plucks a small, dark berry from the mix and gently presses it to the human’s lips — a peace offering, a suggestive invitation.
❝ Berry? It will not harm you, I promise. These are one of our greatest exports, and I have it on good authority that your people, in particular, are quite fond of them. ❞ Tailfeather takes one for himself, waves away the servant, links two arms through one of the human’s own and begins to usher him out of the throne room. ❝ Carry on, everyone. I wish to speak to our guest in private. ❞
Tailfeather leads him down several halls, awash with grand decoration and bustling with activity and merriment, until eventually arriving at a large “bed”room — except, there is no bed, only a nest tucked into a corner, topped with stray plumage and pillows and downy coverings.
❝ You said that you do not kill people, ❞ he states as he lies himself down, pats the space beside him in a wordless invitation for the human to join him. ❝ Why, then, would you accept a contract to do so? Why did you not simply take the money and run? Perhaps you haven’t received any yet. Why did you come here, if you weren’t going to kill me? to warn me? How very noble of you, mercenary. ❞
Tailfeather places a hand on the human’s chest, tucks his mask beneath the man’s jaw, lines his throat with sweet, soft kisses.
❝ — and, before you tell me that you really were going to kill me all along, no mercenary of any clout would have allowed himself to be captured so easily. Shall we instead do something a bit more — worthwhile? ❞
With another hand, he removes his mask, pulls away to allow the man a good look at his face.
❝ ——— and, we shall see where your loyalties truly lie. ❞
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
