This is fucking stupid.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you're, in so many words, a freak. You're about nineteen years old, and you've been trying to hide your quite obvious avian qualities from the outside world. Of course, this is nigh impossible, which drives you to stealing shit whenever possible. You live in an abandoned barn on the outskirts of some town, and you only tend to venture out into the city around night, when it's less populated; and more importantly, less dangerous. Since you've been hiding yourself for so long, you've got a bit of a bitter attitude, pissed for how you've been rewarded in life. (Spoilers: You haven't.) -runawaystuck bird!bro, independant rp account.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

Do you celebrate Valentines day?

No.

When IS it anyway.Tomorrow? 

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

ahahah

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—You sit up when he moves away and hold your chest. Holy fucking shit. You’ll be damned if that didn’t scare the shit out of you. Not literally. But still holy FUCK that was loud and high pitched. It’s not all that silent, seeing as you’re reeling over exhaling deeply in an attempt to get the breath you just lost back.—

Fuck you.

—It’s more of a half-assed mumble because you knew you deserved that. You poke one finger to your stomach, looking at it and rubbing it off on your shoulder.—

Where the dickshitting hell did you learn to scream like that?

Seriously, holy fuck.

—You weren’t paying attention to whether he sounded like a girl or not, only the volume.—

I think I just went half deaf. 

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>’Fuck you’. Oop. You really scared him.-

sorry whats that

i didnt catch it

>There was a momentary pause as you leered in his direction, then decidedly answered his question in an almost proud-like kind of way.-

cant you do that too?

its part of being a bird

thats the warning call

>You continue grinning and then sit up quickly to look at him, eyes flicking down to his stomach. There was definitely some blood leaking out of there. You guys shouldn’t have even been fighting. Looking down at yourself, you didn’t notice any blood on your own abdomen.-

alright

enough about this shit

we gotta fix you up again

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

I said FUCK YOU because holy fucking shit why did you need to scream in my ear.

--You look back at him with an expectant expression and raised eyebrows. You really don't think that was necessary. The jumping on you would have scared you as it is.--

I've never tried it.

It's been like forever literally since I tried it last.

--You look down at your stomach when he does. It's not that bad. Not too much but not just a little bit. You probably shouldn't have been fighting, no. But it was fun. Making Dave lose his cool was worth it, and always would be. Always. The thought of Dave losing his cool in general was sort of amusing.--

I'm fine.

I've had worse.

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

fuck everything

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—You close your eyes for a moment, and open them to look back down towards your wound. It’s likely you really shouldn’t be letting your guard down so easily, but you’ve got a wound to check. maybe it was bleeding a liiittle more than you thought, but you shrug it off and lean back against the couch, ignoring it. Which is again, not a good idea.—

—In that moment you swear you hear the creek of a door, but you pass it off as your own imgination. Agaaain. Bad bad idea.—

—And you’re not expecting this. Dave to reach the couch and jump over with a screeching noise. You basically fucking SCREAM and turn around, which basically sends you to the ground, seeing as you weren’t even lying down.

Well

fuck your life.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You grin when you hear him scream like a GIRL and watching him turn only to fall nearly all the way off of the couch. You simply crawled the rest of the way over the back of the couch and take his spot, the grin only growing as you took your turn to let the silence sink in. You spoke about a minute or two later, the amusement seeping from each word.-

that was pretty

cute

>Glancing down towards him, you noticed his stomach seemed to be bleeding again and decided that as soon as you were done gloating you would force him to change the bandages. Or do it yourself. Whatever it took really, because you weren’t going to let him die due to ignorance.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--You sit up when he moves away and hold your chest. Holy fucking shit. You'll be damned if that didn't scare the shit out of you. Not literally. But still holy FUCK that was loud and high pitched. It's not all that silent, seeing as you're reeling over exhaling deeply in an attempt to get the breath you just lost back.--

Fuck you.

--It's more of a half-assed mumble because you knew you deserved that. You poke one finger to your stomach, looking at it and rubbing it off on your shoulder.--

Where the dickshitting hell did you learn to scream like that?

Seriously, holy fuck.

--You weren't paying attention to whether he sounded like a girl or not, only the volume.--

I think I just went half deaf. 

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

fuCK

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What no I’m not.

—You cross your eyes just to make sure. Even then, you can’t tell, so you shrug. Oh well. You move one hand over your stomch to just rest there, in attempt to stop it from bleeding in some way or another. You’ll have to rewrap these.—

—You lose the serious expression when he catches on, and you laugh again. You’re smiling so hard it hurts by this point.—

No you don’t.

You’re just angry because you lost your cool, coolkid.

—Laughing, you turn back to the couch. You know when you’re not wanted. Like REALLY not wanted. That would be now, wouldn’t it? Slamming the door and hearing the faint music from his headphones. You turn around, cupping a hand to your mouth.—

This will now be known as the day that Dave Strider lost his cool, by the way!

—THEN you go back to the couch, ultimately letting your guard down.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You wait about five minutes before leaving your headphones on your bed, making it seem like you are still listening to music. Opening your door very carefully, you glance down the hall, slowly making your way back towards the main room and kitchen intersection.-

>You were as silent as a ninja. As a mouse. Even quieter than that, because bird people can hear mice. The quietness of you right now could fill up an entire galaxy, because that’s how much quiet you were being. It made sense in your head and that is all that matters.-

…

>When you reach the area behind the couch, you jump over it and make a very loud SCREECHING sound.-

>If that didn’t work, then you weren’t sure what would.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--You close your eyes for a moment, and open them to look back down towards your wound. It's likely you really shouldn't be letting your guard down so easily, but you've got a wound to check. maybe it was bleeding a liiittle more than you thought, but you shrug it off and lean back against the couch, ignoring it. Which is again, not a good idea.--

--In that moment you swear you hear the creek of a door, but you pass it off as your own imgination. Agaaain. Bad bad idea.--

--And you're not expecting this. Dave to reach the couch and jump over with a screeching noise. You basically fucking SCREAM and turn around, which basically sends you to the ground, seeing as you weren't even lying down.

Well

fuck your life.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

And Dave lost.

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—You glance away from him to look down at your foot, back at your wrapped up wing, and to your stomach. ..Your stomach was bleeding again, but not too much. Enough to show through the bandages.. But not too much. Whatever. You’d be fine. You glance up at the laughing, arching one eyebrow as the hedgehog laughs too?? Something like that. You didn’t even know hedgehogs could laugh.—

Maybe I look beat up.

But you look worse.

You ARE red as a beet.

—You smirk again, streching out the bad foot, and stretching out your toes, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to hide a small wince.—

I’ll probably just have to chop the toes off anyway.

—Of course you’re joking, but you say it with the most serious voice, and your smirk even dropped for emphasis. Serious, serious emphasis.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

so are you

>That was a lie. But he couldn’t see himself, right? So lying was the only thing you could think of anyways. Looking at his toes, you spotted his wince right away, that smug smirk of yours faltering. Glancing at Hella Hog, you looked back at him soon enough.-

wait what

no you dont

>Straightening back up, you look concerned for a second, but then stop in mid-step.-

…

god damnit

i hate you

>Waving your hands in the air once you caught onto his stupid lie, with his stupid face, you turn away with the ‘i don’t give a fuck about anything’ look on your face and leave the room entirely to go to your room this time. Clearly, Bro wasn’t allowed to follow this time. Not. allowed. To be sure he understood, you slammed the door and grabbed a pair of headphones, blasting the music. Too much emotion for one day. Your cool was nearly dead.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

What no I'm not.

--You cross your eyes just to make sure. Even then, you can't tell, so you shrug. Oh well. You move one hand over your stomch to just rest there, in attempt to stop it from bleeding in some way or another. You'll have to rewrap these.--

--You lose the serious expression when he catches on, and you laugh again. You're smiling so hard it hurts by this point.--

No you don't.

You're just angry because you lost your cool, coolkid.

--Laughing, you turn back to the couch. You know when you're not wanted. Like REALLY not wanted. That would be now, wouldn't it? Slamming the door and hearing the faint music from his headphones. You turn around, cupping a hand to your mouth.--

This will now be known as the day that Dave Strider lost his cool, by the way!

--THEN you go back to the couch, ultimately letting your guard down.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

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—Wow. His face is really really red right now. From what you see, anyway. Had you really tickled him that long? The thought would make you smirk, if you weren’t already. You tilt your head lightly, and let out a (mocking) coo in his direction.—

Yeah right.

Bird noises aren’t even that bad dude.

Coo.

—Yet another muffled snicker and you look back down, tapping your free fingers against the counter. You find it sort of funny (what a shocker) how you’re one of the likely few selection of people that could annoy the shit out of Dave. But then again. You were you. And you could be annoying as fuck if you were to try, like you are right now. You’re not even. Unless being smug is annoying.—

No.

I thought it was prrretty funny. 

Oh wait.

It was.

Hilarious, even.

You should have seen your face.

—Okay maaaaybe NOW you’re trying. You snicker again when he pushes at your face. You hop down to the ground, careful to land on one foot. Your walking is a litle iffy, and your wing flutters on one side to keep your balance. You manage to make it towards the end of the hallway, and you just lean against the wall there, one foot propped against the wall, same smirk on your face as you watched him.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>He was even mocking you. When you made it to the kitchen, you find Hella Hog and immediately lean against the counter to drop your chin on the cold surface. He touched his nose to yours and you glanced to the side, seeing an outline of Bro who was still there. Your feathers ruffled up, able to feel his gaze on your back. Instead of immediately reacting, you start whispering to Hella Hog who spoke back in return with quiet squeaks.-

heh

>A small laugh left you as you looked at Bro again while Hella Hog seemed to give a weird wheezing noise. He was laughing. You two were like peas in a pod, which was actually really weird because he was a small animal and you were a person. Not like you cared whether people thought you could really talk to him or not. Being part animal helped.-

he said

the cripple should go lay down

you look a little beat up

we dont want your foot to fall off

>The last sentence almost didn’t fit, because it was said with slight concern, but not enough to hide the clear mocking tone in your voice.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--You glance away from him to look down at your foot, back at your wrapped up wing, and to your stomach. ..Your stomach was bleeding again, but not too much. Enough to show through the bandages.. But not too much. Whatever. You'd be fine. You glance up at the laughing, arching one eyebrow as the hedgehog laughs too?? Something like that. You didn't even know hedgehogs could laugh.--

Maybe I look beat up.

But you look worse.

You ARE red as a beet.

--You smirk again, streching out the bad foot, and stretching out your toes, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to hide a small wince.--

I'll probably just have to chop the toes off anyway.

--Of course you're joking, but you say it with the most serious voice, and your smirk even dropped for emphasis. Serious, serious emphasis.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—He looks sort of funny, curled up in the corner of the bathtub because he thought his brother was going to murder him, hands over his face because he basically just humiliated himself from peeping. You can see how it’d be embarrassing, because you’ve always kept your own peeping well under control. Your bird noises in general, that is. Your grin has shrunk down to a(n almost smug) smirk, and your talons idly tap against the edge of the tub.—

You heard me.

—You WERE being serious. It was cute. The way Dave acted all tough one moment and then suddenly he’s some writhing mass of chirping and laughing and peeping the next. (Funny too, but you’re not going to mention that. Yet.) Your smirk may be as smug as possible right now, but you’re still being serious.—

Fine, fine.

I’ll remember this though.

PS now I know your weakness.

—You grin again for a moment, and you turn around, jumping up on the edge of the sink and whipping back around, facing him with your elbow resting on your knee, and your hand against your cheek. You still look as if you’re going to laugh at him again, but you’re not.—

Never knew you had it in you to ‘peep’.

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You pulled your hands away from your face when he said he wouldn’t tell anyone, trying to regain the cool you had basically set on fire, stabbed, and thrown out the window at this point. You swear right now to yourself that you will  never let another bird sound escape you ever. Ever. They were nothing but trouble.-

it wont be my weakness for long

fucker

>As soon as she jumps to perch on the sink, you start to get up, shaking a little uncontrollably. It was probably from all of the laughing and fighting. Your ebony wings spread out, then snap in to your back, while your feet find their way out of the tub. If there was anyone who could get on your nerves right now, it was Bro. You don’t remember showing emotions or anything since.. forever. It was almost a relief, but it also irked you. A lot.-

shut up

>Walking past him, you pushed at his face simultaneously, heading towards the kitchen to find anything distracting. Like food or Hella Hog. Maybe if you were lucky, Bro would go back to being a cripple for a few more days.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--Wow. His face is really really red right now. From what you see, anyway. Had you really tickled him that long? The thought would make you smirk, if you weren't already. You tilt your head lightly, and let out a (mocking) coo in his direction.--

Yeah right.

Bird noises aren't even that bad dude.

Coo.

--Yet another muffled snicker and you look back down, tapping your free fingers against the counter. You find it sort of funny (what a shocker) how you're one of the likely few selection of people that could annoy the shit out of Dave. But then again. You were you. And you could be annoying as fuck if you were to try, like you are right now. You're not even. Unless being smug is annoying.--

No.

I thought it was prrretty funny. 

Oh wait.

It was.

Hilarious, even.

You should have seen your face.

--Okay maaaaybe NOW you're trying. You snicker again when he pushes at your face. You hop down to the ground, careful to land on one foot. Your walking is a litle iffy, and your wing flutters on one side to keep your balance. You manage to make it towards the end of the hallway, and you just lean against the wall there, one foot propped against the wall, same smirk on your face as you watched him.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—You’re honestly ecstatic about how fucking freaked out he seems to be by this all. If you weren’t as ‘mature’ as you were, you’d be laughing so hard you would probably be crying. Heh. You take a moment to look back at the door, but you quickly look back at Dave.—

—He looks terrified, and it’s so so so hard to not break that fake irritated look and laugh again. Your foot is aching by now, and if you were actually giving it all your attention you’d be falling over. But no, you’ve got your gaze set on Dave, who’s staring up at you with either narrowed eyes or wide eyes.—

—Then you lunge forward and you tickle him.

That’s it.

You tickle the fuck out of that kid.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You wished he would do whatever he was going to do already, because you can’t stand the wait anymore. Is he going to punch you? Probably. Or rip out all your feathers really slowly like he said. You don’t bother trying to move and you just stay there like a stunned deer, crimson eyes more wide than they had been before.-

jegus bro

i-

>Before you could finish your sentence, he lunged forward and it was worse than you thought. Puffing out your cheeks, you tried to remain silent, but that only lasted for a second before you were laughing uncontrollably. You tried to push him away, feathers leaving your hand in an instant, but you were laughing too hard and squirming around like some stupid school girl.-

>Chirps started to slip out between the laughing, distressed. Trying to cover your mouth, the sounds became mouthed, but still audible. Then you let out a very loud peep and you had to hide your face, because no one could ever look at you again now.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--It probably for sure looked like you were going to beat the shit out of Dave, but you don't have the heart for that. You'd never have the heart for that. Fuck, you don't even have the heart to yank out a clump of feathers, so you assume tickling will just have to suffice. Not that he'd enjoy it at all. Like you cared.--

--The same grin dances along your face at the way he puffs his cheeks out in a fruitless attempt to keep himself from laughing out loud, but of course that didn't work. Despite how much you're tickling him, you're still careful, just barely brushing the edges of your talons along his skin and not the points. That would hurt. Pushing you away definitely is not going to help in the least here. Ha.--

--You pause when he chirps, but only for a split second before continuing. There are a few guttural caws that slip out now and then, but you've got more control over that. When he peeps and hides his face, your grin grows into a wide smile, and you perch on the edge of the tub, keeping your hands hovering over him, though not touching him. You snort. That's..--

That's actually really cute.

[boibleuproductions]

[not-yet-deactivated]

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—The way he basically shut up after you began kicking the door down is kind of hilarious. Hilarious to the point where you’re laughing, almost cackling. You’re definitely not lying down, and even though your body screams for you to stop fucking kicking the door because it’s murdering your foot even more, you continue.—

—You take a couple long strides back, and wait for a minute. Or two. Three long minutes of relaxing your toes (and mainly just to paranoy Dave further) untily ou finally take THE kick and kick that goddamn door off it’s hinges. It collapses with a dull and very loud THUD, and you make your way over to the shower, mustering up an irritated look, even if you weren’t.—

—You yank open the shower curtain.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You can hear him laugh and if you weren’t a grown teen, you would probably be crying. But you were tough and brave in that tub of yours, waiting for the end. Bang. That noise filled the bathroom, bouncing off tiles and echoing against the walls. Great.-

>Silent again. Fucking hell. You squirm and occasionally peek at the door from behind the curtain, still sitting in there like a duck in open water. Or however that saying went. Anxiety was killing you.-

>Then the door was open. Then the curtain. You looked up at him, still clutching onto his feathers.-

…

sup

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--You're honestly ecstatic about how fucking freaked out he seems to be by this all. If you weren't as 'mature' as you were, you'd be laughing so hard you would probably be crying. Heh. You take a moment to look back at the door, but you quickly look back at Dave.--

--He looks terrified, and it's so so so hard to not break that fake irritated look and laugh again. Your foot is aching by now, and if you were actually giving it all your attention you'd be falling over. But no, you've got your gaze set on Dave, who's staring up at you with either narrowed eyes or wide eyes.--

--Then you lunge forward and you tickle him.

That's it.

You tickle the fuck out of that kid.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—You snicker into your fist, and toss the feather aside. You glance back, staring at the multiple feathers scattering the floor. It kind of looks like you let loose two chickens. ..Technically that was kind of correct, just seagulls/pigeons/whateverthefuck and crows instead. You bite your lip and look back, rubbing your side when you finally realize how sore it is. You kind of want to lie down, but you’ve got a door to kick open.—

—He takes a little to respond, and that gives away the fact that it sort of sounds like he actually thinks you’ll do it, even though he protests you’re likely to not actually do it. Only you’re going to.—

—The way he didn’t open the door basically seals the deal right there. You shift from foot to foot, and take another step back. Then you run forward, talons digging into the carpet to slow you down so you can shove your other foot against the door, toes curled back as far as they could go due to them still being injured. You wonder if there’s a creak, but you don’t think for long before stepping back again, and repeating the action, putting more force into this kick. It’s less experimental. You continue this action until you can hear the creak of the door coming off it’s hinges.—

—The ball is in YOUR court now.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>There it was, that silence again, making your nerves go a bit crazy. What was he doing? Did he go lay down? Maybe he passed out or something right outside the door or maybe he was calling in reinforcements. The wait was a killer, but not as much as that loud thud on the door.-

>That was you on the inside right now. Holy shit, holy shit. That’s all you could think. Then the creak and you scooted far against the back of the tub, thinking of any way to get out of this. The shower curtain was still drawn closed, obscuring your view from the door.-

>You can’t abscond. You can’t abscond.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--The way he basically shut up after you began kicking the door down is kind of hilarious. Hilarious to the point where you're laughing, almost cackling. You're definitely not lying down, and even though your body screams for you to stop fucking kicking the door because it's murdering your foot even more, you continue.--

--You take a couple long strides back, and wait for a minute. Or two. Three long minutes of relaxing your toes (and mainly just to paranoy Dave further) untily ou finally take THE kick and kick that goddamn door off it's hinges. It collapses with a dull and very loud THUD, and you make your way over to the shower, mustering up an irritated look, even if you weren't.--

--You yank open the shower curtain.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

Do you have a headcanon voice for Dirk?

((Aahhhwellthis ask came out of nowhere.

The vocalist of Ludo, maybe?)) 

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—Likewise could be said about you. It’s literally been forever (well not literally, but a long long time) since you’ve been this elated, amused, happy. Of course that was one thing about the Striders though, wasn’t it? The fact that their family members could make them happy if they tried in the blink of an eye, no matter the timeline.—

—You can just imagine him now, can’t you? Smug smirk. Narrowed eyes. An either uncaring or hunched position. Something like that. Meanwhile, there’s you. Shoulders tense, hands up near your face, sort-of-smirk-but-not-really. Again, something like that.—

—When he responds and slides another one of your feathers under the door, you reach down this time, snatching it straight from Dave’s fingers before he can even let it go. It’s pretty likely you let a set of claw-marks across the rug too. Whoops.—

Then I’ll..

Just have to break down the fucking door.

—You tap your fingers along the door once more, and move away from it, talons likely dragging the feather with them. Unless he was going to surrender, you were definitely kicking this door down.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You withdrew your hand as soon as he snatched the feather, staring at the possible claw marks on the carpet. Fucking shithead. You would rip out more of his feathers if you weren’t hiding from him right now.

>When he responds, you seem shocked for a moment, hearing the taps against the wood like warning bells. The silence was unnerving and then you thought maybe he had left, yet you could still hear him shuffling around. So, you respond, still as complacent as before.-

yeah right

>You managed to sound confident, but that door was old. Just in case, you moved into the tub and closed the curtain, as if that would help, clutching onto the feathers you have left. This could be a problem, but there was no way in hell you were willingly opening that door.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--You snicker into your fist, and toss the feather aside. You glance back, staring at the multiple feathers scattering the floor. It kind of looks like you let loose two chickens. ..Technically that was kind of correct, just seagulls/pigeons/whateverthefuck and crows instead. You bite your lip and look back, rubbing your side when you finally realize how sore it is. You kind of want to lie down, but you've got a door to kick open.--

--He takes a little to respond, and that gives away the fact that it sort of sounds like he actually thinks you'll do it, even though he protests you're likely to not actually do it. Only you're going to.--

--The way he didn't open the door basically seals the deal right there. You shift from foot to foot, and take another step back. Then you run forward, talons digging into the carpet to slow you down so you can shove your other foot against the door, toes curled back as far as they could go due to them still being injured. You wonder if there's a creak, but you don't think for long before stepping back again, and repeating the action, putting more force into this kick. It's less experimental. You continue this action until you can hear the creak of the door coming off it's hinges.--

--The ball is in YOUR court now.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—You’re mad. Sort of. You’re angry as fuck really about all the feathers torn from your body, but you’re also elated and all sorts of happy at the same time. It is just like old times, and it feels good. You bang your fist on the door again.—

—Dave might as well be ten again and you might as well be some other young age, like fifteen or twelve or something, because the two of you are definitely acting like it. Your face isn’t set in that smug grin, but more so in an amused smirk.—

—When he sticks the feather through the door, you promptly slam your good foot on it, digging your obnoxiously long talons into it. Wowee, guess who’s never trimmed their nails in a life time? (Literally, too. That’s the sad thing.) You probably look like a raptor or something. Your feet, you mean.—

—Your clawed fingers tap against the door, and you lean against it, ear pressing against it as you do so. You clear your throat quietly, and call out to him, your voice almost sing-song.—

Little bird, little bird, let me come in.

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You were probably the happiest you have been in a long time and with no one around to watch, you could literally be yourself right now. You noticed some spots of blood on the floor and shook out your wings, shrugging to yourself. No pain, on gain. Or something witty like that.-

>Of course, that happy look could only look smug right now, not like he could see, but he probably knew. That infamous smirk and the mischievous glint in narrowed crimson eyes. It was like you two were in gradeschool.-

>You almost jump back when you see the tips of his talons from the crack of the door, because holy shit, they were long and sharp. There was no way you were opening the door now, he would probably rip your feathers all off in one swipe of his raptor foot.-

>Listening to him shift around, you slowly scoot closer to the door to speak.-

not by the feathers of my chiney chin chin

>With that, you slid another one of his feathers under the door.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--Likewise could be said about you. It's literally been forever (well not literally, but a long long time) since you've been this elated, amused, happy. Of course that was one thing about the Striders though, wasn't it? The fact that their family members could make them happy if they tried in the blink of an eye, no matter the timeline.--

--You can just imagine him now, can't you? Smug smirk. Narrowed eyes. An either uncaring or hunched position. Something like that. Meanwhile, there's you. Shoulders tense, hands up near your face, sort-of-smirk-but-not-really. Again, something like that.--

--When he responds and slides another one of your feathers under the door, you reach down this time, snatching it straight from Dave's fingers before he can even let it go. It's pretty likely you let a set of claw-marks across the rug too. Whoops.--

Then I'll..

Just have to break down the fucking door.

--You tap your fingers along the door once more, and move away from it, talons likely dragging the feather with them. Unless he was going to surrender, you were definitely kicking this door down.--

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

attempt two

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

—Okay, you’ll admit you definitely did not see that coming. When he grabs your feathers, your eyebrows arch and you honestly weren’t expecting him to PULL THEM ALL OUT AND FLEE. In response to this, you let out a rather loud squawk and an inhale of breath so sharp you sound like you’re dry heaving when you exhale. JESUS TITTYFUCKING CHRIST THAT HURT.—

—You stumble to your feet, leaning against the couch for balance (your toes are still sort of kind of broken and bandages), but you decide you don’t need it, so you push yourself away. You’re limphopping a little, but you manage to make it to the door about two seconds after he does (with the help of flashstepping), and you lean against it, slamming your fist on the door.—

I am SO going to get you back for this!

—There’s probably a shitton of angry/amused/pained chirps and caws spews from your mouth, unbidden.—

[shitletshaveapplejuice]

>You quickly lock the door as soon as you are inside and sit down on the floor to stare in the door’s direction. He seemed pretty mad out there. Guess you would have to become a hermit yourself and live in the bathroom forever.-

>Holy shit, your heart was pounding, your eyes were wide, and your breathing was quick. Yet you were /still/ grinning, as happy as ever, like a kid who stole candy from a store and got away.-

hahaha

>Licking your dry lips, you let that laugh slip out like a wry snicker. There was no way you were getting out of there anytime soon. Sticking one of his feathers underneath the door, you slid it out towards the other side, taunting him.-

[timaeusfeatheryfied-blog]

--You're mad. Sort of. You're angry as fuck really about all the feathers torn from your body, but you're also elated and all sorts of happy at the same time. It is just like old times, and it feels good. You bang your fist on the door again.--

--Dave might as well be ten again and you might as well be some other young age, like fifteen or twelve or something, because the two of you are definitely acting like it. Your face isn't set in that smug grin, but more so in an amused smirk.--

--When he sticks the feather through the door, you promptly slam your good foot on it, digging your obnoxiously long talons into it. Wowee, guess who's never trimmed their nails in a life time? (Literally, too. That's the sad thing.) You probably look like a raptor or something. Your feet, you mean.--

--Your clawed fingers tap against the door, and you lean against it, ear pressing against it as you do so. You clear your throat quietly, and call out to him, your voice almost sing-song.--

Little bird, little bird, let me come in.