ZimZum Natural Heritage Museum

An amoglamation of ZimZum's lore, and some special people who live there

[zimzummuseum]

Dream #1

(These are not meant to be read in any specific order.)

Avian picked another malango and carefully dropped it into the makeshift basket at his side. He could still remember watching his lover twist together wood pieces and vine strands in his downtime, and ever since the day he had given the finished product to him, it had held up well for anything that required its use. He liked to return the meaning of the gift by bringing him fruit, because the sweet and refreshing taste always helped to fully wake him up.

He was usually the first to open his eyes in the morning, anyway, so it was a habit he never minded. On the other hand, he was glad that they found shelter so close to food and drinkable water, so far from industrialists and what the other flying mudokon called "freaks" and "strangers". They were a gang of bumbling idiots who lived on the ground floor of the forest below the high trees, always with cloths around their waists and strange paints on their faces. He also said they spoke a language entirely different from what he and Avian knew, one that crept into your head like a worm digging through mud, and you had to push them around to scare them away.

Avian was glad he hadn't yet come across these "strangers", and he figured early on that he never wanted to. Besides, he had spent enough time with his lover to determine that he was just fine with the two of them being together for the rest of their lives; it made his heart beat a little faster when he confessed that he felt the same way.

He thought about the joy of having someone by his side every time he returned to their shelter, and it was still in his mind when he got there. Ducking his wings a bit so they didn't hit the lip of the cave, he quietly moved further inside until he came to the nest they shared. It took up the majority of the space, having taken them quite a while to build.

Being on their toes as they were, watching and listening to the world around them with as much caution as possible, creating one in the first place wasn't a decision they had made lightly. He remembered his lover being more apprehensive about it, but as he became comfortable with the idea, he spent more time sleeping in longer than Avian.

As expected, he was asleep on his stomach. His wings were sprawled out on either side of him, twitching occasionally, and all that covered him from the waist down was a giant quilt made from silk and other materials that both of them had gathered. Feathers from him and Avian were dotted across the nest and the floor of the cave, evidence of their night of passionate intimacy.

Avian set down the basket and approached him with the eyes of someone who missed the person their heart had always seemed to love. He smiled, and gently brushed his paw up and down his right wing. There was something about the nimble build of both of them that he would never get tired of appreciating.

He continued to pet him, until he surprised him by pulling Avian in with a hug. He was alert enough to kiss him, which received another kiss in return, and they then spent the next few minutes with their lips never leaving each other. It was as if all that existed in the world were the moments they spent staring into the other's eyes and the growing heat between their bodies.

[zimzummuseum]

Have an egg in this trying time, rich in phosphorus, calcium, potassium, vitamin A, E and melatonin

Avian's mouth opened and closed with a slight degree of confusion for two reasons: a stranger offering him one felt different than eating them during breakfast, and the last half of what you said was completely lost on his ears. That was also why he stared at you and the small plate you held for a minute or so, before deciding to eat it anyway, since he was a bit peckish.

"Uh... Thank you."

[zimzummuseum]

🎁

To: Avian

From: Anastasia M.

*Inside the box is a 12 x12 rubik's cube*

Avian had looked at the gift box with some hesitation, as Mr. Katch was the only other person who had given him things in containers like this. And afterward, he was expected to thank the man for whatever item that would usually be taken away the moment he did something he considered "impolite". This never bothered him, of course, since he had never developed a sense of belonging for anything in this industrial world.

However, one of the things Katch successfully managed to drill into him was manners, or rather, what the industrialists around him thought to be the good behavior a pet should exhibit regardless of how they truly felt. Which was why he carefully placed the box on the bedstand beside him and just as gently removed the object inside it.

"Hm."

Sitting up a bit more, he looked at the squares closely. They seemed to be slotted tightly together, and each corner was larger than the pieces in the middle and on the edges. He would have immediately moved to check his stash for any cubes that resembled it, if not for his attention being caught by the slip of paper tied around it.

He had to squint to recognize his own name in print, probably because it was written in a language unlike the ZimZum alphabet Katch already taught him to use. But the other one was completely ineligible; in fact, the longer he tried to put the letters together by staring at them, the worse his sudden headache became. He decided to ignore it before he forced himself into having a migraine, and put it in the box so he could start solving the sides without further interruption.

[zimzummuseum]

*give rubik's cube*

Avian looked at the Rubik’s Cube then back at you, and his lips formed a small smile. He began to slide the colors back and forth, entertaining himself with the simplicity of matching them up. Enjoying puzzles like this came easy to him, because he’d found out early in his new life that colors were less difficult to understand than language.

“Thank you,” he replied, while nodding. “I like theese kinds of giffs.”

[zimzummuseum]

Avian, what do you do on your free time?

"I thy- I thy to git awey from Kash, awey from the okteegee, tho I can li- lithhen to moosick. I like Keyrah the mote. I like lithhening and laying in my bed becau- be- becaw-sss.. she theaks- thalks fath and thounns like the thongs I uthed to thing. I can thomethimes thing along, but thometimes she goes too fath and I end up juth listhenning. I like to tholve colour cube, too; I havled- have many of them in my rum- room. And I like to read picthoor-sure books. They are funnee. And I like to nap. My wings get very cozee, espekially awound winthear. And I like to figh... thomeplaces."

"I get the moth fee time on the weakend, when Kash th- ssspends more time at home."

[zimzummuseum]

PORTRAIT DONE BY @phantomtoff, I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH, HE IS PERFECT

Avian was born on a particularly bleak day for his tribe, one of eggs from his queen-mother's final clutch. His mother, one of the last settled queens of the flying mudokons, laid him and his siblings in secret before ordering her drones to end her life by feeding her poisoned fruit - an act of mercy to herself and the future of her people. His caretaker was one of her aging drones, and he raised the hatchlings away from the encroaching hand of the ZimZum industrial progress as best he could. Unfortunately, poor conditions and his own health affected his ability to properly care for them, leaving Avian the only member of the five eggs to survive to adolescence and not have his wings clipped for his future safety. The drone believed this was a good thing for him, because he wanted his son to have the freedom his ancestors once enjoyed to the fullest.

During this time, Avian lived in a hidden home above an untouched native settlement. He knew how to fly fast and well, because his father had prepared him to be ready for danger at a moment's notice. When he did have a few minutes to himself, he would soar through the clouds and relax as the wind brushed through his feathers, and he would sing the native songs his father taught him until his voice grew hoarse and the throat sounds were carried away by the gusts.

He was still too young to understand what loneliness could do to the mind of a flying Mudokon, a species that had evolved to rely on the serotonin gained from certain physical contact, who had large and intertwining tribes, who valued community and communication and free will. But he also didn't know what his people were like before the ZimZum industrialists drove them out of their native mountainsides and cliffs, so for the longest time he flew without a goal, traveling place to place and settling wherever he thought was safe enough. Because he had no concept of his own psychology and wasn't getting the things required to keep his brain working correctly, his early teenage years were ones of distress and depression.

Nearing the end of his juvenile years, he came across another flying mudokon that was as timid and cautious as he. What began as a friendship based on survival in numbers became two soulmates who flew together for years, living and hiding in the canyons and ruins where the smell of oil and ozone had not yet reached. They treated each other as friends and equals, and eventually as partners who explored each other's bodies in the way that their ancestors did - something special and slow and enjoyable between souls and bodies, something that is to be respected, something that brings couples (or queens and drones) together and deepens their relationship. These pleasurable moments were what Avian loved the most about their relationship, and they are what caused him to drone out during his early adulthood. Though his partner was a male-presenting flying mudokon (all flying mudokons are androdynous unless they visible mature into queens or drones).

Their breakup was the kind of betrayal that had already become commonplace, something that was ineviatble as long as industrial exotic poachers and persistent hunters existed. They were forced to separate while being chased by one such organization and its employees, and in the days of confusion and turmoil, Avian fled until he crashed into the thick and dangerous branches of a large tree. He ended up tearing his wings badly, and falling unconscious.

He awoke in a strange room filled with the smell of varnish and the aura of things that were physically dead but still around. It was one of the rooms in the family mansion of Mr. Perci Katch. He was half-starved and somewhat delierious, and he learned overtime that Katch was offering him food and shelter in exchange for him staying by his side. It was a difficult period of back-and-forth communication, because Avian could not (and still cannot) understand the Common ZimZumese language or any Industrial dialect.

Living under the man's rule into his now-adulthood, being influenced by what he sees and hears and how he is forced to talk to be respected and heard, he has developed a kind of lisping-stutter. He often apologizes each time he speaks to Katch, though the man only laughs with mock patience and corrects him until he bores of his attempts and sends him away.

He also knows his new life is surrounded by something called "comfort" and "class", but he often wonders if he unknowingly traded both for the ability to fly; ever since he was conscious enough to try, he has realized that his wings are more useful for gliding than anything else. He remembers a time when they weren't always so weak, when he could fulfill the urge his muscles have without any issue. Whenever he follows Katch to his estate in the city, Avian sits by the high windows in his free time. He has a habit of opening the glass to feel the wind brush through his feathers, remembering what it felt like to be free.

On top of missing flying freely, Avian dreams constantly of his lost lover. If he thinks hard enough, he can feel phantom warmth on his feathers where they once touched. In his sleep, his wings sometimes twitch as if straining for the other’s embrace. These dreams are both blessing and tormenting, because whenever he awakes he remembers how alone he now is; though the selling, purchasing, and owning of flying mudokons is prominent between the ZimZum elite, an entire new branch of exploittation that he does not know of, he has not come across another of his kind in all the years he has spent with Katch. He believes that as long as his lover still breathes, and if he ever hears him call for him again, he will answer even if it means falling to his death.