[Training] bird is the word

Amalia

Having large wings that hold up a human body is very different from being an owl.

Thus far, Amalia has succeeded in flight thanks to instinct and experience. She has the basics: move upward, maneuver a little, land (sometimes) without crashing- but her skill set ends about there. Her wings are large and ungainly, difficult to keep track of and easy to misplace. They catch gusts of wind she didn't realize were blowing, tear through her shirt if she wears one with a back. They're more of a hazard than a help at this point.

Luckily, she knows someone who can help.

Amalia stands at the edge of the cliff in shorts and a halter top, her back to the house. The wings she's so desperate to master are extended at her sides, feathers dancing as they catch the sea breezes, threatening to send her sprawling to the ground. It's a beautiful summer morning and the wind combats the heat, but even so the Shield can feel sweat beginning to bead upon her forehead, under her plait of hair.

Turning to Remi, she raises an eyebrow. "Okay. How do I use these things?"

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

"Well think of everything that you have been doing...and then do the opposite." The alchemist chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his pale sea-stare. Like Amalia, Remi wears very little given how hot the days have become. He stands in just shorts, having not even bothered with shoes. With his own wings outspread, he seems much more at ease with the winds buffeting against his feathers than Amalia does. Then again he's had time to build up the necessary muscles to make this partial-shift seem elegant instead of unwieldy.

"It's probably harder to do since you're more you now, than you are as an owl, but stop thinking of your wings as appendages. You don't think of your legs as two separate things when you walk. You just...walk. It's one action, not all the micro-movements that make it happen." The alchemist explains patiently. In truth, he's quite happy about this lesson. He's taught others to fly in their shifts, but this is a new experience for him.

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Amalia

"We're supposed to be talking about flying, not my life." For all the dry irritation in her tone, she meets his pale stare with warm amusement, her own almond eyes glittering in the morning light.

Turning back to the horizon, the Shield lets her eyes fall shut as the wind whips through her feathers and hair. It makes sense what he's saying, to think of the wings as part of her, and yet they still feel so foreign. Just like everything else that's happened, all the changes that have occurred to her.

It's right, but it still takes adjustment.

"Right. One movement." Inhaling deeply, Amalia retracts the wings back towards her body; exhaling she lets them extend with her breath, splaying out like the air from her lungs-

-And directly into the Lullaby.

"Oops."

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

"Oh, oh. Look, she's funny in the morning, now." The alchemist quips back in just as dry of a tone, though like Amalia his gaze belies his true feelings about it.

Not expecting to be slapped quite like that, Remi faulters to the side slightly, his own wings rising defensively upward as he shoots the Shield an unimpressed look. "No, not like this." He grumbles, flexing his wings back out that he might shove at Amalia's shoulder with one. "But like this." Rather grandly (and surely not for show), Remi's wings fan outward instead of flexing. The muscles of his shoulders and along his sides also ripple and expand with the motion. It was one movement as he told her, but flight wouldn't come just from her wings.

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Amalia

"For all that my shifts might suggest otherwise, I've always been a morning person. Comes with the territory." Being a baker has always meant early mornings, preparing breakfast for those who would need it and watching the town wake up. Amalia has learned to love the dawn, the pale light that casts the world in a hazy, ethereal glow. Even now her cheeks are flushed with delight at the rising day, a crown of marigolds blooming in her hair as greeting to the sun.

Flashing a bright, apologetic grin to the Lullaby as her wing collides with him, Amalia doesn't expect to be shoved in return. Stumbling slightly, the Shield again splays her wings in an attempt to regain her balance, though this time her arms raise instinctively as well.

Once her feet are back under her, the Shield turns to Remi again. He's extending his wings in a fluid motion, and she watches carefully as musculature ripples through his entire body, showing the involvement of far more than just wings. Inhaling slowly, Amalia makes an attempt to emulate her friend, her own large wings expanding, her focus on the way the rest of her body moves in response. "Like this?" she asks, her own sides slowly moving and expanding, visible beneath the cut of her top.

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi is just...a person-person. There is no time of the day he's more awake or alert. He's worked all sorts of hours, having rarely settled anywhere long enough to tend toward the night or the day. With Aoife he supposed he'd been a morning person, given how early she liked to rise. But that felt like many years ago, now.

Grinning at Amalia as she rebalances, Remi offers her an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. I'm used to Ronin." He explains. But the Shield clearly isn't the Star (they aren't slinging playful commentary at one another, nor did the shove unravel into a shoving match that would no doubt end in sex), and he needs to keep that in mind. Strong as Amalia is, there are still many parts of her that are fragile while they heal.

Glancing at her, his eyes scanning her body for the muscular lines it boasts rather than her other assets, the alchemist nods. "Aerodynamically flight like this is...well, probably not meant to be." After all when one looked in the natural world, animals with wings simply weren't built the way he and Amalia currently were. "So while birds might not have to engage their core muscles to fly, you're certainly going to have to." He adds with a laugh.

"Are you ready to try? You can always shift if it goes wrong, or I'll catch you."

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Amalia

Grumbling something under her breath, the Shield grins in turn at Remi, her wings tucked demurely at her side for now. The explanation of human flight not being aerodynamic is consistent with her experiences; the girl nods along, flapping her wings experimentally and feeling the way the muscles of them simply are not enough. "It was so easy as an owl," Amalia complains quietly, remembering learning to fly in desperation to rescue Jyoti from her fall. "Why must everything be so hard?"

But the girl is ready for all her complaining, nodding to the Lullaby. "You'll have to catch me," she points out. "All I have are the qilin and leopard." No birds, nothing naturally winged.

Just this.

Extending the wings in preparation, Amalia looks to her friend. "Okay, captain. What do I do?"

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

"Keeps life interesting, I suppose." The alchemist replies of everything in life being hard. It's an entirely unhelpful answer and they both know. But they also both know Ama wasn't really soiciting life advice anyway.

"Ah. I see you received the same...culling that I did." It's strange to hear bitterness so ready on Remi's tongue, but he doesn't bother to hide it. For all that he is now, for all that he's gained, Remi has always been a shape-changer at heart. That he's called a different word here makes little difference. His soul is more animal than man in many ways, and being confined to exist in this body for most of the time feels like a harsh penalty to satisfy the whims of the gods.

But actually it's a bit of a relief to know that Amalia received the same treatment.  "Ronin..didn't, obviously. It's nice to know that it wasn't just me." He says with a slow smile, before turning his back to the cliff.

"You do your best not to fall. But if you do, I'll catch you. Keep your eyes up. You already know how to fly, only this time you can't quite let your instincts take over. But don't let your mind ruin what your body already somewhat knows how to do." So saying, the alchemist tips the Shield a wink before letting himself lean backward. It's only a moment of freefall before he catches himself on a warm thermal, wings wide and steady, gliding out and up.

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Amalia

"Culling? I suppose." Amalia does not feel the loss as acutely: she was not born into shape changing, and though she feels her soul in each shift, it is always the leopardess she has felt most attuned to. Still, she understands how it would leave a hole, her smile empathetic. "Not just you. I can still speak to them - animals, and companions. But I feel almost like I'm re-learning how to be Attuned." Limited speech and her partial shifting delayed for so long have been challenges, to be sure.

When Remi turns around, Amalia expects... well, she's not sure. To be walked through more wing-flapping, or musculature. Not to be told not to let her mind take over - "That's kind of my thing," she murmurs wryly - or for him to suddenly fall, flipping back off the cliff and vanishing from view.

It's only a second before he's back in her sight, but in that second Amalia feels her heart leap into her throat. Walking to the edge of the bluffs herself, the baker looks down to the water below then back up at the sky. "Vi, guide me," the Shield murmurs under her breath--

--then steps off into the wind and air, free-falling a moment before catching a thermal, her body unsteady as her legs dangle awkwardly below, forcing her to double her efforts as she fights against the drag

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

I know it is, Remi's smile says as he disappears backward, silent except for the hum of the sea as it crashes against the rocks below.

As amused and boyish as the alchemist might appear to be, he is perfectly ready to dart toward this near-sister of his should she show any signs of becoming un-airborn. "Think of it like swimming!" He calls to her, voice carrying easily over the sea as he watches her limbs scramble through the air. 'You wouldn't flounder like that if you were trying to swim, would you?" No. She would have long and easy strokes, which is what she desperately needed if she was going to remain aloft. Of course one's instinct in the air as much as in the water was to simply throw every appendage in every direction with as much energy as one had to offer, but rarely did that ever help.

"Fly to me—" Remi offers, hands outstretched outward the Shield that she might have some goal to fix her mind on.

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Amalia

Not the most helpful advice, especially given their last foray into the sea together. "I'm not very good at swimming!" Amalia calls back, her voice strangled by the effort of holding up her body. Without hollow bones she is significantly heavier than ever as an owl, and the addition of arms is far less helpful than she might have initially thought.

Owl. Arms. She is a woman with wings, not an owl with arms, but she hasn't been thinking about her body that way.

Grimacing, Amalia closes her eyes and tries to imagine her entire body as part of the vehicle of flight. From head to legs, each part is important, and though it takes muscles she is not accustomed to using in this way the girl is strong and lithe, surprisingly agile when the situation arises.

Focusing on using her strength in a way that is conservative and constructive, the Shield finds that she is finally moving towards Remi in a straight (ish) line, her now-open onyx gaze glittering with delight and pride as she reaches for his outstretched hand, exclaiming, "I- I think I'm getting it!"

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

"Alright, well...I'm all out of metaphors, then" Remi replies with a laugh and a boyish shrug. Perhaps he should have known better, what with Amalia's recent near-drowning and the lack of water in the Grounds, but it seemed a natural enough comparison.

As Amalia makes her way through the air toward him, the smile on the alchemist's face is one of genuine pride and delight in the Shield's accomplishment. She is a long way from graceful flight, but the baker seems to be nothing if not a quick and attentive learner.

Though most birds are not able to fly backward, Remi is not most birds. Letting his fingertips brush against Amalia's, his golden wings arc as they beat, dragging him slowly away from her and upward slightly so that she has to try and turn as well as rise into the air after him. "This will be good for you, I think." He says through his smile. "A lesson in not overthinking things, as much as it is in flying."

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Amalia

His hand is in reach and then it's not, pulled away in increments so she needs to chase him through the sky, pursuing him with her own wingbeats as they glide upon the wind. She can feel it now, identify it better, the shifts and changes that she was so familiar with when she took an owl's shape. Each feather tells a story, informing her of what to expect before it happens.

She's grinning as she beats the wings  a little harder, spinning slightly and laughing as she adjusts to catch her balance. "Someone has to actually think things through," she shoots back, reaching out to try and snag at his feathers or feet. "You're it!"

And then she folds her wings and drops, opening them up again only as she nears the surface of the sea.

she was so delicate

yet bursting with energy

kind of like a shattered star

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

"Oh, and that someone is going to be you?" The alchemist chuckles back, knowing that between the two of them just maybe they're capable of thinking things through should push come to shove. Hopefully, it doesn't though.

As she names him it, the Lullaby waits a few seconds that she, the smaller of them, might have time to flap herself away. It's only when he thinks she's a reasonable distance—a fair(er) one—that he dives after. Quite the choice, to ask a predator to chase you. Remi thinks, his mental voice sly with mischief and thus far free of any sort of danger.

Darting low, the Alchemist will conjure the ghostly shape of his hawk shift in front of the Shield, hoping it'll make her swerve. Continuing to dive, he'll try and brush his hand against her shoulder, thus making her it.

THE ALCHEMIST

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing