blue canary in the outlet by the light switch

[burntvideocassette]

Who: (Blue) Jay Merrick + You
Where: Media club + the woods behind the gym
When: August 3rd to 6th
Rating: PG (May change)
Summary: This half-plucked blue jay may not be the greatest student, but he's got interests beyond the classroom.
The Story:

Media Club:

Wherever he ends up getting into college, Jay's going to major in film. That's basically a given, though it's not because because he's a brilliant filmmaker. He likes movies, sure, and he likes learning the minutiae that go into making them. It's not exactly a passion, but it's something, and it's adjacent to his other interests.

There isn't a major in paranormal research, though--he checked--so his best chance at college prep is within the school's media club.

They're showing off their personal projects this week. Jay's got a sharpie-marked DVD under his wing. Anybody like amateur documentaries?

The Woods:

The game's already over, and the lights on the athletic field have been turned off. Nobody in their right mind would still be here this late on a school night, no matter how many questions they had for their AP physics teacher.

Jay's heard rumors, though, stories about people in the classrooms adjacent the woods seeing a too-tall silhouette between the trees. Some people say it's just a malformed tree trunk. Others say it's a human. Still others say it looks more like a water-bird, like some kind of crane, though it's taller than any crane they've ever met. Paler, too, with bleach-white feathers standing out against the leaves.

Whatever it is, Jay intends to get it on film.

Comments

woods

[postictal]

Tim is waking up in the woods.

He blinks beady crow's eyes up at the sky and stumbles awkwardly upright, one wing fluttering at an odd angle before he realizes, in the attempt to fold it to his body, that he must have injured it in some way. In some way that he...can't remember.

Another lapse.

Great.

He starts to move with short, rapid hops - more or less wandering aimlessly in an attempt to run into a landmark he recognizes, and then figure his way back home from there. He's not especially expecting to run into anyone.

Yet.

woods

[like247]

Rules are literally there to be broken. So tell Wendy she's not supposed to be out there at night? Well, she is. Tell her that she's not supposed to be looking for humans?

Oh yeah, definitely looking.

What she finds instead is someone hopping along on the ground beneath her. Not a human lurking in the trees, but more entertaining than nothing. She hops along the branch she's on, mirroring them.

At least until she shifts, drumming her beak against the branch she's on, hoping to stay hidden behind some foliage.

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There's a noise above him, and he's moving before he's even gotten a chance to think. Patchy wings beat furiously against the leaf litter, barely enough to offset the weight of the camera and the bag of supplies slung across his back.

He takes off at an angle, fluttering crookedly a few inches above the ground until he manages to find cover. It's not much, just a tangled mess of ferns, but at least it's put something between him and whatever's up above.

He's heard stories--stories of birds gone feral, serial murderers with their talons sharpened to razor-points, swooping down from above to snap up innocent hikers. Worse, he's heard stories of humans who took to the treetops once they lost control of the land, scaling to heights once thought impossible, smashing eggs in their nests and ripping out grown birds' feathers. Maybe they're just urban legends, but Jay's not ready to take that chance.

[like247]

Whatever reaction Wendy is hoping for it, it is no nearly as satisfying as the result she gets. Though maybe she should feel bad about sending an injured bird scurrying, but the prank itself has to be upheld, doesn't it?

Turning her head, she grasps a leaf with her beak and drops it, letting it flutter to the ground even as she moves to glide around to the other side of the tree, trying to avoid being seen as best she can.

Then, settling in, she does it again. That rapid fire tapping one more.

[burntvideocassette]

Jay watches the leaf (Is he sure it's a leaf?) twist slowly to the ground.

He very nearly steps out from the patch of ferns to get a closer look, when--

Rrrrrrat-a-tat-tat...tat...tat.

He jolts further into the leaves. Some kind of machinery? A woodpecker? But no woodpecker should be out this late. Besides, there's phones, there's grocery stores, there's civilization. Nobody needs to be drumming on trees anymore; that was the whole point of overthrowing humanity. (At least, that's what his parents told him.)

Whatever the hell's going on, it's obviously not normal. Good thing the camera's rolling.

[like247]

Oh she most certainly should not be out there that late, but how can she resist such a moment? Even if it might mean revealing herself?

Considering her options, she makes her way to the edge of the furthest branch she can reach. It bobs and sways, her talons clutching tightly to it. Which does little good as the branch snaps.

She topples, barely catching herself with a rapid fluttering of her wings to not come crashing to the ground.

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Jay freezes.

He stares out from between the ferns.

It's not a monster. It's just a bird. (Unless, obviously, it just looks like a bird. Maybe it'll turn around and have no eyes or human teeth or something.)

"You, uh." He doesn't get any closer. "You okay?"

[like247]

Her talons dig into the earth, giving herself a hard shaking to rustle her feathers and try and get them back in place. Looking downright frustrated and upset because she fell.

Glancing up, with normal eyes and teeth and not at all looking happy, she bobs her head.

"Yeah, I guess. Are you? I mean, you didn't look okay."

Nope, totally wasn't doing anything to scare him. Nope. Act perfectly normal.

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"'M fine," Jay says, a little too quickly.

He cocks his head, not getting any closer. At least she doesn't have teeth.

"Why all the noise?" His eyes widen for a moment, realizing that might not be the only possible explanation. "That was you, right?"

absolutely superb you funky little death omen (cw: brief gore)

[burntvideocassette]

He's got the chest cam turned to the infrared setting, not that it's doing him any good without a viewfinder. There's a flashlight in his bag, but he doesn't have a foot free to carry it. Between the weight of his supplies and the camera and the missing flight feathers scattered across his wings, it's unlikely he's going to take off anytime soon. For now, all he has for navigation are the uneven patches of moonlight between the branches.

There's something in here with him.

With a clumsy flutter, Jay ducks into a bush, peering out between the leaves. Is this it? Is it that easy?

There's a shadow, an uncanny dragging sound against the dry brush. It's too small, he thinks--he thinks--but that doesn't do anything to explain what it's doing out here. Maybe he's found something else. Maybe he's found something better.

(Or maybe he's found a knife-wielding maniac, one with talons and a curved beak, and his gutted corpse is going to show up on the third page of tomorrow's paper. Could go either way.)

[postictal]

The shadows work to a crow's advantage, and everyone knows it. Maybe that's what has him looking so damn shifty. Suspicious, just by nature. He keeps opening his good wing, working it up and out in an attempt to boost himself into the air, even for a moment, and primarily out of instinct.

You can guess how that keeps ending.

Tim, he's not okay. He's never really been okay. Too jumpy. Too nervous. Too predisposed to things like cold shivers and sleepless nights. He doesn't entirely trust that it's not just him when he turns, scanning the shadowed woodland in search of the source of the pair of eyes he thinks he feels on the back of his neck.

"Hello?" It's thin and wavering, and the slightest bit scared.

[burntvideocassette]

And then the shadow speaks.

"Tim?"

His brain makes the connection in an instant, and it's out of his mouth before he's had a chance to consider the potential risks. Sure, this could be Tim from third period physics, or it could be a sound-alike with a similar silhouette. Or worse, it could be Tim, but he could be out here for the wrong reasons. Jay's not sure what the wrong reasons are, but he knows they're not anything he wants to get mixed up in. (At least not tonight, not when his mom's already probably freaking out 'cause he hasn't called home yet.)

Or maybe Tim's lost, and Jay's the only one who can lead him out. Maybe he could hold the flashlight, and they could both call it a night. Better, maybe Tim wants to help him. Maybe he's just as curious.

Maybe he's watched too many movies.

Jay shuffles in the dry leaves, bracing himself for--for something.

[postictal]

He recognizes his name, but not the voice saying it. Tenses, tight-coiled and automatic. His good wing flops awkwardly as he flares it out, tries to refold it to his side again.

It's not clear to him what's better or worse: waking up here, or in the nurse's. Yet again.

"Who's there?" Tries to say it louder, sound braver than he actually is. Pretend enough, and you might even start to believe it. Lie well enough, and it becomes armor.

[burntvideocassette]

Jay winces. It's louder than anything he's heard since the game let out, and closer.

"Jay."

He's given up his position already, so it's not like it's worth staying hidden. He steps out from inside the bush. He's not sure he looks normal, exactly, but he's hoping the chest-mounted camera doesn't put Tim off. He's also hoping that, if Tim's got any dangerous ideas, he hasn't noticed how Jay's supplies are weighing him down.

"Not--not a jay, but, like, I am, but, I mean--Jay Merrick. From physics."

[postictal]

Did he attend physics today? He doesn't remember. There's a lot he doesn't remember - too many gaps in his memory, too many holes in all his thoughts. But the little red blinking light is unmistakable, and even if the night dyes his feathers indigo, there's only one bird who mounts a camera to his chest.

"What're you doing here?" He starts off on the defensive, sharp and accusing - maybe not the best choice, but if it preempts the same kind of questions being levered at him, it's for the best.

Especially because he doesn't know how he'd answer.

[burntvideocassette]

What's he doing here?

"What? I'm out here looking--"

It's not that he's ashamed, exactly. It's not that he's embarrassed, it's just that this kind of thing makes him a target. He's learned from one too many stupid questions in biology class, one too many times caught peering through the window into the woods, one too many times having his book snatched out of his hands and tossed into the dumpster behind the kitchens. And Tim's quiet, sure. He's not exactly one of the popular kids, but that just means Jay's not sure where he stands.

"--nothing, I..."

Jay cocks his head, peering into the dark.

"What's up with your wing?"

[postictal]

"I...fell on it."

As far as lies go, it's not his best. It also might not be entirely incorrect; he honestly doesn't know what happened to it, or whether he landed on it, or what.

He's seen him around, he's willing to bet, but he can't be sure. It's too dark to know for certain, and the blinking red light keeps drawing his gaze. The slightly tremulous pitch of his voice strikes Tim as familiar, but it's impossible to tell. If he could just close his eyes, if he could just think...

"I know you, don't I?"

Woods

[ssmisery]

[On this particular excursion, we will give Jay this much credit: the bird he's come across is a wader, though she's nowhere near tall enough to be even an ordinary crane. This cute little sandpiper is a semi-recent transfer student, and therefore has as much business being out here as he does, really. Woodlands are public property. There's nothing suspicious about that. If anything is wrong with this picture, in fact, it's the part about barging in on someone who was trying to spend some time alone.

So, anyway, Jay finds this girl out in the woods in the middle of the night with a shovel, staring at him in the dark like HE'S the asshole.]

Don't you knock?

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[What the actual long-legged hell.]

[Jay doesn't take off screaming, but he does the next worst thing; he freezes in place, instinct puffing his feathers up like the world's scraggliest pinecone.]

[A shovel? Is she burying something?]

[Wait, shit, is he next?]

Don't...? [It takes him a full ten seconds for her words to sink in.] Wait, there's no...there's no door.

[Great going. That'll definitely keep you from being filleted alive.]

[At least if he gets killed, the proof will be on camera.]

[ssmisery]

There are trees, aren't there? You can knock on wood.

[Whatever that even means, on the bright side, she still sounds annoyed on the level of "you interrupted my book" rather than the level of "time to eliminate a witness". Then again, it's not like calm people can't be dangerous, or terrifying. But at least she's bothering to talk at all, right?]

[burntvideocassette]

[Is that a...pun?]

[Did the strange girl standing around in the middle of the woods with a goddamn shovel just make a pun?]

S...sorry, what--?

[Words, Jay. Think about them before you open your beak.]

[When he finally manages to string together a coherent sentence, it's a little more forceful than he intends.]

What're you doing out here?

[ssmisery]

[The sad thing is that we may never know whether she made that pun on purpose or had a genuine misunderstanding. This line of inquiry doesn't get a response quite as immediately. Lapis shifts the shovel in her wings, which probably doesn't have to be a threatening gesture, people shift position all the time, before answering with a touch more strain under her indignation.]

What're YOU doing out here?

[burntvideocassette]

[Jay steps back, feathers ruffled.]

Getting...

[Getting footage of that thing he and some of his classmates saw out the window, but he can't exactly say that.]

[Especially if that thing turns out to have been her.]

Getting some, uh, some b-roll. For a project. But that's not--What, are you burying something?

[ssmisery]

Who says I'm burying evidence?

[Nobody said that. There's dirt on the shovel, too, although whether that's actually discernible is a question for the exact appointment of Jay's equipment and the exact capabilities of uplifted diurnal bird eyes. Speaking of which.]

And what kind of project can you possibly have out here? There's nothing to see!

[burntvideocassette]

Who--?

[Jay gestures mutely at her. Who says? Really?]

There's not nothing, I mean, there's...

[Again, Jay holds out a wing, to indicate the scene in front of him.]