Bird: Part Two
#2 of Bird
Bird is interrogated: unfortunately, Aoife's methods are somewhat more invasive that he'd have liked.
_ On The Subject Of Angels _
Angels are, by their nature, a reclusive people. In order to find them one would have to climb the highest mountains and dodge their numerous defensive precautions, or swim out to islands surrounded by sharp rocks and treacherous waters.
This wish for privacy and seclusion comes out of desire for absolute safety; in past years angels as a whole have suffered issues at the hands of others for the sake of their bizarre appearances and, moreover, their customs.
Angels, it is believed, came from a mix of avian and primate breeding, though after some years they evolved to be far different from both of these progenitors. Over time their natural fur and feathers receded, leaving their flesh utterly bare, somewhat in the fashion of swine's skin, except for hair that usually forms upon their heads in dark shades, as well as over their brow.
Their skin tends to be the same colour for the majority of their body - this colour can vary from a tan brown to Tiger's eye to a deep onyx - though here, at the base of the wings, begins a scale-like flush of colours decorates the back from the shoulders down to the mid thighs.
The colours of these scales will match the feathers of the angel's wings, which are known to vary widely, though so long as each angel is eating and drinking well a healthy sheen will show on the feathers themselves.
The wings sprout from the shoulder blades but beyond these, angels are more average, with two legs and two arms, five fingers on each hand. Roughly half of angels develop breasts, though their genitals are not so uniform - individual angels can vary vastly from others in terms of genitalia.
Gender cannot be reasonably assumed from an angel's genitalia as it is not formally understood amongst their people - it is best simply to inquire as to pronouns if one does not wish to offend and/or perplex one.
Regardless of this, no angels carry progeny in the way most species do: no angel has ever been observed either laying an egg or carrying young, and it is partly for this reason, as well as their hairless exoticism, that they are viewed highly as "pets" by black market skin traders, though this immoral practice has thankfully decreased a thousandfold in recent years.
Due to their complex hierarchical structure and of course, their initial isolation, angels prove very difficult to study. However, some angels are separated from their kin, often alone. This happens not unregularly - angels will fall from flocks with their families and in amongst other populations whilst travelling, or they will be captured.
Angels are very adaptative people, and subsequently...
"Aoife!" Daniella doesn't knock. It's not in her nature to knock before entering a room, nor will it ever be in her nature to follow Aoife's orders if it does not suit her entirely. For all that, Aoife doesn't completely mind: Daniella's sheer quality of service makes up for any insubordination she could possibly commit.
Aoife sets the text aside, marking her place with one of Bird's flight feathers, and she feels slight relish at the way his eyes follow the green even as she closes the book. The lioness grins, and then looks to Daniella.
She pushes the boy forwards, her hand flat between his wings in order to make him trip; Daniella looks more than satisfied to see the boy fall to his knees with a quiet yelp.
"Thank you." Daniella nods and then leaves, closing the door behind her. "So,Bird." He looks up at her, and yes, those green eyes are_startlingly_ pretty, aren't they? What a charming little thing he is. "Get up. Sit here."
He does, and he spreads his wings as he stands - fascinating, how he uses them for balance. Even then, he stumbles slightly, despite the angels' reputation for grace above all things.
But then, his flight feathers are all clipped away, and some of the others had been damaged too, so it's understandable that he might not _hold up_to such expectations.
He settles on the stool - it's replaced the usual chair that she sets before her desk, to accommodate his extra limbs, and he looks up at her, silent, his lips pursed and his expression attentive.
"Eat." She pushes a plate in front of him, and he looks at it in silence. It is fruit, grapes and chopped pieces of peach, apple and orange. He reaches out and takes a piece, eating it carefully and ensuring not to drop any of the sweet juices into his lap.
"You've read extensively." He says, and his voice is serene, more than she could ever have expected - he speaks quietly, and yet his voice carries some sort of melodic resonance that makes it hang in the room's air. It is beautiful, powerful in the subtlest way and with an accent laying slant to each word_,_ and she imagines it inspires some awe amongst the people he meets: no wonder he speaks so little. His people are tended to modesty, and dislike to be followed and pestered. "This is a good meal."
They're light creatures, and anything heavy - meat and milk are too much for their digestion, and angels feed best on nectar and fruit, and little water where possible.
"Yes, well, we've got to keep you happy." Aoife murmurs, and she grins at him, watching him with some fascination. "You were on a ship - the Goldsmith, coming in from Hopper's Isle with bananas."
"Yes." He agrees, and he pops a grape into his mouth; his lips are plump and obscene around the fruit, and her lip twitches.
"Under Captain Kelly?" He furrows his brow, just slightly.
"John?" He queries.
"Captain John Kelly, yes." And with that, he nods.
"This is why you laid chase upon my trail? For so many days, because I worked on John's ship? You are assassins, and yet I live still - is _this_because of my captain?" His brows are furrowed, and he looks to her with some confusion, the frown on his face both perplexed and fatigued.
"Yes." She says simply.
"He is an honourable man."
"Perhaps." She shrugs. Honour means little when you're hired to murder people. "I don't care about that. I've been hired to find his treasure."
"Treasure?" The angel repeats, and it is with some confusion: his head tilts and his expression is innocent. No emotion shows on that lovely face except a slight befuddlement.
"Valuables. Gold, silver, emeralds, and so on." He understands that, at least, and he gives a slow nod. She notes a slight flinch as he does so - still in pain, still aching, but that will be so for a while yet.
"I do not know the location of these things." He says, and she's certain he's being honest. Well, that's just too bad. She does not see fear on his face: that seems to have faded after last night - and no, she definitely wants to do something about that.
"Any places he might have visited in secret?" He tilts his head, thinking. Bird had liked John immensely - he had fallen from a great height and landed on the deck of the other's ship with unpleasant injuries, but he had been nursed back to health swiftly enough. After this, not knowing his way home, he had worked with the captain - wings _and_arms made getting to the top of the ship's mast and raising the sails child's play, in truth.
But he recalls no secret places, and so he shakes his head.
He does not lie. She doubts it'd occur to him to do so - there's nothing for him to conceal.
She moves forwards: his plate of fruit is finished now, and so she straddles his lap, looking down at him. His eyes are wide, and he stares at her chest, at the way her breasts are tight and flush beneath the fabric of her blouse. She doesn't put her entire weight on him, keeping herself just a little raised.
Aoife puts out one hand, stroking a furry thumb over the boy's cheek, and she sees his Adam's apple bob visibly in his throat.
Charming.
"I- I-" Strange, how even whilst stammering his voice holds such a magic quality. "I do not want- I am flattered, but I have no wish-" She rolls her hips down, and he lets out a soft whimper, his eyes fluttering closed. His lashes are longer than she had expected. "I have- ah- given you the- the information-"
"Oh, but,Bird. You haven't given me the information I want." She pulls a knife from between her breasts, and she slits the fabric covering his body, white as it is with slats at the back to allow his wings.
"But I do not possess- please, release me-"
"Oh, I'll give you release." His cheeks have flushed red beneath the olive, and he lets out a quiet as she wraps her hand around his cock. She sets the knife aside, sliding from his lap to her knees before him, examining what she finds with great interest. "Oh, look at this." Around his cock is a slight mound, and between the labia majora is a set of minora too: he has a pink opening beneath his cock. She wonders how deep it is, thoughtful as she examines it, and he lets out a choked little whimper of sound.
Aoife leans closer and, keeping her eyes on the boy's lovely face, presses her tongue into the opening.
He cries out, his eyes tightly closing, his mouth opening wide, his head tilting back. His wings spread despite himself, and his hands clench and open uselessly at his sides - he is not violent, by nature. He does not know to fight this.
"Please-" More resonance sings through that voice, as if he's trying to issue a command, but the word drops off as she begins to fuck him with her tongue, enjoying the way his flesh begins to wetten under her mouth. She drags her tongue up his cock, and he tastes sweeter than she'd expected, sweet like the fruit he eats, no doubt.
It doesn't take long: he's obviously not used to the treatment.
When he comes she can see his opening clench, wetly as if aching to be filled, and his cock pulses, staining his stomach in a pretty white.
She looks up, and there are tears on his cheeks: she grins at him. "Giorgo!" It is the raven. Bird stares at him, gasping for breath, gasping for the tears on his cheeks and the fact that she had just- even though he had refused- "Take him up to bed, will you?"
And Bird clings to Giorgo, forcing the other to carry him, because his knees are weak and he lacks the strength to stand. Aoife leans against the doorframe, wiping her mouth in a dainty fashion.
Utterly_delectable,_ that Bird is, and she has every reason to keep him here.
Isn't she a lucky thing?