Markus wheeled in the night sky, catching an updraft and allowing it to carry him even higher. The city beneath him looked like a bauble, shiny and appetizing. This is mine, it belongs to me, he thought, in a fit of corvid possessiveness. Distantly he registered that tonight was the night his bright flame of a husband would be winning what he called an election. Apparently it was necessary to the rule of the place. Markus always found it trivial, politicking and winning over the masses. He and his conspiracy could easily terrorize the citizenry, cowing them into acceptance of his dominance of them and the city. However, dearest Nathaniel had gone through the pains of explaining the elections and his plan to Markus, who admittedly had not been listening as attentively as he'd pretended.
The house his husband had recently acquired was but a speck beneath him. It was tacky, but he liked the black floors and high ceilings. Everything else could be fixed, and Nathaniel was rich enough to see it done. He coughed out a noise that sounded like laughter. Nathaniel would fix everything for him, nice and pretty and sweet, the way he liked it. Nathaniel was a proper husband.
He descended, wheeling slowly until the balcony rushed up at him. He let out a raucous squaw and flared his huge wings wide, thrusting his feet forward, his wickedly sharp talons spread. Alighted on the balcony, he turned his head to regard his lamplight lover. He cocked his head down, squawed again, and jumped down to the tiled floor, batting his wings to orient himself. He stalked around the balcony in the limping sway of a mean bird bastard. The public knew him, Markus Justinius, as a model-pretty man, a cold, cruel looking beauty. He could fly in his man form, but Markus never liked to. Men were not made to fly, they were hardly aerodynamic, and certainly looked funny, and their arms were useless in the sky, and their feet were good for nothing.
As he fumed about the silliness of a man flying amongst the birds, he extended his wings forward, touching the railing. His tail feathers spread and lengthened, and his wings split and grew long down his back, tucking themselves almost immediately, even while the feathers on his first pair of wings shrank revealing smooth gray skin. His talons shrank, his fingers aligned properly, and he shook his head, feathers lengthening and thinning even as his beak receded and warped. He cast a one-eyed glance at his husband, his liquidy black eye taking in the handsome elemental, appreciating his form. Men were by and large ungainly and disgusting creatures, but Nathaniel was something otherworldly. His man form was merely a shell and it was still one of the prettiest things that Markus had ever laid eyes on.
Mine, he thought. His skin prickled in the cold air, but he merely shuffled his wings to fold around his body, and crossed his bare legs at the ankle, leaning his head on the back of his hands.
"Are we celebrating you legally owning my city?"
The house his husband had recently acquired was but a speck beneath him. It was tacky, but he liked the black floors and high ceilings. Everything else could be fixed, and Nathaniel was rich enough to see it done. He coughed out a noise that sounded like laughter. Nathaniel would fix everything for him, nice and pretty and sweet, the way he liked it. Nathaniel was a proper husband.
He descended, wheeling slowly until the balcony rushed up at him. He let out a raucous squaw and flared his huge wings wide, thrusting his feet forward, his wickedly sharp talons spread. Alighted on the balcony, he turned his head to regard his lamplight lover. He cocked his head down, squawed again, and jumped down to the tiled floor, batting his wings to orient himself. He stalked around the balcony in the limping sway of a mean bird bastard. The public knew him, Markus Justinius, as a model-pretty man, a cold, cruel looking beauty. He could fly in his man form, but Markus never liked to. Men were not made to fly, they were hardly aerodynamic, and certainly looked funny, and their arms were useless in the sky, and their feet were good for nothing.
As he fumed about the silliness of a man flying amongst the birds, he extended his wings forward, touching the railing. His tail feathers spread and lengthened, and his wings split and grew long down his back, tucking themselves almost immediately, even while the feathers on his first pair of wings shrank revealing smooth gray skin. His talons shrank, his fingers aligned properly, and he shook his head, feathers lengthening and thinning even as his beak receded and warped. He cast a one-eyed glance at his husband, his liquidy black eye taking in the handsome elemental, appreciating his form. Men were by and large ungainly and disgusting creatures, but Nathaniel was something otherworldly. His man form was merely a shell and it was still one of the prettiest things that Markus had ever laid eyes on.
Mine, he thought. His skin prickled in the cold air, but he merely shuffled his wings to fold around his body, and crossed his bare legs at the ankle, leaning his head on the back of his hands.
"Are we celebrating you legally owning my city?"
