[ a - learn from the mistakes of others, etc etc ]
[the body hits the window and hawks does his best to do damage control almost immediately. at least he succeeds mostly in herding the small cluster of frightened people away from the entrance doors, away from the bloody splatter against the glass. it's easy to fall into his hero role - the crowd pleaser, the calming force that keeps the people at ease. even if it's somewhere like this so out of his element.
when it seems like the crowd has calmed down and no one is attempting to sprint past the doors into the mist hawks steps away for a moment. tumbling into this situation with his wings going from their 8ft wingspan to barely the size of his palm has him beyond irritable and just borderline anxious. the familiar weight of his feathers is gone with only the barest flutter of whatever the fuck is attached to his back now. any thought of going out into the mist to find any survivors is gone when he realizes he wouldn't stand a chance against whatever it was that threw the body against the doors. it's a bitter pill to swallow, but he can't die on a fool's mission.
out of eyeshot of most everyone else he finds a (thankfully backless) bench and takes a seat. cradling one of his feathers between both hands he runs his fingers through the fine furs, attempting to concentrate on what used to be second nature to him. the feather in hand barely twitches under his attempts and his frown deepens.]
[ b - the lovers ]
Haaah... this feels kind of cruel, yeah? [he's talking to himself, a little frustrated as he looks down at the note he wrote to himself earlier so as not to forget the name of the person he's supposed to... 'love'?] If I had known I'd be roleplaying so much I wouldn't have given up on DnD so quickly all those years ago, haha! Hah...
[whoever his other 'lover' was hopefully they had a good sense of humor and a lot of patience.]
hawks | bnha
[the body hits the window and hawks does his best to do damage control almost immediately. at least he succeeds mostly in herding the small cluster of frightened people away from the entrance doors, away from the bloody splatter against the glass. it's easy to fall into his hero role - the crowd pleaser, the calming force that keeps the people at ease. even if it's somewhere like this so out of his element.
when it seems like the crowd has calmed down and no one is attempting to sprint past the doors into the mist hawks steps away for a moment. tumbling into this situation with his wings going from their 8ft wingspan to barely the size of his palm has him beyond irritable and just borderline anxious. the familiar weight of his feathers is gone with only the barest flutter of whatever the fuck is attached to his back now. any thought of going out into the mist to find any survivors is gone when he realizes he wouldn't stand a chance against whatever it was that threw the body against the doors. it's a bitter pill to swallow, but he can't die on a fool's mission.
out of eyeshot of most everyone else he finds a (thankfully backless) bench and takes a seat. cradling one of his feathers between both hands he runs his fingers through the fine furs, attempting to concentrate on what used to be second nature to him. the feather in hand barely twitches under his attempts and his frown deepens.]
[ b - the lovers ]
Haaah... this feels kind of cruel, yeah? [he's talking to himself, a little frustrated as he looks down at the note he wrote to himself earlier so as not to forget the name of the person he's supposed to... 'love'?] If I had known I'd be roleplaying so much I wouldn't have given up on DnD so quickly all those years ago, haha! Hah...
[whoever his other 'lover' was hopefully they had a good sense of humor and a lot of patience.]
[ c - wildcard ]
[gimme anything im down for whatever]