Feet on the ground; head in the clouds [ Open; Post-SHODAN, Pre-exploring plot ]
Tobias didn't usually morph human. It made him feel too heavy, too clumsy, and above all far too blind. But he did it once in a long while. Like today. He was wandering along the edge of the lazy river that had been cut into the soil of the City, hands clasped behind his head. He wasn't dressed in much; what looked like bike shorts and an awkwardly tight t-shirt. His feet bare and digging into the soil and grass of the shoreline.
He didn't do this often, but sometimes it was good to stretch your legs as much as your wings, to remember what it felt like to have thumbs and lips and fingers. It also helped to collect his thoughts in a way that flight didn't. What was he doing here? The amazing Birdboy, more bird than boy now. The entire enterprise felt strange to him. He couldn't be of much help, he felt, what with being stuck (was he really stuck) as a bird except for two hour chunks of time. But the others were here and that helped assure him that he could be useful, even if it was only helping them.
As things stand, other crew members might be interested in this strange boy that's arrived in their midst. That had been one of his big objections to it: people finding out he could morph. So he'd gotten a bunch of dumb fake names from Marco and settled on a pseudonym eventually. Let them believe he'd come aboard in the last pop.
The boy stooped to pick up a rock and turned it over in his fingers, feeling the warm stone in his palm before hurling it out into the river. He had an hour or so left. He'd take his time for now.
He didn't do this often, but sometimes it was good to stretch your legs as much as your wings, to remember what it felt like to have thumbs and lips and fingers. It also helped to collect his thoughts in a way that flight didn't. What was he doing here? The amazing Birdboy, more bird than boy now. The entire enterprise felt strange to him. He couldn't be of much help, he felt, what with being stuck (was he really stuck) as a bird except for two hour chunks of time. But the others were here and that helped assure him that he could be useful, even if it was only helping them.
As things stand, other crew members might be interested in this strange boy that's arrived in their midst. That had been one of his big objections to it: people finding out he could morph. So he'd gotten a bunch of dumb fake names from Marco and settled on a pseudonym eventually. Let them believe he'd come aboard in the last pop.
The boy stooped to pick up a rock and turned it over in his fingers, feeling the warm stone in his palm before hurling it out into the river. He had an hour or so left. He'd take his time for now.