2438/A Casual Three-Dimensional Stroll

A Casual Three-Dimensional Stroll
Date of Scene:	13 July 2020
Location:	Roof - Titan's Tower
Synopsis:	Flying is done. Conversation is had. While Terry kibitzes.
Cast of Characters:	Kian, Gar Logan, Terry O'Neil

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Kian has posed:
    It is probably what Kían needed most, just getting a little air under his wings.  The last couple weeks have been, well, mind-bending.
    He must have some excess energy to burn off or something, because once he's off the roof, he's putting on an aerial clinic, using the various objects on the rooftop as an ad hoc obstacle course, even at one point coming down hard feet first on the diving board at the pool, and using it to re-launch himself straight up into the air.
    "Kya!"

Gar Logan has posed:
    The pool seemed like a good idea to go for a swim in.  The ocean is right down below, but the pool area is more private and, at least today, Gar was not thinking of going out to deal with people.
    Arriving in nothing but a pair of swim trunks, a gradient black to purple color, he exits the Tower just in time to watch Kian using the diving board as a catapult of sorts to go skyward once more.  This leads to him squinting, waiting for the alien bird to come by closer again before cupping a hand to his mouth to call out, "Enjoying yourself?"

Kian has posed:
    Kían wheels about gracefully and drops to a landing a couple meters away—with Gar between himself and the pool.  "Takh, yis, I am en-joy haf-in' f-light jus' for the joy of f-lyin'.  Not haf to p-rac-tice anythin', jus'… jus…."  And he kicks into the air again, rolls over backwards and swoops low, his wingtip passing less than a meter over Gar's head.  "For joy of f-lyin'!" he repeats happily.

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan rests his hands at his hips, the very green Titan watching the path taken in the air prior to the affectionately-known 'birb' stopping long enough to share a few words.  The bit of showing off leads to him flinching just enough as the wing draws past, but enough clearance is given that it isn't all that close.  "Yeah, I can see how much you like f-lyin', and I ain't lyin' either.  Are things all right, then?"

Kian has posed:
    That… brings Kían to a mid-air stop.  He hovers a moment, and then lands again, the same place as before.  "I do not know," he says with flat honesty.  "I feel… I feel like I shoul′ be up-set, but I do not thin'k I feel up-set.  Over… hyu know.  Big fight.  I am feel… okay?  But I do not feel okay that I feel okay."
    He shakes his head.  "I am prob-ly not make sen-se.  c'Rhys'yw, I do not un-der-s'tan', and I liff in-side here!" he says, tapping his temple.
    He looks up skyward, maybe in supplication.  "An' I woul' giff pin-feather for a bot-le of kyréo right now."

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan reaches the pool and takes up a seat at the edge, dipping his legs into the water as he holds his balance with both hands to either side of him.  "A lot of us are pretty used to stuff like this, so I'm guessing it was pretty crazy for you.  Not that it wasn't crazy, I mean.  But… you know."  He waves it off with a hand.
    "Sometimes nothing makes sense, dude.  You just gotta find a way through it when that's the case.  I don't know what that is though, the thing you just said you'd give up a feather for," he says, giving Kian a look of curiosity.

Kian has posed:
    "Hyu iss use to, Dón-na iss use to, Vik iss use to," Kían says.  "I am not use to.  I am hap-py to liff th-rough, I am hap-py to not get hur't, I am hap-py to haf not hur't a sen-tien'.  An' some-thin' in me iss not hap-py."
    He shakes his head.  "No, iss not right.  Some-thin' in me iss… ai, qokh.  I do not know.  I jus' do not know."
    He shakes his head.  "Kyréo iss… nnh.  Not haf wor'd."  He reaches over and puts his hand on Gar's shoulder.  {It's a brandy made from a local wine.  Well, local from back home anyway.  It literally means 'golden fire'; it's made from something we call 'spicewine', and qokh but I could do with one of my dad's bottles right now….}  The translation of that one word is deliberately blocked.  There's a feeling that it's really not polite.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «So!» Terry's cheerful voice comes over the comms, «System says there's two of you up on the roof.  Did somebody call for a pool party and forget to invite me?»

Gar Logan has posed:
    "I just believed in everybody," Gar explains.  "Yeah, we try to practice things so we know how to help each other out when stuff comes up, but it's hard to know what to do until you're doing it and even then you might not know if you're doing the right thing until afterward."
    From his spot, he looks up as Kian draws closer.  "Yeah, I don't want to seriously hurt anyone unless they really deserve it, or if it's to save someone else."  He freezes at the touch, the connection always a little jarring at first before it settles into something more comfortable, at least for him.  "Ohhh, you want to get drunk?  I don't think that'd be a good idea to go around trying to fly afterward.  And did you just say an unprintable word?"  It brings a humorous look to his expression, then he pauses at the comm-chatter.
    «Oh, hey.  Kian's showing off, and he just swore.  Has he been hanging around with Vic more lately?»  He asks Kian more directly, "Have you?" before adding, «I might have to fly a little bit, too.»

Kian has posed:
    Kían actually chuckles at that.  "D-run'k, may-be not.  Some-hwere bet-ween here an' d-run'k, may-be.  I haf f'ly hwen I haf been d'rin-kin', an' iss not good idea.  An' kié, Téri," he adds, keying his T-com.  "I am not know hwat 'pul par-ty' iss.  I know 'par-ty', I thin'.  Had pit-sa par-ty yes-ter-day, yis?"
    He shakes his head.  "Am not cer-tain I can giff meanin' of qokh.  Iss not polite wor'd.  Iss mean like un-der-g'roun'."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «Oh, you want to put on a flying show?  I should come up there with popcorn and watch.  I'm finishing with the sending of the video to Lois in just a bit.
    «Kian, a pool party is a party in which people swim and splash around in a pool.  It's great fun in the summer.»

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan appears confused at the comparison to being underground.  Lest he open up a can of worms he's not ready for, he accepts this explanation with a slow nod.  "Got it." No he doesn't.
    "Anyway, I'm too young to drink as it is, and it's easy enough for me to get distracted and lose my focus without alcohol making it worse.  And a pool… yeah, what he said.  Would that be good for your feathers?" he wonders, then he gets back up and shakes some of the water off his legs.
    «Are you sure?  All I've got on right now is a pair of shorts.  You think you can handle that?» he asks over the comm between the three of them, giving Kian a mischievous look.  «You're already spying on us as it is.»
    A moment later, the Garkiar is standing there, still in just the shorts, wings fanning out behind him as he raises a brow Kian's way.

Kian has posed:
    Kían instinctively backs away from the pool.  "Par-ty, yis.  Pul, no," he says, making sure comms are open.  "Water-soak'd win'g iss not a good thin'g."
    He gives Gar a funny look.  "Too… youn'g to d-rin'k?" he asks, like it's a totally alien concept.  "Hyu woul' haf I'takár, Fir's F-light by now.  Iss adul't af-ter that," he says as though that settles it, then adds uncertainly, "Iss dif-feren' on Ear't?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «Gar Logan, calm down.  If I recall correctly, I can handle your shorts quite well.»  Clearly Terry is hoping on the more spicy turns of the expression to be lost on Kian.  «And I'm not spying on you.  I'm on monitor duty, remember?  I'm monitoring.  Kian, you need to be open to new experiences.  Soaking a little in the water is very refreshing.  Wings dry out, but fainting from heatstroke is a real thing.»

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan rolls his eyes, unseen by the one on monitor duty.  «Not in front of the kids!» he answers, whether it makes sense to say or not.
    "They have things called laws here, Kian.  Laws tell you what you can and can't do.  For example, if you're caught drinking under a certain age, you can get in trouble.  But, there are other places where apparently if you can reach the bar, you can have a drink."  He explains this in a patient way, but also in a way that is only half-serious.
    "Now if you want to fly, let's go!  We can figure out the pool later, but I've seen some birds that love getting spritzed with water!"  He readies himself, then goes skyward!

Kian has posed:
    «My wor'l iss war-mer than this, Téri,» Kían radios back.  «This is com-for-ble weather to me.»
    And then he kicks into the air, flying a spiral around Gar as they rise into the air.  "That iss not sen-sib-le.  Adul' iss when adul' hap-pen… oh.  Can not do Fir's F-light here.  I am not sure hwat that has to do wit' haf-in' a d-rin'k.  Now hyu tell me hyu not have ki'takár… sor-ry, not haf min'd-f'light…."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «I realize I haven't asked too many questions about your home… so, how does adult happen, in your world?  When do you determine that…» a youngling?  A chick?  «A young one is now an adult?  And Gar, don't spritz Kian.  Play nice.»

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan leaves that part of the conversation to Kian and Terry.  Instead, his questions are about something else.  "What's the First Flight all about?  Is that like some ritual or ceremony sort of thing?  And… ki-what?  Sorry, I'm still learning some of your language."
    Ironic, that.
    Now it's his turn to do a couple circles around the alien, making it look as if he's practiced it for years.

Kian has posed:
    "Pass the I'takár, the Fir's F-light, iss adul't," Kían explains.  "Iss ritual to come of age.  I haf been adul't for… nnh.  Seven year?  Do not know how long hyu year iss.  Seven of Akiár year."  Almost on reflex, he reaches for the pendant he never takes off, and gives it a little squeeze.  "Hwen can fly on own, iss adul't.  I woul' of-fer hyu the rite, Gar, but I am not p-ries'.  But hyu can f'ly, so iss adul't as I see."
    Gar's question gives him some pause; he's not sure how to explain it.  "Nnh.  Ki'takár iss… iss p-lan't.  It f'ree min'd f'rom body.  Un-der-s'tan'?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «So… you basically trip balls?»  Terry's voice sounds incredibly amused, and then he adds, "And yet, apparently, my mind was too trippy for you.  I don't know how I feel about all this….»

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan just eyes Kian, shaking his head after coming to a vertical stop in midair.  «Now I'm starting to think Bird here is a bad influence, talking about getting drunk and high, too.  Maybe I should just be a sparrow for a little while.»  He adds, while maintaining a skeptical, if still not completely serious expression, "I've been flying ever since I was a little beast boy."

Kian has posed:
    "I am not haf t'roub-le wit' hyu min'd, Téri," Kían says primly.  "Am use to ki'takár, an' am use to min'd-lin'k wit' many other at same time.  Hyu min'd iss busy, but iss not too busy for me.  Hyu iss in-teres-tin' but iss not min'd-f'light.  An' I am know how to not make min'd lin'k hwen not wan' to.  Gar iss need p'rac-tiss.  I am haf min'd-touch since bir't.  He iss haf not."
    He blinks at Gar.  "Iss not al-low on Ear'th, d-rin'k an' min'd-f'light?  That iss not right… a min'd mus' be kep' ac-tive…."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «Well, that's what books are for, some would say.  I don't need any of that stuff myself because I can entertain myself just fine.  As you were able to see.  Now Gar on the other hand…» Terry jokes as he types up a few notes and looks at the report in one of the monitor room's readouts, «You have to keep him entertained frequently or otherwise he starts raiding the pantry.»

Gar Logan has posed:
    «Well, flying while high would explain all the times birds run into windows,» Gar deadpans through the link before looping around Kian a few times, upside down, rightside up, this way and that.  «And I only practice the stuff I need to know.  Do I really need to be able to do… all that mind stuff you birds do?» he questions.
    He has no answer for Vorpal's checking of whatever's on file, whether it is or if it was just made up on the spot.  He eats enough, it's true.

Kian has posed:
    "On-ly if hyu wan' to make men-tal con-tac' wit' Téri, Gar, or be safe again's it.  Hyu d'rop him las' time."  It's not said judgmentally—it's just factually what happened, and Kían shrugs indifferently.  "If hyu not wan' men-tal con-tac' wit' Téri, do not be a Akiár aroun' him."
    With a snicker, he adds, "Book iss good if hyu al-ready read the lan-guage well, Téri.  I am s'til wor'k on it."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    «Oh, I've got a great book for you to learn your way around the language.  It's called Finnegan's Wake—you'll love it!»  A sigh comes over the comm, suddenly, and Terry adds, «Okay, I'm going back to focus on monitor duty.  Looks like there's some activity in Midland Park that bears looking into.  You two flyboys think you could swoop over there and take a look?  People are reporting a gathering of suspicious looking people in colorful costumes.  Could be a new group of supervillains.  Could be the Cirque du Soleil.  You never know.  In any case, I'd appreciate it if you could swoop over there and do a bird's-eye view of the thing.»

Gar Logan has posed:
    "I'll keep that in mind.  My own thoughts are usually enough for me," Gar deadpans, coming to a stop in midair again as the wings are used to help maintain his height.
    «We'll check it out.  Should be there and back in no time.»  He gives Kian a brief look and a grin, then he indeed shifts away from Akiar form, if just for now, and into that of a hawk.  Onward!