Daybreak | IC Inbox.

[awooligan]

CLIFFORD NORMAN
UN: REDRIDINGHOODIE

STATUS: grade 11

ACCOLADES: n/a.

BIO: name's cliff. let me know if you'll buy cigarettes and shit for me, we can work something out.

© TESSISAMESS

Comments

[hawkwardness]

< I don't know, what's your problem with me today? I wanted to see if you were okay, and what I get is you telling me to stop giving you shit because I'm just a bird. What the hell did I do? >

[Once upon a time he would have gone silent and swallowed up the abuse... but that was a different life.]

[awooligan]

[He realizes a second after doing it that he's following the instinct of baring his fangs, which he doesn't have an easy fix for and he he ends up looking away and gritting his teeth harder. Calm down, calm the fuck down, because even if Tobias is right about his temper being out of hand today, reacting even more to that out of either fear or frustration wasn't going to do him any good.]

Fucking hell, you didn't do anything! [Stupid... His gums almost feel itchy, he wants to bite and run, what the fuck is up with that? He swallows hard like that might make the feeling go away, and he exhales out a groan when that doesn't work. At least his voice is a bit steadier now, and less...shouty for no reason.] You didn't do anything. I just -- Fuck, this is all so stupid. I just meant that you wouldn't get it!

[hawkwardness]

< Apparently not. >

[The hawk is still puffed up, the anger hasn't relented.] < I may be just a bird, but I don't have weird mood swings and chew off everyone's heads. So I'm going to go now, and you can let me know when you get it out of your system. > [He's already spreading his wings, naturally.]

[awooligan]

[There's no way for him to stop Tobias, and why would he? Tobias being around him right now isn't good for either of them. It would be better for everyone if he was just...left alone. But he's away at school and sleeping in a dorm with too many people to avoid hurting everyone if he just stays how he is... With a growl to himself, Cliff storms off to Solve The Problem.

It's a good handful of hours later that Tobias hear a knock at his door -- he'd seen the window open, so he's...pretty sure his bird bud will be there. Bird ex-bud? Bird.]

[hawkwardness]

[Bird is there, the other roommate is not. Luckily for Cliff, who needs to learn to text first. Same scene, different day. Hawk on branch watching television on his phone. No homework to do. He sounds... tired, in a way, even though.]

< Oh. Hey. >

[awooligan]

[Different day, different scene! See, door and everything. That's the proper way people should come over, not that...this had anything to do with being proper. Being something else, yeah. Big time yeah.

Cliff lazily closes the door behind himself and settles down on Tobias's bed, looking simultaneously glassy-eyed and like he's concentrating hard. For someone else, the smell would have been indication enough, but with Tobias's useless hawk nose, it's probably that familiar, bleary look that will speak for Cliff's drunken state before he speaks for himself.]

Full disclosure, m'super wasted. [But at least he's honest about it? And mmn, he's not into this whole sitting up thing anymore, he's gonna just...stack up anything that's on Tobias's bed out of the way so he can lay down and watch the bird through half-closed lids.] Needed, um... Everything was -- you know? I just needed to slow down, so I could talk to you and not get so...fuckin'...

[hawkwardness]

[Cliff speaks and Tobias feels as if he's suddenly aged five years. So, so very done--there is no blatant body language this time, only more of a fed up tone to his voice.]

< You've got to be kidding me. Is that what was wrong with you? Too long without a drink and you started feeling it? Seriously? >

[awooligan]

[Less control over his composure, Cliff can't stop the instinctual wince as the tone falls over him like ice water. This isn't the time for fight or flight response, body. He already knew Tobias was going to be mad, so it wasn't like he hadn't been expecting to hear something like this, even if it makes him feel smaller.]

M'not an alcoholic. [That defense goes out first, because that's the thing he's confident about.] I don' even drink that much, usually. I was hungover earlier, but that isn't it either. God, I fucking wish that was what's wrong with me.

[hawkwardness]

< Okay. >

[He doesn't sound convinced. It doesn't sound much different from what his uncle would say. Deny, deny, deny everything.]

< What is going on? >

[awooligan]

[Cliff closes his eyes and hangs an arm over his eyes, which combined with his silence and languid movements doesn't help his case of not being a useless drunk that just barged in to cause problems and pass out. But just thinking about telling Tobias the truth makes his stomach lurch and his heart race. He can talk around it, he thinks, though when his words finally come out, they're stilted and slow.]

Uh. Haven't been sleeping great. I can't...slow down, and then I just get so mad, and I don't want to? But this finally makes me tired... So I wan'ed to talk to you before I got mad again, even though I knew you'd hate me.

[hawkwardness]

[He turns and preens at his feathers, unnecessarily. Nice, soothing. A bit of comfort for himself. Obviously it doesn't stop him from answering.]

< Okay. Sure. What are we going to talk about? >

[awooligan]

How I'mmm a massive dick. And a screw-up. Carl fuckin' wishes he could throw this in my mom's face so she wouldn' be so "soft" on me anymore. [Ugh, oh -- ] How as soon as this is over, I'm not touching anything with alcohol for a month. Shit, this sucks.

[Day after day, hangover after hangover. His whole body hurts, and it isn't just all the running around he's doing to try and get his pent up energy out or the constant tension in his muscles like he's preparing for a fight that would come any second.]

[hawkwardness]

[Preen, preen, preen. The tension is building. A lot to unpack there. It feels like such an important conversation, one he has to be his best for... and he can't be sure he's up for it. He's too damn young to be the adult here, he thinks to himself.]

< Look, I'm not going to say you weren't being a bit of a jerk. Not going to say I wasn't just as bad. But, uh... after what's over? Insomnia? That's not going to magically go away. >

[awooligan]

Mmm.

[It's a weary hum of agreement, because yeah. Even if he knows this particular bout had an end date just around the corner, this was going to continue to be a problem for the rest of his life, if he got to live it.]

It's... Don' worry about it. I can handle it. Aren't I causing enough trouble for you already?

[hawkwardness]

[He pauses and rests his beak in his feathers, motionless.]

< You wanted to talk about it. And I have a feeling nobody else is helping you out. Right? Just... me. >

[For whatever he's worth. Not much, that's for sure.]

[awooligan]

[He opens his mouth to protest -- he wanted to talk, not talk about this even though his drunk idiot brain brought it up, and he wanted to apologize! But then a wave of exhaustion hits him because...he told Coco he'd try. And Tobias hadn't kicked his ass out, even though he has every reason to hate him. Why were the two of them like this...? He shouldn't keep taking advantage, he knows, but. god he's lonely.]

You can be whatever you want... Do you always feel like you?

[hawkwardness]

[Carrying on being motionless, in a way no normal human could. Only an animal.]

< Depends. Are you looking for an honest answer or is this a rhetorical question? >

[awooligan]

A -- what?

[He knows what it means, he's just too drunk and slow for this.]

No, I'm asking for real.

[hawkwardness]

< I don't even know who or what I am, dude. Not a normal hawk, too hawk to be anything else. I couldn't tell you what I want to be, either. >

[Beyond 'alive', that is.]

[awooligan]

[His selfish brain feels a pang, half of his thoughts clumsily filing away that information, but the other half traipsing down the road of what he is, what he wants to be... Human, he should be human, can he still say he is? But that isn't what he wants to focus on, so he shakes his head and takes a moment to track down his original train of thought again.]

Mnbut do you feel... [What's another way to put it...] Are you still the same person as always? When you were that big mutant -- I don't remember if it's a croc or gator right now. It doesn't matter. Do you, uh, think the same?

[hawkwardness]

< Not completely. Not all of me. I get into the gator's head... every other animal's head. I know what it's like to be an alligator. >

[Patient. An infinitely patient mind, steered by a fourteen year old bird-boy. The calm it feels outside of a fight is... pretty nice.]

[awooligan]

[That makes Cliff sit up suddenly, even if his stomach protests. A bird might not have gotten the thing about a mother fussing over fights that didn't happen, but this bird at least might get this. Even with his face feeling as numb as it is, he thinks a bit of hope might be showing through prematurely.]

How do you not, like, jus' do what it wants? If you don't like what you're thinking, but you can't go back to normal for some reason?

[hawkwardness]

[This means something to Cliff, but he doesn't have the faintest idea what. Weird question...]

< Depends on what it wants. Sometimes I just go with the flow. Act natural, if there's no reason not to. Other times... there's usually some kind of goal, and it's not like I lose my memory. I'm still in there. I just feel like I really am whatever I've turned into, instead of a hawk. A smart alligator or deer, a raccoon, whatever. >

[awooligan]

Oh.

[Mmm... He has to think that one over, trying to pick apart what he could use and what just makes him jealous and inferior, like maybe if this hadn't been something done to him, he might be...okay -- after all, when he shifted of his own will, he didn't feel so much everything, or lose control and blocks of time. He might be completely different, if he'd always been like this. He might not be such a screw-up... No, back to trying to actually work through the problem.]

Fuck, I'm too drunk for this. [It's a small, frustrated mumble that he might not even realize he said out loud. Thinking was hard.] Can't my goal just be, like, "don't be an asshole to the people you actually sorta like"? Why can't that just work?

[hawkwardness]

[He looks at Cliff, finally, piercing eyes giving nothing away. The silence almost drags on long enough to be awkward...]

< Yeah, well. It's not like I'm good with people either. Morphing can't fix that. >