The Park, Monday Evening

[lockestheway]

Portals elsewhere might break, send you to the wrong planet, or leave you hanging; this one was forever faithful to its own schedule.

Sadly, for those denizens of the island who might have grown attached to their children, that meant it was time to say goodbye. The portal popped up blazing purple in the center of the park, calling to those it had taken here just a few days ago.

Time to go, time to go home, children.

[[ for your AU kidlet goodbyes! Sniff. ]]

Comments

[angelo_wings]

This totally needed to be a feathers sort of moment, and so Rinoa concentrated, willing herself not to drop Pluma, not to tap into too much magic, and not to lose herself.

An instant later, her wings began to unfurl, slowly, behind herself. They were beautiful. Sometimes she envied Warren; his could be out all the time. She knew it would be a logistical nightmare, and she knew how lucky she was, that she could stealth. But she felt like a goddess whenever she had wings.

She stretched one feathery wingtip, to brush against Pluma, shivering slightly. Pluma cooed, happily, in response.

One big feathery family?

[wwiii]

One big feathery family. Warren gave Rinoa a bit of a sideways smile. For all that she might have envied him because his were always out, he still couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy, himself. She could hide hers, could be normal, no harnesses necessary.

"I guess this is where we see you off, huh, Pluma?"

... So help him, he kind of found himself not wanting to.

[wee-heartillies.livejournal.com]

Feathers. Feathers all around her, safe, soft, and brushing her. Pluma was loved. Pluma nuzzled each of them, in turn, purring lightly -- enjoy your damp fingers, everyone.

She liked this. It was cozy. It was all as it should be.

And then, with some effort, she pulled herself up, up, so she could hover in the air a couple of inches over their hands. Flying still required concentration; that was why she only ever managed short bursts of it. But she was getting better.

One last trill, and she fluttered through the portal.

[angelo_wings]

Rinoa had to swipe at her eyes. And -- okay, she didn't know how exactly if you could manage hugging with two arms and wings apiece without poking any eyes out, but she and Warren could figure that out, yes? Please? Maybe? Because she really needed to be held right now and just sort of ... grieve for a moment, and she had a feeling he did, too.

[wwiii]

Warren nodded a little in mute understanding, and demonstrated the perfect way to hug with two arms and wings apiece, holding her close while folding his wings around her reassuringly.

The answer to the mystery of what to do with so many wings, of course, was to use them.