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It's a rather muggy night; a dirty mist hovers in the air under the yellow glow of the street lamps. The tall, dark office blocks tower over the landscape, filling the air with a sense of gloom and foreboding. Its always the same, every night you see the same despair and misery; the bums curled up in thin blankets, shivering from the cold; women scurrying home from work as fast they possibly can, worried eyes darting back and forth.
A soft, scuffling suddenly reaches your ears, sharper than most. Looking round you see into a side alley, a young woman being accosted by three men. In that short glance you note with some amusement that she's beautiful too. You shrug - she shouldn't have been out on her own in this neighbourhood - and begin to move on. "Wonderful, isn't she?" a tiny, sharp voice stops you abruptly in your tracks. You twirl round, seeking for its owner but none is to be seen. "I SAID…wonderful, isn't she?" the voice demands once more. You blink as you become aware, with some confusion, that the voice is not reaching your ears in English, or any other human language for that matter. You look up. Sitting there, on a window ledge just above your head, a little magpie stares cheekily down at you. You blink again and shake your head. "You're a bird!" The magpie chitters in a manner suspiciously similar to a laugh. "Oh, well done! Ten out of ten for perception there, mate. So, you going to answer me or what?" You stand staring at the impudent bird for a moment, then look round to the woman and note with some surprise that she seems to be taking care of the three would-be rapists. You look closer, concentrating a moment to bring your eyes into sharper focus, your ears more attuned, thanking your sire for the teaching. Her red-gold hair flicks sharply around her as she twirls, kicking a knife out of one man's hand. She growls softly, but her face holds an expression of grim mirth. She is enjoying this! Then you see with your esper eyes the tiny ears poking through her hair - Gangrel! "Your mistress?" you ask, chuckling quietly. "She does seem quite capable…" "That she is, that she is. Though, of course, I taught her everything she knows" he replies with a wink. "Don't know what she'd ever do without me" he hops down to a lower ledge, level with your eyes. "She seems to be doing perfectly fine without you," you reply dryly, half-amused, half-annoyed, at the bird's arrogance. "Hmmph! I'll have you know that she would never have survived this long without me! Why, I remember the time she accidentally found herself on the south side of town…course, she was a lot younger then and didn't know much about the Sabbat. She was in a right state after that, she was, and about ready to give up hope until I told her to stop being so dumb. "Well, I need her as much as she needs me, you see. So when I saw her about ready to give in to those Sabbat scum, " he spits out the word, "I flew down there and told her just that…how can I live without her? Oh yes, back then I was still young enough to go without her blood, but how could I go without her company?" The little bird sighs. You tilt your head, looking at the bird in a new light, curious and a little respectful of such loyalty. "You talk as if you love her" The magpie stops and looks into your eyes, his own a dark pool of memories. "I do." He chuckles though the tone is not one of happiness "but I am a bird and she is my mistress. That will always be the way of things. She has another in her heart and how could I go against that? All I want is for her to be happy and with him she is" He looks over to the fight, the men beginning to fall back under her wicked glare. "You know, magpie," you suddenly pipe up, "you do not talk like other animals I've met. All food and sleep and mating. You're no ordinary bird." "That I'm not, though she doesn't know it." He nods slightly. "I've seen death and come back. I've shared her thoughts as she rode my body into the sky at night, before she learned to fly herself. I have been hers since my first year of age. Besides, whatever next? A bird that can think?" He chuckles ironically, and you sense you will not learn all his secrets. "What a silly thought. Birds can't think…that's where the term bird-brain comes from. It's safer to be stupid, you know" "Sorrow?" A soft voice echoes down the street. You look round…the men lay bleeding at the woman's feet and she seems content as she brushes herself down, walking into the lighted main street. "That's me." The bird chitters quietly. "oh well, it was nice meeting you - you brujah types are always kinda friendly. Maybe I'll see you around!" And with that, the little bird hops of the ledge into the air and flutters swiftly to his mistress shoulder, cooing softly in a most un-magpie like fashion. You watch, thoughtful, as they turn and head away, happy together. Perhaps there is hope, after all, you muse quietly to yourself. Even among the damned. |