What a Catch [Finished]

[Kari Muffin]

Begging for food again. He was just an Ace, that's why. When people found out that he had an "A" on his chest, it complicated everything. He couldn't use money that he found, he couldn't talk, he couldn't do anything, because he wasn't a person.

Even Lythero called him worthless. It was enough to make any good person doubt that they were a person. But Honker still kept going, he still kept moving forwards, even if he was "just an Ace" in most people's eyes.

One day someone would treat him like a person again. He just had to be careful not to run into his family. It was a good thing not many of them made "sketchy" deals and the like. He was safe from that here...

But he was never really safe.

He shook himself out of his thoughts as he padded down the street, looking for someone willing to give him a little piece of food.

[Yuiven]

"Oooo..." Beowulf pressed the tip of his beak and his hands up against the dirty brown-tinged window of one of the few shops located in the Outer Bazaar. His face lit up like a kid in a candy store as he peered inside.

Seen in its reflective surface on the right hand side next to him, Wiglaf was leaning against the stained, crumbling brick, arms folded across his chest. A small indulgent smile played on his mouth as he watched his best friend through the long silvery tresses of his mane. It doesn't take much to make Beo happy. Then he swept his gaze across the surrounding area with every sense on alert for any potential threats, while he waited for Beowulf to finish ogling. After all, this was the Outer Bazaar. Everyone treaded a fine line between life and death at the hands of cutthroats here. No one trusted anyone else. You had to watch your back, and your wallet. Knowing this, Beowulf still allowed himself to be distracted by that enticing window display. So, Wiglaf took it upon himself to look out for danger.

It was then he saw a white shape coming towards them. The Percheron gave a small start. Huh?! Brown eyes narrowed to focus in, little by little, then grew wide when he discovered the identity of the approaching figure. A...Swan-dog? He stared at the scrawny cygnet-pup quizzically as it walked down the street, eyeing the pedestrians for a handout. What a weird mix. But that detail was quickly overlooked. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the street urchin was on the edge of death. Its protruding ribs, thin limbs with joints looking ridiculously oversized, and a distended belly from lack of food. Difficult to tell what its realm, suit or rank was underneath all of the grime. What stood out to him the most though were its eyes. They had none of that stupor of the walking dead, rather bright with intelligence and a spark of hope.

Wiglaf sighed in frustration. How he wished he could help, but as a ghost, he was physically unable to manipulate the world at large. Suddenly, an idea struck him. Ears perked up, he looked back at the crow with a lopsided smile. Perhaps there was something he could do. "Hey Beo, there's..."

"What do I need more: a new pocket watch or a new pair of gauntlets?"

"Ther-"

"I really need a pocket watch, but those gauntlets are friggin nice!"

Wigaf scowled. "Beo!"

The sudden rise in volume of the voice startled Beowulf and he snapped out of his musings, aiming an irritated glare at the benevolent spirit. "What?!"

[Kari Muffin]

(( OOC: Yuiven. I want your literary babies. ))

People were cruel. There was no other word for it as people passed him by even when he begged the best he possibly could. His ears pulled back in annoyance when someone nearly kicked him. A small growl escaped him before he gave up and turned away.

Honker eyes caught sight of a bird. The colors weren't from a realm he was familiar with, or at least that he had met on a regular basis. He hopped back and forward on his paws as he debated if he wanted to take the risk of bothering the man or not. He looked busy at the window.... but he looked like he was pretty well taken care of. He probably had money or at least he had food to spare.

Slowly and carefully he padded over to the man, his eyes as wide as possible. The swan dog wasn't expecting the exclamation. In reaction he let out a frightened, and terribly loud, honk before falling backwards in all of his hurry to back away.

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, cowering under his paws, his ears pressed tightly against his head in fear. Oh please... please don't let the man hurt him.

[Yuiven]

((OOC: I want to bear your speed children, Kari. *_*))

Wiglaf opened his mouth and a very loud honk, followed by a cry of "I'm sorry!" was the answer.

"HUH?!" Beowulf's turquoise eyes widened. Raising an eyebrow, he gave his long-time best friend a look that demanded that he be told what the hell was going on.

Meanwhile, Wiglaf, who had been so startled by the sudden outburst, simply stood wide-eyed and open-mouthed. It didn't take long for him to recover from the shock though- soon enough the feeling vanished, only to be replaced with a disgusted and irritated expression. Without saying a word, he lifted a finger up, then pointed straight down at his feet. "That's what I was trying to tell you, jackass!" he explained curtly, looking his buddy dead in the eye.

That final word stung, quickly and painfully, as real as any physical kick by the Percheron, but Beowulf didn't wince. He knew Wiglaf only swore when he was either very upset or very angry because he had deemed swearing as 'crude' and vowed to abstain from the practice on a daily basis. So, Wiglaf must've had a reason, one excellent reason, why he cussed him out like that just now. Perplexed, Beowulf furrowed his brow, but he remained where he was standing and looked down. His heart missed a beat at the sight before him. "Oh Suits..." The expression on his face radiated with the concern he suddenly felt for the little swan-dog, as his mind noted the same observations his partner had made earlier.

Once Beowulf regained his composure, he knelt beside the stricken child. He hesitated a moment before reaching out as the boy continued to cower on the worn, dirt street. Gently, he placed a hand on his foreleg. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," the man told him in a voice soft, but firm in tone. I should be the one apologizing to you. Are you okay?"

[Kari Muffin]

(( OOC: X3 <3 ))

The mixed breed's ears slowly flicked forward as he continued to quiver. The touch caused him to flinch. Most people, though, would have kicked him by now. When the words finally registered the little swan dog stopped shaking.

He could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he looked up at the stranger. It took him a moment to find proper words. "I-I'm fine. T-thank you?" He asked curiously as he slowly made to stand.

And then a familiar voice rang out. It was enough to make Honker crouch to the ground again in horror, trying the muffle the venous words. "Worthless chicken. Should have kicked him while you had the chance." The mouth snapped shut as the canine mix slammed his body onto the ground. It normally didn't stop the monstrosity, but this time he was lucky. Perhaps the cruel parasite was feeling generous? Or perhaps he hoped to instigate an confrontation for some sort of devious purpose and thought the simple insult would be enough? Whatever the reason he remained silent.

The swan dog burst into tears, quite suddenly, hoping that the Heart would take pity on him. After all, Honker was nothing but a miserable Ace.

[Yuiven]

Beowulf released a pent-up sigh, relaxing as he heard the boy's shaky assurances. He smiled, removing his hand from the cygnet-pup’s foreleg, and watched him slowly get to his feet.

"Worthless chicken. Should have kicked him while you had the chance."

Beowulf's emotions shifted abruptly from an overwhelming sense of relief that he hadn't hurt the poor child to indignation at such a rude comment. "WHAT?!" he exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. Spurred on by anger he shot to his feet and retreated a few steps, whipping his head this way and that in search of the insulting bastard. "Who said that?"

Without thinking, the irate man raised both hands to his chest as he turned slightly, his back towards the boy. A sword hilt protruded from the center of his Heart marking, heeding its wielder's summons. Grasping the hilt, he pulled it free, a thick broadsword materializing in his hands. Light glinted off the razor-sharp edge of the large blade as he swung his broadsword overhead in a wide, graceful arc. Chicken?! Beowulf tightened his grip on the leather-wrapped handle, while holding the weapon directly in front of him, in preparation for a fight. CHICKEN?! Just wait until I find him, I'll...

Suddenly, a loud wail rent the air, interrupting his internal ranting. Beowulf straightened with a jolt, making a startled noise. Turning back, he looked down at the young swan-dog with round eyes, blinking owlishly a few times. For a moment, he just stared at the bawling child, mouth hanging open slightly in consternation. Shame and guilt crawled throughout the crow as he switched his gaze from the street urchin to the weapon. D'oh! It wasn't a bright idea to be brandishing weapons around children. With that thought, he quickly de-summoned his broadsword, watching as it vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Beowulf moved to crouch by the cygnet-pup's side, and, on impulse, enfolded his wings protectively around him. "Shhh, shhh...hey, it's okay, it's okay," he said soothingly.

Beowulf was at a loss as to what to do. What could he do now? He wanted the boy to stop crying. Maybe...yeah, yeah... he's probably hungry- food makes everything better! "Are you hungry?" He asked, gesturing to his knapsack. "I ordered some takeout for my supper, but I'm afraid my eyes were bigger than my stomach." Beowulf chuckled. "Would you like to share with me?"

[Kari Muffin]

He was going to die. The bird was going to kill him. Honker curled up in a defensive position as he waited for the sword to come down on him. He could hardly breath through all the sobbing and tears, so how would he know when the man was going to strike? He shouldn't have gone and bother a heart.

So why were there suddenly wings? Honker choked a bit as struggled to blink away the tears clouding his vision. It didn't work as well as he had hoped, his ears still drooping and his tail tucked under him. Please. Please don't let Lythero destroy this moment.

The silence was brief. The bird in front of him spoke the clear question that made the canine part of him perk up instantly. His tail popped up, not wagging quite yet. "Y-you'd really share food with someone like me?" There was strong disbelief in the boy's voice as he looked up with wide and hopefully eyes.

[Yuiven]

((Sorry this took so long to post, Kari. ))

Whoa, déjà vu! The unpleasantly bizarre feeling welled up within the pit of his stomach, causing its contents to roil like waves on the Selkie Lakes. Memories flashed, swirling in his mind, as he struggled to fight through the haze of nausea and confusion trying to recall. Why does this seem so familiar? Beowulf wondered while rocking back and forth on his heels. I've never met this kid before, but I recognize the look on his face. It was another time, another place, another child, but– In a final, desperate attempt to remember, he jerked his body upright, stumbling in his haste before he managed to regain his balance. Beowulf looked down at the young swan-dog with narrowed cyan eyes and frowned thoughtfully. ...who?

Once, long ago, he had seen the exact same expression looking directly up at him. It triggered something in his memory. The haze beginning to disperse, his mind conjured up and overlaid an image of an all-too familiar raccoon, who had appeared in just as sorry a state, curled up lying in the dirt. Oh...so that's why this seemed so familiar! He realized with startling clarity. It was the little pickpocket who had tried to make off with Wiglaf's stone.

Then the illusion was shattered as a boy's voice came out of her mouth to ask a question. Her body gradually broke down into tiny pieces that each dissolved into thin air; first her feet, then her legs and her body, and finally, her head, exposing the swan-dog.

For another moment there was silence, as if Beowulf was actually reconsidering his offer... then the crow softly smiled and bobbed his head in an affirmative. "Of course," he replied honestly. Why on earth would he rescind his offer- the poor boy looked like he hadn't eaten for days! Without a trace of hesitation, he leaned forward and reached out, in a fatherly gesture, to wipe away the tears from the little hybrid's red eyes, smearing some grime onto the side of his hand. "Kid, don't cry. Please. I'm sorry for scaring you; none of this is your fault."

Beowulf felt plenty guilty about the whole thing; he knew he had over-reacted. He shouldn't have acted so rashly to such an immature insult, but something about that voice and the inflection of its tone ignited a fiery rage which nearly burned out of control. Luckily, it had been effectively doused by a child's tears.

"My name is Beowulf. What's your name?"

[Kari Muffin]

(( OOC: <3 it's fine. ))

The silence of Lythero was nerve wreaking for the swan dog. He had no idea when the monster that resided in his stomach would lash out towards the one person who could be his chance to eat real food. He shifted a bit as he cautiously looked up at the man.

He winced at the touch, he couldn't help it. He was just expecting to be hit out of habit. There weren't that many people who were kind to strays. Aces weren't people after all. Even if he took money from people he could never use it. He was just in a hopeless situation no matter how he looked at it.

But this person seemed nice. The swan dog sniffed for a moment as she looked up at the Jossigy. His name was Beowulf? That was a strange name. He shifted not sure if he should trust this person with his real name or not. "Peter. But everyone calls me Honker."

[Yuiven]

((Permission was granted for Honker to accept Beowulf's picnic invitation.))

Beowulf's face creased with concern as the cygnet-pup recoiled at his touch. What could have happened to this boy that would make him react as if he were expecting another blow to fall? Where were his parents? Had he been abandoned? Did he have no other choice but to run away because it was safer for him on the streets than at home? Well, it didn’t matter what had occurred in the poor tyke's past, whether as a Face Card, a Number or even an Ace; this was no life for a child.

Though Beowulf wished he could take the little boy in, he realized, regretfully, that as a soldier in the military, he was unable to properly care for a child. His shoulders subconsciously slumped in disappointment at the thought. How he wished he could do more to help this unfortunate young swan-dog... At least he could let him know that someone gave a damn by giving him something to eat.

The Josiggy's turquoise gaze never drifted as he stared at the grungy Tulgey's pitiful form, noting the obvious fear and doubt in his pink eyes. It broke Beowulf's heart. He could only imagine how much this boy had suffered.

The street urchin looked as if he were mulling over the proposition for a few minutes, checking if this offer was genuine or not. Suddenly Beowulf was filled with an almost overwhelming urge to assuage his concerns, to swear to the kid that the man wasn't a pedophile out to harm him. In the end, the street urchin decided it probably was, because he introduced himself as Peter, but everyone called him Honker.

As a pleased smile curled the corners of his beak, Beowulf said, "Nice to meet you... Peter." He instinctively recognized the honour Peter had bestowed by offering up his real name freely, and so called him that, rather than the cute, very appropriate nickname. Rising to his feet, he put his fists on his hips and tilted his head to one side, still looking down at his new acquaintance. "How about we go on a picnic?" he proposed, to which Peter agreed with grateful fervour.

Before setting off, the crow half-turned toward the window of the shop. To all appearances, it seemed Beowulf was wistfully eyeing the merchandise on display, when, in reality, he was looking at Wiglaf, where the ghost of the Percheron had been hovering all this time. Their faces were mirror images, eyes narrowed in deep suspicion. For the longest time, they just stared at each other, neither saying a word. Finally, as if he knew what his long-time partner in life and death was thinking, Wiglaf nodded. Satisfied, Beowulf turned back to Peter with a smile. "Okay, let's go eat!"