i heard the thunder [open]

[goodweather]

Who: Phil and you!
What: May/June open
When: Late April and through May, probably June too
Where: Around town, the skies over the island, the Library, the hot springs
Warning(s): nudity in the hot springs prompt


but i find i got the question wrong [exploring]

A whole town. A whole island. Imagine that.

It's almost overwhelming, honestly, but Phil figures he may as well start big and wide before getting into the real nitty-gritty of it. So once things are slightly settled, once he has the time, he takes off. It won't be so unusual for people to see his silhouette soaring in the sky. If something fascinating catches his attention on the ground, perhaps he'll come down to check it out; his eyes are fit to see detail miles away, so distance is hardly a problem. Perhaps he'll land near you, or you can find him freshly landed someplace else. This is a lot more flying than he's done in years.

i was trying to run away [around town]

And of course, there's the glory of having more than a couple dozen other people to talk to. Phil makes himself a real neighbor's neighbor; he introduces himself to as many people as he can, he chats up anyone who seems free enough, he wanders place to place in the town, invites people to lunch or a drink or what have you. Sometimes he'll just be sitting around, pleased to be people-watching.

but a voice told me to stay [library]

Ah, weather. His old friend.

He's got to brush up. Get back into the swing of it, you know? And he's got to figure out what sort of currents and forces are acting on the meteorology of the island. Phil schleps down to the Library then, and spends long days tracking down research material for the case: he cross-references reports in the newspaper archives, digs up a scientific textbook on the global climate and its impact on the island, and even fishes up a few academic papers of... uh, dubious helpfulness, but it's fine.

Exhaustion catches him more easily these days than it used to. He's not terribly proud of it, but more than once he dozes off him his chair. Then shakes himself awake, then... dozes off again. At least he's not drooling on the books.

put the feeling in a song [hot springs] (cw: nudity, artistic nudity painting the link)

One of the things he'd spotted from above was, of course, the hot springs. There's even some signage nearby, so this is definitely both a public space and safe to take a dip in. Not saltwater, not chlorinated... jeez, it feels like it's been ages since he's been able to take a proper soak without having to take on some shape that got rid of his feathers. It's a relief. A good place to keep in mind if he has a particularly awful flare, too. (Although getting here would be tricky if he's gotten that bad.)

One day or another, Phil stops up there by himself. Undresses. Sighs a long sigh as he rests in the water. Lounging below the water or up on the grass, anyone is free to encounter him (and his shockingly sculpted figure), although he'll certainly hear you coming.

(And of course, do mind the wedding band he's wearing as a necklace.)

wildcard

[ hit me! ]

Comments

[lasthumanvoice]

"Someone whose activities she'll take interest in. A favorite. A parasocial beloved. The one you rest your chin in your hands and watch with heart eyes. Not to be confused with a 'bouba'."

[goodweather]

"And I'm not a bouba."

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil glances at Phil's hands. "Not physically, at least. Metaphysically...well, that'll take more time to discern. Just be glad that's the linguistic experiment in question and we're not labeling you a wug."

[goodweather]

“You know that I’m just going to keep asking you about these things.”

He’s gotta Know, see.

[lasthumanvoice]

“Have you ever watched The Partridge Family?”

This is relevant, really it is.

[goodweather]

“It ran a little before my time, but I caught some of the reruns growing up, sure.”

[lasthumanvoice]

"A wug is a little bird drawing that looks a lot like the birds from the intro animation for the show. It's used by linguists to test grasp of how to form plurals in children. 'This is one wug. This is another wug. There are two...'"

They've gotten well off the topic of what Phil is, clearly.

[goodweather]

And yet Phil has either completely lost the thread or he just cannot bear to tear himself away from Cecil's meandering explanations of wugs and scrunglies and perhaps, even, plinkos. He knows that last one though.

At some point the actual purpose he had of finding Cecil catches up to him. "Oh, uh--not to take your own show away from you, but... forecasting's only half of my job. I'm a broadcaster too, I'm a public speaker. Do you think that I could, you know, ever host something on your show too?" A beat. "Actually, what do you usually broadcast?"

[lasthumanvoice]

"Traffic, sports, public interest stories, rambling monologues, business openings and closings, portents of doom, The Weather--which is not in no way related to your work, but is not going to interfere with it--and propaganda on behalf of the town government."

Well. At least he's honest.

[goodweather]

He'd be surprised if there wasn't, honestly. He's also not sure how Cecil managed to speak in a fashion oddly reminiscent of bold uppercase.

"Yeah, see--that sounds great. I'd be happy to help manage the station and co-host if you ever wanted to shove off some of the work on someone. Or add some more segments, you know."

He bites his tongue from suggesting too much more, not wanting to come off as overeager or controlling and scaring the guy off, no matter how badly Phil wants to get back into the game. He's got the only station in town, after all.

[lasthumanvoice]

"More segments? What exactly do you have in mind?"

...on the one hand, yes, Cecil is very enthused about the idea of more hands. On the other, he is suddenly being hit with the realization that he is now Station Management, and what that might mean in the long run.

[goodweather]

Oh well! They’ll figure it out as they go.

“For one, I can play concert piano. Classical and jazz, mainly, but I can always branch out. Could have a weekend show or something—maybe feature other musicians in town instead here and there if they ever wanted to.”

Pauses. “That involves a piano, but it’s my understanding that the Pockets bar currently has an old beast of mine.”

[lasthumanvoice]

"The Empty Pockets?" He seems instantly intrigued. "The piano is yours?"

[goodweather]

He gestures in a so-so motion.

“You know how a bunch of us came from some kind of cursed prison ship? The man-eating piano’s from there, too. Just came alive one day. It’s barely tame, but it’s still kind of tame, and it’s mostly me and the blonde kid Dimitri who were working on that. I played on her keys almost every day, too. She’s a big fan of Schubert and golden-age musicals.”

[lasthumanvoice]

"Please tell me the piano's a she metaphorically, and not in the Jurassic Park sense, where life finds a way."

Look. Look.

1/2

[goodweather]

[goodweather]

“I really wish I could guarantee the former, which was my intent, but we also had a monster made out of clothes and then one day we started seeing smaller little baby clothes ones, so.”

[lasthumanvoice]

"That sounds like the sort of thing that would happen back home. We had a glowing cloud floating over the Arby's run for school board, once."

...did you think Cecil was done saying weird shit?

[goodweather]

What a fantastic start to a new coworkership.

"... Was it at least a good campaign?"

[lasthumanvoice]

"Well. It kept dropping livestock on dissenters and those who failed to worship it. All hail the Glow Cloud!"

[goodweather]

"... Sounds effective."

Maybe not good, but effective!

"So was the livestock messy? Did you harvest the carcasses, or did you have live animals walking all around town all of a sudden? Was the cloud beneficial to the school board?"

[lasthumanvoice]

"Messy? You bet! There was blood and viscera and shards of bone everywhere." His tone is the same enthusiastic warmth it's been this whole time, but there's a look in his eyes that's haunted. He's a radio personality. He can keep control of his voice, but not his face. "So of course we did whatever we had to, in order to appease the cloud."

[goodweather]

He gets it, of course. Phil doesn't really make a habit of using it in this capacity, but can he? Oh, yeah. They're professionals.

"Yeah, of course." A sage nod. "Well, hopefully here I'll be able to predict if we're about to get more livestock dropping from the sky. Once I get the infrastructure for it set up, of course. I've got to talk to this guy--Tarantulas, I think?"

[lasthumanvoice]

"Ah, yes, good. He helped a lot with setting up the radios." Nodnodnod. "He's also very...unique as a person. If you want to be extra thoughtful, bring something for his daughter when you meet him. A stuffed toy, perhaps."

[goodweather]

“Oh, sure, easy.” Nodnodnod. “Is she a spider too? Should I take that into consideration when I’m picking a toy?”