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

cw: suicidal ideation

[littlefairytale]

"Oh, uh— I'm still in the Oak and Iron. I've never really lived alone and Darcy's only just managed to teach me enough that I can cook without burning stuff, so..." A little shrug.

The reasons run deeper than just that, of course. She could learn the skills needed to live independently, she's perfectly capable despite the holes left by how she grew up, but... the idea of living completely alone terrifies her more than she can say.

Without people nearby, without knowing she can just walk downstairs and find Erin or Darcy or that Darcy and Dimitri have their own rooms here, without knowing that people would notice if she didn't leave her room in too long... she can't say for certain that one bad day wouldn't lead to her spending a long 24 hours dead.

None of this leaves her mouth.

[goodweather]

Phil looks at her for a thoughtful moment.

“Talk to Darcy and Dimitri about it too,” he starts, “but we were thinking about moving into a house of our own, once we saved up enough. Somewhere out in the farmlands where it’s quieter. I don’t think I’d mind having a third.”

[littlefairytale]

The thing her mind finds easiest to start with is the doubts. The but what if they would minds and but I'd only be a burden on everyones and but why would anyone want to put up with mes and so on, so forth.

She has to wilfully push the thoughts aside, let the only echo that remains be the quiet, "...are you sure?" before she says, "That— that does sound nice. Kind of like home, actually."

Home-home. Patch, the cabin. The world before.