[Semi-Open] Eating Crow

[maltesefalcon]

Who: Cerrit Agrupnin and People that Should Know
What: Little Talks about a Big Deal
When: Backdated late August up until Dahlia's Gala
Where: Wherever Talks Happen
Warning(s): None yet


Cerrit's secret has been eating at him, and now it's time to let it out. If you work closely with him as an Enforcer or a member of the militia, or if you're good friends with Cerrit and you don't know about his deal with Aster yet, sometime in late August (post-Blight) or early September he's going to invite you for a private conversation.

The means may vary, the context may vary, but he has some things he needs to say.

Comments

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton has only been on the job for a short while so he can't help but be a little nervous when he's asked for a private conversation. He's expecting to get handed a pink slip today so he's mentally preparing himself for the walk of shame that comes after. Won't he be in for a surprise?

"You wanted to talk to me?"

[maltesefalcon]

"Come on in, have a seat. Close the door."

Look, he wants this to be one person at a time instead of broadcasting everything to the entire station all at once. Cerrit's nervous, and it shows in ways that may-or-may-not read to Crichton, with his experience with non-humans. His wings are held tight to his back and slightly lifted, even though he's sitting on a backless stool. The feathers along his neck and crest are flared slightly. His desk is immaculately tidy, no papers laid out before him.

[ss_buttcrack]

Yep. he's getting fired isn't he? Or... is he? Once he's shut the door and taken his seat, he finally gets out of his own head enough to notice that he isn't the only one who seems nervous.

"Is there a problem?"

[maltesefalcon]

"There's...a matter I'd like to discuss with you. Something I haven't been open about."

Cerrit folds his scaly, taloned hands on the top of his desk, looking John right in the eyes.

[lightconductor]

A private conversation with Cerrit is hardly unusual at this point. One that needs an announcement is alarming.

There's no sense in jumping to conclusions. Watson closes the flat door behind them, locks it behind him out of habit. "Well," he says. "You have my attention. What is it that's on your mind?"

[maltesefalcon]

"There's something I haven't shared with you, something you ought to be aware of. I...I am sorry for hiding it from you, but it's a complicated matter."

John knows how to read Cerrit. The droopy crest and tightness in his wings are tense. Guilty, in this case.

[lightconductor]

Watson looks at Cerrit for a long moment, his expression troubled -- this does not in fact narrow it down very much -- but he takes Cerrit gently but firmly by the elbow to steer him. "Come sit down, then, and tell me about it."

[maltesefalcon]

"You remember the dinner party Aster threw, months ago?" This is not going to be a pleasant conversation, but at least John's known him since before that night.

[liesdontfindyou]

CT insists on this one taking place outside the office. Not least because she's not sure if this is about something about him, or something about her, given her... recent activities at the Leeds Estate. The public story is still that CT arrested Tarantulas breaking in and the fire was an accident, but... it's hard to say how much of the truth may have made it out. She knows Dahlia saw right through her.

So, she asks him to meet her at her home, where she's waiting for him in the small yard attached to the side.

"So. Am I somehow in trouble again, or is this something else?"

[maltesefalcon]

"You're not in trouble. I might be." Cerrit looks tense, and not because of CT's actions. He lands in her yard, finds a place to perch and begins to adjust his feathers with his beak, like the oversized cockatoo he is.

[liesdontfindyou]

CT deliberately chooses not to sit on the rather rickety bench against the wall, instead leaning against the tree that still has her target for knife practice nailed into it. She watches him with the kind of keen gaze that may never quite match up to Cerrit's, but still tries to see through people like glass.

"...in general, or am I not going to like what you're about to say?"

[maltesefalcon]

"The latter. This is where I lay out that I've been concealing certain information from you, and why. And I know that it's not going to be comfortable, and you might end up despising me."

Well. At least he's not flinching from the matter up front.

[saintoflangley]

A private conversation with Cerrit isn't that unusual on its face. The eisfuura, like Alex, does value discretion.

He knocks on the door to Cerrit's office. "You rang?"

[maltesefalcon]

"Alex. You know I've been unable to talk about Certain Things, the entire time I've known you. Right?" Look, if anyone's gotten most of it front-loaded, it's been Alex. He's olde enough to Get It, unlike the young firecrackers.

[saintoflangley]

"I thought it was more unwilling than unable - but yes, I'm aware."

He drums his fingers on the handle of his cane, thinking. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're able to talk about them now."

[maltesefalcon]

"No. I can't. But I want to tell you why I'm limited in this manner: I made a deal with one of the demon princes. My end of the bargain was that I would be unable to share information on a particular topic."

This is a confession, not a debrief. Not yet.

OPEN PROMPT - Skin and bones, and brains and blood (and CWs pertaining thereto)

[maltesefalcon]

After all his conversations (but perhaps especially the one with CT and the talk with Sherlock Holmes at the visitor center), Cerrit has a certain frustrated tension in him. Part of him wants to find a fight to pick, but there are more productive forms of bloodletting right now. He's a predator, and he is a hunter, after all.

Cerrit is not wearing any clothes today (but don't worry, he's fully fledged and doesn't have anything to show), nor is he carrying his hatchets. Instead, when he swoops down on a deer from high trees in the forest, it's just beak and talons and his body weight that take the beast down.

For better or worse, he is not the only person in the woods, when this happens, though. What do, when Big Bird Goes Swoop?

[hate_gettin_older]

No one else is immediately visible -- at least not to the average human -- but when Big Bird Goes Swoop, there's a wholly involuntary startled yelp from some nearby shrubbery.

[maltesefalcon]

"Ah, did I just steal your kill? I can share some of the meat; I wasn't going to eat it all out here anyway." It talks! In a smooth Travis Willingham voice! While tucking its wings back politely, and making itself look less like an overt threat!

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar emerges from the undergrowth, hands out and open in plain view, in his own attempt to look less like a threat.

"No, it's fine," he says, voice remarkably steady under the circumstances, "wasn't actually planning to kill it, just practicing getting close enough to."

[lightconductor]

Watson might have known Cerrit was there (and there's nothing quite like accompanying someone in the midst of a Nudist Mood to make him feel overdressed, he is finding) but it's still something of a shock to witness. Some part of him, some bit of primate brain structure that still recalls what it is to be hunted across the savanna, is suddenly keenly aware that he is in the presence of a predator of an entirely different class than his own species.

He swallows hard, and then grins as he hurries through the trees to catch up. Cerrit certainly doesn't need any of his help, but he should still be there. Just in case. Because.

[maltesefalcon]

"Do you want me to try to preserve the hide?" Cerrit's movement is much less in line with 'I am pretending to be a human' right now, leaning over his kill with his beak at the neck of the carcass. He'll drain the blood and work on disassembly, though certain prize bits will be eaten here in the field.

Even Aster's dinner didn't put him off fresh, raw hearts.

wildcard.

[decrypter]

It's a beautiful autumn day, and Helena Adams is walking in the fields. No work, and the great open space of it all calls to her in a way she hasn't felt in a long, long time. It's not like home, but the air is real. The grass is real. The trees and birds she hears are real. And so she walks, letting herself go after an impulse that she hasn't really chased.

Walking so far, though, has a drawback - when she actually stops and turns around, she frowns. At this point, she has no idea where she truly is, only that the earth smells nice and the leaves are rustling, and she touches a tree.

Okay. She thinks she knows what to do, and takes a deep breath before bringing her cane down on the earth. The sound is strange, too resonant to be something standard, and for a moment, she tilts her head and listens. She's lost...but not so badly that she cannot come back. Maybe if she heads down this particular other road...

[maltesefalcon]

"You don't want to go into that part of the woods."

The voice comes from above her--male, mature. Confident. Protective? Clearly this someone is up in the trees somewhere.

[decrypter]

Notably, her head does not jerk up to look, but her head tilts minutely. Ear a little up, standing still, listening.

"What's in that part of the woods, sir?"

A voice like that, she might listen to.