Quest - Scared Crows

“Finally!” Philadelphia exclaimed at the top of his lungs, annoying his trusted avian companion, Freedom, as well as spooking the normal, every-day citizens around them, two of which were a mother and a young son. While the young son looked at the oblivious self-proclaimed Eagle King with amazement, the mother was not as admiring. She gripped her son’s wrist as tight as she could and dragged him away from the loud lunatic. Despite the young boy’s protests, completely enthralled at the magnificence of the bird man before them, his puny prepubescent strength was no match for his fearful mother’s. “Agripalia! Such a beaut! Caw caw!”

He took in the salty fresh air, heaving a sigh of appreciation, before checking his palm menu. He wasn’t in the port city of Agripalia as a tourist unfortunately. He was actually here for a quest. Well, not here here. He was supposed to go to this quiet farm just outside of Agripalia. There was something about crows and a family of farmers having some sort of trouble with them.

“Heh,” Philadelphia scoffed as he skimmed through all the information he thought he needed to digest. “Crows… Always such a pest. No comparison to the majestic eagle, amirite, Freedom?”

“Caw caw!” Freedom rolled its eyes as it took to Philadelphia’s head as a makeshift nest, completely disinterested in all the hullabaloo its human was talking about. (Ugh, don’t talk to me, human.)

“Hahaha!” Philadelphia closed his palm menu, laughing boisterously at his companion’s response. “You said it, buddy. I think I’ve got everything we need. Let’s head to that farm and beat up some dastardly crows. Caw caw!”

Their trip was short. When the quest dude said that the farm was really pretty close to Agripalia, he wasn’t lying. Another thing he wasn’t lying about? How quiet this place was. Philadelphia found the farm quite boring, though why expected otherwise was beyond Freedom. Maybe it was because the farm was close to the city and Philadelphia thought there would be more people here? Then again, that could be the exact reason why the farm was pretty much a ghost town. Why would merchants, who had just gotten off their ship, travel to a farm when everything they’d ever need is in the port city itself? Whatever. Philadelphia wasn’t here to discuss economics and such. He was here to beat up some crows. Caw caw!

“So,” Philadelphia spaced out while the farm mother and farm father reiterated their plight, having already skimmed the quest briefing from the quest dude. “Where do I find the crows I need to beat up?”

“Caw caw!” Freedom shook its head while nestled comfortably on Philadelphia’s head. (You stupid flesh bag.)

“Right you are again, buddy!” Philadelphia confidently put both hands on his hips, laughing in excitement.

“Oh, uhm, I’m pretty sure it’s just a prank by some of the local kids. Nothing to worry about. I’m not even sure why Gloria here insisted on getting help from adventurers,” the farm father shook his head, apologetic for what he believed was a waste of Philadelphia’s time. “Wait, did you say crows?”

“It’s not just a prank, Steve!” the farm mother wasn’t having her stupid husband’s crap apparently, which surprised Philadelphia but in a good way. Too many quiet wife stereotypes everywhere. This one seemed like fun. “I’m sure it’s someone else, something else.”

Awkward silence. Even Freedom kept quiet at this point. While the farm father crossed his arms in peace, the farm mother stayed still, looking determined into the horizon. Maybe it was a glitch. Did Phil accidentally press the pause button? Was there a pause button?

“Uhm, okay,” he shrugged, already turning towards the prairie or whatever it was called, the place full of corns. Philadelphia didn’t major in farms, farming, whatever. He majored in pecking butts. Caw caw! “Anywho, whoever they are, whatever it is…” Philadelphia paused for some effect, imagining his theme playing in his head like he was some hooded archer in a gritty show. “I’m going to find them and beat them up.”

Another awkward silence. This time, Philadelphia broke off from a serious expression to a more jovial, excited tone, “I hope they’re crows. I really want to fight crows today.”

“Crows?” the farm mother interrupted him, putting a hand on his feathery shoulder. “Why would they be crows?”

Philadelphia slapped her back hard. Really hard. So hard, she ended up almost falling to the ground if it wasn’t for her quick-witted husband who caught her. “Because that’s what your request said. Scared crows.”

“Scarecrows!” the farm father wasn’t in the mood for Philadelphia’s crap, assisting his fallen wife back to her feet. “They’re scarecrows!”

“Exactly!” Philadelphia flashed the confused pair a confident grin. “Those crows have every right to be scared. The Eagle King Philadelphia is hot on their trail and he’s bringing with him his most trusted sidekick, Freeeeeedom!!!!”

“Caw caw!” Freedom flew off Philadelphia’s head and hovered a few inches above the humans. (This isn’t going to end well.)

 

Look who was here, practicing archery like she was straight outta The Hunger Games! Braid up her hair and stick a gold pin on her collar, Destiny Divebird was in this game for the long haul. “One of these days I oughta get better at this,” the lanky woman muttered, picking up the handful of crossbow bolts scattered on the ground in front of the target. She’d been practicing on a scarecrow she’d found and had been shooting at it for the better part of half an hour, trying to get her aim straight. Funnily enough, the longbow was actually easier for Destiny—call it her elf eyes, or maybe a little real-world knack. It was the hand crossbow with its rapid loading and firing that was giving her hell, and if she planned on ever getting another one she was gonna have to step up her game.

Returning to the starting line, she gripped the bolts in her hand and loaded the weapon. It was getting easier, step by step. Might be gettin’ the hang of this. She flung out her arm, pulling the trigger and unleashing the bolt in rapid-fire time.

She accidentally shot the leg off a passing bird, which exploded in a shower of hexagonal pixels and disappeared. Not the bird, just the leg. The bird fell to the ground, tweeting wildly. “Goddammit.”

That pretty much put a half to crossbow practice for the day. Twenty minutes later, Destiny showed back up at the farm where she’d found her impromptu target, lugging the scarecrow behind her. She puffed with exertion as she dragged the figurine, stake leaving a wobbly trail in the dirt behind her. “Whew! There we go.” She dusted off her hands, leaning the scarecrow up against the side of the house. If she had any guilty conscience for borrowing the thing and shooting the stuffing out of it, it sure didn’t show as she came around the corner, arms back behind her head.

“Crows? Shot one earlier,” she said easily as if she’d always been part of the conversation, thumbing behind her. “By accident. Actually, wasn’t a crow. Too small.” Maybe some kinda blackbird, she hadn’t gotten a real good look. Who was to say Terrasphere birds were the same as real ones, anyway? For all she knew, the singing, twittering forest canopy was just filled with generic fantasy bird silhouettes. Her eyes lit up when she saw Philadelphia and his hovering companion. “You got an eagle! ‘Merica! Dang—he’s sure somethin’ fine.”

The Yladian approached at an easy lope, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the enormous raptor. Pretty. Damn realistic. Guess everything is. She turned towards the farm folks, giving them a halfhearted little wave of greeting. “Just came to say I borrowed a scarecrow for a little bit for target practice, hope y’all don’t mind. Just saw ‘em sittin’ around the house, didn’t seem like you’d miss one for an hour.” Of course Destiny hadn’t heard of any quests. Hell, she hadn’t done a quest since she got her ass kicked and ended up being chased by Dire Stags all the way into Norforva. Wasn’t pretty.

 

Philadelphia narrowed his eyes at the conversational intruder. Intruding conversationalist? Whatever. She was one crow ahead of the King of Eagles. This magnificent warrior had already bested him in his unending, undying quest to destroy all crows. Or something like that. Was she an ally, though? Or a rival? Philadelphia needed to know. She might be of use to him. She might even be a worthy queen, his queen, the Queen of Eagles.

“Caw caw!” Philadelphia yelled out loud after blushing intensely while staring at @Destiny Divebird. He faked a cough, realizing how stupid that was. Or was it? It probably was. They had yet to be formally introduced. A gentlebird couldn’t just caw caw at someone he had just met. No. A gentlebird must be more courteous, respectful, polite… “Accident? Don’t be humble, my fair maiden. I’m sure you had your eye on the prize. A wonderful warrior as yourself wouldn’t have lucked out against those treacherous crows!”

Philadelphia took his sweet time shaking his fists at some imaginary crow, all while wearing a snarl, before continuing with his, uhm, speech? Yeah, sure, speech, all of it directed towards his, uhm, muse? Yeah, sure, muse. “How rude of me! Yes, this is my eagle…”

“Caw caw!” Freedom interrupted Philadelphia but to no avail. Its human just smiled at him, nodding, as if he understood what the majestic eagle was actually caw-cawing about. (I’m not your eagle! You’re lucky I’m even letting you come with me, you ignoramus!)

“…Freedom!” Philadelphia beamed with pride as the eagle rolled its eyes and conceded defeat, at least for now, choosing his head to rest its feathery behind. “She’s fine, isn’t she? Really fine…” He turned his full attention to Destiny, grabbing her hands in his. “But not as fine as you! Yes… You’re fine. Finer. Finer than a recliner.”

At the sight of the scarecrow Destiny brought with her, Philadelphia suddenly jumped back, letting the warrior’s hands go. He pointed his finger at the thing and screamed, “What is that?! Is it dead? Why does it look like that? Why is its body like that?”

Of course, Philadelphia has seen what a scarecrow is, but in this game, this world was a mystery. One thing could resemble something from the real world and end up a completely different thing. Case in point: Philadelphia here and Phil in the real world. This thing, whatever it was, could be some sort of cursed monster just made to look like an ordinary scarecrow. If anything, the King of Eagles did not want to get ambushed by the foul (fowl?) crows, those emo nightmare things.

“Caw caw!” Freedom sighed, rolling its eyes once more, as it found itself hovering above Philadelphia’s head, its respite interrupted by his shenanigans. (My gawd, what am I doing with my life?!)

 

“Caw?” Des echoed back, raising her eyebrows. Fair maiden? Aw, hell. Honestly, he’d been speakin’ her language more with the birdcalls. She scratched the back of her head sheepishly, wincing a little. Feel pretty bad, either way. I woulda grabbed it but it flapped off when I got near. Oh well—it’d get to eat a few more worms before some cat or dire-tiger or whatever the hell lived around this place got to it. Banding birds back in her wildlife program, she’d seen quite a few missing a foot or their toes. Usually disease, nasty business. Anyway, they get along all right. Shouldn’t be feelin’ guilty.

She did squint suspiciously at Freedom (which didn’t sound like any damn eagle she’d ever heard) but shrugged, accepting the giant raptor’s unconventional cry. “Your… head okay? Talons don’t poke?” she asked instead, frowning at the huge bird perching on the man’s skull. Maybe that was why he had that headdress on, just to protect his eyes from getting gouged out. Hell, there was a reason even falconers wore a gauntlet. “Me? More’n a recliner? Aw, you charmer, you got me all figured out.” Des felt a bubble of laughter threatening to escape her mouth, but managed to swallow it at Phil’s scream when he caught sight of the scarecrow. “Well, I sure shot the hell out of it, it oughta be dead if it wasn’t before.”

Trying to compose herself, Destiny rubbed at her face and turned to the farm couple, hitching her mouth to the side. “I feel like I only got half a story here—what’s goin’ on?” After the problem (and the quest) was explained, the Yladian gave a less-than-helpful shrug. “Pretty spooky,” she agreed, offering no solutions. Her relaxed expression crumpled into a grimace at the farmers' desperate faces. “Aw, all right, all right. We’ll figure somethin’ out. Lessee…” Well, who the hell knew how a bunch of scarecrows were gettin’ set up around the farmhouse every night? Prank or ghosts, can’t set ‘em up if there ain’t any to set.

“Team huddle, bird boy,” she said, beckoning Philadelphia to a free patch of dirt in the road. She took a bolt out of her bag and used it to draw in the dust. “Arright. Plan: we scrap the straw men. Get rid of ‘em. Who needs ‘em?” Destiny looked over her shoulder and saw one of the pair standing very close, looking concerned and clearly ready to object. She quickly elaborated. “Well, except for crows. Guess you need ‘em to scare those off, so they don’t eat your crops.” Des had heard tales of crows carrying off whole lambs and eating ‘em midair, so she could see the concern. “Hell, let’s just catch all the crows, then. That oughta take care of it, mm?” She looked at Philadelphia to see what he thought, already standing back up and dusting off her hands. "Got any bait?"

 

Philadelphia blushed a little, well, a lot, when Destiny asked him if he was okay, if his head was okay. The latter probably wasn’t but Philadelphia wouldn’t have gotten that joke. What he did get was a case of the giddy at Destiny’s slightest reference to caring. “It’s fine, milady!” Philadelphia beamed, using the hotness he was feeling from his cheeks to motivate him to be more valiant. Well, more than usual. “The talons don’t hurt. Freedom would never hurt me.”

“Caw caw!” Freedom responded, digging her talons deep into Philadelphia’s skull. (I could kill you, you know. Maybe I should. Hmm.)

Philadelphia blushed some more when Destiny took to him as a charmer—aww, yiss!—and felt his heart skip a beat when she explained that she had shot the scarecrow monster, killing it. It was as if he found himself in the throes of true love. But that had to wait as Destiny had to figure out what was going on from the couple. He fell even deeper in love with her when she started taking charge of the scene.

“Did you say ‘cuddle’?” Philadelphia grinned as he stretched out both arms, ready to give Destiny the warmest hug she would ever receive.

“Caw caw!” Fortunately for Destiny, Freedom came to her aid, taking flight off of Philadelphia’s head to scratch at his face with her talons. Unfortunately for Freedom, Philadelphia was quick, using his sleeves, his gauntlets, to make sure her talons did not scratch his regally handsome face. (What do you think you’re doing, you pervert?! Consent! Get her consent first!)

“All right, all right, jeez,” Philadelphia did his best to calm Freedom down, only for the avian familiar to get tired of his antics and resume digging her talons on his head. “You don’t have to be jealous, Freedom. You’ll always be my number one bird.” He leaned forward to whisper to Destiny. “But you’ll always be my number one babe.” Nailed it! He leaned back and put his hands on his hips, beaming brightly, proud of whatever that was.

Philadelphia nodded his head at every word that crawled out of Destiny’s beautiful mouth, smile and pose both maintained throughout. “Don’t worry about the crows, milady! I’ll handle them,” he narrowed his eyes, smiling, pure unadulterated determination written on his unique face. “Wait, bait?”

“Caw caw!” Freedom took flight once again off Philadelphia’s head, choosing instead to hover right beside Destiny’s shoulder. (Use that idiot as bait. He looks like a scarecrow, anyway. A punch-able one.)

 

What a flight of fancy! If Philadelphia had been looking for someone dumb enough to genuinely swoon over some stupid wordplay, he’d just found a taker. “Number-One Babe!” Destiny crowed in absolute delight. Works for me! She put her hands on her hips to mirror him, grinning broadly from where she stood across from the eagle scout. “Now you gotta be my number-one bait, hear?” She figured she’d have to set off the trap, so her partner in crime would have to be pretty damn tempting to draw all the crows in. What to do? Seeds, steak, shinies? Maybe a combination of the three.

Des jogged up to the farmer’s wife, sending her off to bring back the stuff she thought they’d need, then jogged back to Philadelphia. I’ve got a Hunting bonus to trap-making, that oughta help. Now. “So, you reckon you can get your eagle to chase some crows towards us? We oughta draw plenty of ‘em in, but if he can just round up the stragglers we’ll be in business.” She looked up with an eyebrow quirking, blue eyes bright. From the look on his face, the guy looked like he could handle anything she threw at him. Destiny decided to take that in stride and glanced over her shoulder where the big bird was hovering. “Mmm... you think you can handle that, ‘Merica?”

Several ums announced the return of the farmer’s wife, arms laden with silverware, a sack of grain, a piece of meat, and a huge roll of chicken wire. “Thanks! We’ll take care of your problem, don’t sweat it,” Destiny said to the woman, who gave her a weak (and doubtful) smile and went away again. The black-haired elf stepped up close to Philadelphia, eyeing him over. “Arright, let’s put these here…”

Working with startling speed and efficiency, the ranger began to rig up a decorative grid of brightly-gleaming forks and spoons, crossing around to the man’s back to secure the unconventional breastplate around his body. “Lookin’ good, crowbait!” Destiny reached out as if to take his hand and plopped the fresh, juicy cut of steak in it instead. “Hang onto that, we’ll need it in a sec.”

Someone was clearing their throat behind her and Destiny scowled. “Who’s naggin’ me? We’re tryin’ to fall in love here.” Ghost-style, Patrick Swayze. C'mon. She twisted at part of the makeshift vest with her arms around Phil, a piece of wire clenched between her teeth. She craned her neck and managed to see it was the farmer, who looked taken aback, but was holding a couple of nets he said he used for wrangling the chickens. Pretty strange chicken-handling, but all right. Des knew just what to do with that one—all she needed was to rig it up and take the right kinda shot with her crossbow.

“Think you can walk under all that?” Destiny banged on Phil's chest, making sure no stray bird beaks were gonna stab him. She took a step back, admiring her handiwork, and then turned to the eagle in all seriousness for a second opinion. “How’s he look? Pretty eye-catchin’?” She sure hoped the crows would think so.

 

Philadelphia laughed, excited at the thought of working with his queen, "Of course! I'd be honored to be your number-one... Wait, bait?" Before the King of Eagles to voice out his concern, mostly his protests, @Destiny Divebird was already making plans in her head, even going as far as reeling in the farm wife to make those plans a reality. Philadelphia was a bit worried but he was also more than inspired at the warrior woman's show of initiative and determination. She seemed like the perfect queen indeed. Philadelphia beamed at that idea before turning to Freedom.

"Caw caw!" Philadelphia's eagle companion switched from hovering in the air to once again taking her place on her human's head, half-mocking her human and half-responding to Destiny. (Don't worry about me, female human. I'm good to go. Girl power and all that. We should be worrying about this idiot. He might get distracted from swooning over you.)

"Of course!" Philadelphia gave Freedom his vote of confidence. "My eagle..." He winced as Freedom dug her talons deep in his head in protest against that lie. "...has never once failed me. She's as loyal as she is brave!"

Before Philadelphia and Freedom can react to anything, Destiny was all over the King of Eagles, though not in the way he would have probably wanted her to. Destiny started to put things on him, make him an armor of sorts, or more precisely, turn him into a human scarecrow. Philadelphia just looked at her as she went, mostly in confusion, as he didn't know what to do to help, especially what to do with his hands, which made him look as awkward as a high school boy getting his make-up done by his high school crush. Let's not go over the details of that allusion. It'd be weird.

She said I look good! Man, she's really in love with me. What can I say? I am pretty charming.

Philadelphia's train of thought was cut off, and his confusion was multiplied, when Destiny handed him fresh steak. "Uhm, what am I---" He didn't even get to finish his sentence, as his brain cut him off, again, when Destiny mentioned the word love. Philadelphia started imagining an avian kingdom ruled by himself and Destiny, with Freedom and the rest of this world's birds at their beck and call, the crows defeated and put out of business. He was gushing hard when Destiny shot him a question.

"Oh, uhm, yes, of course!" His confidence was as great as his stupidity, as Freedom would agree with. He started to practice walking with everything, and although he was bursting with confidence, he looked like a complete moron, a clunky robot thing, as he did so. If Freedom could laugh, she would've laughed at him. Unfortunately, she could only judge her human with those eyes. "Caw caw!" (He looks like a bargain bin cosplay of the tin man fused with the scarecrow, though the latter would be more than appropriate, considering this one also doesn't have a brain.)

"You think I can beat up those scared crows with all this?" Philadelphia flashed Destiny a smile, posing like how he saw a knight-in-shining-armor would. Impressing his future queen should be his top priority, despite the fact that he was on a quest that should be a higher priority than anything else. Oh, well. Birb's gotta birb.

 

“Sure! Well, ‘beat up’ ain’t quite what I was thinkin’…” Destiny trailed off, squinting at the man a little for the first time as if she’d just realized they might not be a hundred percent on the same page. Huh. Do I gotta be worried about making a real murder out of these crows? Hell, she was all about relocation, but she didn’t want some kinda bird genocide on her hands just because she thought it’d be easier than trying to figure out who kept movin’ all these scarecrows around. Scarecrows! They still had to get rid of ‘em.

The black-haired woman beckoned @Philadelphia , heedless of how inconvenient his chiming, clanking new outfit might be. Also the steak. “C’mon, let’s get rid of some of these things. What do you think? Burn ‘em, or throw ‘em off the cliffs?” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, jerking her head. It was a little bit of a walk to the seaside where they could really dispose of a lot of bodies—fake bodies—but she was willin’ to do it. Burning might be easier, though. “If these’re all possessed by kids or ghosts we can’t keep ‘em around, y’know?”

“How d’you plan to beat a crow, anyway?” Destiny asked as she lugged a few of the awkward straw-bodies to start piling them up in the middle of the farmer’s driveway. At least it wasn’t gonna put any of their crops in danger if they did burn it! “Weapon of choice?” She knew plenty of people who liked to take a pistol to crows in the field, could be a damn nuisance, but she didn’t know what the procedure was like here. Hell, for all she knew, Phil might be plannin’ on taking them out of the air with magical fireballs or somethin’ like that.

As they worked (presumably) the sun reflecting off the strange vest combined with the smell of meat (which the King of Eagles really didn’t need to be holding, but don’t question Destiny’s logic dammit) began to attract a variety of distant black specks, drawn in by the curiously flashing beacon down by the farm. They wheeled above and could be seen streaking faintly in from the nearby fields. She shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting up at the sky. “Aw hell. Here they come!” She squeezed Philadelphia on the arm and gave him the nod, eyes bright. “Do your thing, bird boy.” Des then retreated to prime her net-and-crossbow trap from a safe distance, throwing him a thumbs-up.

 

Huh. What is she thinking? Philadelphia narrowed his eyes at his queen. The very idea of not being up crows was enough to make him suspicious of her motives. Was she just seducing him so she could take his throne? Was Freedom right in not trusting her? Was--- His train of thought was cut off when Destiny beckoned him. "Coming!" he beamed like a high school boy following his high school crush, much to the disgust of Freedom who narrowed her own eyes at her human. Such a disgrace, this child.

"Wait, things? Burn 'em? Throw 'em? What are you talking about, my love?" Philadelphia almost had a heart attack when he was fortunate enough to gaze upon Destiny blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. He found it so adorable, so beautiful, so marry-able. "Kids? Crows? What?" He was starting to think he was missing something, but when Destiny turned the conversation back to the crows, all of that immediately evaporated into thin air.

"Simple! I'm going to poke them with my mighty spear," Philadelphia triumphantly exclaimed, whipping out something that he probably found lying somewhere. It was neither mighty nor was it the first thing that would come to anyone's mind when they'd hear the word spear. It looked like a stick with a jagged piece of rock wrapped on one end with some flimsy rope. Philadelphia started to "show off" his "skills" with the "spear," which was a pretty sad sight to behold. If she could, Freedom would've facepalmed.

"Caw caw!" Freedom called out to the pair as the crows came out to take on their challenge. (Time to die, dork-king.)

Philadelphia instinctively turned to skies, burning his eyes for a bit, blinding himself in the process, but Destiny squeezing his arms wasn't something he wouldn't notice. With a grin on his face, he turned to her and vowed, "I got this, my queen." He then closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Freedom scowled at him in disgust, or at least attempted to. "Caw caw!" (You really are going to die, aren't you? This is going to be hilarious.) The eagle stayed with her human, hovering in the air. It was going to be the two of them, tag-teaming these despicable murderous crows. Just like old times.

Philadelphia brandished his makeshift spear and called out to his antagonists, unafraid of them, unwise of him, "Caw caw! Evil birbs versus eagle birbs, we're going to fly, reach the sky, and clip your wings!"

As if offended, most probably, the crows rained upon Philadelphia and Freedom, with the human piercing whatever he could pierce from the air and the eagle duking it out with whatever she could with her strong, formidable talons. It was going to be a blood bath. Or a black bath? A black blood bath? A bloody black bath? Whatever. Things were going down. The crows were going down. Caw caw!

 

She’d already turned her back and wasn’t watching anyway to see Phil’s kissy-lips, sadly. Preparing for the ambush, Destiny had taken a knee a little ways away behind the pile of well-stuffed scarecrows, the tip of her net-rigged crossbow hovering just above one of the clumsily sewn faces. Christ, these things are creepy. No wonder the lady’s so freaked out by ‘em. After this adventure they’d have pulled off two good deeds—dealing with this scarecrow weirdness and also curing these peoples’ pest problem. Pat on the back all around. Still hoping not to kill ‘em all, but it’s too much to hope I could net every one of ‘em. Having seen the so-called “mighty spear,” Destiny figured she didn’t have too much to worry about anyway. Any crow-casualties along the way were probably inevitable.

Caw, caw! Philadelphia and Freedom’s signature cry burst in a torrent of noise from the throats of their enemies as the birds swarmed in. Well, ‘swarm’ was an exaggeration. But there were definitely twenty or so real interested in that steak they’d found when they followed the shiny lights, and these confident bastards weren’t about to let a lazy eagle and a pointy stick deter them from their snack. Yikes. Her arm jerked as she struggled to choose a single target—there were so damn many of them, all hovering and beating their wings. Hoo, boy! Destiny watched that eagle take a crow down with those talons and gave a low whistle. That’d be nice to have around, for sure.

As much fun as the crows surely found it to mob Philadelphia and the eagle, the larger raptor easy game when they had strength in numbers, their goal was still the steak. As two of the black birds seized it in their claws and attempted to lift it (or maybe just part of it—hell, Des had lost track of the slab of meat with everything going on) she trained the tip of her bow on them and let it fire. The bolt flew true, piercing the steak like an archer’s apple. The crows let go, cawing angrily, but it was too late for them—the net wound around the shaft was already settling, trapping four or five and tangling the birds as it settled to the ground.

One more net—here goes. Hoping Freedom would take care of the last stragglers she couldn’t pin down, Destiny loaded her crossbow and trained it higher up, aiming for a group hovering above Philadelphia’s head, just out of reach of his spear. Several of their kind had fallen to the man’s wild jabs already—surprisingly—but these ones were more wily. “Gotcha!” Destiny slammed the trigger and watched the net burst up above, catching the birds’ wings and legs and immediately dropping to the ground. Unfortunately, two other things happened. Since she’d shot above Phil’s head, the net fell on top of him as well, including its burden of very upset crows making very upset noises.

Second, right as she shot, she recognized one son-of-a-bitch—it was that bird whose damn leg she’d shot off back in the field. “You’re no crow, what’re you doin’ here?” Destiny hollered, standing up. The net was already doing its work, however, and the fool one-legged blackbird fell onto Philadelphia with the rest of the cawing bastards. “Hang on, hang on! Time out, I got somethin’ in here I wasn’t supposed to.” Dropping her weapon, Destiny jogged towards the man and kneeled down to extract the angrily chirping blackbird, fingers stinging at its beak and claws. "Ow!" The very few crows who remained were flying away in a hurry, torn black feathers drifting behind them. They wouldn’t be back in a hurry!

 

The battle had been fast, the war furious. Philadelphia, the mighty King of Eagles that he was, felled down a billion crows with his massive and sharp spear. Well, it was closer to fifty, maybe twenty, was it just ten? But that doesn’t really matter. Philadelphia was valiant in this skirmish, and his valor had earned him and Freedom, and his beautiful queen, too, the victory that their blessed and well-endowed party truly deserved.

That was certainly not how Freedom saw things, however. While the dork king whatever was stabbing at the air and failing to actually kill anything until his luck saved his butt, the actual eagle was getting mobbed by the black bastards. The crows had the numbers advantage, and also the advantage of actually having a clear goal. The steak was incentive enough but Philadelphia’s annoying face added fuel to their fire. Freedom had to contend with getting scratched a couple of times but she was able to pulverize those that opposed her. Well, some of them anyway. The rest dodged her attacks.

That was, until Freedom had had enough. Using the distraction caused by Destiny trapping some of the crows with her ranged weapon, Freedom quickly and decisively took care of the survivors, knocking them out with her far superior avian build. In a matter of minutes, the crows had been dealt with. Freedom felt a surge of pride at her victory. That was, until she heard Philadelphia laugh.

“Caw caw!” the arrogant fool made a triumphant pose, staring at the fleeing cowards. “What did I tell you, my queen? Philadelphia and Freedom are an unbeatable duo! Caw caw!”

Freedom rolled her eyes, and catching her breath, took her place on top of Philadelphia’s head. She would make no comments this time. She didn’t need to exert all that extra effort. Her kind of warrior deserved this silence, this respite from all the fighting. She would have to recover for a while. And then she’ll let him have it.

Noticing Destiny was on the ground, attending to one of their captured crows, Philadelphia bent a knee in front of his queen, much to Freedom’s annoyance, and looked her in the eye with the most charming face he could muster. “Were you hurt, my love?” Without waiting for her response, he closed his eyes and puckered his lips, moving slowly forward for a romantic kiss.

 

This damn blackbird had gotten itself tangled worse in the net than all the crows put together. How that had happened was a mystery—you’d think missing a limb would give it a “leg up” when it came to having things to tangle around. “C’mere, stupid,” Destiny muttered, pinning it down carefully with one hand while she picked at the netting with the other. One of the crows managed to peck her and she snatched her hand back. “Ow!” She sucked at her knuckle where it had drawn blood and finished detangling the innocent bystander, carefully drawing it out of the net where the crows still struggled. “Gotcha.” She wrapped her hand safely around its body, pinning down its wings and pinching just on either side of its remaining leg so it couldn’t scratch her. “Phew. All done. So that went pretty—”

Destiny turned already talking, and came straight face-to-face with Philadelphia. The man had pushed his face comically close and she almost went cross-eyed, jerking her head back a little in surprise. Her eyes wandered just a couple inches above his, where a full-sized eagle was still judgmentally perched and making equally intense eye contact. Whoops. Her gaze snapped back down. “Uhuh.” She held up her finger, which had one crow peck-mark. That didn’t seem to be enough to stop bird boy from moving in, lips puckered, eyes squeezed shut. You think he’d notice if I gave him lil’ Peggy to kiss instead? Des briefly considered substituting the blackbird still in her hand and gave it up as a lousy idea. Don't wanna scare the poor thing.

So she did it. What the hell, why not? “Christ, arright, fine.” Swiftly, the Yladian leaned forward and planted a quick smooch on the spear-toting beastmaster’s lips. “Good job, that what you wanna hear? C’mon and help me hang some of these dead ones up, the others’ll see ‘em and’ll stay away from now on.” She actually did need the help, since she was still holding a little bird in one fist and was effectively gonna have to work one-handed ‘til she found something better to bag it with. ‘Til she had time to check it out, she didn’t want the fool thing flying off again and getting in the way of her crossbow a third time. Speaking of which, now that she’d netted ten or twelve, what was she supposed to do with these live crows? Band ‘em? That sounded like a project.

 

Ooohhhhhh, yessss!!! Philadelphia, the majestic King of Eagles, got himself a kiss, on the lips (yes, on the lips!), from his queen, @Destiny Divebird. Everything around him began to explode in color. His heart rate went up, his heart beating fast, the fastest it ever had, and he could feel himself grow hot all over, especially on his cheeks. It was a just reward, the best reward, for his victory, their victory, and Philadelphia couldn't be any happier. In fact, he found himself drowning in all that euphoria, his brain stopping, his face all red and his eyes all dreamy and stuff. He just stood there, on spindly legs, barely upright, staring lovingly at Destiny like some kid who just had his first kiss.

"Caw caw!" Freedom wasn't amused. Rolling her eyes, she departed Philadelphia's head and rested on a wooden sign close by. The sign was barely readable, as if something had slashed it and smashed it to pieces. Freedom shook her head at both Philadelphia and Destiny, completely disgusted. (Disgusting. Humans are so pathetic.)

"Help you..." Philadelphia sounded more like a zombie than an actual thinking person, which was probably just right. Anyone who thought to themselves they were a king of a species that could not decline his imposed royalty was most probably not thinking straight. What next? He'd think he could fly and actually attempt to jump off a cliff? That might be a good idea, to be honest. "Of course, my love! Anything you say... I'll do anything and everything you say..."

He stumbled over a murder (double meaning, caw caw!) of crows but managed to actually do the job and help Destiny. Barely. He got one, two, three, but the fourth one he just piled on the third and it ended up falling back down to the ground as he squatted in place, knees bent, eyes on Destiny still. He ended up getting stuck in that time loop of picking up a fourth dead crow, only for it to fall back on the ground, again and again and again.

Finally, Freedom has had enough. Eyes on fire, Freedom made her battle cry, which roughly translated to a threat on Philadelphia's life, before attacking him with her powerful talons.

"Ow, hey!" Philadelphia was able to shield his eyes and most of his face with his free arm, but it did not stop Freedom from trying to blind him for the ninth time today. "What's up with you, woman?!"

In a reflex, Philadelphia swiped, with his free arm, at Freedom but, like every woman he's ever tried to woo, she was just too fast for him. The momentary scuffle was enough to jolt some sense back into the King of Eagles, however, and he finally, somewhat, got his brain working again. He immediately got down to business, picking up as many of the crows he could, a huge black cloud of avian corpses over his chest, him carrying it like someone who was carrying all their laundry with their hands and arms in place of common sense and a laundry bag.

"What are we gonna do with these?" Philadelphia caught up with Destiny, grinning. "Where are we hanging them? Is your hand okay? Are those live crows? What are we doing with live crows? Are we going to roast them?"

There was a weird, evil-ish grin on Philadelphia's lips as that last question came out of his mouth. Roast chicken was good. He wondered if roast crows will be even better.

 

Pickin’ up crows, pickin’ up crows… hell, it wasn’t the nicest job she’d ever had, but it’d do the trick. It’d sure work a hell of a lot better than a bunch of stuffed straw men. Crows were smart, they knew those weren’t real people—but they could sure tell those were real crow bodies strung up. They did have to string ‘em, of course, wasn’t fair to ask the farming couple to do it when Destiny had walked in here and changed everything around on them. To be fair, they’d asked for it.

“You oughta get some goggles,” Destiny commented, turning to see Freedom attacking the man’s face. Sheesh, that was how people got their eyes poked out. “I know a guy who never takes ‘em off, must get addicting.” Anyway. She had to put this damn bird down before she could get any work done. Destiny set the rescued blackbird on top of the pile of discarded scarecrows and turned back around to see @Philadelphia , who had a couple questions for her. “Nah, just a bad peck.” She wiggled her fingers and waved it off with the injured hand, dismissing the concern. Wasn’t like it was poisonous.

Right—arright, she had a plan to come up with. “Mmm…” She looked around and her eyes brightened when she saw the man still clad in his shiny vestments. “That’ll do. Hold still for a sec. I ever ask your name? I got your bird's.” As well as she could while avoiding embracing the pile of dead crows Philadelphia was holding, Destiny detached the awkward mantle of chicken wire and silverware and held it up against the light, squinting as it glinted brightly in the sun. “I’ll unravel at this end and you tie ‘em on with this extra wire.”

True to her word, she got to work, calloused fingers twisting at the tough wire to make something more like a long string than a cape. The shiny bits of silverware she left on—now that the crows knew what that gleaming meant, it’d probably spook them just as much as their shriveled-up brethren. “Oh, hell. You ever eat a roast crow?” Destiny grinned wryly, looking up from her work. “Most animals taste like what they eat, so I’d figure crows would taste like roadkill. And nah, I got a plan for ‘em, don’t you worry.” She actually had absolutely no idea what to do with the bags of live crows. She just hesitated to kill ‘em. Population control could go one step too far, after all.

 

Philadelphia tilted his head, like a confused chicken does in those animated shows, when @Destiny Divebird mentioned knowing another guy. Another guy… Oh, no! Is she already betrottled? Bethroated? Betroth--- Engaged? Did I commit the ultimate sin of cohorting… Cartwheeling? Cavor--- Making kissy faces with someone who was already with someone else? Say it isn’t so! If Destiny hadn’t spoken again, Philadelphia would’ve probably ended up moaning and whining in his head for three hours straight. That was, if Freedom wouldn’t end him right then and there for disgracing her very existence.

“Oh, no! Shall I kiss your boo-boo, my bay-bay?!” Philadelphia was already puckering his lips even before Destiny could answer, but his attention span was short, and he was quick to move on when his avian queen asked for his name. “My name? Oh, right, we have yet to be properly introduced!”

“Caw caw!” Freedom rolled her eyes, perched on a broken wooden sign. (That’s a good thing, girl. Mm-hm.)

“That’s right, my valiant avian friend!” Philadelphia put both hands on both hips, striking a heroic pose. At least it was heroic in his mind. If anyone asked Freedom, she probably would disagree. Scratch that. She would, most definitely, disagree. “My name is… PHILADELPHIA! And I am the majestic King of Eagles! Caw caw!”

He paused, keeping still in his pose, to allow Destiny to take it in, man, all of it, man. Everyone knew that realizing right then and there that you were in the presence of an amazing, heroic, grand man could put anyone in a coma. He did not want to spend three years watching over Destiny as she laid there in his bed, all unconscious and stinky. That was a fate worse than death, perhaps only equal to, well, death. Or something.

“Caw caw!” Freedom shook her head, un-amused. (You are such a piece of crap, you sad, sad pixelated man.)

He let out a laugh, completely delusional in his understanding of his eagle familiar. “That I am, my friend. That I am.” Philadelphia turned to Destiny with a goofy grin but was immediately met with orders, which he actually got excited about. He perked up and gave her a salute. “Aye, aye, my queen!” He quickly did what he was told, as best as he could. Narrowing his eyes, he realized roast crows might truly be disgusting. It was cannibalism. Why would he consume his own kind? Granted that eagles were far superior compared to crows, they were still basically in the same category, birds. “Yeah, they’re probably gross.”

Philadelphia scratched his nose with his hand, smiling at the sight of Destiny’s face, “So, birby, was yer plan?!”