[VIDEO]

[Nothing but blue sky, for a moment, and then he sets it down on something, leaning slightly into the frame, but watching something further out. There's a faintly pleased curl to his lips.

In the sky a dark bird circles and wheels, never straying too far before it turns to float back towards this rooftop, as though held by an invisible tether.

After a minute or two the bird turns a final time, growing in size as with a few pumps of powerful wings it approaches the camera, settling mere feet away.]

Sentimental,

[a woman's voice murmurs, low and taunting. The man laughs, and the video ends.]

( Non-IC Cut for Image )

[Community Post]

The hawk is gone, and I must admit I'll rather miss it. I suppose this means I have a soul after all? Or rather, that such things exist. I never thought about it much (although I suppose ending up here should have piqued my interest.)
I hope this curse repeats, as they evidently sometimes do... I enjoyed Staja's conversation; after all, being an extension of myself she was superb company. Although, as she pointed out, they're not really gone... just no longer present in quite the same way.

If I listened closely, now, could I hear those feathers rustle? Oh, I knew you, Matkustaja-- wings and talons and sharp eyes. I know what you are, what forged you into that shape. It was strange to have it in plain sight like that... If I'd been the only one affected, I might have suspected I was losing my mind. That you were merely a manifestation of desires too long ignored and denied, here. If only there had been some warning-- it would have been a pleasure to hunt.

|[ooc: strikes = private like whoa ^^;]|

[Accidental Voice Post]

—n’t like animals. I don’t want a pet, even if you can talk.

[An unfamiliar, feminine laugh.] I’m not a pet, I told you. I’m your daemon.

Demon. Right. Cute. But—

Not like that, Brian. I’m you, in a manner of speaking— a part of you, and I always have been. In your world, we aren’t separate, so you don’t see me. But if you’d been born into the right world you’d see me all the time. [A faint sound as of rustling feathers.] You’ll get used to it.

Right, but… look, bird—

Staja.

Staja?

Matkustaja~

…Right. Look, Staja, this is just a curse, so don’t get… oh, hell,—

[Click.]

[End Voice Post]

|[ooc: The Harris’ Hawk: beautiful, predatory, and unlike most raptors— willing to hunt with others. Oh yeah. All responses will be voiceposts unless otherwise marked, and if folks or other daemons want to chat with Staja, she’s big and bold enough to wrestle her way to the mic :3]|