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The forest was quiet, as it usually was. The only time that noise really made its way through the trees was when the survivors were actively making noise, tossing leaves and dirt and twigs into the air as they tried to find the small amount of freedom they could in a place like this.
The two currently traveling through the woods were quieter than the other survivors often were, making their way to a particular spot in the woods–a tree stump, where the two of them had had a direly important conversation months earlier.
Builderman was the first to speak, clearing his throat and motioning to the stump, “If y’ could sit down, I’d ‘preciate it.”
Shedletsky made a heavy sigh, settling himself down on the stump, reducing his frankly ridiculous height down to making it so that his head was easily reachable by Builder. Right away Builder grabbed at one of his head-wings, picking through it.
“How long has it been since y’ even did a cursory once-over?” Builder hummed, though it was sort of half annoyed and half squicked out, “Y’ got loose feathers everywhere!”
“...I’ve been busy,” Shed sighed, “Stressed, I guess? I’m not good with negative emotions, you know that.”
“Yer handlin’ em better than y’ did last time,” Builder laughed through his nose.
Shed paused and blinked at him. Builder was about to ask him what was wrong, but he spoke first, the head-wing that wasn’t being held instead folded partially over his face, like he was embarrassed.
“We’re alone, you know,” the swordsman laughed, “You don’t have to use the fake voice around me.”
Builder paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes and feigning annoyance, “You are such a spoiled bird, you know that, right?”
Shed laughed with a trill, nearly yanking his head-wing out of Builder’s grasp to clearly hide his whole face, “I knowwwwww, but you love amusing me, don’t you?” he put on what was one of the most pathetic looks Builder had ever gotten from him, leaving Builder to make a huff, trying to hide his own smile.
“Simply because you’re amusing in return, really,” he looked away, resisting the urge to hide his face with his hat.
“Awww,” Shed leaned into the hold Builder had on his head-wing, trilling louder, “You sound like you did when we first met! What happened to that scary creature, huh?”
“I can still be scary,” Builder insisted, “You’ve seen me be scary. But being scary ruins the game.”
“Still on your whole ‘game’ nonsense, huh Buildsy?” Shed laughed, “How long have you been playing this now? And what exactly is the reward for ‘winning’ your game?”
“Well I can tell you one of the rewards I want to hold onto.”
Without a warning, Builder cupped Shed’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on the bridge of his nose, resulting in an alarmed flustered squawk.
“The cute little bird in front of me, for one.”
“Hey!” Shed sputtered, “You can’t just surprise me like that!”
Builder grinned, going back to picking through Shed’s head-wings, “And yet I did.”
The two fell silent as Builder carefully picked out loose, dirty feathers from one head-wing, then from the other. Eventually he sat cross-legged on the floor to pick through Shed’s hip-wings, humming to himself. The lack of talking lasted for a long while until Shed was the first to break it, a contemplative hum in his throat for a moment, like he was choosing his words.
“...Do you remember how we first met?” he asked, peering back at Builder on the ground.
Builder paused before he spoke, clearing his throat, “...we as in as you are now?”
“...For once, no,” Shed laughed quietly, some implacable emotion on his face, “for once I am referring to Telamon and I as the exact same person.”
“Well…” Builder hummed, as if he had to dredge up the memory like it wasn’t crystal clear in his head, “I was trying to figure out how something had gone wrong. Eventually Sssp–Dusekkar had found a massive sprawling floating island, and on it some…grand fiery beast. Now I nearly went and immediately took care of It, thinking this was just some obstacle to overcome. I nearly just outright revealed my face to It when It spoke, just simply saying–”
“Telamon has been waiting for a worthy challenger,” Shed quoted, waving a hand, “and It’s wondering if you could be that one!”
“And then I kicked your ass.”
“And then you kicked my ass!”
“And spared you because I thought it was amusing when your speech quirk faltered and you fell into first person.”
“In my defense, there was a scary thing more powerful than a god that could have very easily killed me,” Shed grumbled good-naturedly, turning to laugh into his hand.
“But instead I thought it’d be fun to just…see what you do,” Builder shrugged, rolling his fingers to crush the keratin sheath of a pin feather, “And frankly, quite glad I did. Not just because of how much I treasure you, but simply because there’s something so…/interesting/ about your brain.”
“You have such an ‘interesting’ way of flirting, Finch,” Shed trilled.
“And if I recall correctly, you’ve told me on many occasions that you enjoy my methods.”
“I do!”
The two fell silent again as Builder continued to pick through Shed’s wings, making sure every last loose feather was out and every single feather that was ready to be released from its sheath was. After he finished, Builder stood up, stretching and popping his back.
“Mind if I ask you a question?” Builder motioned for Shed to scoot over a bit, thankful the stump was large enough that there was space for the two of them at the same time, “About your preferred form.”
“Shoot for it,” Shed shrugged.
“When we get out of here, have you thought about finally allowing yourself to have back wings again?” Builder peered up at him, tilting his head.
Shed paused, looking uncomfortable for a moment as he bit at his lip, “I don’t…think I deserve that still,” his voice held a nervous laugh to it, “That’d make me look far too much like Telamon, and also if…well, there’s people Telamon hurt who can’t fly anymore, so why should I be allowed to?”
Back to the separation, Builder observed with a hum of acknowledgement, “I think your atonement's been long enough, don’t you?”
“Long enough?” Shed laughed, “for all that It did? Yeah, sure, it’ll be long enough when Scripter and everyone else It hurt thinks it has been!”
At that thought, Shed suddenly sat up fully.
“That’s right! Scripter! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him!”
Builder narrowed his eyes for a moment, curious, “Go on…?”
“I…” Shed suddenly seemed to get cold feet, running a talon-hand through his hair, “Scripter only really did all that because he was upset, right? That he didn’t get the justice he deserved when Telamon…y’know.”
“...That /is/ what he cited as his reasoning, yes.”
“Well…” Shed shuffled a bit, picking at his pants, “We’re…already forgiving a lot of crimes when we get out of here, with the whole killer side and all…can we tack Scripter on to that?”
“...Would you be happy with that outcome?” Builder tilted forward a bit, “We’d most likely have to forgive Lucky too. The two are inseparable, really.”
“It’d make me happy, yes,” Shed nodded, speaking like he had learned exactly how to get what he wanted over the many many years he’d known Builder.
“Then we’ll do it. Slate wiped clean,” Builder made a wave motion with his hand, as if he could wipe away the sentence here and now and magically make things okay for Scripter and Lucky outside The Spectre’s realm.
Shed made a trill and at once abruptly grabbed Builder in a giant hug, nuzzling his face against his, “Thank you, Buildsy!!”
“If Scripter says he’s forgiven you, /then/ will you consider having back wings again?” Builder nuzzled Shed right back, humming the question more than actually saying it.
“...Consider, not promise,” Shed settled on after a minute, setting Builder back down, “I think I’d have to re-learn how to fly, it’s been…decades.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Builder assured, “We always do.”
Always figure it out, just like they figured out how to deal with the aftermath of The Shattering Of Telamon. Just like they figured out how to raise two kids, and deal with the betrayal of one. Just like they figured out how to deal with being here, and figured out how to start planning their way out.
Eventually, Builder shook himself off, sighing, “I really shouldn’t be doin’ th’ real voice fer long, y’know,” he adjusted his hat back into place, “Don’t wanna slip while talkin’ to someone who ain’t too comfy with it!”
“I don’t understand why they’d be unsettled by it,” Shed whined with a distinct frown.
“Y’see,” Builder laughed, “Yer used to it! Meanwhile er’yone else hears it, and hey, who’s th’ guy with th’ closest voice t’ that that they regularly hear?”
“The Spectre, I guess,” Shed groaned, “But that’s just plain stupid. So now they’re gonna go after you for what you are?”
“You already know that summa them ain’t too fond’a me, Falcon,” Builder laughed again, this time ever so slightly muted, “That’d just give ‘em more reason t’ not trust me.”
“That’s stupid, you know,” Shed narrowed his eyes, leaning a bit forwards, “If they don’t like you for your species, then by that logic, they shouldn’t like Kidd or Sev for their species!”
“Sev’s only part’a that species ‘cause he edited his own codin’ to make him part one,” Builder waved a hand, “And they’re apprehensive of Kidd ‘cause of what he’s bein’ forced t’ do.”
“But that’s for what he’s doing, not for his species,” Shed insisted, “If they don’t like what you are, then…then…”
Shed paused for a moment, then shook his head.
“Well that’s just plain stupid! If you told them, I would defend you. Dusekkar would too, y’know, even if he’s not in the know right now. Sev would defend you!”
Builder stared for a minute before he laughed, shaking his head, “Yer still pretty damn smart, y’know that?”
“The stupidity’s a front,” Shed grinned, “Helps the whole distinction thing.”
“Like m’ voice helps with mine?” Builder smirked.
Shed paused, blinking for a few moments before he let out a good-natured grumble, “Touche.”
Builder went to go stand up, only for Shed to grab his arm, staring at him for a moment.
“Why are you getting up?” he questioned, “You preened my wings, it’s only right I return the favor.”
“Unlike you,” Builder laughed, “I’m careful in keepin’ my head-wings clean.”
“Let me return the favor,” Shed insisted, a half-hearted growl to his voice that was clearly more of a play than an actual growl. Builder paused at the noise before he abruptly shook with laughter.
“Yer tryin’a be scary just ‘cause I won’t let you preen my wings?!” he nearly snorted with laughter, “Are you kiddin’ me, y’ spoiled bird?”
Shed suddenly shied away, seemingly embarrassed with all the growl now gone from his voice, “...Okay, well when you put it like that…”
“I’m just pullin’ yer leg,” Builder assured, sitting back down and holding out a head-wing, “Preen away, just sayin’ you won’t find much save for maybe a stubborn pin feather or two.”
“Well it helps, doesn’t it?” Shed questioned, grabbing the wing with a gentleness that Builder always found as a funny contrast to how large the swordsman was, “if I can get even one thing you’ve been struggling with, then that’s helped!”
Builder resisted his initial instinct to nod, instead humming in agreement, “And it’s just plain nice. ‘S nice when you sit down ‘n do this fer me.”
“Of course I’d do this for you, Finch,” Shed’s voice was very matter-of-fact, but there was also notably the smallest hint of hurt, like he was upset that Builder would think he wouldn’t do this, “Who would I be if I didn’t?”
“Still a cute bird?” Builder questioned.
“Touche,” Shed laughed.
Things here were difficult. They were stressful and annoying and a bother to deal with and navigate.
But sitting there, letting his wings be picked through, Builder felt okay for once. Maybe things would be okay.