Fowlhunter [GL]

Following the lady, Jemi walked into Mr and Mrs Tionn’s bedroom. The layout was mostly the same as Jemi remembered it. The walls were peeling more, they had new curtains, there were more things piled on the table now. Paperwork, books and thick ring folders of notes, but there were also bundles of coloured popsicle sticks and a wafer tin repurposed for holding chalk. There was a stack of papers that looked like drawings, a collection of ink scribbles and splashes of cheap paint.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess,” she steered Jemi towards the dresser in the corner. Jemi shook her head. “So, what kind of look are you going for?”

In thought, Jemi chewed her lip—before quickly retracting it from her teeth. She rubbed the corner of her mouth. “He's a rich and passionate guy. It needs to be… exciting—if you catch my drift—but not be so flashy it outshines him. I'd like to move around in it, so it shouldn't be restrictive. Hopefully something durable too. And I definitely have to do something about my hair.” She ran her hand through the raggedy frizz on her head.

“Hmm…” Mrs Tionn rifled through her closet. “Maybe this one?” She held one dress out.

“Oh, that looks lovely, but I want something that matches my scarf. Ideally.” Jemi said, tugging at her collar.

“Ah. That will be trickier,” Mrs Tionn regarded her and the crimson scarf around her neck with an inquisitive look, but when Jemi didn't elaborate, she didn't press. She pulled something out of the closet. “How about this? It was in a thrifted clothes blindbag, but I’ve never worn it. It’s too small for me and besides, it's a little, ah…”

“No, that’s perfect,” Jemi eyed it. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to try it on?”

“Yeah,” Jemi shuffled to the corner and slipped it on. She walked around the room experimentally. “Seems like it fits well.”

“Aren’t you going to look at it in the mirror?” Mrs Tionn gestured at the dresser.

“I’m good,” Jemi shook her head.

Mrs Tionn gave her a doubtful glance. But she shrugged. “Sit down anyway. I need to do your hair.” And so Jemi sat in front of the vanity. She carded through the dull golden tresses, coarse like twisted mats of rusted copper wire. “...Was your hair always this dry?”

“Hm? That? I once spent two years in a place with a lot of sun,” Jemi’s wan smile reflected in the mirror. “It hasn’t really been the same since.”

“I see,” Mrs Tionn said. She began to ease out some of the worst kinks and tangles with her fingers. Then, she spritzed some conditioning oil on a comb, working it through the rest. Knots caught regularly on the teeth of the comb, but the mother pulled them free gently, so as not to cause Jemi any hurt.

“Can you lift your head, please? It keeps drooping down.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The young woman lifted her head. Jemi’s eyes seemed to fixate on the top corner of the room.

“I know it's not any of my business, but are you really interested in this man you're going to see?” Mrs Tionn asked as she brushed her hair. “Rich and passionate, doesn’t like to be outshone? It doesn’t seem like your type at all.”

“Why does it matter?” Jemi stared vacantly at the mirrorframe.

Mrs Tionn paused. “Do you truly not return the feelings of that angel?

Jemi’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean, return?”

The lady put down the brush. “Why, have you not seen the way she looks at you?”

“That intense, gold stare? She’s like that all the time.”

“No,” Mrs Tionn demurred. “When she’s looking at us, the emotion in her eyes is only very slight. Subtle, difficult to pick up on. The moment she turns her gaze on you, it’s the complete opposite—like the force of ten suns concentrated.”

Jemi was silent.

“You don’t know her like I do,” Jemi said, finally. “I’ve known her for nine years. That angel doesn’t care for anyone.”

“Perhaps she is not the same angel of nine years ago,” Mrs Tionn said. “She cares a great deal for you. If a stranger meeting her for the first time can see it, then someone like you should, too.”

“You were right,” Jemi replied, all petulance, “before. it’s none of your business.”

“Maybe so,” Mrs Tionn hummed. She began to brush Jemi’s hair again. “But I did raise you for a year. It’s only normal for me to still want the best for you. I know… you rarely let others take care of you because you want to prove yourself. But just because you can endure it alone, doesn’t mean you have to, you know? You don’t always have to be strong. It’s okay to let yourself lean on another person, once in a while. Everyone has to.”

She slid the brush back into the dresser. Now the frizz looked more like the curls they were meant to be, tumbled smoothly around Jemi’s shoulders like coils of loose sand. But the owner of those curls still wasn’t looking at her reflection, her head drooped over again.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

“No. It’s great. Thank you.” Jemi’s sentences were short. She stood up from the dresser, turning away from the mirror. She ran her hand through her hair. She faced Mrs Tionn, as if she had more to say, but couldn’t find the words.

Mrs Tionn studied her for a long moment. “You’re leaving again after tonight?” she confirmed.

Jemi nodded.

“Let me give you something,” the brown-haired lady opened another drawer to the dresser. Jemi looked down to see a small, handheld mirror being slipped into her hands. It was a simple and elegant thing, carved from cedarwood and embossed with tiny flowers—violets and buttercups.

“This was a gift from my mother to me. I want to leave it to you.”

Jemi’s eyes went wide. She tried to push it away, “I can’t have something like this. That’s too important.”

Mrs Tionn pushed it back. “No. I want you to have it. You’re like my daughter, Jemi, my first daughter. …If I won’t see you again, then I’d like for you to look after yourself.”

Jemi stared at it. Then, Mrs Tionn pulled her into a hug.

“You’re beautiful,” Mrs Tionn’s voice said. “Whatever you choose for yourself, I hope that it’s a choice that makes you happy.”

“......” Mutely, Jemi nodded. Gently, she untangled herself from Mrs Tionn’s arms… then stowed the mirror in the bundle of her cloak that she had changed out of. Carrying her clothes, she left the room.

~~~

Ennanis was sitting in Josie’s vacated room when Jemi Garen strutted in.

The woman dumped her old clothes on a shelf. Now, she was wearing a sleek black dress. What had once been covered by long cloaksleeves was now bare from shoulder to arm, showing off lengths of wiry muscle. Just her neck was still swathed, her crimson scarf twin bolts of colour that ran down her back. The dress hugged her thin torso, where fishnetted windows of black voile revealed strategic triangles of skin. From the tight waist down, the skirt was daringly short, barely low enough to cover her rear. Matching maroon stockings ended in buckled black boots.

Ennanis’ face remained neutral, but her gaze was molten fire, glued to every inch of the woman that strode towards her.

“...You’re going to sleep in that?” the angel finally said. Ennanis, herself, had changed out of her uniform, sitting on the bed in a dark cardigan, undershirt and khakis. Her armbraces were still clasped around her forearms, those tender angelic wrists.

“What sleep?” Jemi’s laughter was like bells. She moved closer. She had done something to her eyes, darkened the corners and dusted her eyelids, making her violet eyes deeper and blacker than before. Her hair had a lustrous shine to it now, flowing in uncharacteristically smooth waves over her shoulders. Ennanis yearned to tangle her hands in it, but as the other woman leaned over her, Jemi maintained a calculated distance, just out of the angel’s reach.

“As if either of us ever get any sleep at night,” Jemi flounced forward, close for just a second, before she ebbed back. She twirled around, letting the skirt flare out—a pale flash above her stockings—and grinned like a jackal. “How are we finding the new look?”

Slit-gold eyes trailed openly down the woman’s figure.

“...Unsightly as always,” the angel answered. In response, Jemi merely broadened her smile.

“It’s a waste of the bed the madam so kindly offered us,” Ennanis continued, “but I’m glad. I was in want of a drinking partner.”

Jemi raised her brow. “You got booze?”

Ennanis stuck her hand in her gigantic paper bag. From it she withdrew several brown bottles: chocolate wine. “It’s not apple cider, but…”

In a blur of silver, Jemi darted forward, snatching one of the bottles. “Hell, I’ll take it.” She spun toward the window, rolling it all the way up with a screech. She planted a foot on the windowsill, glancing back at the angel with a cock of her head. “Let’s go outside and catch some wind. It’s way too hot in here.”

Ennanis stood up, the rest of the bottles floating around her, gold and shimmering. Her wings flexed.

“Sure,” she said. Then she followed where the woman dropped herself out.

~~~

The night outside was warm as always, but a rushing breeze lifted the sweat beading across their necks. They crossed the rooftops of Archizoun, traversing flat terraces and climbing over gables, leaving the rolled-down window of an apartment building far behind them.

“You’re flying, aren’t you? Why’re you so slow? Keep up!” Jemi hollered as she sprang over the roofs.

“The wind’s blowing in the wrong direction,” Ennanis defended as she beat her wings against the gale. She landed behind a chimney, peeking around as she squinted slitted eyes to see in the darkness. “Also, the sight of an angel swooping about at night is bound to attract attention. I’m trying to be subtle here.”

“You blew up a volcano a couple weeks ago,” Jemi said pointedly. “I think you can give up on the subtlety part, Commander. Hurry up!”

Sighing, Ennanis flapped her wings harder and followed on.