lark fox

“Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe they’re just doin’ some exploring? That’s what I’d do, if I were a bird. I mean, I have been a bird, but just in dreams - never in real life, y’know?” He wondered how different it would be to be a bird in reality versus whatever approximation he’d cooked up in his dreams. “Can ya take a picture without the flash? It should be fine, long as ya do it that way. Turnin’ the flash on’d probably freak ‘em out.” He wasn’t sure about flashes in particular, but birds did seem to startle easily from what he’d seen.

Mike had an interesting way of thinking about the world. “I... don’t actually know, but I’m glad you got something out of your dreams.” Lark pressed her lips together. After considering the circumstances for a moment, she sighed, resigned that photography never really was meant to work out for her. She didn’t take very many photographs anyway- it didn’t help that both Lark and Steffi didn’t show up in photographs. What was the point of a selfie if it was just to show some empty clothes and the make-up that you applied using guesswork? “It’s dark, so I don’t think this picture is going to work out without the flash. It’s okay, we’ll always have our memories. Mine will have a touch of fear in them because that is a really big bird.”

Dominic rolled his eyes, of course Ethan, Ethan who somehow knew too much and thought himself the best. The arrogance he had at the last meeting, or his little Q&A had made Dom dislike him even more. And Dom liked everyone! He still was going to try though, it’s why he offered to Ethan to have a drink at his bar. A safe space and a public one in case Ethan decided to get all haughty. “Is his hair even that good?” Dom chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t think so. But – What did he know, he wasn’t big into fashion – that had been Beth’s job, making him not look like such a mess…. He shoved thoughts of her aside and smiled a bit. “Maybe it’s actually a vulture? There’s something dead around here and it’s about to eat? I wonder if they come out at night? Or maybe an owl… those are only really out at night.” He glanced back up at it and indeed it did seem to be flying somewhat towards them “uhhh….” his voice trailed off as he tried to make sense of this whole situation.

Slowly nodding her head Aurora drummed her fingers on her lip as she listened to Lark explain human’s view of the supernatural. It didn’t really surprise her that humans generally didn’t believe in them, hell most of them seemed to barely believe in anything these days much less the supernatural. “Ah — I was going to say talking to those of us who have been alive that long could easily give you an idea, but that makes sense. I feel like if you are wanting quotes or sources from that time period the best choices would be looking in the older libraries, or talking to someone like Elaine who most likely can get access to one of the fae libraries which would have more documents that fall into that side of things.”

“Unless someone has verifiably old journals that they would be willing to share, I am not sure that is such a good idea. I’d hate to share my own journals with anyone,” Lark said with a shudder. She hadn’t kept up her journaling consistently, but she had some old writings of interest. Unfortunately, they were not old enough for what she was looking for or of the right perspective. It was difficult to find these sources and know that they were good. Such was the joy of having a passion. “I don’t have a lot of experience with fae libraries, so I am apprehensive about that. It’s difficult to get access to any libraries, really, outside of online services. I’ll find something. So... switch research. Don’t want to talk about that, then?”

Steffi hummed noncommittally at that - she probably wouldn’t deny that she was friends with Lark these days anyway, but there were certainly past decades when that would have been her default reaction were it not for the fact that the two did indeed live together. She sighed heavily at Lark’s insistence on getting even more information, regretting her decision immediately. “…the french fries were quite good, despite their name,” she admitted. She wasn’t sure why french fries had that name, having paid little to no attention to human food for several centuries now. She could only hope that it had been some kind of misnomer. “The potato salad wasn’t bad either, nor the milkshakes. Though those wasn’t as good as the apple strudel. Is that enough information for you?” On the one hand she wasn’t a fan of the fact that Lark had somehow been able to pinpoint the ingredient of the food at the diner that had turned out to be her favorite. On the other though, it was a little flattering that Lark paid enough attention to be able to determine something like that, considering the woman utterly lacked any sort of mind-reading abilities. 

“Luckily for you, I am almost certain that what they call French fries are only fake French. Ha, this is probably enough information. I don’t think I’ve recently seen you so candid about something that isn’t detrimental to someone else. It’s okay, Steffi. I won’t tell anyone about your comfort foods. I had more than my fair share as well. Do you know what’s amazing? Bread.” If vampires got to have bread instead of blood, Lark would have been a very happy camper. She was slightly teasing Steffi here, but she had her own complicated feelings about the two weeks of food-eating. It wouldn’t do to be completely mean. Even those mixed up emotions couldn’t make her broad smile slip too much.

Mike was minding his own business when suddenly, Lark caught his attention talking about Ethan Schulyer and tearing down the system and some other stuff that didn’t quite make sense to him. This was actually a fairly common occurrence, when it came to Lark - she had a lot to say about a lot of things, and Mike wasn’t ashamed to admit he didn’t fully understand even half of them. Still, that wasn’t going to stop him from listening to what she had to say, so he went on ahead and made his way over. “Huh?” He turned and looked in the same direction as Lark and let out a low whistle. “Shoot, yeah, that’s a pretty big fella. Or lady,” He agreed, nodding. “Wonder what it’s doin’ in town.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s hungry. If I was a bird, I’d like this area pretty well, but maybe not the part with people. We’re very noisy,” Lark said squinting up at the bird. Her vampire vision was a little better than a normal human’s, but it wasn’t that much finer considering how blood-deficient she was. “I kind of want a picture of it, but I think the flash would scare it off. Or scare us off. It gets bright.” She fumbled with her phone to get the camera out, humming to herself thoughtfully. She would probably go with whatever Mike thought was a good idea, but Lark wasn’t really sure at this point.

Deacon was not surprised that the first thing she thought of when she thought of cops were negative. Not because he assumed she had gotten in trouble but rather that cops seemed to be the least favorite civil service workers. Probably because sometimes they didn’t do much for their people. “I actually wanted to be a police officer so I could help people. I’m not much for the medical field type, hospitals always brought up poor memories.” His reasonings for wanting to be a police officer had everything to do with helping those who couldn’t help themselves. Now it was all twisted. “Not all police officers want to abuse their power. I’d actually prefer if less power were in the hands of the police. My fellow officers tend to let it go to their heads. Trust me, I worked for NYPD once upon a time. This conversation is a little judgmental, wouldn’t you say? You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I know,” they said as a reply, smirking.  Before these last couple of weeks, Isobel would have had a hard time believing this statement of Lark’s.  It felt like Lark was all over the place; everyone knew her, she’d always had a cause she was chasing.  There was a saying about living in another person’s shoes that crossed their mind, but now that Isobel lived as Lark for a couple weeks, they realized Lark was much more of a homebody than she let on.  It came with the territory: not allowed to go outside during the day, and not very many activities at night.  Isobel had kept their stir-crazy feelings at bay during the weeks, but like a lot of things from their experience, it was fresh in Isobel’s mind.  "Oh.“  It hadn’t completely occurred to Isobel that Lark would be unwilling to talk to them about their body-switching. But no, that wasn’t what she was saying.  Isobel shifted uncomfortably.  "I guess, I just had a question to ask you.  About feeding?  That would be the…part of the experience that was particularly frustrating for me,” they mirrored Lark’s words.  "Like, I don’t know.“  Isobel lowered their voice, spilling over their words before they could take it back.  "Do you ever…enjoy it?  Even though you hate it?”

Dominic was heading by the hospital to check on a friend when he started to hear a woman wearing rather oversized-looking coat talking — well more like rambling. Either way, he was curious. “Ethan? That trash of a sup?” he grumbled. “Hate that guy.” It was so rare that Dominic didn’t like someone, he liked everyone yet Ethan? Nope. Ethan he hated. “The man is fuckin chaos. I don’t get how he’s stayed in power so long. It just makes the whole system seem bunk — rigged, whatever. None of it seems right.” He said shaking his head but when Lark pointed out the bird his eyes followed her own and eyebrows shot up. “That is a real big bird — I think its an eagle. But honestly, not sure, birds aren’t my area of expertise.”

Steffi sighed heavily, deciding that it really would be more trouble than it was worth to try and hide the truth of the situation from Lark. The woman had already caught her red handed (more or less), and knew her well enough by now that Steffi wasn’t sure a lie would be convincing. This was exactly the problem with having friends, as far as she was concerned - especially annoyingly curious friends like Lark. “I was just… passing by for the smell. As it turns out, even pedestrian eateries such as this one aren’t entirely awful, when one needs food. Even salt free versions of what’s on offer,” she admitted. She almost wished she’d been in a body where she hadn’t had a reason to avoid salt so that she could have enjoyed the food even more, but there was certainly no need to tell Lark that - no, she’d already told her rather enough as it was. For the most part she’d stuck to only the classiest of foods while she’d been in Elaine’s body, but now Lark knew the dirty little secret that that wasn’t all she’d partaken in. “Tell anyone though, and I’ll deny it” she added haughtily, more to have something to say in response to that annoying entertained expression on Lark’s face than out of actual concern that the woman would spread this information around. 

Nothing better had happened to Lark in the last three years, so she would not get over this situation any time soon. Getting Steffi to admit that something that was ‘below her’ was not terrible was worth celebrating. As long as she didn’t spread this around to anyone else, Lark was reasonably sure that she could happily keep poking fun at this for years to come. Salt free versions. Steffi had really drawn the short stick when it came to species to swap with. “You deny plenty of things that are true, Steffi. If we didn’t live together, I’m half-convinced you’d deny that we’re friends.” Life had been pretty frustrating lately, and there was nothing better than having Steffi mildly embarrassed. It wouldn’t be nearly this entertaining if it was anything but a tragic inconvenience. “Fine, fine. I won’t tell anyone but you have to tell me all about your favorites. What did you like best? I feel like you were very into potato-based cuisine. You have to tell me everything because I can’t tell anyone else.”

He’d heard the line about capitalism before, but never really thought about how it pertained to his situation.  He could tell, though, that Lark had given this some thought before this conversation.  Atticus shrugged.  He wondered vaguely if vampires as a species were very ethical.  But he neither judged, nor cared.  It’s not like humans were ethical, though.  "I can imagine,“ Atticus said instead.  "You do what you have to.  Being cooped up is no fun.”  He raised an eyebrow.  "Enough that it would take multiple trips, and multiple library cards?  Are you researching, or just reading for fun?“  Atticus was more about the latter choice.  He nodded as she answered his question.  He knew Lark was reluctant to drink blood, and so he appreciated her answering his question.  "No,” he agreed on the last part.  Atticus couldn’t even imagine it.  "If you drank until you were full,“ he asked cautiously, "would you be able to go out in the sun?”

“Do many humans believe in us anymore? I feel like its never a topic I’ve ever had to bring up in my line of work but now I’m rather curious on their views of us.” She tapped her lips frowning, “The idea that there weren’t communities seems so out there.” but she shrugged, what did she know? She was still pretty young in Fae terms. “What are you seeking?” she asked cocking her head to one side as she followed Lark’s fingers on the book spines. “I could use a break from the whole – switch research.”

“If what I’ve read is an accurate pulse on sentiment, then, no not at large. However, there’s still some that do believe...or at least allow for reasonable doubt. I wouldn’t call them more accomplished for these beliefs because of the rampant misinformation and fear,” Lark said, recalling everything she had looked into up until this point. She had read more than enough weird Reddit rants to make her fear for humanity. “I’m looking for primary sources or secondary ones with good quotes published shortly after the events from at least two hundred years prior. I want a look into the past of how people perceived interspecies relations without asking someone alive at present. Even if those people were alive at the time, their experiences would certainly color what they say now.”

“Too many run-ins in the past?” Deacon mused as he regarded the vampire woman next to him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know Lark. It was hard not to know the other vampires in a community as small as this, especially one that was the closest to him that they got. Well, as close as one vampire with impeccable self control and one that turned into a blood hungry maniac when overfed could. It wasn’t that Deacon disliked Lark, in fact he found her rather amusing. There were just times where the two didn’t see eye to eye. His profession seemed to be one of those things. “What else was I supposed to do? I was a police officer before being turned. At least here I can explain why I need to be on the night shift and still a detective. Most can understand my ongoing conflict with sunlight. I’m sure you can understand that as well.”

“I suppose flattery doesn’t hurt either,” Steffi conceded. She was perfectly capable of reminding herself that she was flawless, but having other people remind her of it was always nice as well. “It certainly isn’t just a vampire thing,” she assured Lark, though she truly had no idea. It wasn’t as though she’d had ample access to reflective surfaces in human life - she’d been far from wealthy back then, and mirrors and the like hadn’t really become common for common folk until long after they’d ceased being of any use to her. 

“I was strongly considering letting you make the assumptions for yourself, so I suppose I can keep at it for now.” Lark smirked slightly, always finding it a little fascinating to navigate Steffi’s vanity. Of course she had no good way of really knowing about how anyone else’s physical characteristics had changed. The vampire that she had begged Steffi to turn had been objectively attractive before the change, and that was most of what she had to go on. “Of course, of course. Anyway, are you certain I can’t persuade you to watch a documentary with me? We can find one that overlaps with both of our interests. Perhaps watching people make increasingly bad decisions and then document them on camera?”

A small nod of her head was the only response given to the idea of fear and anxiety. It was a subject that was wholey to familiar to her and one she did her best to avoid if possible. But she gave a small smile a moment later, this woman seemed to have a decent head on her shoulders, a logical one if nothing else. “What have you found out about the past that we could apply or learn from?” she asked head falling to one side as she looked at Lark. “On interspecies relationships?” she hummed, “Well, werewolves and vampires have an interesting history in the sense that humans have basically demonized them, where as Fae have such a complicated history it could fill volumes.” she paused, “The only thing I can say is humans can only be trusted as far as you can trust that individual – minus five. Since they seem to be more fickle about spreading rumors.” she sighed, “From a Fae perspective, the different species of Fae are generally going to be more loyal to one another than to other, outside of fae species.”

“It’s helpful to see what’s changed. Most species are relegated to superstition at present, but may have been perceived as reality in the past. More humans assumed that witches and fae were real, for example. And that there wasn’t a supernatural community in the past made the histories more disparate.” A younger Lark might have gone off and countered that Aurora’s assumptions came from a place of personal experience and bias rather than truth and history, but she had gained a little more tact over the years. She still loved a good debate (or argument), but her technique occasionally showed signs of some refinement. She ran a thumb over the spine of a nearby book, wondering whether she should peruse it. “That’s an interesting perspective. However, I’m seeking something more specific than a general overview. And that’s difficult.”

Isobel smiled politely, a little hesitant.  They weren’t sure, even if Isobel managed to spit out what they wanted to say, if Lark would understand.  It was a small risk though; Lark was a good friend, and an even better one now that they’d both gone through…that experience.  “I’m doing okay,” they didn’t quite meet Lark’s eyes.  “Sure!  I mean, unless you had something going on?  Sorry to pop in out of the blue,” Isobel shoved their hands into their pockets.  “But I was hoping maybe we could talk about… what happened.  I’m not so great with the feelings thing, but I think it would be better so that it’s not awkward between us?”  Isobel had a little more to talk about than just that, but they figured they could lead into it.  The perfect plan.