[under construction]

Hey there! Are you a Berdly enjoyer? Are you perhaps curious about what his family might be like? How about a fan of the Birdshot AU? Look no further than here, for you may find Berdly Wing, his single father Atticus and his brother Reddly!

Berdly was hesitant, his talons digging into the carpet with such force, he shivered. No… this was way too farfetched, illogical even! Or was it…?

This day has been rather strange, with all of these grey people, small clown, and… himself? That’s right..! He’d already encountered a counterpart from an alternate timeline. His grip began to ease, but his shoulders were still stiff. His head lowered, bringing his left wing up to his chin, eyes narrowing at the crumb-laden desk. He tapped his chin as he spoke up.

*Does… your version of me… 

His expression eased, raising his wing to stifle laughter as he cocked a brow.

*…main Pichu?

Berdly snickered at the thought.

Atticus could not help the snicker that slipped out of him at the mere suggestion that his son would ever main Pichu of all things. Berdly had made his feelings on the “accursed rodent” known very solidly in the past. He brought his wing up to cover his beak, stifling any further laughter before lowering it to the countertop.

“Oh, good Heaven, no. I wouldn’t dare make that insinuation around him. He’s a loyal Pheas main, through and through.”

Though with that matter out of the way... Atticus quietly regarded the bluebird for a moment, his expression softening and his smile beginning to fade into a gentle frown of concern.

After the shock of discerning there was some sort of temporal crossover, he wouldn’t be surprised if such a realization may affect his alternate son’s health. Not to mention his pre-existing state, those bandages on his wing, and oh, goodness, those bags under his eyes... has he been getting enough sleep?

You know, they might be late but better late than never.

They have a few gifts for Berdly.

Seems like a small collection of older games for him to enjoy, a box of peak freens, and a lovely summer color themed soft blanket.

And Spamton. He will get a nice lacy handkerchief with embroidered pink and yellow flowers in a corner, a small four leafed clover in the middle of the bunch.

*Sorry for the late gifts dear~ I hope they're alright for you, ahaha..And..that one is for Spamton.

Berdly felt an odd rush of warmth as he saw the gifts picked out for him. Not just odd because of how long he'd spent being constantly cold, but because-- he'd been remembered. Someone outside his family besides Noelle remembered and cared enough to get him something for the holidays.

He teared up a little bit and smiled brightly up at them.

"Thank you, Cerise. These gifts are deeply appreciated, and I will graciously accept them! Truly, it... it means a lot. Thank you."

During this time, his shoulder grew stiff. Even with the cookie crumbs still littering the desk, Berdly had to rest his wing. The change in subject was rather sudden, but welcome. The tension and guilt that prickled at the back of his neck seemed to have melted away almost instantly. However, as much as he would love to begin infodumping about his favorite characters, his smile faltered.

*Why do you ask?

Atticus took in a deep breath, already well aware that what he was about to suggest was rather farfetched, yet, it was the only logical explanation given his son’s sudden apparent amnesia and injury.

@undertheirwings Blue to blue

*Oh hey that is some pretty good news, glad you got most of it sorted out, I’m sure Ceri would be delighted to hear about this later!

The blue addison says, popping open a note window to scribble a note in chicken scratch with his finger for his friend to read, closing it.

*You can call me Roy, simplified with Royal haha, the squad group I’m in primarily go by the names of their colors, pretty different from the rest of the other addisons huh?

He grins, pulling a chair off the table for the other to sit, taking another down for himself.

*Have a seat, I’ll fix you up some hot chocolate. Say, couldn’t help but notice that you dress similarly to Spamton, any reason for that Berdly?

Roy asks, pointing to his own eyes like he’s gesturing to those glasses, as he heads behind the counter to fix up two cups of hot cocoa.

“A pleasure to meet you, Roy, and I’m thankful you’re passing the message along!” Berdly declares with a bright smile, some of his feathers fluffing up happily. “Why, that is quite the interesting fact!”

As he slides into the chair and settles right down, he blinks for a moment as his attire is pointed out. Ah, right. He’d almost forgotten Roy was new and had not yet become familiar with the whole circumstance. He clears his throat and adjusts the glasses, locking his gaze on the blue addison.

SO [Blues Clues] REMEMBERS HOW I DRESS, EH? HE’S ABOUT TO GET THE [Shock And Horror] OF HIS LIFE, ISN’T HE, BLUEBIRD?

*Oh, uh....Berdly? That's your name right? Cerise told me a snippet about you, sorry they're not around at the moment

*Caught up in some...shenanigans with their partner. Is there anything I can do for you, or are you just here for a casual chat hm?

Now this was a surprise. He hadn't exactly expected the blue Addison to be here in Cerise's stead. His initial plans of a status update were shot, but he figured he could make the most of it.

"Oh! It was my intention to deliver some wonderful news on my part! I was successfully able to stave off the chill that had been ailing me the last time we'd properly spoken. But seeing as they are not here... Well, I'm certainly not opposed to the prospect of conversation!"

The bluebird adjusted the pink-and-yellow shades, the green scarf still comfortably nestled around his neck. The shades combined with the black suit and white sweater and pants may seem oddly familiar... even with Berdly's bracers and sea green waist sash adding something new to it.

When truth comes to light...

"I lost them. I lost them. There was an accident, a driver under the influence, and we were both hit. We'd been walking home. If I'd just looked over my shoulder, maybe they wouldn't have... maybe they'd still be..."

Atticus buries his face in his hands, trembling.

"They wouldn't respond. I was calling, screaming their name, and they wouldn't respond. I saw the light leave their eyes. I couldn't... I couldn't save them. They were gone. I lost them."

"It was an accident, they said. Gross vehicular manslaughter was the charge they gave. I called it murder."

"Berdly doesn't remember. He was too little to remember. But I do. I remember the days when father was but a living ghost in our home, only emerging to cook meals before isolating himself in his study, surrounded by bottles and papers."

"I remember when father's feathers were disheveled and there was a distant look in his eyes, and he was losing weight, practically starving himself from grief. He barely intook anything more than coffee."

"I remember having to skip lunch to run home and take care of Berdly, make sure he had everything he needed. I remember getting into fights with the school bullies, needing to deliver 'justice' in order to expel the anger and the grief I felt. I remember bringing home a teacher's note after one particular scuffle, and father breaking down into a panic attack when he saw the blood and the bruises. I only just managed to convince him I was alright. That it wasn't like... it wasn't like..."

"I remember father burning his hand one night while cooking dinner, and simply wrapping it in a rag and saying he'd take care of it later. I remember finding him hunched over the toilet, dry heaving, as I brought him a glass of water. And I remember his apology the day after he stood as a witness in court."

"There was a game on the computer when I was a mere fledgling by the title of Rollercoaster Mogul. My brother Reddly introduced it to me, and we enjoyed many hours of building theme parks and drowning handymen and irate guests!"

"All those innocent park-goers lost to the waters, and I never batted an eye! And yet! And yet... one occasion I was playing the game on my own, with my own save file... my own park! And I made the ill-fated decision to construct a drop tower. Except... I built it far too short."

"The guests were launched upwards, into the air above the tower, and then... were met with a fatal crash, killing every pixelated passenger aboard in a fiery explosion! Needless to say, I was mortified!"

"...It wasn't always just me taking care of them. In the beginning, I... had my partner." He takes a shaky breath. It's clear that it's difficult for him to discuss, even after all these years.

"They were kind, and good-humored, and they knew what to say far better than I did. I could hold my arguments in court, but they were far better on the social front. I wouldn't have had the courage to apply for permanent custody of Reddly if not for them."

"And indeed, when that little bluebird got dropped on our doorstep... I already knew we were keeping him. Even if my conscience could let him go, Plume certainly wouldn't. They adored them both, both our boys..."

"...but then... there was the accident."

Atticus falls silent, and covers his face with a wing, turning away.

Atticus’ gaze lingered on the little bluebird, brows creased in continuing confusion. Trying to figure out just why his son didn’t seem to recognize him. Why he’d suddenly sustained an injury to his arm. Where his white streaks had gone...

He didn’t want to admit that this was not his son. No. Don’t even think that.