video/action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[This might look completely random and boring at first, a lustrous sheen shining off a white spring moth's wings against a stark ebony surface. To those that recall Yin's cut-off concert, though, they might recognize the piano, and the background of her apartment.]

[The delicate wings flap, then press together, just as the feed shuts off.]

[Please, don't try to eat her, Mao. Fight the cat instincts!]

[Action;]

[She got out when someone else opened the door, perhaps, and she's flying low, path erratic. The moth can be sighted running into people's hair, staying there for a time, then flying off later, or if found out. She might hit glass of storefronts, and get completely turned around after that.]

[Moths don't have observer spirits, but she's slowly getting a better feel of the layout around her with her hearing.]

Comments

Action

[mortemscintilla]

[ He's let himself into Yin's apartment somewhere around six o' clock, a tupperware dish of shrimp curry and noodles in his hands. Surveillance hasn't indicated that Yin has left her apartment yet, so he's bewildered when he calls her name and gets no response. ]

[ It's only then that he notices the moth. ]

[ His forefront thought is -- Who left the window open? But it takes only a heartbeat more to piece things together. ]

[ A curse. Great. ]

Action

[moonlitrequiem]

[There is a response. Her wings flap feebly, and Yin lifts from the piano to the sound of Hei's voice, only to run into his chest. Her dainty legs cling there to his shirt.]

Action

[mortemscintilla]

[ Strange. She's a moth, but there's something almost familiar in the way she latches on to his shirt. ]

[ He glances down, ignoring the surrealism, and manages a brief smile. ]

Now you weigh even less than a buck ten. [ If anything at all. ]

Action

[moonlitrequiem]

[Her wings only extend once, then lift together again. She didn't keep track of weight, but she didn't even get above 100 when she was human.]

[Now as a moth, she's comforted to at least be able to hear Hei's voice, and know he's there. She's not supposed to be comforted. But she is. His presence is a shield, a balm. A beacon in her current darkness.]

Action

[mortemscintilla]

[ He doesn't disturb the moth from her perch. A portion of his brain clamors at how fucking odd this is. But he shelves that into the background. Right now, he needs to make sure Yin isn't blown away on a gust of air. ]

[ Slowly, he moves to the kitchen space. Sets his tupperware dish on the counter, then begins looking for something in the cabinets. ]

[ Jar. Need to find a jar. ]

Action

[moonlitrequiem]

[As he moves into her kitchen, Yin explores his shirt. Little feelers manage to make it up to his shoulder, and she comfortable perches there, completely at rest.]

[She wouldn't be overly fond at being put in a jar, if she knew that's what he was searching for. Granted, if he wants to put her in one, she will accept it.]

Action

[mortemscintilla]

[ He doubts he'd enjoy being trapped in a jar either. But right now, it's the safest option. Finally, he finds a sufficiently large container. Wide and plastic, with a thin lid. While Yin crawls around -- it's an almost ticklish feeling, without the actual tickling -- he punches a row of holes into the lid. ]

[ As he works, he murmurs, ]

At least you're not a white persian cat. Mao wouldn't survive the shock.

action;

[maoser]

[A little after midnight, Mao cracks an eye open. Something feels different in the apartment.]

Yin?

[He jumps off the back of the couch and paws around the apartment, looking for the source of the disturbance.]

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[She knows that voice. Unfortunately, it does not occur to her that cats might want to play with moths. Besides, Mao's a Contractor. Not a cat.]

[She gives a slow, gentle flap from a wall. This is her eating time, nocturnal schedule taking over. Fortunately, she's Yin enough to know she doesn't want to eat the clothing in her closet.]

[That leaves with her few options, however. She flutters over to the salt shaker on the counter, crawling over the top to get what salt granules stuck to the top she can.]

action;

[maoser]

[Mao clamps down on the feline instinct to attack the moth. It doesn't take him long to realize that Yin-as-he-knows-her is not in the apartment, and after that it's not hard to deduce that the moth is very likely her.]

Hmph. An inconvenient curse.

[He contemplates jumping back onto the couch to keep sleeping, but somehow he can't take his eyes off of her.]

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Unaware, her wings lightly extended and flutter as she wonders on top of the salt shaker. Thankfully, they have fruit sitting out, also, so eventually she flies off in direction of the scent.]

action;

[maoser]

[His tail twitches. It's so tempting... so very...very tempting. Curse this feline body!]

Mraow!

[He manages to get out that warning before POUNCING at her.]

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Except she's still much like a Doll. Her personality didn't change over when she became a moth, so Yin doesn't move.]

voice;

[onsets]

[he can only assume (hope) that this is the girl's idea of a creative video. It'd be rather disturbing to think she's the moth. And just as disturbing that could ever be a possibility in the first place.]

That's - [Argh, right. His voice. He still has to get used to that...] - that's a rather beautiful image.

video;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Nope, nope. She's the moth. And she doesn't recognize that voice, either. No recognition wing flap for this one.]

[onsets]

[He waits. For a 'thank you', for a face, anything. That doesn't seem to be happening any time soon, so.]

Hello? Are you there?

[moonlitrequiem]

[A flap of wings, slow and steady on the extension. Right here.]

[onsets]

[He takes the silence as a sign of three things: Either the recorder was left alone, he's being ignored on purpose, or he's talking to a moth.]

Please don't tell me you're a moth.

[moonlitrequiem]

[Flap. A moth, yes. The City probably thinks this is nice, too.]

action;

[fields_of_hope]

[Lacus has no idea that curses can turn people into moths, but it doesn't change how she greets the winged creature that's fluttering about: she offers a finger to land on and interrupts her singing to greet it.]

Why, hello. Are you lost?

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Yin recognizes that voice. She only spoke with her once, but yes, it sounds like Lacus.]

[Her wings extend, slowly, as she settles on Lacus' finger, safe from floating further. She is lost, but is unable to explain that. She just closes her wings up, for now.]

action;

[fields_of_hope]

[Lacus' hand is steady, a good perch for any wayward moth.] What lovely wings you have. I'm glad you came to visit. Though perhaps you might prefer a lighted spot...

[She glances around for one, and sings to herself as she does so, a soothing song with a light melody.]

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Her wings flutter. They're lovely?]

[Lighted spot or not, she doesn't mind, but the warmth in a sunnier spot does feel rather nice. For now, she stays, resting with Lacus, trying to figure out where home is from this spot.]

action;

[fields_of_hope]

[Soon enough Lacus spots a patch of sunlight and walks toward it with smooth, gliding steps so as not to disturb her friend.] There, that should be nice. I recall that moths like the light. I saw a few of your friends when I lived on Earth, they liked to flutter around the porch light in the evenings.

action;

[moonlitrequiem]

[This particular moth will likely not bother with porch lights much, but be drawn to patches of the moon, instead. For now, she rests there, not even moving.]

[Lacus is a pool of calm, similar to Yin.]