esp_dragonv2: Werewolf head (Default)
[personal profile] esp_dragonv2
Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: M-21's wings had grounded him. They were useless, just like he was. But Frankenstein and Muzaka seem to think differently.
Notes: Harpy AU.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word count: 4,341
Total word count: 9,563
Status: Complete



M-21 was part of Muzaka's flock? They'd barely known each other a month - and Muzaka had been doing the 'social bonding' earlier than that.

Almost as soon as M-21 had been allowed in the house.

Was Frankenstein part of Muzaka's flock too? There was no-one else here. But Frankenstein was human.

Did that matter? This entire place didn't make sense.

M-21 curled up tighter in bed, hearing the rain pounding at his window.

What was he supposed to do with that? What did a flock do? Just preen each other and sing songs? Was that fucking it?

Was he supposed to preen Muzaka back then? Muzaka hadn't demanded he had to or hinted at it either.

But this wasn't the Union.

And the only people who knew the rules where were Muzaka and Frankenstein. The last time he asked them something, that was how he ended up getting more of their attention and their scrutiny.

M-21 exhaled, resting his head on his arms, his wings curling around him completely.

He had to ask them. There was no-one else here and he had to know the rules and what Muzaka and Frankenstein wanted or else they would throw him out. He didn't-

M-21 hadn't been here long, but as confusing as this place was, he still wanted to stay here compared to getting found by the Union. He knew what would happen there.

* * *

M-21 picked at dinner, hearing Muzaka and Frankenstein chatter between themselves. It was usually nonsense he ignored until they directed a question in his direction.

"And how was your day, M-21?" Frankenstein asked.

M-21 opened his mouth, his usual answer of 'Fine' on the tip of his tongue. He normally gave scientists the least amount of information as possible so they couldn't use it against him and it would be easier to remember if asked about it again later.

But he wasn't in the Union.

Muzaka and Frankenstein weren't Union scientists, even if Frankenstein was a scientist.

They hadn't used anything he'd said against him, and had tried to...help? him with something he couldn't do instead.

He'd had all this time to think before dinner and he was still taking too long to answer.

But he didn't want to ask too many questions and show he didn't know anything. He didn't even know how to phrase it because they all made him sound stupid!

They'd never made him feel like an idiot. Not intentionally anyway. He felt too slow trying to keep up with the different rules they had compared to the Union, but they'd never put him down for it. Were willing to answer all his questions.

Fuck it.

"Why would you want me in your flock?" M-21 said, just trying to get the words out before he froze again and wasted more time. Why would Muzaka take on a weak broken harpy when there were far better harpies that could join instead and make a strong flock? Pretty much every other harpy M-21 could think of would do, because anyone weaker than him was already dead.

Muzaka and Frankenstein shared a look.

They always did that when they were trying to figure out what M-21 had said. It was a simple-

Fuck.

Muzaka had said songs were flock behaviour, but he'd never said M-21 was part of his flock.

M-21 had just assumed shit - of course he wasn't part of-

"It's 'cause you're here," Muzaka said, collecting more food from the spread.

What? That didn't - of course it didn't make sense. It was Muzaka saying it.

But...was Muzaka saying M-21 was part of his flock? Just because M-21 was around? Muzaka added to his flock that easily?

Frankenstein cleared his throat, drawing M-21's attention back to him. "If we didn't think you would fit in here, we wouldn't have invited you to stay with us."

They thought he could join their flock when they first met? How could they trust a stranger than much, especially after everything he and M-24 had done?

M-21 couldn't follow the way the pair thought. They didn't act like anyone else M-21 had known.

Or that was the difference between him and strong people.

Then he definitely would never be able to understand them.

"So what do I do then?" M-21asked, staring at his food again. Repayment of some kind? If he couldn't predict what they wanted or how they thought, the only thing he could do was ask.

"Same stuff you've been doin' already."

M-21 really couldn't understand these two...

* * *

He didn't have to do anything in this flock? Just be part of it? Was Muzaka supposed to initiate everything? Apparently. Because he was the stronger one?

Was this a test? To see what M-21 would do?

Which was something that would happen in the Union, and this wasn't the Union.

That sometimes made it worse, because at least he knew what to expect then. Here, he had to figure out the rules again, what they wanted. He didn't even know what they'd do if he broke the rules, aside from throw him out.

There hadn't been tests here. So far. Not secret ones that they threw back in his face later.

M-21 sighed, picking at his feathers. They seemed brighter than before, not dull. Because of preening? Did it make that much of a difference? Apparently.

M-21 checked his wing again, trailing his finger alongside the bottom where his feathers had been clipped. It wasn't an obvious straight line and a lot of the bald patches seemed to be growing out again.

He was healing fast...

Faster than he usually would. Was there something about this place that made him heal faster? Or was it something Frankenstein was doing? But as far as M-21 could tell, Frankenstein was still only testing M-21's blood. As far as he could tell... He hadn't known what the Union scientists had been doing to his feathers and there were a lot of machines in Frankenstein's lab he'd never seen before.

Could he maybe eventually fly...?

* * *

M-21 stood on the landing, staring at the balcony doors.

What the fuck, he got outside last time - why was he hesitating even further away from the roof? Every time he tried to fly, he was worse off.

He tensed at a tap near the top of his wings, only now seeing silver in his periphery.

And he was so fucking distracted he hadn't noticed Muzaka coming up behind him.

"What're you thinkin' about?" Muzaka asked, peering at the balcony.

Lie. Lie M-21's first instinct was always to lie and get away as fast as possible.

But this wasn't the Union and Muzaka wasn't a Union scientist.

Even if M-21 was starting to accept that, that didn't change the fact he kept freezing and looking like an idiot in front of them.

"Were you going to try flying again?"

Why couldn't he speak right now? M-21 only nodded. Was he though? He couldn't get onto the balcony - how was he meant to fly when he couldn't even do that?

"Let's go!" Muzaka clapped him on the back, almost hard enough to make him stumble. That seemed enough for Muzaka, guiding him towards the balcony, hand firmly at M-21's back.

M-21 took one step after another, suddenly able to walk again. Why was it so much easier when Muzaka told him what to do? Was it easier to follow orders than to make himself do something?

They reached the balcony and Muzaka's hand was still there, so M-21 jumped up to the roof, not looking down.

There. Made it. By being forced to, not that he did it himself.

He heard Muzaka land behind him, Muzaka's wings sending rocks and dust skittering across the roof.

He was here.

Shit.

M-21's heart picked up, seeing the clear sky above him. Nothing behind him except Muzaka. Who wouldn't let him leave.

He had to do this.

Squaring his shoulders, making his wings arch higher, M-21 turned to Muzaka. "So you'll throw me off the roof?" he said, eyeing Muzaka's hands. Muzaka wasn't the Union, but they had to teach flying the same way.

He still saw Muzaka blink, making M-21 look at his face. "Why?"

M-21 stared back. "So I learn how to fly." How else was he meant to learn?

Muzaka didn't say anything for two long seconds. What had he said wrong now?

"Is that how they taught you in the Union?"

"Yeah? It didn't work though." His wings hadn't been able to hold him up - it had felt like trying to fly with his arms and just as useful. Always too weak to do it.

"When they'd clipped your wings before that?"

...Oh. Right.

He'd forgotten about that already. M-21 drew his wings forward, looking at his feathers again.

They'd clipped his wings and then made him fly when they knew he couldn't. Bastards. They'd wanted to see him struggle and fail.

"Dropping from a height is a way to get chicks started with flying, but your situation is different."

"Because of my feathers?" Or something else?

"A bit." Muzaka grimaced, scratching his own head feathers. "Frankenstein can explain it better, but I don't want you to try flying in a way you don't like, yeah?"

What did that mean? "How else am I going to learn?" M-21 said with a snort. "I just have to do it." He would get used to it eventually.

Muzaka shook his head. "No, you don't."

There wasn't another way to start flying. What the fuck else was he meant to do?

Muzaka walked over to the mass of perches in the middle of the roof. "You don't hafta confront it head on or straight away, even as a harpy," Muzaka said, tossing M-21 a sharp grin, before hopping up onto one of the lower perches, transforming his feet so he could grab on with his claws, a hand on one of the more vertical perches.

M-21 snorted. "That takes too fucking long." The scientists wanted them to pick things up as quickly as possible.

He watched Muzaka hop from perch to perch, wings angling in different directions and feeling his own wings responding at the sight.

They hadn't had this kind of perch tree in the Union.

Because he wasn't in the Union anymore.

He had to keep reminding himself of that.

But there had to be an overlap between the two at some point.

"Then take all the time you need," Muzaka said, leaning back and dropping onto the branch under him.

That didn't make any sense. Why should he waste Muzaka's time like that?

And he was wasting more time by arguing with him.

Shit.

M-21 sighed, taking a step towards the perch tree. "So what do I do?" Would he even be able to do it when Muzaka was so strong?

"Go up and down the perches-" Muzaka moved up and down at the same time as he said them. "-an' see how it feels."

M-21 waited for more information.

Muzaka continued smiling down at him.

Wait. "That's it?" That wasn't flying. He eyed the distance between perches. "I can jump those." Easily.

Muzaka's grin widened. "Exactly! That means there's no worries about falling or failing that way."

He wasn't wor - was it worrying? More like... M-21 wasn't sure what the fuck he was feeling, especially right now.

"Your wings'll get used to the movement and you don't need to fly to do it."

Then what was the point in doing it if he wasn't flying? But it was what Muzaka wanted him to do.

M-21 transformed his feet to claws and hopped up onto the lowest branch.

His wings hadn't moved, pinned to his back.

He stilled, waiting for Muzaka to snap at him for not doing it properly.

"That's great!" Muzaka was hopping from perch to perch, like he wasn't assessing what M-21 was doing.

All M-21 had done was something so basic an unmodified human could do it.

Muzaka was still jumping around, making it more obvious M-21 wasn't, so he jumped to the next perch, landing solidly, his claws wrapping around the perch.

Jumped.

If anything, it felt like his wings were even stiffer, absolutely refusing to be tricked into even opening.

"Can you get up higher?" Muzaka said, peering down at him. Still grinning easily, feathers down and relaxed.

Why did Muzaka want him to go slow?

But M-21's wings still wouldn't move, and he gritted his teeth, jumping to the next one.

Why the fuck was he doing this? He wasn't learning anything. All he was doing was wasting both their time. His feathers puffed up in frustration.

How long was he supposed to do this for? Until Muzaka got bored? Until he was supposed to be tired out from hopping from branch to branch?

Muzaka landed on a perch across from him, grinning as his wings settled into place. Chirping the same song as before.

M-21 was chirping it back before he realised, Muzaka jumping away but watching him.

Follow Muzaka? Do what Muzaka was doing?

That was what that meant, didn't it?

Didn't it?

It was hard to tell, but that seemed to follow along with what M-21 had learned here so far.

M-21 hopped over to the perch Muzaka had been on, looking where Muzaka had gone to next.

Muzaka was still crouched on the same perch and watching him. Muzaka chirped again, jumping to another perch.

Follow him.

M-21 could do that.

It was still so easy that M-21 didn't need to use his wings. Up and down and across.

Too easy.

But Muzaka wasn't waiting as long for M-21, moving as soon as M-21 looked at him. Then after M-21 landed.

They'd gone through the entire tree several times over and Muzaka was still getting faster, M-21 only following the sound of Muzaka landing because Muzaka was already out of sight by the time M-21 tried to find him.

Muzaka was so fast and M-21 panted, wings flaring out as he landed so he wouldn't overshoot the perch, using his hand to brace himself too. Sweat beaded his brow but there was no time to wipe it away. M-21 shook his head instead as he tried to find where Muzaka was now.

He had to be missing a couple of perches Muzaka had landed on, but even doing that M-21 was barely keeping up.

They'd started running over the perches now instead of just landing on them and M-21 had to angle himself and his wings to be that little bit faster, so his wings didn't drag behind him.

Every muscle in M-21's body burned and it felt like he couldn't get enough air in his body, but Muzaka kept the same or more distance between them.

Still fucking chirping.

M-21 had stopped trying to chirp a while ago, unable to keep up, pay attention to the song and chirp it back at the same time. He just followed the song and flash of silver in his periphery.

M-21 swore as Muzaka stopped using the perches, spinning around the outside of one of the trunks, claws scraping wood to keep his turn tight and so he would land on another perch.

He followed as best as he could, almost hitting the same place Muzaka had, feeling the deep groves under his fingertips. Still moving too fast. He was going to overshoot where he needed to go and go spinning out of control.

M-21's wings flared out, slowing him down and tilting to make a sharper turn.

Lifting him up.

He stumbled a few steps when he reached the perch and fell on it, slapping a hand on the perch to brace himself as his knees knocked against it.

S-shit.

He was still trying to drag air back into his lungs, sweat dripping from his face onto the wood and his hand. He could have said he was recovering from all the running Muzaka had put him through, but that was a fucking lie, even as every single muscle trembled trying to keep him upright.

He'd flown.

Not properly, but he'd felt the weightless shift, his wings controlling where he went and not his legs.

He'd flown.

A thump across from M-21 made him look up again, seeing Muzaka's grinning face. "Great work!" And then chirped again, disappearing from view.

There was more?

Of course there was. Muzaka wasn't done.

So that was Muzaka's plan: distract him enough until his body moved automatically.

Instinctively.

Another chirp above him.

"I'm fucking coming," M-21 grumbled, pushing himself up again. That was all the break he was going to get - M-21 doubted he would get another one.

Muzaka didn't set the same fast pace as before, but now that M-21 knew what was going on, he was sure it would speed up soon enough. Muzaka would get faster until M-21 had to use his wings to have a hope of keeping up.

M-21 was already fucking exhausted from the previous run and he groaned when Muzaka span around a horizontal perch, claws scraping wood before dropping to a lower perch.

Dive over the perch, snap hands out onto it, feel himself swing up and back around it, wings shifting so he wouldn't lose too much speed and didn't careen out of control off the perch and then let go.

Too fast, the next perch too close. He was still going full speed and was going to crash into the perch.

M-21's wings flared out and he felt them catch air, slowing him down.

It was still unbalanced, something was off, but it wasn't the dead weight fall he'd had when he tried to fly in the Union.

He landed, wings staying out this time, because he knew he was going to need them for whatever shit Muzaka was going to do next.

"You're doing great, kid!"

More of that fucking chirping followed, and M-21 was sure he could hear Muzaka's voice after that, but he couldn't concentrate on it, focused on putting what was left of his energy into the next jump, the next step, the next turn. He couldn't even try to predict what the fuck Muzaka would do because he didn't know.

He didn't know Muzaka well enough to know what Muzaka would do, didn't know how Muzaka flew except 'better than him' or how Muzaka thought. Everything about this was new.

And Muzaka still wasn't mocking him.

As far as M-21 could tell. All he could hear was his own panting and his heart trying to pump out of his fucking chest, every muscle screaming at him.

He almost crashed into a perch he was jumping up to, clinging on as he used his legs and wings to pull the rest of him up. Muzaka didn't even look like he was breathing hard or broken a sweat. Bastard.

"That's it! Ya almost got it!"

M-21 couldn't pinpoint the tone Muzaka was using either, but that was probably because his brain was so starved of air by that point to understand anything.

When the fuck would this end? Probably when M-21 fell out of the perch tree, because it didn't look like Muzaka was going to get tired any time soon.

Just keep going. Just keep...trying?

M-21's wings were the loosest he'd ever felt them, even if they felt as heavy as the rest of his body on his back. They also fucking ached because he'd never used them like this before either.

Another jump up and down, and spinning around different perches, or multiple perches, M-21 using his arms to yank himself across to reach.

There were a few near misses, but it seemed like Muzaka was also tiring, M-21 actually starting to catch up to him.

Finally.

Maybe they would finish soon.

Muzaka launched himself over a perch, M-21 half a step behind him, and he braced himself for whatever spin Muzaka would do next to get back to the perch tree. Up? There were no perches to pull up from. Down? Would be the easiest to do. Around? Still no perches to -

Muzaka wasn't doing any of that, his wings unfurling completely and -

M-21 felt the wind through his feathers, the lift as he beat his wings. Once, twice.

He was angled wrong, his wings not keeping him up in the air, and he was going to crash onto the roof.

Shit shitshit!

What the fuck was he meant to do now?

M-21 landed, taking two steps before his momentum took him almost face-first into the roof.

He was sure he would have, if Muzaka hadn't caught him under the arms and swung him around, Muzaka's laughter filling M-21's ears.

"You did amazing!"

"But I didn't-" M-21 tried to get more air in his lungs, his mind whirling faster than Muzaka was spinning him. "I didn't do it?" He hadn't flown. All he'd done was flap his wings and that hadn't kept him in the air. That didn't even count as gliding!

"You did more than you've done before, an' that's somethin' to celebrate!" Muzaka continued laughing before setting M-21 down again, M-21's legs almost buckling under him from the strain.

M-21 hadn't flown properly, but Muzaka still thought that was good...?

* * *

M-21 was still in a daze a couple of hours later, what had just happened repeating in his head, trying to make sense of it, if there was something he had missed.

He couldn't understand this place and he didn't think he ever would. His survival in the Union had been dependant on keeping the scientists happy. That had kept him alive.

Here? What made Muzaka and Frankenstein happy?

From what M-21 had seen it was...his development? It sounded the same as the Union scientists, but it felt different.

The scientists wanted immediate results to prove their theories, to compare with other scientists and be better than them; Frankenstein checked M-21's stats for his overall health and trends apparently, wanting M-21 to be stable.

Muzaka wanted M-21 to...what? Be part of his flock? Learn how to be a proper harpy? And didn't care how slow M-21 was being?

M-21 didn't know.

A chirp drew M-21's attention away from his thoughts, and he already knew what he would see when he looked across. Muzaka was there, grinning as he leaned against the living room door frame.

It wasn't the same chirp Muzaka used while he was preening, or when M-21 had been chasing him on the perch tree.

But Muzaka used it before preening M-21. Was that what it was for?

"How often are you supposed to do this?" M-21 asked, following Muzaka into the living room. Muzaka was preening him more often than Frankenstein checked M-21's bloods.

The food spread at the living room table was far bigger than when they first started doing this, with hot tea waiting for them at their seats.

"Depends on what you're preening for, but pretty regularly to make sure the feathers stay in good shape."

Which M-21 hadn't needed before... But Muzaka had still done it, even before M-21 had tried flying.

"And in a flock," M-21 added flatly. Because apparently that was what Muzaka was focused on.

Muzaka laughed, proving M-21 right. "For that regularly too, to keep up social bonds, an' to get hard to reach places."

M-21 opened his mouth, feeling Muzaka's hands running through his head feathers already. He had to ask, didn't he? No-one else would give him an answer. "What about you?" Who did Muzaka's feathers? Muzaka had to want something back, right? For everything he was doing. That was the basic currency... In the Union.

And this wasn't the Union.

Muzaka didn't say anything for a few seconds, still preening M-21's head. "Do you wanna preen me?"

He didn't know how to! M-21 had barely just learned about preening in the first place! He had no idea what Muzaka was doing and Muzaka was right there doing it!

A light chuckle, and Muzaka ruffled M-21's head, undoing all the work he'd just done before M-21 could get out an answer. "Don't worry about it then. Frankenstein preens me - you can ask him later."

Oh. That made sense.

Not that M-21 would ask Frankenstein anything if he didn't have to. Though...

"Just sit back and enjoy this."

Enjoy? This could be enjoyable?

He didn't have to plan and try to guess what Muzaka was thinking or going to do next?

He wouldn't be able to do that even if he spent every waking moment trying to understand Muzaka.

So all he could do right now was just...focus on what Muzaka was doing, feeling his muscles starting to relax the more Muzaka did.

This...was okay.

* * *

Frankenstein looked up from his desk at the sound of laughter outside his window. Hearing Muzaka laughing wasn't new, but it was the chirping afterwards that was a bit surprising. That tended to happen only-

A burst of chirping followed, a lot faster and missing a couple of notes from the first stanza.

-when Muzaka was flying with someone.

Frankenstein stood up, walking over to the window to get a better view, a soft smile already growing on his face.

Muzaka was flying in circles, M-21 chasing after him, trying to keep up with the aerial aerobatics.

Even through the closed window, Frankenstein could hear M-21 swearing at Muzaka.

Good. It meant M-21 had already developed enough strength that he could also talk while flying. It hadn't been long since M-21's feathers had grown back completely and he was able to keep up with Muzaka remarkable well.

Frankenstein hummed, then turned to close his journal and put his pen away.

He would start preparing dinner - with how the pair were flying, they would be finished by the time it was ready.
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