Matahouroa: Dark Comfort

 Music flooded the air, as it always did in that bar.

Normally  Panahihou would at the very least enjoy the rhythm of the drums, feel  his blood quicken with every shout and give in to the ravenous cruelty  of the lyrics. Even something like a serenade or a calm erhu score would  normally be appreciated; if it didn't touch his black heart or at the  very least calm his neurotic impulses, it'd be worthy mocking. No song  was truly bad to him, and he traveled far and wide just for a good  enrichment to his revelries.

Yet, for once, music was pure cacophony.

Every  song felt like loud, obnoxious sound, oppressive and penetrating, not  bringing him happiness but annoyance and confusion, exacerbating his  already morose state. Listening to it was no longer relaxing or  vitalizing, more than a chore: it was a leeching, draining experience,  reminding him that his life was being wasted by the second.

A  guttural growl escaped his long beak, and he swallowed another drink. It  too was no longer pleasurable, but at least it numbed him somewhat.  Losing control was something that he dreaded deeply, but it was starting  to sound appealing.

Panahihou sighed, and the sigh turned into a  groan, and the groan turned into a low roar. He, like most birds, had  virtually no sense of smell, but the air tasted rotten, and not  the seasoning kind either. He placed his scaly palms on the table,  raising himself hastily, his winged arms feeling feeble and shaky.

Patrons around him picked up on his displeasure, and carefully slid away from him.

Panahihou  considered planeswalking right out of there. Though he wouldn't be  there to see it, the thought of inducing a panic filled him with a  hollow satisfaction. He already knew it wouldn't be much, but in that  state any sliver of what even remotely passed as happiness would be  enough.

Just as he was about to depart, however, he heard  footsteps moving in his direction. Before he could do anything, a hand  rested gently on his shoulder.

"Hey" said the stranger, "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Panahihou's  long neck craned, his head tilting and turning like an owl's. A few  patrons flinched or looked away, but while the newcomer did show a  moment of unease, he remained fairly cheerful.

He was a young  male human, possibly in his late teens, with a light ginger hair and  beard and bright blue eyes, not unlike the Panahihou's own. Instead of  cold and spiteful like the Kawau's, however, they were strangely warm.

The  newcomer was rather chubby, his features rounded but not to an extent  that the Aven found repulsive; combined with his sympathetic demeanour,  it made him somewhat cute. He wore a white shirt covered by a red  leather jacket, brown leather finger-less gloves, brown pants and black  boots. It gave Panahihou the impression that this man cared more about  appearence than praticality, even if none of the items were strictly  useless.

The Aven examined for a while still, partly because he  was somewhat dumbfounded, partly just to see if he could unnerve him.  Seeing no changes to the newcomer's expecting face, he quickly gave up,  shrugging indifferently.

"Thanks" the newcomer said, "Do you want another drink?"

Panahihou turned at him confusedly, before checking his mug again. It was empty.

"Sure" he said, a brief mucus build-up making his voice coarse.

"Two beer mugs, please" the newcomer said, raising his hand.

The  bartender, an old minotaur, raised her eyebrow, before filling the two  mugs and skimming them across the table to the two patrons. The new mug  ricochetted away Panahihou's old one with a small bling, soon  accompanied by a series of blings from the silver coins the newcomer  tossed at the table. Panahihou looked at the coins, their white-ish glow  appealing to his eyes, before he grabbed the mug and opened his beaked  jaws, swallowing the brown and white fluid heavily.

"So, I see that you were about to planeswalk away" the newcomer said, before his own mug touched his lips.

Brownish  whitewater came out of Panahihou's beak, splashing in two perfect jets,  as he coughed it up in surprise. This caused a frown in the bartender's  face, a groan of displeasure from a patron whose shirt was stained by  one of the jets, and a worried look on he newcomer's face.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know we weren't supposed to talk about it" he said, a tinge of sadness and bitterness in his voice.

"Oh, we can and we will!" Panahihou responded crowed angrily, the air around him becoming darker, "Have you been stalking me?"

"N-no,  I just felt you were about to planeswalk away" the newcomer said  nervously, before he stared down at the table, "I just wanted someone to  talk to."

Panahihou calmed down, darkness fading as the torch  glow returned to his black plumage, reflecting in ambaric sheens. He  looked at his wing feathers for a moment, and saw a glimmer similar in  color to the newcomer's hair and beard. His winged elbows landed back  on the table, feathers scraping in a sound that drew the fellow  planeswalker's attention back to him.

"Follow me" Panahihou said.

The  Kawau saw the young man's face express confusion, before the tavern  vanished and was replaced by his headquarters in Ravnica: a dark  apartment, minimally lit by small crevices in the window-lids. He found  himself sitting in his bed, a structure altered into a broad, nest-like  platform, though still familiar enough as to not discourage his one  night stands. The Aven laid down on his back, letting out a small moan  as he relaxed

The young man manifested soon after in front of  him. Panahihou didn't see him, his head facing the opposite wall as it  was, but he could sense some discomfort, which brought him a small  amount of satisfaction.

"Uh, nice place you got here."

"You can open the windows if you want" Panahihou responded, each word vibrating in a relaxing purr.

He  heard wood creaking, and sure enough the light of the afternoon sun  flooded the room. Panahihou winced, his eyes watering slightly. He  covered his face with his left wing-arm, though some light still made it  through the rips in the barbules. The tattered, damaged look that he  purposely cultivated turned against him, a fact that he recognized  bitterly.

"Are you okay?" the young man asked.

Panahihou  simply groaned. He heard cautious footsteps, and sure enough the bed  shook as his fellow planeswalker sat neck to him, his lap just outside  the reach of his wing feathers.

Slowly, Panahihou raised his  wing-arm, adjusting his sight. He saw those blue eyes again, only now  they were dominated by worry. The Aven knew the multiple reasons: for  him, but also for something else, for whatever caused that bitterness,  for whatever lead him to reach out to a complete stranger, a mage with  as dark a mood as powers.

Some sort of desperation.

"You  know" Panahihou started, reveling in the second those blue eyes filled  with curiosity, "I was told, many times now, that our kind were once  gods."

"What do you mean?" the young man asked.

"It means  that we were once powerful, of course. Supposedly, we could take on any  form, we could cast any and all spells, we could even create planes."

This elicited an awed gasp from his companion, which Panahihou found endearing.

"But,  above all, we could live forever. We didn't age, we wouldn't be  bothered by such petty things like time. You could had remained as you  are for all eternity. Imagine, being this adorable for the rest of  existence."

His beak rubbed against the young man's thigh, and it  wasn't long until the Aven saw that rounded face acquire a pink tone.  This was something Panahihou found quite pleasing in humanoids.

"Think  about it, not worrying about ever running out of time" Panahihou said,  his jaw tips pinching the pants, careful as to not break the skin.

"T-that would be amazing."

"Yes. Now, we have to make do with years."

Panahihou's  right wing-arm's feathers brushed on the man's arm, before his fingers  touched his belly, grasping it softly. It reached up higher, a claw  trailing through the fabric, reaching the chest.

"What's your name?" Panahihou asked, more as an afterthought than anything else.

"Feluz."

"Panahihou. I'm told it doesn't roll well on the tongue."

"I-I think its nice."

"Why, thank you. Thank you indeed."

The  Aven's hand drew away, as he used both forelimbs to propell himself  upward. Kneeling on the bed, he moved right behind Feluz, his wing-arms  enveloping the young man in a protective embrace. His neck rested on the  ginger scalp, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the friction of the hair  in his throat.

"I've wasted so much of my life. I can tell you feel the same way, too."

Feluz sighed.

"Yes. I should've been stronger, when I was younger."

"How old are you?"

"18."

"So young and already feeling so withered. Just like me."

Feluz nodded.

"How old are you?" he asked, playing idly with Panahihou's wing feathers.

"22. Only five of those years have been worth living."

"Only two of mine have been worth living."

Panahihou  chuckled, and lowered his head, his avian face nuzzling against Feluz's  meaty one. A sense of joy began creeping its way inside him, and he  decided that was good.

"Do you want to waste some time with me?"