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Avery likes to notice small things other people wouldn’t. It’s a habit he’s picked up from surviving in isolation or having to make split-second decisions during Skywars matches. He’s been hanging around with D3rlord for a few months now. That’s basically best friend status! They’ve been through thick and thin with each other, and have been settled in a nice, collaboratively-built home for around a month. He’s glad D3rlord’s paranoia has finally died down enough to where they don’t have to always be on the move.
However, as they’ve grown closer, Avery’s eye has grown keener. He’s picked up on D3rlord’s habits—whether they’re more hidden or obvious, they’ve made bookmarks in his mind. One thing he’s been focused on is D3rlord’s lack of self care. Especially now that they share a home. The way he has a tendency to skip meals or offer food to Avery as if they’re still on the move, the way he only takes the proper time to manage his braids when it is no longer ignorable, and the way he always puts off time to wash or brush. He’s not sure why. Avery enjoys self care! Sure, sometimes it can be a bit of a chore, but he’s always seen it as a free way to spoil himself.
So, of course, he was quick to acknowledge D3rlord’s current dilemma. Only recently has he pinpointed the source. He knows D3rlord has his own… birdlike features, such as his small, owlish ears or the feathery growths that bundle up around his neck, chest, and forearms. Lastly, of course, his little feathered tail! Avery finds it very cute that a huge, armored hunk has a tail that puffs up when he’s startled. He would never tell D3rlord, though. Avery thinks he’s embarrassed about it. Whatever. Sidetracking aside, D3rlord appears to be shedding. A lot. Basically everywhere the man has been, a few feathers are left behind.
Avery has asked about it a few times to hesitant responses. He wonders why. It’s only natural! Like how Avery gets a little melty when it’s too wet or too warm. It’s nothing shameful! So now, his new task is to try and use this as an opportunity to get D3rlord to actually take care of himself. Avery huffs with confidence as he walks towards the front door, having just returned from a chilly winter stroll.
He approaches the quaint, cottage-like home built of aged mangrove planks. Small lanterns hang from the edges of the slanted roof and wilting bushes decorate the front windows, withering away from the cold weather. Avery pushes open the door with a hum, setting his foraged berries down on the combined living room-kitchen table. The warmth of the crackling campfire from the corner gently coils around him. He settles against the counter with a dramatic sigh, perching himself on one of the rickety stools beneath it.
He waits for D3rlord to greet him with a cautious smile, almost as if he’s double checking who’s entered the house like he usually does, but is instead only met silence. He purses his lips, now slightly concerned. Maybe he didn’t hear him! That’s fine! Avery could take some time to get all relaxed anyway. He begins to pluck the firm red berries from their broken stems, being careful of the thorns. He organizes the sweet berries into piles of “spoiled” and “edible,” humming to himself. He gathers them into a small jar and sets it haphazardly on the counter before going to investigate his friend.
He swings the door to their bedroom open without a second thought, and he immediately freezes at the sight before him. There lies D3rlord, on the edge of the bed, shirtless and frantically reaching for his back feathers. He appears distressed and exhausted, as if he’s tried this multiple times. He immediately swivels his head around to the sound of the door rapidly opening.
The two simply stare at each other for a moment.
“What’s… uhh… Everything okay…?” Avery asks quietly.
D3rlord looks around for a moment, mentally and physically overwhelmed. He’s been tortured by useless tidbits of information on how different animals groom themselves (or completely random information from time to time), knowing he’ll never be able to reach his problem. All while growing increasingly frustrated. A large patch of unkempt pinfeathers on his shoulder blades stick out like a sore thumb.
“Yes,” is all he mutters back.
Avery straightens himself out. Right. He can’t chicken (ha) out of his plan now! He slowly walks into the dimly-lit room, the only source of light coming from a candle on the nightstand.
“…You sure you don’t need a little help?”
D3rlord pauses, unsure about the raw display of vulnerability. He’s—Nervousness about being vulnerable are often signs of poor self-image or other conditions that would otherwise be hidden.
He blinks, ignoring the sudden interruption. He’s not nervous. It’s just—Group grooming is often a bonding experience between many species, including monkeys.
Stop it! He doesn’t care about any of that! He knows that he doesn’t take care of himself. He knows letting Avery help him would be a first. In fact, all of this friendship and the elements of it is relatively new to him. He knows all of that. He doesn’t need involuntary reminders!
His head begins to throb faintly.
“D3r?”
D3rlord looks over to Avery again. He’s forgotten that he was sitting in silence with himself. Desperate for anyone to save him from his feathery suffering, he gives up with a sigh.
“I don’t mind,” he says quietly.
“Oh, cool! Let me open the curtains, at least. It’s like a cave in here,” Avery hums casually, heading for the single window next to the bed. He pulls back the patterned fabric with a swift motion, the late afternoon sun spilling into the room. D3rlord squints, adjusting to the light.
Avery moves to sit behind D3rlord on his bed, almost stumbling on his own blankets on the other side of the room. He squints, trying to understand what he’s looking at.
D3rlord stares at him from over his shoulder, but says nothing.
“Soo, what’s the issue?” Avery asks cluelessly. He’s never really dealt with hybrids before, despite being not exactly human himself. He’s pretty sure D3r offhandedly mentioned that he was some sort of human-harpy descendant. He can’t remember. All he knows for sure is he’s part bird, part dude! No problemo, though. Hybrids live basically everywhere. He’s seen people of all species!
D3rlord thinks (or tries to through the constant noise of his brain) for a moment, feeling smaller than he’d like to. Whatever. He needs help with this. How humbling it may be will be over soon.
“The pinfeathers,” he says briefly, “on my back.”
“These?” Avery asks, haphazardly poking the bundle of fresh feathers cloaked in keratin shells. D3rlord jolts away from his hand, jaw tightening. He’d rather die than tell Avery that the newly grown feathers are extremely sensitive.
“Be careful, please,” he says, cautiously fanning out his tail feathers in defense.
“Oh! I’m super sorry!” Avery frowns, backing away from D3rlord. D3rlord sighs to himself, turning back to face the window and relaxing his shoulders.
“So, what? I just gotta take off the shells?” Avery tilts his head.
D3rlord nods.
“Okay. I’ll be mega careful. Don’t even sweat it!” He whistles confidently.
He slowly reaches his gelatinous fingers to softly clutch the first shell. It basically falls apart in his grip already, breaking into dry, flaky pieces that stick to his skin. He slowly twists it until it falls off, watching the ensnared feather unfurl to its full size. D3rlord almost instantly reflexes away to save face, but he tries to stay put. Unfortunately, he occasionally flinches despite the soothing sensation.
Avery hums to himself to fill the silence as he moves from one feather to another. He gingerly grabs the next one, softly pinching the keratin shell and pulling it off of a particularly long feather. It fluffs out evenly, and Avery admires it with a calm gaze.
Unfortunately for D3rlord, he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the nonchalant facade. His thoughts fighting him doesn’t make it any easier. While he’s trying to pretend the entire interaction isn’t extremely intimate for him, his brain screams irrelevant information.
Mostly irrelevant. One of them, however, haunts him.
Many different animal species perform social grooming as more than just cleanliness, but as familial bonds or pair bonding.
The term hangs over his head like a weight.
Pair bonding.
He’s not in a “pair.” He’s simply close with Avery! As a friend. He couldn’t ever like Avery that way. Not because he finds it wrong, but because he’s simply not worthy. Avery is the one piece of this world he might be able to save from its clutches. To get him tangled in a romantic relationship would be nothing short of a punishment. A burden.
It’s nothing. His brain spouts nonsense all the time. He’s just glad Avery makes it more tolerable. Nothing else.
D3rlord is snapped out of his internal spiral when Avery curiously wafts his hand over his juvenile patch of feathers. He flinches at the ticklish sensation, quickly turning to face Avery. Of course, he’s unaware how deep red his own cheeks are.
Avery pulls back, eyes widening. Is D3rlord blushing? He looks away from his friend in an attempt to hide his similarly flustered expression that quickly blooms across his face.
“Uhm. Sorry,” Avery says awkwardly, “Hahaa. Ha. It’s done, by the way. Your feathers and stuff are good,” he sputters, standing up from the bed.
Avery walks towards the hall, lingering at the doorframe.
“I got some berries. Also. If you want any, and stuff.”
He quickly leaves.
D3rlord stays put on the bed, now staring at the empty hall. He sighs, pulling himself together. He grabs his simple black shirt from the floor, pushing aside his golden helmet that he let roll far enough from the armor stand. He pulls it over his torso and slowly stands up.
Now that the tension has left the room, D3rlord can finally realize how much better he feels. He lets out a small sigh of relief.
Berries. He’s coming to the living room to eat berries with Avery and to say thank you. That’s it.
Yeah.
Alright, he needs to hurry. Avery’s waiting for him.