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César's head is still low, but it does go a little bit higher when the hand is held out. Meekly, he approaches it, going deliberately slow. He should really say something. But. But bird brain makes it hard.

"There, that's a good... bird." Oh this is terrible, awkward, so dumb. At least he probably won't die if the thing decides to attack him, but it will be an embarrassing injury at least. Maybe he can at least manage to circle around and shut it in the infirmary while he goes for help. "You're all right."

Watson thinks he's a real bird. Oh. He should. Say something. Wow it's overstimulating to be in a new body now that he's had a good fright. Or frighten in internet lingo.

Maybe if he counts to work himself up to talking. On the count of! Three. Two. One.

"Little bear." César chirps meekly, not fighting the translation for once.

He stops abruptly. There is no particular way to be prepared for your husband's voice coming out of an emu.

"What the hell--César, is that you?"

César... nods. Which is a very strange movement for a bird to make.

"Sundries gift." A beat, and then he hangs his head low. "Got excited and thought I'd surprise you."

"Well," Watson says, at a loss.. "Well."

A beat.

"Well, come here. You startled me severely." He lets out a puff of laughter, even as he beckons César over. "You could have said something before letting me make a fool out of myself."

César perks up immediately, head going up, and does a happy bouncing dance in place and—his ship phone clatters to the ground along with a red bow tie, jostled free from... someplace on his side.

"Ah! Hold on a moment, my wings are so small." César stares at them for a moment and pecks at the phone.

Tries to get his beak around it carefully. Oh, no, it's on the floor, and he can't. He pecks at it from a few different angles. Then finally nudges it to slide towards Watson and picks up the bow tie, trotting over.

With an exasperated, fond sigh, Watson bends to pick up the dropped phone.

"They're hardly wings at all," he says, baffled. "I'm impressed you were holding anything. Look. I mean. I rather hope this isn't permanent. Are you all right, besides the... emu thing?"

César puts his bow down on the table next to Watson before speaking. "I'm fine and not stuck! Took me a bit, but I figured out how to shift back and forth. With a lot of bone crunching noises and my clothes disappearing. Everything's so different! And I made myself a bow to wear to make me look civilized!"

He sounds cheerful.

Edited (oops icon) 2023-02-09 05:25 (UTC)

"Well, that's the most pressing issue dealt with."

He looks César up and down, his expression still... very confused. "You're... look, this is..." Completely at a loss for words, Watson reaches out to -- very gently -- pat the soft feather fluffs.

"Fluffy. I'm fluffy and soft." César leans right into that pet, and boy, is that neck flexible. "I got a holographic card that showed me turning into an emu, just like the covers of a book series I used to read! Felt a little different and figured out how to go back and forth in an hour. At least I don't have to stash clothes like they did, though."

Oh this is the most number of sentences César has said consecutively for quite some time.

"Can you put my bow on?" He really wants his bow on.

"You read books about people turning into emus?"

This is a lot to take in. Watson picks up the bow, and takes a deep breath. "Of course. Here, love." How fragile is an emu neck? It must be fairly sturdy. He starts tying the bow artfully around César's neck, not too tight. "I thought for a moment -- look, I haven't seen an emu since I was a boy."

"Not emus but other animals. And it was science fiction. They were fighting mind-controlling aliens." César holds patiently still, then replies brightly. "I know! That's why I wanted to show you first. How do I look?"

César steps away and turns around a full 360, his neck moving a bit... silly. Almost floppy, yet controlled. It's a bit instinctive.

"Ohhhh, my neck is so weird!"

Learning about Animorphs is probably too much for him right now. He closes his eyes for a moment.

"Well, do try to be careful until you're used to it," Watson says, trying not to be anxious. "You do seem to be taking this well."

"It's an impossible childhood dream! ... although I wouldn't have chosen an emu."

César turns back to Watson and goes still as he looks at him. He tilts his entire neck at him, considering his expression. Then he quietly walks over next to where Watson was sitting and waits for him to sit back down.

"Osito, come sit with me. Did you know that Australia went to war against emus in 1932 over crop devastation? They called it the Great Emu War. We emus won!"

The last part is said jokingly. He's not actually an emu. César thinks, anyway.

"... what, really?" Watson laughs, and checks himself. "No, you must be trying to rile me up. There's no way that's true."

He returns to his chair, because apparently he's being escorted but he can't be upset about that. "What would you have chosen if you had been allowed to pick?"

"It happened! I swear it did. Emus started eating their crops, so they called in the military. They were too fast to shoot, and they were smart enough to scatter."

César will settle down on the floor and put his long, fluffy neck and head onto Watson's lap. "... that would be a very long essay on my choices. It's so hard to decide."

Watson automatically goes to pet the head in his lap, pauses briefly as he second guesses himself, and then strokes César's neck anyway. Is it weird? Yes. But maybe he'll go with it anyway.

"Calling in the military for emus seems slightly ridiculous." He laughs, gently running his fingers through feathers. "You really are remarkably soft, you realise."

It only takes a few strokes before César closes his eyes. That's exactly what he wanted. Petting!

"Well, they were desperate. Eventually, they just put up good fences. Or something like that." César breathes out a sigh. "Mm. I am. It feels so different to have my neck touched like this."

He pauses, briefly. "A good type of different, I hope." Watson can only shake his head. This entire situation is slightly insane. "What is it like, being a bird? I must assume it's at least interesting enough to stay like this."

"A good type of different." Yet apparently less insane than some of the situations César's been in, considering how he's taking it in stride. "It's interesting for certain. Everything feels different. I see different. Everything seems so new that it's exciting."

He pauses for a moment, then sighs happily. "... being pet is a lot nicer as a bird."

"Is it, really?" Watson takes a moment to toy with the fluff on top of César's head, as hairdo-like as it is. "You certainly have more neck to touch. How does your balance feel? I suppose you have the same number of legs, but your centre of balance must be quite different."

César just stops himself from hissing at his 'hair' being messed with. Witness how much he loves Watson.

"It's so different! I feel wobbly whenever I try to think too hard about it!" Oh, César hasn't had this wonder in a long time. "The long neck is weird, but it's a lot of fun to see how I can look at things so flexibly!"

Watson will, all the same, go back to stroking César's neck.

"So, on the whole, this is a positive experience, rather than something... invasive?" He's a little worried about that. It seems like it would be invasive.

César opens his eyes and tilts his head up slightly at Watson. "... I'm a mad scientist, mi osito. The new perspective and sensations are utterly fascinating. Until they're not, and then I'll turn back."

Really, why would he be upset?

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