"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."
Watson sighs, baffled. "I'm not sure I would be so casual about turning into a large bird, but as long as you are not troubled, love. That's all. But I do not love you because you are like me, at the end of the day."
"I'll admit, I'd find it strange if this situation reversed didn't disturb you." César lays his head down and closes his eyes. "... I love you, too. Are you okay with this? Or does it bother you?"
He takes a moment to think about it, to choose his words carefully.
"It unsettles me a little," Watson admits. He does not stop petting César's neck, though. "I would be lying if I said it didn't. Still, if you find it agreeable, at least temporarily, I cannot be angry about it."
"Hm. I suppose mean angry on your behalf. That this was done to you without your consent. I realise it isn't the first I've seen someone's body changed on this ship. And you're certainly taking it better than other people here."
Security. He's thinking of Security.
"You are... so soft," he adds, with a bit of a laugh.
"Emus were generally not something one had the chance to pet, when I was a boy, you understand. Rather, something to be chased off." Watson shakes his head. "Which... I apologise for trying to chase you off. Not my wisest moment, I admit."
"Is that really punishing me?" Watson points out. "And for that matter, I can think of better things to do with you than pet you. Of course," he continues, smiling, "not as an emu."
"Anywhere they can rest their head, to be honest. I'm my own fluffy blanket." César hums. "I think I might just. I haven't napped with you for a whole three days."
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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.
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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?"
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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."
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"Calling in the military for emus seems slightly ridiculous." He laughs, gently running his fingers through feathers. "You really are remarkably soft, you realise."
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"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."
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He pauses for a moment, then sighs happily. "... being pet is a lot nicer as a bird."
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"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!"
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"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.
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Really, why would he be upset?
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"It unsettles me a little," Watson admits. He does not stop petting César's neck, though. "I would be lying if I said it didn't. Still, if you find it agreeable, at least temporarily, I cannot be angry about it."
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He's a very relaxed bird. That petting is incredibly nice.
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Security. He's thinking of Security.
"You are... so soft," he adds, with a bit of a laugh.
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"You're so protective of me." He laughs, too. "I really am. It's like I'm wearing a down blanket."
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Hey, the fact they've gone this long without a bird pun is a fucking miracle.
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"I'll ruffle your feathers, if you don't watch out."
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His touch is gentle, soothing.
"You're welcome to nap right here, if you want."
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