From Bricks to Smolder [Open]

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne could only watch helplessly as Aeolus took his glasses and crushed them in his talon. "I need those to see!" he said exasperatedly. But Aeolus had already come after him as he finished, ruffling and pulling out several of his feathers. Hawthorne could do little to stop him, and Aeolus was so quick that before long he had stopped, satisfied with the damage he had already done.

Hawthorne glared at the military griffon, completely unhappy with the other griffon's disregard for anything Hawthorne thought about the matter. "No I'm not going to help you weather my beak," he said indignantly. "What exactly are you trying to do, make me look like a vagabond?" Hawthorne knew the other griffon had been insistent on changing his appearance, and he could reasonably agree to it considering there were criminal griffons being sent after him. But he hadn't expected Aeolus to be so rough and sudden about it.

[Red Charge]

"That's exactly what I want you to look like. If we're gonna go around snooping for a bounty on your head, if you look even half similar any criminal would just take your head to Tempest, whether you really were you will matter little to them. Of course if you no longer want my help, I can always leave and wait for you to get killed so I can follow them back to Tempest." Aeolus said, picking up a nearby rock.

"Choice is yours buddy. Tempest isn't gonna stop and I'm your best if not only chance at staying alive. So, what'll it be?"

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne let out a sigh, knowing Aeolus was right. He didn't have any choice in the matter. The only way to keep other blade-carrying griffons from coming after him was to totally change his appearance. He just hated how bluntly Aeolus was going about the matter. The other griffon was in total control of the situation. "Fine. Just get it over with."

[Red Charge]

"Alright, now hold still. You can always manicure it after we're done anyway. Not like anything I'm doing to you is permanent. Well that stab wound is, but other than that..." He said, grabbing Hawthorne's beak roughly and grinding the stone against it over and over, scratching the surface with the rough face of the rock until it lost all of its shine and smooth texture. Looking at himself now, Hawthorne would likely see an unkempt, drifter looking Griffon that looked more in place in the Hollow than anywhere else, with all of the griffon-handling Aeolus inflicted on him.

"Alright, now you need... hmm, goggles. Flight sun-goggles, and a shaggier cloak. Then we'll have to stain your feathers, maybe dye them. Alright, you wait here, I'll go get all the stuff we need." The griffon said, taking off quickly and flying away into the city.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne didn't put up a fight as Aeolus scratched up his beak, merely waiting for the griffon to hurry up and finish. And before long, the other griffon had flown off to get more things, leaving Hawthorne alone in the roc pen. Except for the roc itself of course. The military griffon was frantic to say the least, constantly moving from one thing to the next with little regard for what others thought about it.

The professor put a talon to his beak, feeling it's now-roughed-up surface. He walked over to the remains of his glasses, picking up the bent and broken frame before tossing it to the side. The griffon noticed a water trough close to where they landed, and decided to get a look at his new appearance.

Wow. He really did look like a vagabond. Aeolus had certainly done a convincing job, as Hawthorne hardly looked fit to work a register let alone teach at a university. He supposed that part of his life was gone for the time being too. What was he going to do about his students, though? Classes resumed the next day, and there was no way for him to contact the university about his current predicament. Everyone would be expecting him to show up for his lecture. They'd probably cancel class for the week, try to contact him, maybe end up pulling in a substitute until they could get a permanent replacement.

There wasn't really anything he could do though. And nothing he could do now either for the matter. Hawthorne took a few steps away from the trough, lying down next to the wall and closing his eyes. Maybe he could fall back asleep until Aeolus returned. It would certainly help pass the time.

[Red Charge]

Hawthorne woke up to the rough handling of his feather coat yet again, this time an odd smell smell accompanied it. He saw the Roc standing outside, and Aeolus over him, shampooing his feathers with what appeared to be a brown paste. Brown feather dye. Of course he made sure to overuse it in several areas to create the stained effect.

Naturally it had not yet set, and it stung heavily on his fresh wound. But Aeolus finished quickly and efficiently until not a shade of his original color. Thinking of it, he looked like an entirely new griffon now. A hardcore new griffon. Aeolus handed him his sun goggles.
"Well, hope you're ready for some exercise today. Straining your muscles will make you look more buff. Which is exactly what we need." He said beginning to stretch in preparation.

[Ambrosios]

Aeolus scrubbing something into Hawthorne's feather's caused him to awaken. By now Hawthorne was used to Aeolus's rough and unannounced handling of him, and merely stood up so the other griffon could reach the feathers he had been laying on. The dye hitting his wound created a sudden and unpleasant stinging, but other than that the procedure went hitch-free. When Aeolus had finished, Hawthorne turned his neck to look at the result, feeling melancholy about the change.

"Exercise?" Hawthorne asked, taking the sun goggles. He strapped them on, covering his eyes, but found they only further blurred his already impaired vision. "Not sure how much that's going to do in a day," he continued, moving the goggles back up to his forehead. Hawthorne was tall and lanky to begin with, and far from prime physical condition. Just helping with the relief-effort yesterday left him sore, and he questioned how much more physical exertion he would be able to handle today. "But if you're the expert, which you seem to be on completely changing a griffon's appearance."

[Red Charge]

"I read a lot of books." Aeolus answered, "Anyway, exercise, I'm not talking about running or flying, no we need you to bulge. I'm talking strength. You'll do all I tell you to do, and if you feel you can't do anymore, you do it anyway. Keep in mind that if we can't make you bulge, we'll just have to make you uglier."

At that Aeolus yanked him outside where he pointed towards a set of what appeared to be fabricated weights, that is rocks tied together in various sizes. At that he began instructing the other griffon as to how to work.

The training was ruthless, even when Hawthorne could no longer lift the fabricated weights, even when he collapsed the other griffon would yank him back up to his feet and force him to do more, not leaving him alone for even a moment of respite until heh ad finished all of his sets.

All of Hawthorne's muscles were now cramped, his voice hoarse from the strain and effort of grunting each time. However, the results were more than impressive. His seized muscles now bulged out painfully and uncomfortably, he felt every move as though he was being hit with a blunt object, but he looked now far more impressive than he ever thought he could.

"You are so beautiful now I could just kiss you!" Aeolus said, tapping Hawthorne hard on his back one last time. "Alright, now we're heading off." The soldier commanded, taking off towards the city again.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne felt like collapsing by the time they had finished. Heck, he had already collapsed several times, but that didn't stop Aeolus from picking him back up and making him continue. Every muscle in his body pulsated with aching pain, tightening and releasing with each beat. The griffon tried taking a step forward, finding himself met with a symphony of stretching muscles that resisted with every movement. He was heaving heavily, his body desperately trying to make up for spent oxygen. It couldn't be healthy for someone as out of shape as him to do such strenuous exercise in such a short period.

The didn't stop Aeolus though, and not more than a few seconds after they had finished, the other griffon had already flown off towards the city, expecting Hawthorne to follow. The griffon looked helplessly as the other griffon began flying away, desperately tired and his body not in much condition to do anything right now. Aeolus's "go, go, go" and complete disregard for Hawthorne's thoughts or physical state was starting to grate on him. It had long become obvious that Aeolus wasn't there to keep Hawthorne safe but that Hawthorne was there to get Aeolus a promotion.

Gulping into a dry throat, the griffon expanded his wings painfully and began following Aeolus. His muscles were fighting him every step of the way, demanding that he stop and allow them to rest. He could only hope they were going towards something that wouldn't require any physical exertion. Otherwise, he'd probably end up smacking the other griffon.

[Red Charge]

And then they landed smack dab in the middle of the shadiest neighborhood in Royal Rocks, where all of the lower class workers lived. Because, of course, someone had to clean, collect garbage, and serve the upper classes, or Royal Rocks would simply collapse. There they found a rather shady looking hangout, not a tavern or an inn, not even a coffee shop, just a warehouse full of crates where all sorts of shady types gathered together. Hawthorne had only just noticed a substantial change in Aeolus, as though his entire griffon type had changed mid flight. Must have been some sort of potion, or sorts. Aeolus did look slightly dizzy coming round. Possibly the after effects of the potion.

"Alright, now we'll find a tasty bounty." Said Aeolus neutrally, "Act gruff, don't whine, heck don't talk unless spoken to." He whispered to his protectorate.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthrone looked around nervously at where they had landed. It was one of the more dangerous areas of Royal Rocks, where the lower class lived and the scum of the city congregated. Hardly the type of place he was used to. It was until they had landed that Hawthorne realized Aeolus had somehow changed his appearance. A potion maybe?

Hawthorne listened to what the other griffon had to say, nodding at the part about not speaking unless spoken too. He wanted to avoid a chance to slip up as much as possible, and the less he had to talk the better.

[Red Charge]

Aeolus led them to a table where a game of cards was taking place. A simple game called "The Fool". Aeolus joined in with Hawthorne in a couples' game, whispering the rules in his ear silently and quickly as a guise of strategising, hoping the professor's keen intellect would allow him to catch on to the game.

They played a few rounds on Aeolus' money, ended up winning (thanks to Aeolus cunning and slight of hand in transferring cards between his hand and Hawthorne's) a small sum of money. Earning at least some recognition from the other griffons, before they spotted a very shadowy looking griffon sitting silently in the corner. An open invite if there ever was one. Aeolus walked casually and sat down by him without making eye contact.

"You the dealer around here?" He asked, the shadowy griffon nodded from his place in the dark corner. "What's the word?"

The Shadowy dealer leaned forwards, revealing a heavy set black beak and fiery orange eyes, "Word's out on some goody two shoe, apparently already killed two who tried to give him the run-down. Could be he left town, but the Talent Scout's got a hefty reward on his head."

"Heh," Aeolus turned to Hawthorne, "Could be that guy we met earlier, kept squawking about things he shouldn't have didn't he? Here." He said, handing out several of Hawthorne's undyed crest feathers. "Had this on him too." Aeolus dropped the token casually on the table.

"Told ya it was a good idea to whack'im." He said, nudging Hawthorne in the side and chuckling evilly. His voice quite scruffy and thick now.

The Dealer looked at the token and the feathers, the nlooking up at Aeolus, "Where'd you bury him?"

"We didn't, he's sleeping with the wolves now." Aeolus said, a euphemism for the action of throwing someone off the cliffs.

"He had any journal on him?" The dealer asked suspiciously.

Aeolus thought for a few moments, "Blimey did we even check him?" He asked Hawthorne, ever so subtly signaling him no with his talon under the table.

[Ambrosios]

"Had a bag on him," Hawthorne answered plainly, catching Aeolus's signal. He wasn't sure whether the other griffon had just wanted him to say they hadn't searched through what the theoretically dead professor had on him, but he was taking some initiative here. It didn't sound likely that two muggers would kill a griffon and not see if he had anything valuable, and Hawthorne figured it was best to keep the story believable. Besides, said bag was still back at the roc pen, away from where anyone would find it.

"No journal, though. Just some junk." He had almost mentioned the dagger, but caught himself before doing so. He didn't want to get asked why they had left it behind.

[Red Charge]

"You greedy bastard," Aeolus shoved him, "Better not be holding out on me or I'll cut yer face." He said, winking for him to play along.

The dealer apparently found it believable enough, "Don't suppose you got anything useful out of him, ah well. Fine, go to Stone Valley, where the old stone circle is. Right? Tomorrow at around evening nightish. Don't show and you'll be nobodies. But if you did give him the run-down, could be we can find something for you to do. Alright? Here, take this for now, consider it advance payment." The dealer dropped a heavy sack, full of jingling coins.

Aeolus nodded, "Alright, looks like the night's shaping up after all. Oi, wanna do another game or wanna get us a fancy room with those uppity fritters and 'disturb the peace'?" Aeolus asked his compatriot, "Maybe find us one of those feisty 'noble' girls and have her down for dinner if you get my meaning. Should ruffle up some feathers up top eh?" He said, laughing as he began walking just as casually away from the table. They left the warehouse as casually as they came in, as though they were used to that sort of thing.

[Ambrosios]

Hawthorne caught Aeolus's wink, but didn't get a chance to do more than shoot him an annoyed look. The deailer had soon made them an offer, left them with a sack of coins, and left them on their merry way. "Do whatever the heck you want. I just want a drink." He was finding the role surprisingly easily to adapt to, as long as he kept things simple.

He waited until they had left the warehouse to finally say anything else. "And now?" he asked, rubbing his shoulder. He was still incredibly sore from his work out, and was hoping Aeolus didn't have much else planned for the evening.