A Mockingbird In The Crows Nest

Towards The Sun

The trip to Las Nevadas goes by in a blur.

Tommy eats the snacks that Sally and her brother gave him, and doesn't taste anything. He runs careful fingers through the plushies fur, and tries not to think about cool fingers combing through his feathers.

And apparently, he fell asleep while doing that. Because the next thing he knows; he's jolting awake as the train hauls to a stop. Standing on wobbly legs; he's a little surprised to see there's still no one else in this carriage. And when he peers into the next one after throwing the bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door; he realizes there's on one in that carriage either. Which is very weird. He figured this train would be packed since it's literally the biggest tourist spot in the country.

Sure, it's early. But people still go to tourist spots at ass-o'clock in the morning.

Then the doors slide open.

It doesn't look real, is the first thing Tommy thinks as he steps out onto perfectly polished tile. It's far too clean and organized for a fucking subway station. Too polished and pristine for this to be an actual place that thousands of people use every day.

There are tall, marble columns inlaid with gold that reach up to an arching ceiling. Deep, red curtains are draped in the rafters and swaying gently in the breeze created by the thin windows open up there. And along the walls are huge, floor-to-ceiling windows showing a very pretty garden full of flowers and fountains; all of it turned a pastel yellow in the early morning light.

The next thing he notes is that it's hot . The kind of heat where you just bake in it until you cave in and take a cold bath just to cool down. He hasn't even been outside for more than a minute- and already he wants to take off his hoodie to escape it. He won't, of course. He has an identity to conceal. But the urge is there.

Ducking his head, Tommy does his best to weave through the thin morning crowd without drawing too much attention to himself.

But with his dark colored clothes and rumpled feathers; he feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb in the pristine station. He can feel the second looks and lingering glances from everyone burning on his back as he high-tails it up the short flight of stairs and into the city itself.

The early morning sun practically blinds him; but he doesn't falter. He just shoves his hands into the pockets of the hoodie and barrels forward blindly. He stares down at his feet as he makes his way down the sidewalk until his eyes adjust enough to look around.

It looks like he's in the heart of Las Nevadas. Gift shops, five-star restaurants, convenience stores and fast food chains are all crammed together in narrow shops up and down the entire street. Street vendors trying to sell him postcards or tacky sunglasses or some other kind of nick-knack or food litter the sidewalk, creating a chorus of cheerful voices that're far too loud for what can't be any later than 8 am.

Tommy pretends like he can't hear them; ducking past people with his steps confident like he has a place to be. They lose interest pretty quickly, and Tommy tilts his eyes up to try and figure out where he's supposed to go. Because yeah- this place is rumored to be led by the king of Rogues. But there's really only one place to find him.