Obsidians, dull, ugly, small, and foul tempered. If it were up to Itai they would've been wiped clean out as soon as the first one was born, lucky for them however because it most certainly wasn't up to him. While Crystallines stood perfect and untarnished, all the other bloodlines seemed to suffer under the heel of their own inbreeding. In fact, Itai had been writing a thesis on this very topic! Riverines were often sickly and riddled with health problems, Obsidians were genetically stunted from birth and their brains were under developed causing them to constantly be angry, and Sapphires and Sanguines were genetically designed to self destruct, not understand proper hygiene, and bring shame upon themselves! All astute assessments by, soon to be Councilman Itai.

Though he was in need of a little extra information, this thesis would come in handy, he was very sure of it. To help nip certain problems in the bud, and hopefully better his people as a whole. It was a new dawn, a new day, with the smell of change on the winds. Peering outside of his cluttered alcove, the afternoon sun shone brightly in the sky. "Ah! That time already?" Lips curled into a self satisfied smile as he swept up his satchel, paper, quills, and all.

The Roc would descend into the market, bright eyes scanning over magpies that hesitated under his keen eye before shifting back into the motions of work, they'd rather avoid a long winded lecture and the potential write up. Besides, they were all who he wasn't looking for. Riverines, Sanguines, and a rare Sapphire (he always made an effort to make it extremely difficult on a Sapphire who wished to join his ranks).

It didn't take long, sifting through the marketplace for the hellion's eyes to catch sight of those dull feathers, the blueish grey hues, and the short stature. Brows rose and lips curled into the crooked smile. Obsidian. "Moxie!" He called, head raising so that when he did approach the male, he was simply towering over him. If his memory served him correctly (which it always did), this one was a jay. What fool made him a jay? What a laugh!!! "Excuse me, Moxie. I've some questions, if you're willing to sit through an interview. Simple, routine stuff, a survey of sorts!" He came to sit and balance on his haunches, already digging through his satchel for paper and charcoal.

Even with his small stature and dull coloration, it seemed impossible for the Jay to escape to ever leering eyes of the most lowly, brown-nosing, shit sniffing, yellow bellied keeper of the words. Ever since his family had began to reintegrate themselves into El Dorado he always had the suspicion that one day, he would be subjected to this torture, unknowingly to him that it would be so soon after his arrival (and by soon he meant a few years).

"Moxie!"

God, it sounded like nails on a fucking chalkboard. The squeaky, high pitched, "excuse me if I may" (which he never would be excused), voice cutting through the otherwise glorious silence that had enveloped the day. His ears pinned back to his head, but he did not turn around to address the Roc of Wings. No he would not turn and give him the satisfaction that he had heard his stupid fucking voice. "What the hell do you want?" A grumble escaped the smaller wolf, and yes, he did notice as Itai came to his front that he was standing up quite taller than normal. Apparently attempting to make himself look bigger. Fucking newsflash asshole, Moxie has been smaller than LITERALLY EVERYONE HERE, you're just making yourself look like a larger, hairier, piece of shit.

"Excuse me, Moxie. I've some questions, if you're willing to sit through an interview. Simple, routine stuff, a survey of sorts!"

"Is it a matter of if I'm willing, or a matter of you're gonna fucking make me anyway?" He had a feeling it was the latter. "Because if I have a choice, I'd rather fucking not be your god damn guinea pig Itai." Itai had always been one to throw around his standing in the faces who were, well, lower than him. And that just pissed Moxie right off. Itai was very attached to the Crystalline family, and that was no fucking secret. He'd wipe their ass with his precious fucking scrolls if he was asked to. It was disgusting. If he wasn't such a fucking snake, Moxie might feel an inkling of pity for him- nah. Not even then.

Ah that famous Obsidian venom, though Itai was used to such speak from these half-pints. He'd greet the other with a wide, crooked grin. "Come now, temper temper. I merely wish to ask you questions, I'm not out here to hurt you in anyway." He feigned surprise, pressing a paw to his chest. Even the smallest outbursts would be eagerly recorded.

"It's a learning experience for us, Moxie. I'm worried is all, your health might be suffering with how angry and stressed you are all the time. We wouldn't want your feathers falling out now." Teeth glittered as black lips pulled upward. "My questions are far less painless than the social ramifications of your feathers falling out, trust me." The hellion would crane his neck slightly, trying to meet the smaller male's eye.

Without further ado, it was question time. "Answer these the best you can, all data is good data." Especially in this case. He straightened himself, aheming loudly to clear his throat. "How often do you find yourself getting angry? Can you usually pinpoint the cause of your irritability? On a scale of 1-10 how stressed are you right now? Are any of your feathers feeling loose and/or have they fallen out recently? Do you consider yourself a hindrance to your rank as a jay? What would you say the average morality rate of an Obsidian is? Are your bones more likely to break because of your small stature? Are you aware that your dulled coloration is actually genetic defect?" The rapid fire of his questions came to a close and he paused to see if the jay had gotten all of it, eagerly waiting for a response.

"Ah, and finally, as a possible progenitor of your bloodline I find it important for you to understand the risks that you could be potentially passing down. It's only right. So when you're ready answer, go on." The Roc urged, that same crooked grin appearing upon his maw once more, waiting just simply waiting for Moxie's crest to rise.

He was so. Fucking. AGGRIVATING.

"Not out here to hur-  Thats fucking Bullshit Itai, and you know it."  The want-to-be Aviari had always had a silver tongue, and had always held himself at such a high, pristine level because he was in the good graces of the Crystalline.  Moxie had never remembered liking the snake-like hound, of course he could probably pin that on the fact that he was so up the ass of Miriam, always trying to get an attaboy from her, it was disgusting.   The Obsidian man let out an arguably longer than possible sigh, at Itai's attempt to justify this breech of privacy as an attempt to learn, and teach and sing kumbiyah, something about his feathers falling out or some bullshit. "You're absolutely right, I'd hate to look anything close to your ugly, featherless ass."  He was able to squeeze in between Itai's long winded speeches.  

And then, he rambled.  

Itai rambled out questions that he most likely thought of as he stayed up all night, questions he knew would quite literally ruffle the feathers of the small Obsidian man.  Moxie really only half listened to what the Roc was asking, huffing at some, and growling at most.  With each question, the threat of him just launching himself forward and ripping Itai's silver tongue right out of his mouth.  But instead, his crest began to raise slightly with each, idiotic, stupid fucking question Itai came up with, but it didn't reach it's full crest.  

Moxie's answers were going to be a little more colorful than what Itai would hope to expect.  Or maybe it was what he expected, and hoped for.

"I find myself getting angry about as many times as you kiss up on Miriams ass.  Usually YOU are the cause of my irritability- which brings up the stress scale that you're asking me about.  I'm not stressed right now, so put me at a fucking zero, but I am irritated as shit, probably at a fucking 12 on that fucking scale."  He said, his voice getting louder and louder with each sentence, directing all his anger at the scribe.  "None of my fucking feathers have fallen out.  Of course I don't consider my- never mind, that was a stupid fucking question.  This whole fucking thing is stupid.  Where did you even come up with these questions?"  He said, huffing and puffing, beginning to pace now, back and forth, his angry yellow eyes, never leaving the Roc.

"Fucking mortality rate??  Probably a lot longer than yours is starting to look.  And speaking of broken bones, let's see whose are stronger, yours or mine? I can tell you it's definitely not yours.  Let's put that to the test.  You can write down the results on your precious fucking paper. In red ink."  Moxie had to stop himself, he could feel his muscles tense, pulling themselves toward the Roc, the anger was pulsing through his veins, but he could not attack him.  As much as he wanted to, as much as he wanted to skin Itai alive.  

He could not.  Because unfortunately it was frowned upon.  

But as they say, there was more than one way to skin a cat.  Or in this case, a snake.  

"My genetic makeup is far more fucking superior than your genetic fucking defects of having no spread at all.  At least I belong to a fucking family by blood, and not have to weasel my way into it.  I may not be the most stunning Aviari, like your precious fucking Crystalline.." He paused, his eyes narrowed, and he looked straight at the Roc of Wings.

"But at least I am Aviari."

There it was all hellfire and brimstone, and as expected Moxie snapped and hooted and hollered. Itai merely looked at him with an amused expression, smug and pleased with this outcome. Scrawling down not the answers, but actually his reactions. After all this was what Itai had really wanted in the first place and Moxie played along according to plan so easily.

With his information written down, the hellion looked it over, all the while Moxie went on insulting and threatening, completely ignoring him. Glancing back to the small aviari with a quirked brow as he placed the scroll back into his satchel. "My apologies Moxie, were you saying something?" Itai questioned, head tilting to the side and expression genuinely curious, but still undeniably smug.

"Oof, Moxie, my friend. What's with all this hostility? It was just a few small questions. I don't understand why you're so mad." The Roc craned his neck slightly, flicking his tail. "Though I must admit, I don't usually say a lot of good things about the Riverine, I mean honestly there isn't much good to say about them. Buuuut, when I gave one of them that survey their answers were more up to speed." A raised paw whirled a claw around thoughtfully. "Just an observation." There came the smile.

Tail lashed, and smile grew wider, clearly all too pleased with himself. "Thank you for your answers, I know how hard it is for Obsidians to formulate answers on such a basic level." He'd glance at his claws, as he usually did before he was about to say something in a schooling manner. "It's not a surprise that genetically you're at such a disadvantage. That's the price of inbreed, though your bloodline was hit the hardest." He'd pause for a moment and shrug. "Small stature, underdeveloped brains. You're like tiny snapping crocodiles, little ticking time bombs." Crooked grin spreading wider.

"Your coloration is merely an effect of that. Dull, just like your brains." Ear perked upward, brows raised. Moxie was merely lucky that Itai knew how to ignore a threat, after all he was civilized. "There are far worse things in this world than be a hellion without feathers. Being apart of your inferior bloodline is certainly one of them." He'd wave a paw around Moxie in a gesture that meant 'all of you'. Tick tick tick.

Patience was not a word that Moxie knew, nor was it a word that he used or practiced in his life.  Of course he knew of the word, but it was rarely ever used by him.  So to say that Itai was testing his patience would be a severely gross understatement.  Moxies eyes were mere slits as the seemed to cut right through the Roc, the smug little bastard.  

Hate was a strong word, but it wasn't trough enough for what Moxie felt for the slimy heathen that stood in front of him, berating his lineage, basically spitting on the history that occurred.  Leaving out bits and pieces about how his family was singled out, how they were driven almost to extinction.  It boiled his blood, and shattered whatever kindness he had left in his heart (however black and frozen as it was).  Moxie held a deep hatred for the elites, as it was well known, but he held a separate, more in depth hatred for those who helped them, knowing exactly what they were doing, not saying anything, going with the flow just because it wasn't them getting abandoned.  Fuck em all.

Moxie listened, or maybe he just sat there, blood running through his ears, causing them to ring as Itai rattled on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.  GOD DID HE EVEN BREATHE BETWEEN HIS SENTENCES. Continuing to berate him, and his bloodline.  Every word cutting into Moxie like a whip, every syllable aiding that crest on top of his head to rise ever so slightly, more and more with every disgusting lie, and shitty insult until finally, it was at it's peak, and Moxie would not stand for this bullshit anymore.  He was done with Itai's self-righteous diarrhea cascading out of his mouth.  "Shut the fuck up Itai."  Moxie whispered, ever so calmly. So eerily calm.  

But he commenced to talk, and more shit poured out.

"Shut. The. FUCK. UP!" He hissed out, this time with more force, and more purpose.  He could feel his muscles tighten, he couldn't hold back anymore.  He couldn't HE COULDN'T STOP! FUCK! YOU!.  And like the spring of a trap, Moxie flew forward towards the Roc, his jaws parted, eyes filled with fury and anger, a demonic sound escaped his maw as he leaped towards Itai.  

Jaws closed around his target, and he could feel the crunching of bone, and flesh curl between his fangs as his feet touched back down onto the dirt.  Blood dribbled down his chin, spilling onto the forest floor.  His bloodlust being quenched as his jaws tightened, tighter and tighter, until he felt a final snap.  A final breath.

Body limp in his jaws.  




Finally.. some god damn peace and quiet.