Adia Costas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chiron_survivor) wrote2018-12-17 10:06 am
chiron_survivor) wrote2018-12-17 10:06 am
Entry tags:
A little divine intervention
After weeks of preparation, it was finally time to relocate Zelus and Princess to Atlantis.
It was tempting — for Adia, especially — to stall a little longer. Introducing any element from the Nexus to her home world always carried the risk of exposing the secret that she had diligently kept for over four years now. But as winter approached, she felt the longing to keep those precious to her close to home. Close to the hearth. And so, she and Caspar decided to take the risk, so that their animal companions could join Anastasia in their little cabin in the woods.
When it came to the Tepig, Caspar went for the hiding-in-plain-sight strategy. He took Princess with him everywhere, tucked in the crook of his arm like an exotic fashion accessory. Amazingly, it worked. Those who already had uncharitable thoughts wrote off his pet as another example of the Cylon’s eccentric, snobbish ways. Others thought that the piglet was so darn cute that they ignored her unusual markings or how very warm she was to the touch.
Princess loved the positive attention. Caspar? Not so much. But he was happy to have Princess with him, and if that meant extra interaction with humans, he could deal with it.
~*~
Adia handled Zelus with far more subtlety. Tying the ribbon Loki gave her around the Braviary’s ankle, she set him free into the Atlantean wilderness so that he could become acclimated to his new home. It took him little time to become comfortable with the landscape, and soon he was making regular patrols around the island.
Thanks to the enchantment, no one thought twice about a giant bird circling in the sky. It was a little harder to explain why what was obviously a common, ordinary eagle would become so attached to Adia, but for this she had a ready explanation, one suggested by Thor. She told anyone who asked that she had tamed Zelus with food, which was technically the truth. Back when the Braviary was a round little rufflet living with Steve, she had earned his goodwill by feeding him blueberries. She didn’t share this exact story, of course, but people accepted it without question.
All in all, it was a seamless introduction. The combination of Divine magic and old-fashioned psychology had managed to fool everyone.
Well. Not everyone.
~*~
Though most of the Centurions stayed close to their humanoid Cylon brethren, a few obtained jobs that took them all around the island. It wasn’t unusual to find one tilling a field or mending a storm-damaged roof. One, in particular, liked to deliver packages.
Adia was preparing her garden for the winter when the delivery Centurion strode up to her door. She looked up and smiled, recognizing it as the one who had assisted her on Galactica during the Battle for Hera (as that final fight had been named). Its arm had been repaired after the war, but with a slightly different sheen of metal. It reminded her of scar tissue, but the Centurion never sought to repair it further, so it must have wanted to keep it that way.
“Hi,” she said amiably. It had never given itself a name.
The Centurion waved, then turned its roving red eye up to the roof, where Zelus was working another branch into his roost. It pointed at the pokémon, then looked at Adia with a curious tilt of its head.
“Oh, that’s Zelus. He’s taken a liking to me, probably because I feed him…”
The Centurion shook its head.
Inwardly, Adia cringed. Did Loki’s enchantment not work on robots? “I, um, I know it’s a little strange, but sometimes it’s possible to tame an eagle.”
The Centurion shook its head again and lifted its arms, holding its spindly hands apart to indicate the approximate size of an eagle. Then it spread its arms far wider. Incorrect size parameters. Error. That is not an eagle on the roof. Identity unknown.
It lowered its arms, turning its palms up in supplication. Please explain, Adia. Awaiting identification.
Adia dropped her gaze, now cringing outwardly as well. She didn’t want to lie to it, but telling the truth wasn’t an option, either. The Centurions had done a thorough scan of the mainland from low orbit. It would know that there was no eagle of that size anywhere on Earth. How would she —
Her worried thoughts were interrupted by a gentle pat on her shoulder. She looked up at the Centurion, who was crouching so that it would not tower over her.
It pointed to Zelus, then touched its own chest, then held one finger up to where its mouth would be, if it had one.
Shhh. It’s okay. It’ll be our secret.
It was tempting — for Adia, especially — to stall a little longer. Introducing any element from the Nexus to her home world always carried the risk of exposing the secret that she had diligently kept for over four years now. But as winter approached, she felt the longing to keep those precious to her close to home. Close to the hearth. And so, she and Caspar decided to take the risk, so that their animal companions could join Anastasia in their little cabin in the woods.
When it came to the Tepig, Caspar went for the hiding-in-plain-sight strategy. He took Princess with him everywhere, tucked in the crook of his arm like an exotic fashion accessory. Amazingly, it worked. Those who already had uncharitable thoughts wrote off his pet as another example of the Cylon’s eccentric, snobbish ways. Others thought that the piglet was so darn cute that they ignored her unusual markings or how very warm she was to the touch.
Princess loved the positive attention. Caspar? Not so much. But he was happy to have Princess with him, and if that meant extra interaction with humans, he could deal with it.
~*~
Adia handled Zelus with far more subtlety. Tying the ribbon Loki gave her around the Braviary’s ankle, she set him free into the Atlantean wilderness so that he could become acclimated to his new home. It took him little time to become comfortable with the landscape, and soon he was making regular patrols around the island.
Thanks to the enchantment, no one thought twice about a giant bird circling in the sky. It was a little harder to explain why what was obviously a common, ordinary eagle would become so attached to Adia, but for this she had a ready explanation, one suggested by Thor. She told anyone who asked that she had tamed Zelus with food, which was technically the truth. Back when the Braviary was a round little rufflet living with Steve, she had earned his goodwill by feeding him blueberries. She didn’t share this exact story, of course, but people accepted it without question.
All in all, it was a seamless introduction. The combination of Divine magic and old-fashioned psychology had managed to fool everyone.
Well. Not everyone.
~*~
Though most of the Centurions stayed close to their humanoid Cylon brethren, a few obtained jobs that took them all around the island. It wasn’t unusual to find one tilling a field or mending a storm-damaged roof. One, in particular, liked to deliver packages.
Adia was preparing her garden for the winter when the delivery Centurion strode up to her door. She looked up and smiled, recognizing it as the one who had assisted her on Galactica during the Battle for Hera (as that final fight had been named). Its arm had been repaired after the war, but with a slightly different sheen of metal. It reminded her of scar tissue, but the Centurion never sought to repair it further, so it must have wanted to keep it that way.
“Hi,” she said amiably. It had never given itself a name.
The Centurion waved, then turned its roving red eye up to the roof, where Zelus was working another branch into his roost. It pointed at the pokémon, then looked at Adia with a curious tilt of its head.
“Oh, that’s Zelus. He’s taken a liking to me, probably because I feed him…”
The Centurion shook its head.
Inwardly, Adia cringed. Did Loki’s enchantment not work on robots? “I, um, I know it’s a little strange, but sometimes it’s possible to tame an eagle.”
The Centurion shook its head again and lifted its arms, holding its spindly hands apart to indicate the approximate size of an eagle. Then it spread its arms far wider. Incorrect size parameters. Error. That is not an eagle on the roof. Identity unknown.
It lowered its arms, turning its palms up in supplication. Please explain, Adia. Awaiting identification.
Adia dropped her gaze, now cringing outwardly as well. She didn’t want to lie to it, but telling the truth wasn’t an option, either. The Centurions had done a thorough scan of the mainland from low orbit. It would know that there was no eagle of that size anywhere on Earth. How would she —
Her worried thoughts were interrupted by a gentle pat on her shoulder. She looked up at the Centurion, who was crouching so that it would not tower over her.
It pointed to Zelus, then touched its own chest, then held one finger up to where its mouth would be, if it had one.
Shhh. It’s okay. It’ll be our secret.