CapriciousRequiem

You close the door to the aviary. Behind it comes the loud yet gentle whistle of a huge bird sleeping. It is surrounded by many other birds drawn by your music and singing, which will by morning be hundreds of dessicated corpses being slowly swallowed whole by an insatiable starving beast of a Lusus.

You make your way nimbly across the branches to the lower level of the tree, your hive, to your room. A colourful purple and blue computer tweets constantly. Someone trying to get in touch?

You can't be bothered. Damn you for being lazy, but just NO, not now. Sorry, Zephyr. Later, you promise.

You collapse exhaustedly onto the bed of leaves and feathers collected from your Lusus. You want to sleep, but you have a strange feeling someone just asked you what your interests are.

You suppose there is no harm in summarising them to yourself, to have the answer ready for if someone happens to ask you.

You love MUSIC. SO MUCH. MUSIC IS YOUR LIFE. Well, practically. You love all music, singing, instruments, espescially YOUR VIOLIN. It was a gift delivered to you by a friend, in a bag carried by a swarm of bees. You also LIKE BIRDS, though it is hard to keep any for an extended period of time. You like to read, about almost anything, but espescially about OTHER PLANETS. You would just adore travelling to another planet. You don't care if there is no air, food or water, you are fucking going and that is final.

You enjoy moonlight, and often play music standing in a pool of silver light, while EATING PEARS. Ohdeargodyoujustlovepears. You have no idea what it is about them that makes them so engagingly delightfully wonderfully overwhelmingly diabolically scrumptious. You occaisionally try a hand at DESIGNING CLOTHES, but you have only made one good dress, ever.

Your Lusus ate it.

You really hate her sometimes.