Bluebird slowly woke up in darkness, senses clicking on one by one. First, he registered that he was laying on some kind of tile. Then he realized that the only reason things were dark was because of how tightly he had screwed his eyes shut. There was a painful, muted bluish grey glow behind his eyelids, and he knew that opening his eyes would be a mistake.
Thirdly, his mouth was dry and gross, tasting vaguely of dust and blood. He didn't think he had hit his head, but he wouldn't discount it yet. Wherever he was, it didn't smell like much of anything, and the only thing he could hear was the dull thrum of his heartbeat.
Slowly, as his eyes adjusted to the light outside of them, he sat up. Reaching a hand to his face, Bluebird jolted at the cold plastic texture of it. It was almost like he was wearing a mask, but it felt like he was just touching his cheek. It was only at this realization that Bluebird realized something was really, really wrong.
Okay, recollect. His name was... Bluebird, he was... eleven, yeah, eleven felt right, and he had no clue where he was.
The walls around him were not what he expected, whatever that might be, but a light greyish-green, like pastel pea soup. A singular doorway, no door, broke up the far wall. The ceiling was exceedingly tall, with off white dome lights evenly spaced across it, and the white wooden baseboard along the edges of the room reached about a foot above his head. He moved to touch it and recoiled.
Because there, in front of Bluebird's own face, was his hand. But it didn't look like his hand. It was white in color, smooth and dollike. It didn't even look like he had fingers unless he spread them, as they seamlessly melded into a mittenlike shape when closed. Reaching back to his face with these shaky, strange limbs, Bluebird felt around his face until he found the edge of his… mask? Face? And gently pulled at it. It fell off with little resistance.
Turning it around, Bluebird found a featureless, simplistic design painted on in pastel blue, three petals in the center of the forehead and three curved lines under each eye. The mask had horn protrusions to either side, above the eyes. It weighed next to nothing in his hands, but it felt like he was holding his heart. His face felt naked without it, and his heart spiked with the thought of being seen like this, unprotected, weak-
Bluebird quickly put it back on. It stuck to his face as though it were part of it. He immediately felt better, if not a little ridiculous. What good would a mask do if he needed protected-
Something on his back twitched.
Bluebird froze, not daring to make a sound. The thing twitched again, and he vaguely realized that he felt something… extra there. Reaching a trembling hand back, he blindly felt around his back until his hand bumped into a feathered wing. The feathers themselves were tiny and fluffy, more like down than proper flight feathers.
He scrambled to his feet, breath heaving in his chest. Almost tripping on the hem of his pants, he wrenched a wing into his view. The feathers closest to his body were the same color as his strange new skin, but then abruptly changed to the same light blue as his mask design halfway down. He didn't remember having wings, he shouldn't have wings-
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He had to focus. Breathing in and out deeply until he got his bearings back, he calmed down and began thinking. This isn't where he was supposed to be, but he didn't know where he was supposed to be. Now that he was thinking about it, he was also extremely hungry and thirsty, so he had likely been there a while. So his priority was now finding food. Goal in mind, he put his hand on the left wall and set off.
He passed through several halls and rooms, each with the same tile floors, wallpaper, and lights. While the rooms were different sizes across, the ceilings still loomed well above him. The only sounds were his echoing footsteps, heavy breaths, and rapid heartbeat. He must have passed through a thousand of these rooms before he reached something new.
The lights in this section of the room were dim, shattered light bulbs flickering in cracked domes. There was an abrupt shift to blinding white carpet from the cold tile, and the hallway floor sloped gently into darkness. There was something on the pristine carpet in the darkness, only visible due to its constant movement and reflection in the dim light. Bluebird frowned, stepping forward for a better look.
Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be water, rippling and flowing like the tides of the ocean. But as he touched it, Bluebird's bare hands and feet began tingling. The tingle spread into a prickle, and then into a burn. Yanking himself away and into the light, Bluebird wiped himself down frantically with the hem of his cloak and inspected the damage. There was nothing, no wounds from what must have been some kind of acid. There was no way this stuff was safe.
At least, there was no way it was safe for him, as Bluebird heard splashing up ahead in the darkness. Gathering himself quickly, he turned on his heel and scurried to the nearest doorway, barely peeking out.
Something walked into the light. Maybe it could have been human, if it didn't tower over everything. Where the baseboard was taller than Bluebird, it was barely to this creature's waist (was it tall, Bluebird thought, or had he gotten shorter?). It was adorned in a dark blue hoodie and black sweatpants, with shoes made out of thick wood and fabric that made it even taller, and a dark tail swishing gently behind it. But the strangest thing was itself, as it was nothing more than shadows, with two glowing eyes. It was like looking into a void with two suns.
As Bluebird watched, the thing knelt to the dry tile outside his hidey hole, examining something. There were small drops of the liquid, flung about as though…
Bluebird looked down sharply. In his haste, he had made a trail straight back to himself. And he slowly looked back up, right into the eyes of the creature.
The two of them looked at each other for a long time, neither daring to move. Finally, the creature broke. It lifted a dark paw, about level with its shoulder, and… waved? Confused, Bluebird peaked out a bit more and cautiously waved back. Its eyes seemed to get brighter, and it began whispering to him in some sharp, toothy language. Odd, for a thing without a mouth.
“I… i'm sorry, I don't…" Bluebird mumbled. It looked up at him before digging through the pocket of its hoodie. It produced a small, robotic device and began speaking into it. The language changed from the toothy one to something flowing and pretty.
“No, sorry…” Bluebird trailed off again as the thing began switching through languages, looking at him for each one. Something throaty, to something like clashing pans, to something between a violin and tree bark, to bird noises, before looping back to its own voice. The thing muttered to itself before shrugging gently and just beginning to talk, making hand gestures that Bluebird wasn't exactly sure how to translate.
As this… person? Creature? Talked to him, his eyes were drawn to its own. They were… mesmerizing, glowing gently, seemingly pulsating between gold and a sweet dandelion yellow. It was like they were a pair of glowing jewels, shimmering in a shadowy treasure chest…
The creature waved a dark paw, snapping Bluebird out of his trance. It looked around, almost comically, before offering a hand to Bluebird. It almost has to kneel just to reach him.
With a bit of hesitation, Bluebird stepped forward and put his own hand in it. The creature dimmed its eyelights a bit, before-
“Hey!” picking Bluebird up off the ground in a sweep of its gangly limbs. He only struggled for a minute before stilling as the creature turned towards the dark hallway, stepping into the acid. From the sounds of it, however, the liquid never really got deeper than its shoes. Bluebird kept still as it walked, not wanting to risk a tumble into the acid below. He could only really hunker down and wait for the ride to be over.
