Challenge #00761 - B030: What a Waste
A numidid who is the living embodiment of handsome - his feathers are perfectly aligned and gleaming, talons sharp and shiny, vibrant crest, and zygomatic arches to make everyone swoon.
He’s also a scientist. (from Amity or not)
Commence shenanigans!
Lu’iz had no idea he was handsome. He carried on in all his beliefs and allowed everyone else to be mistaken in theirs. Such was the life of a scientist.
And yet, every day, he would hear some female on the streets or public transits sigh and murmur, “What a waste…” as if his very existence was offensive to the order of things.
It plagued him ever since he passed puberty, and continued to confuse him for some years into his lonely adulthood.
Young storekeeps would coo or bob for him… right up until the moment he opened his beak and spoke like a scientist. It would be then that he heard those fated three words and the regretful sighs.
Sometimes, he received hate… as if his very existence was an aberration like none other in the universe. Lu’iz had very little idea how he had managed to capture their ire. He was, according to them, deceptive and dishonest. Trying to trap honest females in a sordid relationship with a -ugh- scientist.
He had given up trying to explain that he wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort when T’reka the Mad’s transmissions began from Toxic Island. He began avoiding going out in public, too. At least until the equally insane humans’ views began to infect the general populace.
His neighbour, Ii’ree was the first to talk to him. Nervous and clearly afraid of anyone seeing her at it, she asked, “Why did you go into Science? You could have easily been an actor. And far more acceptable.”
“Acting is the art of lies,” he answered honestly. “I have a far better relationship with the truth.”
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“None at all. Everyone keeps calling me a waste. Or a liar. I… I don’t like that.”
Someone came through the hall, cutting off all opportunities to speak further.
Lu’iz thought nothing of it for the following months, until she found him calibrating a telescope on the roof of their shared domicile. It was late afternoon and he was checking the orbit of the local gas giant.
“You’ll burn your beautiful eyes out,” she cautioned. Ii’ree was gathering her laundry from the rooftop clothing lines.
“All is well,” he assured, “I am not looking at the sun. I’m observing the nearby planets.”
“In daylight?” she scoffed. “There’s nothing up there.”
“We see the moon, do we not? There is more to see if one knows how to look. "I have counted four moons around Stripy Titan already.”
Ii’ree looked up at the boundless blue. “There is nothing to see but the air…”
“Then come and look closer. I promise you won’t catch Science Germs.”
She put her basket down and hopped up to his perch. Peered skeptically down the eyepiece. And then Ii’ree squawked and leaped backwards. “Impossible!”
“Deep breaths,” he soothed. “Impossible is another way of saying ‘don’t look’. The universe continues to work without our observation. The blue Stripy Titan is proof.”
“…but… but… How?”
“It’s always there. Night just allows us to see it better. And I counted the moons by the shadows they cast. It’s quite fascinating.”
“It’s terrifying,” breathed Ii’ree.
“Why?” he asked. “How could it hurt you?”
Ii’ree had no answer. But for the rest of her life - including the passage of time when it was legal to be his wife - she would take the time to look at the sky in wonder.
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