It was a go to power for a reason, and unsurprisingly relatively common. Not a lot beat flight for escape. Fliers tended to share a tendency to retreat when cornered, which was a useful thing to keep in mind for dealing with them.
Changing into a bird was more specific. A different kind of fantasy. Becoming something else, something entirely unlike yourself, a shape not attached to the body tethering you to the earth. It could mean nothing except that Harold Finch had internalized a lot of bird jokes as a kid. It's just an idle rumination, that always wondered what that would be like.
But writing it off as meaningless defeats the point of asking, so he'll assume it means something. Not an offensive power, not a defensive one, not even a particularly useful one except for the freedom of shucking off an aging human body and taking to the air.
At least Harold is smart enough to know that it's not something he should really want. ]
I knew someone who could turn into birds.
[ Phoenixes, harpies, giant eagles with burning eyes and claws made of diamond-hard black hallucinations. Other things that could fly. A banshee, a winged bison, an elegantly rippling serpent of solid smoke. Jess had a flair for eye-catching design. And it was never really her, in all of those shapes, as her body slept in a bed somewhere else. But that's details.
Luke never stopped being jealous. He was too good to ever say anything about it, but Krouse could tell. ]
She said it was neat. [ Krouse gives Harold a small, crooked smile, his eyes opaque. ] Until she had to land.
That's one of those funny things about powers. [ Supernatural or otherwise. ] Whatever you get, you just bump into some new restriction. I'd stick to planes. At least when you're annoyed about the lack of leg room, you can blame someone else.
Although I'm going to venture a guess you don't fly a lot of coach.
no subject
It was a go to power for a reason, and unsurprisingly relatively common. Not a lot beat flight for escape. Fliers tended to share a tendency to retreat when cornered, which was a useful thing to keep in mind for dealing with them.
Changing into a bird was more specific. A different kind of fantasy. Becoming something else, something entirely unlike yourself, a shape not attached to the body tethering you to the earth. It could mean nothing except that Harold Finch had internalized a lot of bird jokes as a kid. It's just an idle rumination, that always wondered what that would be like.
But writing it off as meaningless defeats the point of asking, so he'll assume it means something. Not an offensive power, not a defensive one, not even a particularly useful one except for the freedom of shucking off an aging human body and taking to the air.
At least Harold is smart enough to know that it's not something he should really want. ]
I knew someone who could turn into birds.
[ Phoenixes, harpies, giant eagles with burning eyes and claws made of diamond-hard black hallucinations. Other things that could fly. A banshee, a winged bison, an elegantly rippling serpent of solid smoke. Jess had a flair for eye-catching design. And it was never really her, in all of those shapes, as her body slept in a bed somewhere else. But that's details.
Luke never stopped being jealous. He was too good to ever say anything about it, but Krouse could tell. ]
She said it was neat. [ Krouse gives Harold a small, crooked smile, his eyes opaque. ] Until she had to land.
That's one of those funny things about powers. [ Supernatural or otherwise. ] Whatever you get, you just bump into some new restriction. I'd stick to planes. At least when you're annoyed about the lack of leg room, you can blame someone else.
Although I'm going to venture a guess you don't fly a lot of coach.