A large gateway stood before Ross, making him feel a bit small. He was never one for such large public places, but he really needed a job so he could move out of his car. The Delphinium Resort was a nationally famous multi-million dollar resort built on an oasis of a coastline, and Ross had just the right qualifications to work there as a chef, waiter, and bartender, although he was definitely aiming to work as a bartender. No rowdy kids, more calm atmosphere, and of course, better tips.

However, Ross wasn’t only applying for the money. The Delphinium Resort was also famous for its odd demographic. The place was strangely popular among the anthro crowd, full of a variety of hybrids between humans and animals. For as long as they had been around openly, Ross wasn’t quite familiar with the species, and he would love to understand them better. He had always wondered how mammalian anthros could stand on two digitigrade legs, if shark-people had lungs, and whether or not reptilians had cold blood or not. But the species he was most curious with was the avians.

Ross always had a funny obsession with birds. He could tell if the birds perched on top of the employee’s suites where he was supposed to apply were pigeons or doves, he could name every bird that would fly by his old home during migration season, and he once nursed his old friend’s bird back to health after feeding it poisonous seeds by mistake… not to mention said friend thought the bird was a parrot when it was actually a finch, an assumption Ross was still baffled by today.

Wait, where was he again?

Ross was brought back to reality as the large glass doors behind him swung closed. He took in his surroundings quickly, finding himself in awe of the building’s modern interior design, with a wide foyer flanked by fountains, guiding him to the receptionist, a small feline - either a jaguar or a cheetah, he couldn’t tell, who was awkwardly eyeing him from afar before noticing she had caught Ross’s attention.

“Welcome to the Delphinium Resort Employee’s Quarters,” she called as Ross somewhat nervously walked up towards her desk. “What could I help you with?”

“Um… I’m here to apply for a job,” Ross replied. Almost instantly afterwards, a wave of emotions washed over the spotted cat’s face, first delight, then an odd frightened expression, then met with a slightly mischievous smile.

“How wonderful!” the cat finally cheered. “Please,” she said walking towards the right end of the desk and unlatching a small chain, opening a pathway to the back room, “Come with me.”

Anxiously, Ross followed her, relaxing himself by analyzing her anatomy. She wasn’t wearing shoes, which makes sense considering she had rather large feet-paws, and her tail poked through a hole in her short black skirt. He supposed creatures like her don’t need that different of clothing.

Before he realized, he was standing before a large red door. The feline opened it, poking her head in.

“Mr. Orlando, there’s someone here trying to apply for a job!” she shouted into the room in a surprisingly loud, commanding tone.

“What position!?” an equally loud, masculine voice shouted back.

“What position?” the anthro feline turned towards Ross with a softer tone, asking as if he didn’t hear the man ask.

“Er - bartender.” he replied quickly, without thinking.

“Bartender!” She screamed back into the room.

Ross piped in for good measure, “I-I am also open to being a chef or waiter as well!”

“Bring him in!” The man’s voice yelled, indifferent towards Ross’s other offers.

The cat calmly opened the door for Ross. He had only applied for one job before this, that being at a fast food restaurant, and the application process wasn’t quite like this. Whatever, he’ll accept nearly anything, especially if it led to him getting paid.

Ross walked into the office space cautiously, his attention drawn to a crocodile man, who he assumed was Mr. Orlando, sitting at the desk before him. “You can go back to your desk, Cassandra. There’s lots of guests you’ll need to guide to the correct building!” And with that, the spotted feline girl - Cassandra, apparently, turned and left. “Please, have a seat,” the croc said, gesturing Ross to one of two chairs in front of his desk.

“Papers, please?” Mr. Orlando requested somewhat impatiently as Ross sat down.

“Oh, right,” Ross replied, handing Mr. Orlando his resume and letters of recommendation, along with some of his old college essays just in case. For an instant, Mr. Orlando’s hand touched Ross’s. It didn’t quite feel as cold as a cold-blooded creature would be, but then again, the crocodile probably had thick skin.

Mr. Orlando read through Ross’s resume, his menacing green eyes scanning the paper quickly. An odd, nerve-wracking silence enveloped the room. Finally, the croc broke the silence with an odd question.

“Do you know how to make the Bend-Over-Shirley cocktail?”

“Yes…?”

“It’s the missus’s favorite,” Orlando justified his question before taking Ross by surprise. “You’re hired.”

“Really?” Ross questioned, his tone both excited and confused at the same time.

“No.” Mr. Orlando answered flatly, watching Ross’s optimistic face get suddenly shot down before bursting into an uproarious laughter. “Of course you’re hired! We’ve been dying for another bartender in the Azalea Bar and Lounge out by the beach!”

Ross was now completely confused rather than confused and ecstatic. Mr. Orlando suddenly interrupted Ross’s attempts to sort out his thoughts. “You can start work tomorrow. Do you have a residence?”

“N-no,” Ross answered, his head still spinning.

“Fantastic! You’ll be rooming with the other Azalea bartender. Only makes sense.” The croc scribbled on some little scrap of paper before sliding it to Ross. “Show this to Ms. Cassandra at the desk and you’ll get the keys. You’re responsible for moving your belongings though, all of our bellhops are busy in the guest hotels.”

Dazed and confused, Ross could only reply with a curt nod and a soft “thank you” before Orlando not so subtly commanded him to get out of his office. Just outside of the door was the spotted feline, leaning on the wall with a smug grin. “Congratulations,” she said, “Ninth floor, room number nine-eighteen,” she continued, tossing Ross a plastic card. “Can’t wait to see what kind of person you’ll become!”

With that odd retort, Cassandra was gone, back at her station. Ross headed out to his car, trying to contain his excitement as he gathered his small number of belongings.

…

After a good ten minutes, Ross had set all his belongings in his room. It was far better than his old cramped van he had been living in for the past eighteen months. A large spacious room with four-ish rooms - a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen-living room hybrid, with one end having all the kitchen essentials and the other with a couch and a coffee table, along with a large television set up in between the living room and the bathroom so it could be watched in both rooms. The bedroom had two large queen-sized beds, with a bathroom across from the beds and finally, a large balcony at the very end of the suite, where a rather cute assortment of flowers grew in small clay pots. Aside from the miniature garden on the balcony and the messy covers in the bed closest to the TV, the room was organized and clean, which Ross had hoped he could help maintain with his roommate.

Speaking of, Ross decided to find out who, or what, exactly was his roomie. While rooming with another human would probably be more comfortable, it would probably be more interesting living with an anthro, but anthros would probably leave more remnants of themselves in their rooms than Ross could find. No fur in the sink or shower drain, no shed skin on the couch, he could find nothing around the suite to reveal his roommate’s species. Although, he hadn’t checked the messy bed yet… but that would be really creepy.

Still, the mystery was eating away at Ross’s mind. After all, it’s not creepy if you don’t get caught!

Repeating that phrase in his head over and over again to justify himself, Ross began shifting through the covers on the bed, finding nothing. As he became discouraged, Ross suddenly felt something poke his hand. He lifted his hand to reveal…

A feather.

A shining, sapphire-blue feather, about the length of his hand from his wrist to his fingertips.

“Hello.” a deep, somewhat raspy voice spoke behind Ross.

Startled and caught in the act, Ross jumped up and whirled around, meeting his visitor in the doorway.

It was a bird. A male, anthro bird. His bulky figure almost filled the entire threshold, with long, thick arms - no, wings, which shone with a familiar blue hue. He appeared to have been wearing a white button-up dress shirt under a large, yet tight, black vest, however, both were unbuttoned and revealed a beautiful set of pecs and a wide torso covered in glistening yellow feathers. He had somewhat small hips and was supported by large blue-feathered thighs dressed in big black dress shorts, and just below were surprisingly thick calves, er, “tarsi” as they were called on birds, and three large, deadly-looking talons and one back talon on each foot. His big, muscular throat led to a well-structured face covered in blue, yellow, and green feathers and tiny snowy-white feathers around his small, suspicious eyes and dark shining beak, which took up the majority of his face, from where a human’s brow would be to his chin.

Momentarily stunned by the majestic bird in the doorway, Ross suddenly slid away from the bird’s bed and modestly paced towards the bird. “H-hi, I’m Ross Henway… I’m rooming with you now…”

The large bird’s stern expression remained unchanged, his eyes searching the human up and down, chilling him to the bone.

The bird suddenly thrust forward his left wing, startling Ross. “Indigo Taylor, but you can call me Indie,” the bird responded with a slight but charming English accent.

Ross earnestly reached out to shake the bird’s wind, but was swiftly struck with anxiety. How was he supposed to shake a hand the person doesn’t even have? “Don’t be shy,” Indie said, his stance shifting to his hip and his expression relaxing a bit into an amused smile. Ross awkwardly held Indie’s wing and gave it a modest shake. To Ross’s surprise, Ross felt a large hand hold onto his. Looking down at his wing, he saw he did have a hand… sort of. More of a convenient bundle of specifically strong moveable feathers, but it worked.

Their hands separated as a brief silence occurred, Ross breaking it in the least creepy way possible.

“Blue macaw…”

“I beg your pardon?” Indie asked, confused.

“Y-you’re a blue and gold macaw.” Ross repeated, avoiding eye contact.

After yet another momentary silence, the bird spoke up with a charmed smile, “Good to know someone knows their birds.”

Ross’s face flushed red; he felt as though he had just suddenly gained approval from a distant and stone-cold father figure he didn’t actually have. Indie noticed this and began chuckling to himself, touching his beak with his wing. “You’re awfully cute, you know.”

Ross let out a nervous laugh as Indie brushed past him towards the kitchen. He opened up the fridge and grabbed a couple glass bottles of colas, singlehandedly flicking off their caps and walking to the couch. He set both bottles on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. Before switching on the TV, he looked up at Ross, who was still standing in front of the doorway absentmindedly, and gestured him to sit with him. Ross obeyed, and Indie switched on the TV to a movie channel, and both watched. Although there was no exchange of words, Ross simply enjoyed Indie’s presence, and Indie knew that. He let himself be quietly admired, after all, it had gotten terribly lonesome in his suite all by himself.