ArchivedLogs:Adventure Time

Adventure Time
Dramatis Personae Ducky, Jim, Horus, Inès
In Absentia	2014-04-15 '
Location <XS> School Grounds
Xavier's School is situated on grounds as luxurious as the mansion itself. The tree-lined drive brings you up to the lush green sweep of front lawn and the wide front porch with its bench swing, often frequented by students studying in pleasant weather. The large oak tree in the front yard is home to a tire swing, installed long ago beneath the sturdy old treehouse. The lawn rolls out all the way down to the thin rocky pier at the edge of the glittering lake. The water stretches huge and wide off into the distance, the boathouse a small blip at its shore. Along its bank, forest stretches dense and shady to one side; to the other cliffs start to rise, high and rocky, providing trails for hiking or climbing, for the adventurous. You almost wouldn't tell from the outside, the violence and chaos that had befallen the school grounds. Iron heavy clouds loom over the mansion, dropping sporadic fat droplets down like tapping fingers against the windows and an eerie strong wind buffs mournful howls across the rooftop, sending the waters in the lake lapping, the grasses and trees thrashing. Typical spring, really. It's even vibrant! Jim spent the night out in, but far less passively that the weeks before now. The trees have taken to roaming over the witching hour, looming just outside the building now, on a side more sheltered from the wind. His posture is now upright, branches rising up from around his shoulders in a protecting thicket. A blanket of kudzu has expanded a few square yards around his parameter bristling with unlikely thorns. In the dew laden bark of his face, his eyes are /open/. He reaches up through the branches of his shoulders like he has an itch to scratch somewhere behind his head. Following the happenings in the forest the night before, Ducky had been more than just a bit out of it. But as a new day breaks on the school grounds, the student seems to have slipped away from her dorm to head outside into the damp, somewhat chill morning. Dressed in a casual mix of layers as ever, Ducky is sedately colored in black skinny jeans, a gray hooded tunic over top of a muted green long sleeve shirt. Save for the dappled gray and white pigeon nestled into the hood of her tunic, she appears to be alone as she starts to head towards the forest, though it is not long before the birds start to find her again, one by one. She doesn’t get far before stopping, and turning back to look at the newly moved tree beside the school building. Tilting her head curiously as she approaches to the edge of the thorny vines, Ducky seems confused, distracted, listening to the increasing number of excitedly twittering voices whispering to her about the moved JimTree. Perhaps that itch is coming from a pair of talons curled down in among the rain-damp branches growing up around Jim. There is one unlikely bird(?) still tucked stubbornly here through the night, warm feathers unbothered by cold and wet; telepathic teachers make it easy to check in and account for his /location/ and well-being so Horus has been allowed, at least until classes begin again, to keep his perch. At the moment he seems kind of headless, head tucked under a wing, feet curled down around a branch. Possibly asleep. Possibly stubbornly disregarding the fact that Jim has grown eyes and is not, in fact, an /actual/ tree. He’s swaying, just a little bit, side-to-side, back-and-forth, and through his mind tumbles imagery of ships bobbing on some -- oddly purplish ocean. With seamonsters that are currently glittery-gold. He’s mentally quietly singing to himself, << Kindle and char, flame and ignite, >> twitters into, << I’m rascal and scoundrel and villain and knave, >> and this dances along into, << Hey, ho, little boat, >> brighter and cheerier. As his mental imagery doesn’t so much fight the sea monsters as offer to go on adventures with them. << Gonna tear the lonely places down. >> Bob-sway-bounce. Maybe-dreaming? Maybe just dancing. The faded hard denim blue of Jim's eyes settle on Ducky, brows furrowing. Oh. /That/ one. Something shifts, a quiet rustling amongst the vines surrounding him. A narrow path carves itself out, thorns retracting in a line towards Jim, where a subtle ladder of branches arranges itself and clears a way up his FLANK. Apparently just resigned to his new role as roost. The hand crammed up amongst his branches does some idle preening, pulling loose dead dropped leaves and trailing the back of his gnarly hand down Horus' poofy bird-fluffed chest. Maybe to let him know they have company. Or maybe because... birdfluff. He jerks a serious chin towards Ducky, indicating her whole person in some form of INQUIRY. Y'allright kid. There is a decidedly distant look on Ducky’s face as she stands at the edge of Jim’s domain, swaying slowly in time to Horus’s dream music as it filters into her mind. This just serves to make her look even more unsteady on her feet while she watches Horus bobbing about in the branches. Her mind has wandered many different directions, idly thinking about the rain, the worms that will pop from the ground with the moisture, thoughts of nesting spots, wondering if the womping-willow tree will be here as a safe spot to roost, to sit; at the core, though, there is a quiet happy trill at the thought of her friend being here and safe, though she is hesitant to try to wake him. It takes several moments for her to notice the shifting vines and the clearing path, only after a pudgey little robin flutters into the new space does she react. Blinking several times in sleepy confusion, she tilts her head curiously, starting to walk along the path. Hazel-brown eyes stare up at Jim’s face as Ducky approaches, though a small pair of beady-black eyes (belonging to her pigeon) also stare at him from just to the left of Ducky’s head. “Morning,” she finally manages, voice oddly lilting and quiet, “S’noisy this morning. Y’ok mister Tree-Jim?” She tilts her head the other way, looking up at Horus, perhaps considering climbing the ladder of branches to join her friend - several sparrows light on the branches at the thought, though. << Sharks and shoes and lantern glow, >> continues Horus’s song, though this is immediately derailed by a sidetracked puzzling over how he’d even /wear/ shoes. And then a pleased musing over all the very /many/ very different styles of pretty-shiny shoes the sharktwins sport. Talltall BOOTS with shiny studs. POLISHED wingtips you can see your REFLECTION in. B lets him /peck/ at the studs. Shane does not like pecking at the wingtips. /Alas/. /Sometimes/ life is very /very/ tough. Wait where was his song. There is a familiar /voice/ now breaking into his -- dreaming? /Day/dreaming? -- so suddenly this question is directed at /Ducky/ as though she might know. He doesn’t take his head out from under his wing, though. Just /asks/ her as though she might have misplaced it: << Where is my song? >> Because he lost it, don’t you know. What line comes next he /forgot/. Fllffllf, his chestfeathers are puffing out at the hand that runs against them. Even though he’s, contrastingly, also steadfastly pretending Jim is still only-just-tree. His head tucks further beneath a wing as he also informs Ducky: << Tree moved. >> And then, because he hasn’t yet awakened enough to check: << Is the school still here did it explode? >> Jim shrugs to Ducky- a mannerism that so easily suggests some tatty coat, a button up shirt, something quintessentially human. Never mind that he is technically nude, there's plenty enough bark and moss and stray leafiness to make the point moot. He jerks a thumb towards his upper branches as though clearly she may as well just hop up. Horus' nesting place is rather well suited; ringed in a crown of thick leaves, they seal over above in a roofing canopy. Against unlikely timing of early spring and without sunlight, bad-tempered rainyday blossoms have begun to open towards the inside of the thicket, rushing through a life cycle and dropping petals (large frilly peach, small snowflake cherry) and then swelling with suggestions of fruit. Apparently, Jim's decided it's time for some fucking breakfast. He pays for the energy with the life of the Xavier front lawn. Its wholeheartedly DYING in patches. Jim's head is turned towards the mansion. Restless as a... tree can look. Like he wants to pull the window panes off with his /eyes/. Some part of Ducky’s mind perks up at the thought of shiny things, bobbing her head curiously this way and that, as though she might find something shiny out here amidst the grasses and vines. << Many songs, lots of songs. So many songs right now >> Ducky tells Horus, her mind swirling with the various calls of the birds in the area << But… but… um. >> She mentally falters, trundling through a variety of songs, lyrical and otherwise << ‘Help me search for those I know’? >> The lyrics aren’t exactly sung, mentally, lilting and unsure. “Sorta kinda okay, maybeish?” Ducky interprets the shrug out loud, moving to climb up the ladder of branches to join Horus in the neat little nesting place. A handful of birds follow her, resting in branches and on vines with chirping greetings to anyone that will listen. << School is still here. Still safe. Little singed. Student floor smells kinda like a sad barbecue. And onions. Sad barbecued onions. Bleh >> Ducky explains, crinkling her nose as she settles in beside Horus, watching the blossoms blooming and failing with curiosity. “Thank you for helping keep us safe yesterday, Mister Jim-Tree,” Ducky says, in a sort of distracted way, still watching the swell of fruit around the little nest. << Help me search for those I know, >> trills happily, sung cheerfully in Horus’s mind as he scoots sideways along his perch to tuck in kind of /damply/ against Ducky’s side. His head slowly untucks from beneath his wing, feathers ruffling out to -- admittedly get her even /more/ wet as they dislodge a nighttime accumulation of rain from them together with an accumulation of falling /petals/. Though he’s slowly collecting a few /more/ atop his head. Slooowly he tips his head back, beak curiously yawning open to collect a peachblossom into it. For safekeeping. << -- down in the dark where the waves won’t -- >> One wing bumps up against Ducky’s shoulder. << Wo-o-oah. >> Despite Ducky’s confirmation, he seems almost surprised to see the schoolbuilding still there, now that he’s poked his head out and opened his eyes. << I didn’t search for them they searched for me. >> This is a guilty confession. << Taylor gave me a /tentaclehug/ and Brett is still /veryshiny/ and Jax sent a dinner. And the sharks are. Blue. Was that an adventure? I think! -- >> Suddenly his voice is all a-/twitter/ with excitement. << I think we had an adventure. And we didn’t even have to /leave/ for it this time it came to us. >> His talons are squeezing down tighter with this burst of excitement -- or maybe it’s just to keep his perch better, because -- in a sudden burst of /courage/ (you can tell, because his mental tune has moved on to a different part of the song (<< Riding the violet current now, it’s easy to be brave! >> ) he’s seeing fit to peer. Downwards. At his curious tree-perch. /Investigate/ it. Maybe see whether the rumours about it having such oddities as /eyes/ were true. Gripping tight with his talons he is leeeeaning downwards (peachblossom still poking out of his large beak) to stare, wide-eyed, at what he might /see/ when he pokes his head inquisitively off his roost at the /rest/ of his own personal Ent. (A small new flurry of petals scatters down off his head with the downward tip of his body.) A single gnarly hand lifts up to form a pistol-bang! gesture at Ducky for her interpretation. That. He'll go with that. While the fruits swell larger and begin to ripen in the fragrant haze of flowers and peaches he continues /eyeballing/ the school in some thought. Might be slow-thought. Stupid chugging plant thought. Or maybe NOT because Horus’s movement to peer down at him earns a turn of head at a pretty reasonable speed. For a petal to fall in his EYE. He has has to wink up in defense, which indeed rather fits a PIRATEY look. He grins- alarming normal ivory human teeth! - a drear shape. And then leans forward. And begins to slowly DRAG up his roots like he's so done with them he just wants to climb up OUT of them. He's apparently decided to go for a WALK. Kids and all. The damp feathers don’t bother Ducky in the least, and she giggles lightly at the ruffling and spray of water. “Morning, Horus,” Ducky finally says when he uncurls, grinning cheerily in spite of the soggy shower of petals. << I think that was maybe an adventure. Or somehow we kinda sorta skipped over the start of the adventure and ended up in a dungeon run right away anyway. >> Ducky ponders for a moment, nodding, << Definitely adventurey, though. >> As Jim uproots himself, Ducky clings tighter to her perch, squeaking in surprise - the small flock of birds that has settled into the branches around them twitter in excitement. “Oh! More adventure?” Ducky asks, leaning forward to look at Jim, head tilted curiously, “Are we going to Isengard? I don’t think I packed enough food for that. Or any food, really.” Because of course, Jim has /never/ heard Ent jokes before. << You’re okay now, >> Horus says, secure-happy in this assessment, << and the birds /fought/ for you so maybe you levelled /up/ on this adventure? Which is maybe-maybe how adventures should /be/ -- but, >> this is a /small/ niggling regret that, in the back of his mind he’s already deciding they need to /rectify/ << we didn’t get any /loot/, do you think! do you think we need to plan /another/ adventure and, this time, this time -- >> his head is craaaning down and then -- -- wherever this thought is ending (Ducky can see it, actually, it’s ending in hoards of /shiny/ treasures, glittering /stars/ like the city had filled up with, strings of winking Christmas lights, small colorful glass fantasy-creatures that Jax has made and given him, stolen multicolored studs off of belts and chintzy plastic keychains, woven friendship bracelets and strings of tinsel and pretty collected rocks) his idea of collected Adventure Loot is abruptly veering off course by eyes and GRINNING TEETH. It draws a startled SPOOKED squawk from him, alarm clanging in his mind as suddenly there is no more BIRDboy perched in the JimTree but a flappingrustling of feathers and one very skittish Horus hovering many feet above. << DUCKYDUCKY THERE ARE EYES THERE ARE TEETH. >> The peach blossom has fallen from his beak to drop to Ducky’s head instead. << /In the tree/! >> he clarifies, in case she did not pick up on that part. Maybe his brief spurt of courage has failed. But then, timidly: << … your ride has food with you. See? >> Because there’s fruit /growing/ now. In the tree. And, reluctantly: << Yumpeach. >> Not that he’s coming any closer. In his head there are HUGE TERRIFYING CHOMPY TEETH. And a jangling-worry-concern that forces him to add (frettily) << Don’tgetchomped. >> "Eugh-," Jim rasps out. Maybe /menacingly/, who knows it's certainly throaty, stooping over the further he leans until his hands are on the ground. It's not falling so much as... crawling, easily compensated for any hanging on. Peaches and cherries- now plump and RIPE - sway and swing around Ducky while his roots extract themselves the ground with a quiet squeal of wood strain. While he sorts his shit out (something that sounds wet, like pasta noodles, squelches somewhere, and he wraps a prudent arm firmly around his stomach) he lets Ducky know /exactly/ what he thinks about her LotR reference, dropping a deadpan cherry on her head. Boo. With a final sound like 'glak-...kuh', he spits, "What /day/ is it?" His voice squeak-cracks. Like an affronted teenaged /boy/. Life is HARD. With the insides smelling decidedly distasteful, Inès makes her way outside for fresh air and freedom. Being locked inside under heavy shuttered windows and doors does tend to inspire some wandering. She also needs to stretch her legs after a long shift of helping out in the med lab. She still smells a bit like antiseptic and sterile cleaners as she pads around the campus green, getting nice and damp, but also relaxing visibly. She pauses when she sees the moving tree, laden with one of her classmates and an old friend hovering nearby. She tilts her head in confusion and pads a little closer, one hand moving to pull a cellphone inside a sealed plastic bag out of her pocket. When the tree leans over and starts to pull it's own roots out, she jogs a little closer to get a better idea of what the hell is going on. "Yo, Ducky. Horus. Treedude?" Nodding, Ducky continues crouching down among the branches, a bit unstable as Jim moves, explaining to Horus sheepishly, “Yeah, the birds did kinda fight for me. I guess. It’s kinda fuzzy, I don’t really know why or what happened or anything. I… I was scared. And then they were swarming.” She grins at the thought of all the loot, giggling a bit, “Maybe we can go on another adventure again soon. Maybe not too soon. Too soon isn’t so good, possibly. But shiny things and loot is kinda cool. Sorta maybe worth adventuring again sooner.” << Well, yeah, of course he has teeth. Also eyes >> Ducky responds to Horus, mental voice a bit confused, “I mean, I guess it makes sense. As much as anything does really, kinda.” But then Jim is moving even more, and there is now a somewhat distressing squelching squishing noise coming from the tree-man. Ducky yelps and makes a hasty retreat from the fruit filled nest that she and Horus had previously been occupying. << Ok, that’s not good, also scary, kinda scary. More scary than chompy teeth. Not good not good >> Ducky is panicking, scrambling away from Jim and his decidedly too-meaty-for-a-tree sound effects. “Um… um… Tuesday. Um. April… it’s April 15th I think, maybe. Yeah. That one,” Ducky answers, stammering and apparently a little startled, having tripped into a crouched position, birds lighting on her shoulders as she remains still. “Hi Ines,” Ducky greets, not actually looking back at the other girl, though the dappled gray pigeon does bob its head in a silent hello, looking curiously between all parties present to keep an eye on things. Horus is still fluttering overhead, agitated as Jim stubbornly /continues/ being a person and not a tree. He hasn’t quite come to terms with this development, an unhappy quiet chittering coming from him as he comes, finally, to light -- on Inès’s head, apparently choosing this as the next logical perch while Jim drops into his crouch. << Treeteeth teethtree. Treaty. Teathy. Treath. >> His beak is decidedly not made for frowning so his expression doesn’t really reflect very /much/ past a small wrinkle of forehead, but his mind is still clamoring with /where did my perch go/. He tips his head downwards. Almost /solemnly/ bonking his beak down against Inès’s nose. Tap. And then looks back up, as Ducky scrambles down. Towards the fruits still hanging in Jim’s boughs. << Ducky, >> this is almost solemn too, but has a sudden awakening background murmur of excitement again, << I think you’re wrong I think it’s time for /adventure/ again. >> Maybe a -- very /small/ adventure because his eyes are just /fixed/ on The Prize. Like he’s very certain he might be just about to get chomped right here and now as he flutters off of Inès’s head, /swoops/ in towards Jim to tweak! a peach off a branch like he has just done something very daring. At least by the time he darts away his eyes are closed (and his mind filled with thoughts of chompy teeth and huge viney kudzu /monsters/. << I got you a food! >> he is telling Ducky, though. And, << Can /I/ join your bird-army? >>, and, << Wait, are you going to be a bird-army-general? Can we take your army on adventures? Does Inès want a food too ohgod ohno ahhh. >> He’s swooped back down to land in front of Ducky so he can /present/ her the peach held in his beak with a small bow. (In his mind he is wearing very shiny armor while he does so.) "Oh god." Jim croaks, a hand clapped his eyes, "It's fucking tax day." He is having so /little/ to do with this nonsense, dragging palm down his face far enough to watch children literally /flee/ from him down on all fours. It's not that imprudent either, with ropes of vine stretched between his rough knotted limbs and flakes of bark and moss just toppling off, bloodshot eyes and now making an alarming /rattle/ in his chest while he breathes, he's pretty much a horrible Swamp Thing monster. And being beset upon BY BIRDS. Well. A bird. He just lets Horus /take/ the fruit (considering it was, y'know, probably meant for him), maybe even seems morbidly /pleased/ if the choke (laugh??) suggests anything. With an arm still pressed firmly around his abdomen, the hand curled into some narrow crevice a torso shouldn't probably have, he coughs and pressed DOGGEDLY on, "Everyone alive?" Good good. Priorities and all that. He's even straining to sit up on his haunches, the branches swaying back into place around the (flown!) nest. "Wait a few days and you can rise again on Easter," Inès replies with a sweet smile, the rest of her face contorting with the confusion of someone trying to make out what exactly going to remain on the tree being. "We can then celebrate your coming with candy. Hi, Ducky." She does move a whole lot when she sees Horus swinging in, familiar enough with this greeting to do her part. She waits until he is landed to raise a closed fist to gently stroke his wing or side while, he bonks her nose. She withdraws the limb as she feels him tense to lift off again. She takes a deep breath and takes a step forward, free of avian entanglements. "Yeah, everyone made it - well, from our side anyway. Bunch beat up and nursing wounds, but for the most part, we came out on top. Not a student injured." She smiles as she steps back, her cursory visual scan showing her nothing she can help Jim with, so she won't bother. "Did you gain any new injuries we should know about? I know the med lab had someone coming out to see you. I can go see if we can call him in again." Ducky gasps as Horus sweeps towards the fruit, the birds around her ruffling in surprise in the sudden mini-quest. She smiles and accepts the peach, grinning in amusement at the armor-Horus image - in her mind, she is dressed not entirely unlike a Disney princess, which people seem to keep comparing her to. << Thank you >> Ducky says with a bounce, reaching out to pet Horus’s beak as he delivers the peach. << Dunno about army. Maybe a watch group or something. Don’t like fighting. But you can totally be a General, too. That would be awesome >> When Jim starts to talk in actual words and phrases, Ducky is not quite so sure about eating the fruit. Perhaps a bit unsure as to if it’s fruit-fruit, or some odd meat-fruit. Watching Jim curiously, not sure what to do, looking to Ines for clarification. “Should we go get a teacher maybe? Or, um, well, yeah, teacher would probably be good. Teachers can get help,” Ducky nods emphatically, “Do you want a teacher? There are some that aren’t hurt, still.” Horus’s chest-feathers ruffle back up, pleased, now, with his successful fruit-acquisition, though he’s thoughtfully eying the remaining fruits -- hungrily, he’s been out here all night. /Hm/. Mentally he is assessing his COURAGE meter (it’s actually /there/ he has it lit up in a little purple BAR that is slowly recharging after that latest quest, right alongside his green HP meter (full!) and blue mana (totally bigger than HP, he is the first to admit he is not much of a /tank/ but MAYBE he can be a wizard. For today.) Click-click-click, his beak is absently clacking together as though testing the readiness of his quest-weapons. << We’d make, >> he agrees with a small bob of his head, << good watch-group. So many eyes. Co-Generals? WatchCommanders. Dusk says he’s in the Night’s Watch have you met Dusk he has the prettiest-of-all-wings. Watcher-on-the-walls. Shield-that-guards -- oh I forget, >> he has a sudden mental image of himself all in black feathers, Ducky beside him with a swirling black cape and enormous black shield and sword. Slowly he’s starting to edge sideways. His courage meter is still refilling, purple ticking upwards in his mind. But in the meantime, he’s skittering over. Keeping a cautious eye on Jim. Nudging Inès’s hand thoughtfully with a beak. /Poking/ hopefully at a pocket. /Someone/ mentioned Easter candy. She has attracted herself a very /hopeful/ bird. It's entirely possible Jim is not following /all/ of this conversation. He's looks a little sick, staring blankly for a moment at - nothing? - and maybe a little sick with /relief/ too, to hear no one has /died/, letting out a wheezed breath. He swallows, hand fishing around experimentally inside his… chest cavity, "No injuries." Muttered, like he's taking /inventory/ of his… body pocket, and after a moment he grits. Moves something /around/ with a sharp push and then presses his hands to either side of the split and begins to /press it/ together. Some of the bark across his face and down his chest recedes, showing human flesh (maybe a few chest hairs. Or /more/ than a few). And with a sudden clenching, the opening is pushed together and /seals/ itself with the papery-crackling sound one might assume plantlife would make grown at a very /rapid/ speed. Auagh, he kind of makes a /gaggy/ sound and brushes his hands together, /eyeballing/ that /shifty-bird/ dead on. /Daringly/. Bring it on, fluffy. Those luscious fruits just swinging there. /Begging/ to be plucked. "I needa get back to the city." He pauses. Looks down. And opens his hands to either side like COME ON, "And some fucking /clothes/." "Well. I think /I/ need a teacher now." Inès doesn't really know what to say when Jim brings up clothing. "I'll go find a teacher your size. Maybe one of them will also have a car. Can't you just grow a really big leaf to cover... you know." She is half looking away now, then down at Horus when he starts nudging her. "What? I don't have candy now. That's for Sunday. Be glad I haven't bought any. It'd all be pretty gross from the nasty smell upstairs." She starts to turn away. "I'll be back in a little while, okay? Um. Stay... Hmmm. Well, stay barky." << You can totally take him >> Ducky offers encouragingly, grinning in amusement at the shared mental images. A few birds move to settle into the fruit bearing branches at Jim's daring look, like feathery little homing beacons. << I like how your wings look. They're pretty. You'd totally rock a cape, though >> she babbles, bouncing idly from foot to foot, possibly in an attempt to keep the birds from settling in on her shoulders and arms. It's not very effective - as there is now at least two sparrows on one shoulder, and a titmouse in her hair. The mention of needing clothes, however, earns a confused snort and several rapid blinks as she head tilts, distinctly not looking at Jim, focusing instead on the birds in the higher branches. "Teacher would be good. Pants, kinda useful," she offers in agreement. Horus’s feathers ruffle up again, and he /bonks/ Inès’s hand again. Stubbornly. Just in case candy falls out. But then turns his attention back to matters at hand. << Then, >> he declares, brightly, << our army can get capes. It’ll take a while to make them all, >> his eyes are darting around the lawn and all the birds accumulated in their area, << you pick up a /lot/ of army. >> Internally he’s steeling himself. Taking stock of his CourageMeter as it finally fills back up. << Okayokay. Okayokay almost got this OKAY. >> In his mind there are chompy-teeth and kudzumonster vines, but /also/ in his mind he has /a cape/. And maybe some armor. His beak clacks again, and he spreads his wings, taking off in a sudden dart towards one particularly juicy-looking peach. His internal monologue here sounds a lot like, << Zoomzoomzoom, zoomzoomzoom. >> YOINK. With a flutter of wings there is suddenly a Horus perched on the rooftop overhanging the school’s front porch, juicy-peach in his mouth. His << zoomzoomzoom, zoomzoomzoom, >> has cheerfully continued even after landing and then, /excited-happy/: << Ducky-Ducky! /Loot/! >> It -- comes with a cheerfully triumphant round of /chirruping/. That -- sends his peach splatting down to the grass below. << … I think, >> his quiet musing is, at least, tinged mentally with the sweet flavor of peach juice licked off the inside of his beak, << there was an Aesop’s fable about this. >>