ArchivedLogs:Worth a Try

Worth a Try
Dramatis Personae Ducky, Horus
In Absentia	2014-02-25 duckyparty
Location <XS> Playground
Set on the still-expansive grounds around the side of the school, this area is to the outdoors rather what the rec room is to the indoors. There's a large basketball court out here; a fenced-off tennis court adjacent. Further distant there are setups for other sports -- a large track, a soccer field. Closer in to the school, though, in its own large enclosure adjacent to the basketball and tennis courts, is the playground, a huge expanse of equipment set up on alternating plots of slightly squishy flooring and mulch. Centrally there is a large sprinkler-fountain, not always /on/ but it can be turned on with a push of a button; spreading out around this is the actual playground equipment, sturdy and varied. A huge dome constructed in honeycombed interlocked poles and rope netting rises hiiiigh for climbing; a large swingset holds four pairs of swings. A large roundabout in bright colours stands in one corner near a long see-saw. The huge bridge-and-tunnel castle structure at one end has many routes of entry, from poles to climb up (or slide down) to a small climbing /wall/. Monkeybars. Four different slides of varying lengths and spiraling. For the adventurous, between things to climb on and jump between and bounce across it is probably possible to skirt one end of the playground and back without touching the ground, though it might take a particularly adept feat of balance and agility. Or possibly wings. Lunch time at Xavier's has arrived with a brisk breeze that makes it difficult to believe it was almost Spring-like a few days prior, though thankfully the snow and other winter weather has held off for the time being. Outside at the playground, there is a good deal of motion on the play sets largely devoid of students for the time being. Instead it looks like something out of a strange nature documentary, with a sizable flock of birds settled in on the monkey bars, pecking around through the mulch and remaining puddles of snow - chickadees, sparrows, swallows, a handful of crows and ravens, pigeons, and even a hawk or two. The greatest concentration of birds appears to be clustered around the giant climbing dome, clinging to the ropes or perched on the bars. Ducky sits at the top of the climbing dome, balanced with her feet dangling down into the center, slowly kicking them back and forth. Dressed perhaps a bit lightly for the cold, she wears a long sleeve shirt in bright yellow, layered with a black tank top, and then an army green puffer vest over top of it, the hood of the vest occupied by the dappled gray and white pigeon so often seen with her. A pair of worn black cargo pants complete the look, along with muddied black high tops on her idly swinging feet. Judging by the small metalic lunch box balanced in her lap, she might have come out here intending to eat lunch, but that doesn't seem to have happened quite yet. Instead, the teen is glancing upwards, addressing a small chickadee that has decided her messy shock of brown-blonde hair is a perfectly reasonable place to nest for now. Over towards the basketball courts there is a trio of students approaching, ball in hand for a brisk pick-up game out in the lunchtime cold. There's a fourth trotting up to join them -- Taylor makes a very distinctively recognizable figure with his mass of tentacles. One of said tentacles, thick and strong, is currently stretched up above his head to serve as a swaying perch for yet anther bird -- or birdlike figure, anyway. << -- /after/ your basket-balls? >> Horus is asking Taylor hopefully; whatever reply the other boy gives is directed to Horus's mind alone. His feathers ruffle up, though, and there's a bit of an indignant /huff/ to his rapidly chattering mental tone as he spreads his wings to take off, leaving Taylor to join the others on the court. << -- sports I don't even know how to sports is it cheating to just fly the ball to the net wo-o-oah, you're having a whole /party/ here. >> He wings his way down to settle atop the swingset, talons clicking against the metal and wings folding at his sides. << Bird-party? Lunch-party? /Ducky/-party? >> At the sound of a familiar mental voice amidst the chatter of the birds, Ducky looks up curiously, tilting her head as she does. Several of the birds closest to her seem to mimic her curiosity, ruffling up and chirruping her greeting since she lacks feathers to do so. Recognizing Horus, if not all of the other students, she raises her hand to wave hello, the birds around her unstartled by the sudden movement. "I dunno much about sports, but it kinda might be? I dunno. Kinda not so good at them, really, no matter what kinda sports-ball it is," Ducky offers with a shrug, relaying it mentally as well, bright hazel eyes watching as Horus flies closer. "Dunno, really. S'kinda what happens a lot when I'm outside. They flock to me," she says, giggling at the partially intentional pun, "Was trying to eat my lunch, but that didn't really go so well, really." Her feet resume swinging idly as she glances around at the birds, none of which seem particularly disturbed by Horus's arrival, "So I guess it kinda turned into a Ducky-party? Maybe? You're invited too, if you want. I have cookies." There's a pleased note to her voice, and a mental image of cheery little gingerbread cookies with swirly icing designs on them. These may or may not be the majority of her intended lunch. Horus chirrups back a quiet greeting of his own, quiet-cheerful. << You found a Ducky, >> he /congratulates/ the flock of birds, more vocally than mentally although it's easy enough for Ducky to pick up on his softly twittering words. << I did, too. Kind of the best-of-all-Duckys maybe we can share her? -- oh wow cookies. >> He spreads his wings again to flutter over from swingset to dome, excusing himself apologetically as he finds a place to settle among the other birds. << I like cookies yes-please /every/-cookies well no okay I won't eat /all/ your cookies that would be rude. One cookie? /Two/ cookies? >> He's a little uncertain about this last request. << One and a half. I didn't have lunch yet I forgot. The lunch-room is very-very-crowded. At lunch-time. >> Ducky giggles, and pops open the metalic lunch box to reveal a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich largely mushed beneath as many of the gingerbread cookies, wrapped up in a large piece of parchment paper, as Ducky could sneak into her lunch box, as well as a little closed baggy of sunflower seeds crammed on top to try and hide the cookies. As Horus flies over, the flock adjusts and shifts to give him room to land, ruffling their feathers in an almost-collective shrug. A pleased little blush rises to her cheeks at the overheard comment about her. "Issok, I brought plenty to share. You can totally have two cookies. Or more, s'ok," she smiles, bouncing on her perch. She extricates the bundle of cookies, unfolding the paper and selecting one of the prettier cookies to hold out for Horus to take. << Yeah, the lunch room is kinda overwhelming and big and lotsa fullof people. >> Ducky babbles, a mouthful of cookie preventing her from talking aloud << I could go with you if you want? Or... or I think the cook can make stuff for you to take and eat elsewhere? I mean, not everyone really likes to eat inside all the time. Or can eat inside. There's a kid who has to eat outside or apparently he eats the computers. So we can ask? Maybe she'll make you a lunch box, too? >> She swallows her mouthful of cookie and nods as she babbles, an attempt to be helpful. Horus chirps a soft thanks to the birds as they make room for him, settling in comfortably and ruffling his feathers up in contentment once he is perched. He cranes his head forward, plucking the cookie out from Ducky's grip. << Eats /computers/? Huh woah that's an expensive diet. I can't even afford /one/ computer you'd have to make lots of money to eat lots-and-lots of computers my roommate makes lots of money maybe he could afford to eat computers, >> he muses. << He plays music, they give him money for that. I was going to get lunch with Taylor but then accidentally we forgot and just talked instead. >> He tips his head back as his beak crunches down on the cookie, snapping it into bits -- more than a few of which crumble and fall to the ground below, though he does manage to tip the /majority/ of the cookie back into his mouth. << Would she make me a lunch box even if I don't go here? >> he wonders first and then, quieter and a lot more uncertain comes the nervous admission: << ... soon I might go here. >> "Ok, maybe not computer, but it messes with electric stuff and things, so he tends to eat cookies out on the porch. Or apparently soup through a straw. He's nice, and I don't think he /means/ to eat the computers. Cookies taste better," Ducky babbles with a confused shrug, apparently not entirely certain what the other student can do, just parroting what she was told. Her feet continue to swing idly as she listens, nibbling on her cookie again. << Still don't have a replacement tablet? >> she asks, frowning slightly << Wish I could get one for you. I liked being able to text you when you weren't here, and I wasn't there, and I know it made things a lot easier for you. Was nice. >> Nibbling on her cookie, Ducky ponders << Dunno. She might, if you're visiting? I dunno. She's nice, and doesn't seem like she'd say /no/ to occasionally making lunch for you? >> Her babbling cuts off suddenly and she blinks at Horus, tilting her head sideways with an excited grin, her response spilling out in barely restrained babble, "Really? Like, really really? It's really nice. The teachers are all pretty nice, and there's lots of places to explore. And they really kinda care about keeping us safe. And it's good to get to learn stuff? I guess." She bounces with excitement, a not entirely quiet undercurrent of << Also also I'm here. And you'd be here. And it'd be awesome. >> hidden amongst the constant quiet bird-chatter in her mind. << Cookies taste so-way-better, >> Horus agrees happily, tipping his head down to gently nudge at Ducky's lunchbox in totally unsubtle request. << Though I did used to nibble on my tablet sometimes when I was thinking or sometimes the pen it had a special tablet-pen and it /went/ in my mouth so I could chew it all I wanted. Maybe not /all/ I wanted, >> he reconsiders, << I can bite through a lot of things if I'm not careful I never tried biting through it though that would probably have been bad. And not tasted as good as cookie? I don't have a new one yet no no new one the last one cyborg-Micah gave me but I think they cost lots-of-money. >> This is a little bit sadder as he guiltily admits: << I don't have a job. >> He fidgets a little uncomfortably where he sits, with this acknowledgment. << Shane had a job and Sebastian had a job but I don't know how to find them sometimes I would look on my tablet but I don't think most of the jobs are for birds. >> He bobs his head slowly at Ducky's excited school-chatter, though his own response to it is still mostly just nervous. << Really-like-really-really-maybe? Maybe-possibly-maybe? They say I can come and Taylor says I can come and the sharkfish say I can come but-but-but. >> He fidgets again, feet shifting restlessly where he is perched. << But many-lots-of-people and also I'm pretty-dumb. At school. >> Ducky grins at the not-so-subtle hint, and offers up another cookie for Horus. "I chew on my pens and pencils a lot. I've kinda managed to bust through the ink before, which tastes really really bad," she says and sticks her tongue out, crinkling her nose up. "Cookies definitely taste a lot better," Ducky agrees, nibbling on her own cookie. << I don't have one, either. Was gonna try and get an internship this summer, maybe kinda, if I could find a place that'll take me. I want to work with birds, and helping, and being useful, but there aren't many places that I know of that are like that. And not mean. But... well, I dunno. >> she falters, mentally, and shrugs, the birds around her rustling with little shrugs, too. << Darn technology being all expensive and crap. Not fair. >> Ducky does manage to tone it down at the nervousness from Horus, nodding. "I was kinda scared nervous when I came here at first, I mean, s'kinda one of those things that's hard to believe it's real. But they're helpful, and really really care, even if you're behind in school and stuff. They can help, and maybe even get you a new tablet?" She pauses in her babbling, quiet and thoughtful, "It's a lotta people, yeah, but there's places to go to be not-near people. Like the treehouse, and out here, and the roof, and the library, and yeah. People, but not New York amount of people." She tilts her head curiously, offering another cookie if he's finished the first one, "Maybe it might be worth a try? Don't like it, don't gotta stay?" She pulls a face at Horus calling himself dumb, shaking her head << No no. You're not dumb. Pretty, yes. Dumb, no. >> Horus snaps this cookie up more eagerly -- unfortunately also less /carefully/, which crumbles a good bit /more/ of it to the ground below. Oh well, the amassed birds will have that much more cookie to scavenge. << Internship? Where-internship? Like a zoo-place? Or vet-place? Or what's-it-called-place -- >> For a moment here there's an uncomfortable-unhappy rippling across the surface of his thoughts, his fidgeting worsening. << You know sanctuary's a bad name when they're not safe -- well I guess maybe they're safe for /birds/ okay if you find one of those, >> he cautions Ducky Very Earnestly, << make sure it's full of bird-birds and not people-birds 'kay? Because those aren't fun cages for people-birds. >> His fidgeting settles down, tongue slowly working its way out of his beak to poke at crumbs stuck to the outside. << I like tree-houses Hive says in our new-houses he'll build a tree-house and I can sit on /top/ of it and look at the river, you should come. Sit on top of it. /With/ me. Roofs are nice too. I don't -- >> He cuts off here, ducking his head lower to hide it briefly under a wing. << ... pretty-horus horus-pretty? >> This isn't exactly said /to/ Ducky so much as just mused, puzzled and a little twittery-flustered, to himself, as he flits back through a lifetime's worth of memories of being told he is a freakish-hideous boy /and/ a freakish-hideous bird. << Hmm, hmm, pretty-/Ducky/, >> this much at least he's confident of. He untucks his head to smooth a little fussily at some of his feathers, straightening them /just/-so into place. << ... worth a try, >> he finally acknowledges to Ducky directly, almost shyly reaching out to take the last offered cookie. << I like /some/ parts of here. >> Ducky nods emphatically, "Oh! Oh yes. If anything, I'd be able to make sure that that didn't happen to anyone else ever again. S'not okay. They're good for bird-birds. Not people birds. People birds are people. Don't belong in cages at all." Ducky seems to be panic babbling a bit, but she calms down, ruffling her head, much to the dismay of the chickadee that has fallen asleep in her hair, "I don't know what I'd want to do. I want to be able to work somewhere that my mutation can help birds, since I can talk to them, and explain. Avian vet might be helpful, like a rehabilitation type place. Helping them fly and be better, and decidedly not be stuck inside forever or anything like that." She muses, though internally there is an equal amount of unhappiness and grumping, echoed in the rustling of the birds around her, at the memory of seeing Horus stuck at the sanctuary. "Those people were stupid, and didn't listen. I'd not let that happen," she says quietly, certainly. She grins at the thought of getting to be on the roof, << I'd like that. I go on the roof here sometimes. I like rooftops. Can see a lot from there, it's nice. >> She sighs softly, a pang of regret at her lack of wings like dream-Ducky had. "Yes. Pretty-Horus," Ducky reaffirms, smiling shyly at Horus. The blush creeps back into her cheeks, though, at mention of 'Pretty-Ducky'. At the thought of trying the school, Ducky mentally ruffles like a happy little bird, offering a reassuring nod, holding out her hand, this time without a cookie in it though, "Worth a try."