ArchivedLogs:A Little Bird Told Me...

A Little Bird Told Me...
Dramatis Personae Ducky, Jackson	2013-05-16 '
Location <NYC> East Village
Historically a center of counterculture, the East Village has a character all its own. Home to artists and musicians of many colours, this neighborhood is known for its punk vibe and artistic sensibilities. The birthplace of many protests, literary movements, it is home to a rather diverse community and vibrant nightlife. It's morning, bright and early, but this does not stop Jackson from being kind of interminably BOUNCY. He's just heading out of the front door of the Village Lofts, pausing when outside to tip his face up towards the sun. Gravitating towards it like a flower. He has a boxy black case resting at his hip, its strap slung diagonally over his shoulder, and is as glittery as usual. Sparkling nails, bright makeup. Black capris and chunky platform sneakers and a red t-shirt reading 'All my heroes have FBI files' around a picture of a monkey wrench. He also has coffee, a laaarge travel mug of it that he sips at as he emerges. Ducky has made her way over to the Lofts, a small flock of urban birds following her path as she does. The dappled gray and white pigeon who has been her near constant companion in the city sits on one shoulder, idly preening her hair, while a small blackbird with gleaming black oil slick colored feathers sits on her other shoulder. She has apparently been pacing out in front of the apartment building, fidgeting with a small plastic baggy containing a small colorful piece of fabric. The teen is seemingly unsure of exactly how early is too early to ring someone's doorbell in this sort of a situation. Thankfully, Jackson solves this quandry for her, and Ducky quickly hurries over to the teacher, stuttering loudly, "M... Mister Jackson. I have... um," she holds out the baggy containing the scrap of fabric to him, speaking quieter now, as though afraid she's going to be overhead, "I have information. I'm sorry it took so long, but, but the birds finally found something, or rather, they finally got back to me on it." The scrap of fabric is a ragged little piece, about 3 inches long, with bright colors, and what look like clear bubbles painted on it - the material suggests it was torn from a reusable bag. "Hi!" Jackson's greeting is chirrupy-bright, his smile equally so. "G'mornin'! You ready to -- hm?" His smile fades slightly at Ducky's greeting, though; over the tops of his large sunglasses his brows furrow in concern. "Y'aright, honey-honey, what's -- oh." He's peering at the bag, a little perplexed. "What's that?" He reaches for the baggy, taking it from Ducky to examine it with a hint of puzzlement. Ducky takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes for a moment, as though focusing on recalling something, "Ok. Last night, after we got back, I got up to the roof to see if there was anything that the birds could tell me or anything," she nods, "And apparently one of the pigeons heard from one of the crows that there was a leftover pile of groceries that someone had just dropped in an alley over in East Village. And it was in this pretty blue shopping bag that was all shiny shiny, with pretty patterns on it, so the crows were of course interested," she points at the scrap of fabric in the baggie, "And this crow followed my pigeons home, sort of, and brought that fabric to show how shiny it was. She was going to use it for nesting material, but when I talked to her, she explained more about it, and I convinced her not to use it, since it could be important, maybe. Or at least proof, ish. Kinda?" Ducky looks concerned for a moment, and she closes her eyes again, the crow on her shoulder making a squawking noise once, "She says that there was a boy, who was sort of blue and bald and looked sort of bitey with big pointy teeth, and he had a bag full of food and veggies and tasty tasty things. And he was in an alley over that way," she points in the direction without looking or opening her eyes, "But then there were men, and then there was lightening, even though it was a clear sky, and not rainy or stormy. But it was low lightening, not sky lightening, and then there was screaming and scuffling and more ligtening on the ground between the people. And then the blue boy dropped the shiny shiny bag of tasty goodies and stuff, and since he didn't have them anymore, and he was gone with the other human type people, the birds kinda went to town on it, and they really appreciated the food and..." she trails off, wincing, and forcing herself to stop the stream of consciousness babble that she had been passing along. After a long moment, Ducky opens her eyes again, looking up at Jax, "Sorry - I tried to filter it so that it made some sense, but, birds?" she offers with a shrug, the crow nipping at her ear when she says this, drawing another wince. "We can take you there. To the alley. She says it isn't that far away." Jackson quiets, at this explanation, and he spends a long stretch of silence -- just listening to Ducky, just absorbing what she says. He turns the plastic baggy over in his hand. "... this was one'a mine," he says after a pause, quiet. There's a glow around him, visible in hot-bright-white for a moment and then disappearing. "It -- it isn't far?" He looks at Ducky, looks at the crow. "Can we -- I'd appreciate if -- thank you. Lightning?" This furrows his brow. "-- Like flashes?" He's /trying/ to keep the edge of worry out of his voice but it is only middling-working. Ducky recoils ever so slightly from the flash of light from Jax, looking nervously at him once he dims again. "As the crow flies," she offers, this for once being an accurate statement, and not a smart answer, "It's about five minutes over that way. There's, um, an alleyway that he apparently cut through, and" Ducky nods, "She can lead us over there, it's really not far." She bites her lip, trying to think of how to explain or clarify the bird's description of the lightning, "Not so much flashes. Not exactly. There was a thing the men had that made zappy sparkies. Like, um, mini lightning. But little, and not from the sky. It hit the blue boy." She shakes her head and apologizes, "I'm sorry - that's kinda all I can get - birds are great for seeing stuff, but their sense of smell isn't that great. All she is adding is that it sounded zappy. Not cracklingy like lightening. It was little lightning. But, um, we can go go there, now, if you want. I didn't want to go alone, 'cause..." she trails off, and scuffles her foot, looking at the ground. "No -- no, that's good. I mean, that you didn't go alone, I wouldn't want -- /don't/ want -- if there's trouble --" Jax shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. He sips again at his coffee. "Yes. Can we? Please?" He's already stepping down away from the building. "Zappy. Sparky. That's -- I mean, there's definitely -- a thing or two that'd /make/ zaps like that and if someone was trying to --" He presses his lips together, and swallows. "Sorry," he says to Ducky, quietly. "There probably ain't much left there but I'd at least like to see. Before we head out to the school. And I -- thank you. And thank -- your friends for me, this --" His cheeks flush slightly pink, his gaze dropping to the sidewalk. "S'the first I've heard anything about them at all since they vanished. Thanks." "I'm just sorry it took so long to get answers, of any kind," she wrinkles her nose a bit, keeping pace with Jackson as they walk, "I can't command the birds. It's more of a mutual trust or bribery relationship, truth be told." She occasionally corrects their course, specifically when the shining blackbird on her shoulder nips her ear, or squawks at her. "Sorry if we end up doubling back. She's not as good with navigating on the ground as she is from the air." All told, it is about five blocks from the apartments until they get to the alleyway in question. A dark little cut through between two large buildings. "You don't gotta be sorry. It's -- it's already so much that you were even looking." Jax is quiet for the rest of the walk, a little tense, a little jittery, a restless energy that oddly actually calms once they have arrived. He slips into the alley slowly. The tension melts down into just a tired slump of his shoulders. He fingers the baggy in his hand, looking around. And around. "-- I don't really know what I was expectin'," he murmurs, half to himself. "Feels kinda surreal to --" He flushes again, deeper pink, and shakes his head. "Sorry. I -- thank you. This is good. I have friends who are -- are real good at -- /tracking/ people, I -- it's good to at least know where to bring 'em. I -- do you need anything? Need to -- do anything? Before we head out?" Ducky just stands at the end of the alley, giving Jackson room to look around, although she shifts her weight nervously and watches their surroundings. Hell, if one mutant has already vanished from this alley, what's to say another two wouldn't follow - the teen is somewhat understandably anxious. She tilts her head as she watches Jackson move through the alleyway, quietly saying, "No need to apologize. I hope your friends can help more, I hope this is at least a decent starting point, if nothing else." She is quiet, then, until Jackson asks about needing to do anything, "Uh," she thinks for a moment, "I had originally been thinking of stopping by to say bye to Horus, and let him know that I'm going back to school, since I'd talked to him, and never had a chance to stop by and say hi. But, um, it's kinda early, and I didn't want to wake anyone. 'Swhy I was just pacing outside when you came out." Ducky looks a bit flustered for a moment, "Other than that, no. I don't own much, and my little flock sort of knows where I'm going, they'll follow over the next day or so." "We can stop by the Lofts. My friends there keep strange hours. See if Horus is around. He knows where the school is, though, if he ain't about can always just bring him by to see you later in the week. He --" Jax's lips curl up, his smile tired, but warm. "He likes it there." He is heading back out of the alley but he stops at its mouth, fingers scrubbing once more through his hair. He gives it a long last look, and carefully tucks the baggy with its scrap of cloth into a pocket. "Aright." His voice has a tired note to it, too, but it bolsters back up into something cheerier as he looks at Ducky again. "Let's get you home." Ducky smiles at the idea of stopping back by the lofts, "Ok. I don't want to be a bother, but, well, he was one of the few people I actually will kinda miss getting to see in this city. There are some really grumpy people in this city." She pouts a bit, mentally cataloging the people she has met since arriving in New York. The thought of going home, an actual home, gets a cheery smile from the teen, "Home. Heh. Haven't actually thought about that in a few years now." She blushes slightly at the idea, but smiles still. "It ain't no bother. Thursday's the only day I /don't/ teach so I aint in no rush. Got a bunch of work to get done out there but no proper schedule to do it on." Jackson drops his hand to his side to rest on the bulky black bag at his hip. "Yeah," he sounds a little amused, "there's some real crankyfaces around but. Some of them are actually real sweet once you get past the grump. This city gives people a lot of reason for cranky but -- seems to give 'em a lot of reason to /be/ good people, too." His smile warms when Ducky brightens. "Can be hard to find sometimes. Especially for people like us. But -- I don't know. To me it's been the /people/ that make home. You find ones you can be yourself with and --" He shrugs a shoulder, turning to head back Lofts-wards. "Thank you for all of this. I can keep the birds searching around the city, see if there's any more information, or any other sightings and stuff," Ducky says, carefully picking the blackbird up from her shoulder, and looking it in the eyes for a long moment, as they continue to walk. She then tosses the bird into the air, gently, letting it take wing and head back around to a nearby rooftop. "Yeah. The whole home is where the heart is thing. I just, well, I'm still having to get used to being around people who don't think I'm crazy again - I've been talking mostly to birds for the last year and a half." Ducky easily keeps pace with Jackson, still smiling a bit, "I look forward to having a home someday. I think I've just had bad luck with people in the city. But," she shrugs a bit, the pigeon still perched on her shoulder rising with the motion. "I'd appreciate it. It's alright if they don't find nothin', but if they do --" Jackson glances over his shoulder back towards the alley, but then turns away from it deliberately to continue down the street. He flicks a glance to Ducky, and his tone is still warm: "Well. Could be," he says, "that your luck's gonna turn itself around."