ArchivedLogs:Birds of a Feather

Birds of a Feather
Dramatis Personae Micah, Alex	28 February 2015 '
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Treehaus - Lower East Side
A spiral of sturdy slatted wooden stairs winds up the trunk of an enormous oak, leading the way up to this treehouse positioned between a pair of trees at one side of the Commons yard, abutting the river. It's clear enough upon ascending that this is no ordinary treehouse, built sturdy-strong and with a polished finish that would rival most /regular/ residences. Spanning the distance between the pair of oaks, the treehouse is a long one-story building, equipped with both plumbing and electricity. The stairs lead up onto a wraparound balcony that projects out at one side to overlook the East River rushing by below. The doorway inside leads to a furnished sitting room, long low futon-couches on the pale wood floors, walls painted in leafy shades of green, exposed-beam ceilings that seem to have worked some of the actual branches of the tree into the curvature of the roof. The front room is bright and airy, large windows looking out on the Commons grounds and the river outside. Recessed lanterns in the wall give the room a warm glow, come nighttimes, and in the center of the room amid a stone-tiled patch of flooring there is a squat glass-encased gas fireplace providing warmth in winter. Off to one side of the room there is an elevated loft up nearer the ceiling, accessible by ladder and furnished with pillows and plush futon mattress and lots of blankets. The adjoining room is decorated in watery river-blues instead of leaf-greens; in here there's a small kitchenette to one side with sink and stove and toaster oven and counter space, cabinets on the walls. A long dining table in this room seats eight; by the windows, plenty of cushioning sits in the wide window-seats. Off in the very back, a tiny half-bathroom holds a sink and toilet. No stove in here; the wintertime tends to find this room much chillier, but there's generally plenty of warm blankets lying around the house. The Treehaus is a more than pleasant option when looking for quiet places to work on the weekend. Though it does take a cold walk through the outdoors during this time of year, it has a /fireplace/ as a reward at the other end. Micah's crutches and winter gear are piled up around the coat rack near the door, leaving him stripped down to a Batsignal hoodie, black tee (with a reproduction parchment page full of sketches of Toothless and prosthetic designs on the front), fawn henley, patchy jeans, and soot sprite slippers. The muss of the redhead's hair implies that he has likely fussed his fingers through it often enough as he works, which has probably been going on for some time. He has taken over one of the futons entirely, along with the table next to it, laptop and tablet both open and running programs that seem to consist of a lot of numbers and coloured dots and lines that move when certain buttons are pressed. The appearance of a curious bird in the window is likely not a rare phenomenon, though they are more likely pigeons or sparrows, rather than the dark black bird with a ruffled feathery front that appears at the window of the treehouse, claws gripping the sill with taloned feet. Its head tilts back and forth, pitch eyes examining Micah, the tablet, the computer, the fireplace, each getting attention in brief spurts of tilt and turn. The raven - for it is a raven - steps along the sill, adjusting its position and craning its neck for a better view. {Quork?} Hop-hop goes the raven on the sill, spreading its wings for balance and peering closer at Micah through the glass. Tap-tap goes the beak against the glass. {Cr-r-uck!} Micah is rather oblivious to all the goings-on outside until the tapping. He startle-jumps, just a little, eyes drawn to the window. "Huh. Big crow..." He sets the tablet down by the laptop on the table, stretching a bit before moving closer to the window. The creakier call the bird gives changes his mind, head shaking. "Mmn, no. Raven. S'the glass shiny, fella? Apologies, it's stuck t'the frame. Y'can't have it." The raven hops back and forth along the sill, tilting its head from side to side and bobbing slightly as it follows Micah with its eyes. {Rrt-rrt, squeak-trill} A loud set of flapping, and another raven smoothly lands next to it - without the first flinching at all. {Squeak-trill}, the ravens chirp in harmony with each other, two sets of eyes examining Micah from different angles. “Raven/s/,” Micah continues to correct his analysis, watching the additional bird come to the window. His eyes narrow at the study, the unison of the birds. “Ducky?” The bird-ability-possessing girl /could/ be sending birds if something were wrong. Brows dipping toward one another in concern, he finally decides to unlock the window and open it partway. “What's goin' on?” {Quork!} The ravens chirp happily at Micah as they hop over the ledge and into the room. One of them spreads its wings and flaps messily over to the air, getting close to the glass-covered fire and basking in the heat. The other one stays where it was, on the warmer side of the window-sill, looking up at Micah. Its head tilts to the side, as if considering. {Ping-ping! Pew-pew!} These are more like video-game sounds than anything else. "Micah!" The sound is a bit distorted, to be sure, but the word is distinguishable nonetheless, followed by a much more bird-like happy-sounding {quork!} Micah shivers visibly at the blast of cold air that accompanies the birds through the open window. “Guess y'all can let me know when y'want back out...” He pulls the window closed behind them, deciding it is too cold to leave open even if there are birds inside. “I'd offer a...somethin'. Don't know as ravens take tea an' cookies.” His fingers rake through his hair as his head shakes, perhaps joking at himself more than anything in this situation. Then the one raven starts in with the odd sounds and the /talking/. “Ohgosh. Ducky done taught y'all how t'talk now? What's goin' on? S'she in trouble?” {Quork?} This question is enough to rouse the attention of the other bird from its basking and blink at Micah. The two of them share a look for a moment and then the one near Micah hops down onto the floor and over to the tablet. It looks down at the tablet, distracted for a moment by the squiggly lines - before looking back up at Micah. {Quork!}, it commands. "Um. Apologies, guys, /I/ don't speak Raven." Micah's lips quirk over to one side, watching the ongoing bird-antics. "D'you...I can open up a drawin' app. Don't guess y'all can do text-to-speech like Horus." Half-chuckling at himself, he picks up the tablet and closes the current program, moving to blank-page drawing application instead. Then he digs through his messenger bag, coming up with a TARDIS-blue stylus. "You, um...prob'ly are gonna need one of these. Since y'can't draw with fingers." Turning the tablet to the bird, he scribbles on the screen with the stylus, then blanks it before setting both tablet and stylus back on the table. "{Horus?}" The birds glance at each other again before the closer bird picks up the stylus and begins to draw on the screen with the tip. It is slow-going - a movement of the head, lift, peer at it, dip back down - but it is steady. When the bird steps back a minute later, it isn't words that he's written - it's an outline of a sketch. A figure sitting in front of a computer screen, with more computers in the background. An outline version of a much more detailed drawing made of Flicker at the bat cave. The raven trills once and then dips its head to scribble a signature in the bottom right corner - a messy looping thing, with at least one x in it. Maybe a t before it? "Horus, right. He's another friend of Ducky's? Looks like a big bird, but he's actually a human-boy. Y'might've met 'im b'fore if y'all've been hangin' 'round with Ducky. Um...he can't speak, neither, so's I helped 'im t'use computers like this." Micah just keeps rambling on for lack of a better plan, having no idea how much the ravens can understand. His eyes narrow again, looking at the screen. "The Bat Cave? S'Ducky need someone t'go there?" The redhead's tone has grown truly puzzled. "That was...Flicker's tournament." The bird gives Micah a look which transcends species boundaries - the /look/. It picks up the stylus again and underlines the signature in the corner. It looks up at Micah, and then underlines the signature again. The bird near the fireplace lets out an argumentative-sounding {chrrrk}, and the closer bird underlines the signature again. It drops the stylus and looks up at Micah, head tilting left, then right. Micah sighs at the look. “I'm tryin', guys...” The underlining does draw his attention to the squiggle in the corner that he had largely overlooked before. “There was a kid doin' drawin's there, Alex?” He'll keep taking stabs at this, at least. That squiggle /could/ be an Alex. "{A-ex!}" The raven lets out several loud caws, and as the other one settles back down, the bird nearer to Micah leaps into the air, flapping a quick circle around the room before landing gently on Micah's shoulder. {Quooork!} Its head bobs up and down, wings slightly spread out for balance on the man's shoulder - though one wing brushes gently against the side of Micah's face for a moment. Another raven appears in the window, looking in. Peeeer. “Okay, seems like I struck on /somethin'/, at least. S'Alex alright?” Micah just watches the birds, flying and bobbing and...landing on him. “Ohgosh, I got shoulder-raven.” And there's another at the window. “You guys plannin' a party or somethin'?” Again lacking a better plan, the young man returns to the window to open it for the new arrival. The raven stays balanced on Micah's shoulder as he walks over to the windowsill. {Crrr-k} It is quieter, now, perched near Micah's ear. The newest bird examines Micah for a moment before hopping down and onto the floor - just as another two flit in from below the tree. All three of the newcomers give Micah a once-over and hop their way over to the fireplace. "{Two}," adds the shoulder-raven, in a gruff imitation of speech. Micah looks a bit dumbfound at the growing congregation of ravens. Once the latest bunch have settled themselves, he closes the window against the cold once more. "Decidedly more than two. Of y'all, anyhow. I'm...I'm really not sure what you're wantin'. D'you need me t'do somethin'?" Micah's raven chatters, a laughing sound ended by a clacking of its beak. It nudges at him, indicating the window. Sure enough, another two birds arrive a few moments later, dragging a small bundle of -- clothing, it seems, tied in a neat little cube. "A-ex,} it explains, gently. {Quork.} Duh. “For goodness sake. Two /more/, I guess y'meant.” Again, Micah makes his way over to the window, opening it for the latest pair and their bundle. “Right. Alex. I got /that/ much...” As the other ravens enter, Micah's raven quorks and all of the ravens stand up in a uniform motion and trot into the other room in a single file line - except for the last two ravens, who break ranks to take turns shoving the bundle of clothing along the floor into the other room. One of them fixes Micah with a stern look and a commanding {quork} before it vanishes around the corner. A quiet rustle of feathers from the other room is followed by some muted crunching, grinding sounds - like bones snapping - and then the rustle of fabric. A moment later, Alex steps around the corner, a shy smile on his face as he raises a hand to wave, faintly. "Alex. Hi." The hoodie he is wearing is clearly the one that the birds were carrying, tattered and with several claw-marks in the fabric. The pants are blue jeans in slightly better shape than the hoodie is - denim, apparently, fares better with claws. Once more, the window gets shoved closed against the icy wind outside. Micah turns, watching the ravens marching and dragging. At the command, one eyebrow quirks upward. “Right. I guess...I'll wait here.” All of the uncomfortable sounds coming from the other room make him doubt this decision, moving closer and closer to the doorway. But then there is a sudden Alex. “Oh! Oh/gosh/. Alex. Um, hi.” "Hi." Alex's cheeks blush a little bit, ducking his head slightly and pulling up his hood against the cold - and also, perhaps, to hide the feathery-not-hair that covers the top of his head. "Sorry about that - I was looking for... Horus, I guess? And I recognized you, so I dropped by. If I'm interrupting, I can go," the teenager offers, hesitantly. "Oh...no. I was workin', but it's a Saturday so stuff ain't exac'ly urgent t'be done this minute." Micah gestures at the computers with a dismissive wave. "You a friend of his?" There is the /slightest/ touch of incredulity to the question. Horus doesn't exactly turn up with new people very often. "No, not really," Alex says with a faint smile. "We've never met. But I've seen him, flying about, and I managed to follow him to around here. Didn't see where he went, though, and I can't get into the buildings. I was looking to see if I could find him on the grounds, but -- I found you instead." He shrugs his shoulders, an awkward movement. "Didn't even know his name until you mentioned it." “Oh,” Micah quiets for a moment, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. “Horus is kinda...real shy? I'm not sure how well he'd take havin' strangers show up at 'is door. Kinda doubt he'd even open it. /Maybe/ a dif'rent story for birds. But if the birds leave an' then there's a person? Problematic, again.” His teeth find the inside of his cheek, gnawing at it. “I could maybe tell 'im you'd like t'meet 'im? Give 'im a message. If there's a way he can get back t'you.” Alex tilts his head to one side in a distinctly birdlike manner as he studies Micah, contemplating this. "I'm as much a raven as a human, these days. But... I understand. I know the feeling." The teenager hesitates for a second before he nods. "Yeah, if you could tell him that I'd love to talk to him, that'd be awesome. I've been looking forward to it since I first saw him in the sky with me. He can text me? I'll give you my number." “Yeah. Lotsa folks got reason t'be hesitant with new people.” Micah nods, pulling out his phone to store the number in. “Sure thing. I can't promise he'll answer, but I'll tell 'im, at least. I warn you, if he /does/ get t'textin' with you, it can be pretty non-stop.” This last is offered with a warm, lopsided grin. "That's fine with me. I don't have the fingers to text a lot of the time, so he may have to wait for the response. In this weather, I prefer something with feathers." Alex returns the smile with one of his own, equal parts shy and friendly. "So, one way or the other." “Don't blame y'none for that. This weather ain't fit for nothin' but polar bears.” Despite being inside and warm with the fire going, Micah gives another shiver. He enters the number into his phone and slides the phone back into his pocket. “So, I mentioned tea an' cookies an' not bein' sure if ravens'd want those. Pretty sure teenagers do, though. Let’s see what’s in the kitchen.”