There are bluebirds over- Wait, those don't go here! [Mingle]

[ourearth]

Date: 11.11.2018
Characters: Open!
Note: This is intended to be a very relaxed mingle to give people a bit of a breather. It is plot-related, but a lot less dramatic than prior mingles.

---

On the 11th, something about Mossgate Council has changed yet again - but this time, it isn't nearly as disturbing and dangerous as back on Halloween.

Instead of cobwebs and skeletons, there are poppies. Red poppies and white poppies have flowered over night. They cover fields and lawns, the Greens and the forest ground, troop exercise areas over at the airfields, the gardens of the manor house, and even parts of the beach.

And up over the white cliffs of Mossgate, bluebirds flap their wings, flying around and sitting on the castle ruins, and if one stands still for a while and offers breadcrumbs, they'll come over and sit on that person's hand to have a snack, too.

They seem a bit confused, but not nearly as confused as the ornithology department at Mossgate University that can't save itself from interviews - no, they have no idea how that American species suddenly showed up in such numbers and why they're sticking to the cliffs specifically. Jane Astbury finally suggests with some exasperation that maybe they're just doing a music-themed tour of Europe, and could they please let her staff and students teach and study in peace?

Comments

OTA!

[iamnotgod]

Time continues to pass, and his psyche has proved as resilient as ever.

Today's calming activities consist of sitting outside and, as Ben and Sadie might find appropriate, drawing still life.

Of course, this entails being very still himself, and Walter's trying to keep himself to himself even as the birds have taken an interest in him.

He doesn't even have any food - but at least they're being photogenic? If any of them make a mess of his hair, however, he will die a little inside.

[vernal_miss]

Coming around a corner of the ruins, Nel is met with the sight of a man she met recently quite surrounded by the new arrivals at the cliffs. Smothering an outright laugh with one hand into a titter of giggles, she calls softly to him rather than moving close enough to scare his portion of the feathered flock, “They really like you!”

Camera already in hand, she’ll take advantage of the gathering to snap some photos with most carefully aimed to keep Walter out of the frame, and a few with him as a focal piece. It’s better to take the shots before the birds fly off and have to delete them than miss the opportunity all together. Walter’s preference being the deciding factor of course.

[iamnotgod]

Walter waits until his head is cleared from the potential for droppings before replying.

"I think I'm just a convenient post for them, really," he says. The camera doesn't set him off or anything - it's public interviews he wants to stay away from, not cute pictures to share with a small group of friends - but there's some evident tension in his posture.

Sensing an opportunity for a meta moment, however, Walter starts trying to draw Nel among the poppies; he can similarly dispose of it if she's not okay with that.

[vernal_miss]

A bird makes for quite a charming accessory, especially on the head. Maybe her first shot of Walter was more candid and relaxed, but she will find out once she checks the photos over.

With another giggle, she disagrees, "I don't think that's all. They aren't perching all over everyone!" For example, none of the blue birds are using her as a place to rest.

Unaware of Walter adding her to his sketchbook, she takes her time snapping shots of the birds in this section of the ruins and makes her way over slowly to her new friend. Once she reaches him, she looks to make certain the ground next to him is clean before she sits and calls up the photos of Walter on the menu screen. Holding the camera over to him, she offers for him to examine the shots, "What do you think? Are they keepers?"

[iamnotgod]

"Okay, the tallest available post, then," Walter clarifies - because he is the taller of the two right now.

Fortunately, the ground is clean enough for sitting (but for how long, one wonders), and Walter handles the camera with utmost care.

"... Thanks." Because she could easily have kept the camera away from him - so to make things even, he frees up one hand to give her the sketchbook with his (fairly rough, but almost complete anyway) drawing of her and the poppies.

He goes through the pictures, stopping on only two of them, before nodding and holding the camera back out to Nel.

"How do you prefer to select pictures for safekeeping? Bookmarking, just straightforwardly deleting all except your favorites, or...?"

While he's glad that he can provide input, it's still her camera.

[vernal_miss]

Taller when they are in the same position, and the one that has been immobile longest.

Handing off the camera to get his opinion, she's surprised when he passes her the sketchbook. The girl takes it carefully with both hands, not wanting to bend any corners of paper, and looks at the image with a warm, shyer smile as she feels flattered to be included with the poppies, "Aww, you drew me! That's brilliant!" She looks from the page up to where she had been standing previously to check the perspective, aware his is slightly different from their heights and the spots where they are sitting next to one another.

By the time Walter is done scanning her pictures, she has fully examined the rough sketch. Nel accepts her camera back to set in her lap, and passes the sketchbook back using two hands, "I choose them on the computer. I can see lots more detail there then I save the best and delete everything else."

[iamnotgod]

"I'm glad you like it," Walter says; there's a note of quiet pleasure in his voice.

Also embarrassment, but he's much better about taking complements now than he once was.

Art mediums now back in their proper owners' hands, Walter shifts how he's sitting, wincing as several bones pop.

"Decreasing your risks of losing something on accident, that way," he notes.

"And I prefer the second and sixth pictures, out of the set."

Though Nel might have other ideas - neither of them are ones anyone could see his smile in!

[vernal_miss]

He has been sitting a spell if he’s popping that much!

Nodding her head in agreement, she can easily recall a couple instances of pushing the wrong button on a variety of devices. Then, with some of the pictures recognized as superior, Nel looks through them herself if more slowly than Walter, “...I like those too. But they don’t have you. Can I keep the best one with you in the picture?” Asking for one photo seems reasonable.

[iamnotgod]

Walter wishes he didn't think quite so fast anymore; the time it takes for him to come to a decision is much less than what he thinks it 'should' feel like.

"All right," he says softly - and nods.

"Just don't post it anywhere public, okay? Personal favor," he adds, by way of explanation.

[vernal_miss]

"Thanks! I promise it'll stay off of social media and buried on my photos," which, given her growing gallery on the expansive flash drive she uses to store them, will not be an easy thing to find for anyone but her. Especially with her unusual filing system.

Nel turns from Walter to open her bag, and shuttering her camera to power it down, tucks it away to trade for her sketchbook and the small bag of seed she brought along. Holding up the bag of seed without yet opening her sketchbook, a well loved item with stickers adorning it, she asks, "I know the birds were close to you already, but maybe it'd be easier to draw them out in front of you. I'd like to try too."

... What sort of filing system? mO.Om

[iamnotgod]

"Thanks," he echoes, smile returning a touch more relieved.

Well, now they can match! Though his lacks the stickers, obviously.

"I wouldn't mind some tandem drawing," he agrees, flipping to a blank page to start a new etching.

('in' not 'on') Layers of folders organized by what she most associates the picture to

[vernal_miss]

Given the go ahead, she opens the package to take a small palmful of seeds in her hand. Closing it up to tuck away into her back with her other hand, Nel then looks out ahead of them to decide where to aim. With little range to consider, she tosses them straight out towards a pocket of grass not overshadowed by poppies.

Hands dusted together, she takes her pencil and eraser from the front zipper pocket and opens her sketchbook to a fresh page. At the ready, she'll watch for the birds to take notice of the seeds.

[iamnotgod]

Immediately, the birds re-congregate - free food is quite the incentive!

Walter, smothering a laugh, quickly picks a bird to focus on and starts sketching. Lines of impression and motion, first - then filling in the details on the wings, the beak...

A few birds, of course, are curious and approach Nel, though none try to hop onto her or her sketchbook!

[vernal_miss]

Such an immediate effect makes Nel smile brightly, and she goes straight to work. She is far slower about making her sketch, working on bubbling in shapes for a number of birds in different poses with a couple meant to be together and others just floating in space to focus on appearance.

As she starts to fill details to her first pose to make it look like a bird rather than a jellybean with stick limbs, she takes notice of the few birds coming closer to her. The cats at home have assisted in her development of patience, allowing the birds to come closer rather than her reaching to meet them in a way that might scare then. Instead, she slips her fingers into the seed package and sprinkles a small number out only for them with her hand kept low. Then, she acts like she’s drawing again even as she observes them instead.

[iamnotgod]

Walter's glances shifts quickly from the drawing to the birds, then over to Nel... and, once he's certain he's not going to misplace a stroke, he stops drawing altogether to watch the 'show'.

Some moments should be cherished.

The birds, meanwhile, take the initiative. Such adorably greedy fellows! Acting like they're not being watched, two of the smaller crowd hop all the way over, darting onto her hands just long enough to snatch up the seeds before heading back for shelter in numbers.

[vernal_miss]

With her forearm braced against her leg, the coming and going of the birds doesn't make her hand wobble much even as she shrugs her shoulders and fights to hold back from laughing. That didn't take long at all! Once the two braver ones take most of the seeds from her hand, she'll toss the rest out onto the ground after where they went back to blend.

Hand rubbed of the seed dust on her pant leg, she adjusts the position of her sketchbook to return to drawing only to notice it had drawn Walter's attention. With a smile, she asks, "Do you want some seeds to give them? I have enough to share."

[iamnotgod]

There is the sound of furious peeping as the birds have an impromptu seed dispute.

Walter cuts off his own snickering to answer Nel's question. "I'd be glad to, if you're willing."

He holds out a hand, using the other to keep his sketchbook close to his side.

[vernal_miss]

Nel picks up the package of seeds to pour a small pile into his outstretched hand carefully so as not to waste any in the space between them where the birds won't get them until later, "I asked, silly!" Her tone is a gentle tease with that last word, and closing up the package after, she tucks the remaining contents away into her bag to watch what Walter will do with the seeds.

[iamnotgod]

"So you did," he says, grin not really going anywhere once he's spoken.

He flicks the seeds out at the birds, a few at a time and in an arc, divided into equal angles...

Further scrambling ensues, though none try to land on Walter's head again.

"I'd hate to think someone's missing their pets in all of this," he voices suddenly.

Unless it really is just an oddly-migrated flock.

[vernal_miss]

Observing the more precise method of distribution, Nel giggles softly at the excited state it causes in the birds within range and the way that attracts a larger number over near them. After a moment of watching, she lays her sketchbook out on her lap to return to drawing the birds.

The comment gets a glance from Nel, a soft frown appearing as she considers the notion, “I hope not... And I hope the poppies weren’t taken from anyone else trying to celebrate today.” Were something to suddenly sweep away the cats in her home, no doubt her entire family would be upset with her included.

[iamnotgod]

Really, they probably shouldn't overfeed the twittering things... but then, there's no sign saying no!

"France and the Netherlands aren't calling for their flowers back, if that helps any."

Though there had been some memeposts to that effect, there hadn't been any formally filed international complaints!

"So if these are 'misplaced', they don't seem to have been stolen from anyone."

[vernal_miss]

The danger of overfeeding is low with so many about at least.

Smiling freely with the reassurance there has been no call for a return of flowers with a giggle, she nods her head. It does help.

“Do you know where the birds are supposed to be living?” she inquires. Maybe Walter knows how far they are from home.

[iamnotgod]

"Well, they're American, in the general sense," Walter answers, halting in the tossing of seeds for now to watch the birds dart about.

"Most birds follow the direction of warmer weather, if they don't already live at the equator. So heading this direction instead of 'South for the winter' is, well, rather contrary of them."

The wording provokes a smile out of him.

[vernal_miss]

Her pencil stops at the answer of America, and with a very odd expression looks up and over to Walter. The child is somewhere between confused and concerned for the birds, but also caught by a wild curiosity of how they might have crossed the Atlantic Ocean and the country to end up down in Mossgate.

“Do you think they got lost? Will they go South before they get caught by the snow?”

/insert metaphor over what the Numbered are becoming here.

[iamnotgod]

His first thought response is 'It's up in the air,' but the pun-pportunity is so terrible he throws it away immediately.

"I don't think that's how birds get lost. If their sense of direction was distorted by a storm, perhaps, but even then it couldn't have blocked their sense of the whole Atlantic..."

Well, presumably.

Walter keeps one hand stretched out towards the birds, waiting.

"They should be able to survive on their own if they still head South, though I can't say they'll have an easy time going back home."