blue feathers. green feathers. red (open)

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Screaming Kittens
Seam Resident

7 POSTS

last seen Oct 5, 2014 16:06:38 GMT -5

blue feathers. green feathers. red (open) Sept 25, 2014 17:51:42 GMT -5

Post by Screaming Kittens on Sept 25, 2014 17:51:42 GMT -5

Cobalt blue irises flashed with annoyance as a young blue, gray, and white bird twittered cheerfully on his head. A twitch of long, artistic fingers roughed from working with wood. A frown, but a few small twitches of lips marred his face. The bird continued to sing rather cheerfully, while the person beneath the bird looked vaguely amused, annoyed, and a bit frustrated at the same time.

" Harbinger. " A deep voice, scratchy from the lack of use, drawled accusingly. " What- did you do to my- No- Don't you d- " It was too late, the bird had released. A small stench of urine filled his nose, and the guy now looked frustrated beyond compare. " YOU BLOODY BIRD! " A high pitched voice of overall frustration bellowed around the room, probably ringing right outside. If people were looking in his direction, the guy didn't really care.

Harbinger seemed to say, But Vale... Isn't your head a nest? The said guy- Vale- started to chuckle slightly. " Now I have to wash you silly bird. " While washing up, Harbinger looked distinctly pleased with himself as he preened his feathers. Vale watched in amusement as he dried his hair with a soft cotton towel he had made himself from scratch. The woods they lived in was full of cotton weeds, and no one seemed to notice they were there.

A small bell rang through Vale's little home, and the nineteen year old perked up a bit. He hadn't had a customer for awhile. " Hello!~ " he called cheerfully. " Welcome to my shop. I'll be out in a bit. " Harbinger tweeted curiously, and Vale smiled fondly, stroking a wing while walking out. " Now be good Harbinger. Don't break anything. "

All he received was a mischievous look in return.

arx.
Retired Staff

2,445 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 6, 2024 16:28:38 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

blue feathers. green feathers. red (open) Sept 26, 2014 23:40:17 GMT -5

Post by arx. on Sept 26, 2014 23:40:17 GMT -5

My head was aching. Mother had stolen something again, her kleptomania getting the best of her for the fifth time this week. I needed to watch her more closely. (~~I needed to do everything right, fix everything, it was my fault she was like this, mine.~~)

My head is still aching when I have to stop myself in the middle of the woods and talk myself out of turning around. I can't---Did I lock the door? The thing is I know I did, and I know I did it four times, checked the look and twisted the door know four times just like I always do ... But what if I didn't? What if, what if---No! Everything is fine. No is getting the house. Not again.

I take a deep breath and force my feet to step - one after the other, count the steps, don't step on the twigs on the ground - and grip the daintily carved piece of wood in my hand to keep my head from spinning. Every time I ignore my tendencies I feel sick. But this has to get done, i have to return this because that is my job. Return the things my mother steals. Simple.

My hands, wrapped in bandages from my obsessive bout of wood splitting from a few days ago, tap lightly on the door and after four twists of the knob, I enter, a little bell tingling as I step in. "Hello!" A voice calls cheerfully from somewhere in the back of the little shop and I smile despite my discomfort. I set the wood carving down on a nearby counter quickly, taking (1,2,3,4,5,6,7 - yes) steps into the place, unbuttoning and re-buttoning and finally unbuttoning the buttons on my coat, whispering the numbers to myself. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Eight buttons." (Hopefully, this kid isn't back to watch me yet he will know I am insane ...)

"Hi, uh," I stumble on my words as my hand twitches to clean everything.

"I was just---here to look around. Quaint place you got here." I say it with a smile, because it really is a beautiful place filled with beautiful work, but I still can't help myself - I have to clean. I move a few of the carved trinkets around, straightening them out, picking up a few stray feathers that I find and shoving them in my pockets.

C l e m e n t i n a O g d e n

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

Screaming Kittens
Seam Resident

7 POSTS

last seen Oct 5, 2014 16:06:38 GMT -5

blue feathers. green feathers. red (open) Sept 27, 2014 11:39:32 GMT -5

Post by Screaming Kittens on Sept 27, 2014 11:39:32 GMT -5

Vale batted a feather from his head, smiling sheepishly as he spotted a girl a little younger than him enter his tiny home. " Welcome to Vale's Woodstock, " the nineteen year old ran his fingers through his hair nervously. The girl was kind of pretty, with a mess of chocolatey curls and warm brown eyes. Slightly confused, the young man glanced at her again. Eyes narrowed ever so slightly, Vale studied the girl.

A sudden crash in the room behind Vale made the blonde-brown haired guy jump ever so slightly. God dangit! That blasted bird! Vale slowly breathed through his nose, taking a few deep breaths. If Harbinger ever so much broke something, that white bird would pay. " Thank you, miss. " he said quietly, one finger running along his long scar habitually. Unfortunately, the girl's soft brown curls had him relive the moment he was attacked if not for a few moments.

" My carvings aren't much, but if you want to look around you can. " Vale murmured. " The carvings are a couple dollars a piece, but there's a sale going on. Buy one get two free. The larger carvings like the plates and silverware are five dollars, but I'm knocking off three dollars for the day. Um.. " Vale looked around. " The heavier stuff, like pots, vases, they're ten dollars. Well, it depends on the amount if you want a customized carving. That's about it. " He was rambling.

The nineteen year old glanced around out of habit, eyeing his windows and door warily. He had made a customized alarm system in case someone broke the window or knocked his door down. If you looked hard enough, you would see a couple large blocks of wood on the ceiling, connected to a few more wooden pieces that, at the time, held a lot of purpose. He forgot what the purposes were, but the basic shenanigan was that the wood would hopefully drop on the intruder and knock them out.

...You could say he was that paranoid.

" If you need help call for Vale. " he said softly, almost shyly. He didn't normally talk to people. If he had to speak, it was either he was listing off the sales and prices, or he had to tell people if they needed help just call him.