Sometimes you are the flight of the birds
WHO: Zelgadis and a cockatoo
WHERE: the MAC
WHEN: Tuesday Night
WARNINGS: Screaming
WHAT: There's been a break-in!!!
WORDS: yes
Alright, so she wasn't going to be getting back into her own apartment any time soon -- not without burning a hole through the door, at any rate -- so Terra the cockatoo had very limited options. She was, first of all, starving, and second of all, much too small and light-weight to open stairwell doors. There were no windows in many of the hallways, either, so escaping the building itself seemed nigh unto impossible for her in this form. The strange dog had been a help, and good company, but they'd long since parted ways hours before, and Terra wasn't sure what to do with herself now.
Her attempt to get downstairs and out the front doors had been met with failure when she hopped into an elevator and was stuck inside without a way to press any of the buttons for more than an hour, and even then the car only moved to go up. Being cooped up for so long and hunger driving her instincts, she didn't think to stay inside for the inevitable ride down, instead racing out of the elevator with flared wings and puffed crest.
The hallways all looked the same, and all the doors closed; Terra wasn't sure where she was at all in the building. If only the stairway didn't have doors! She pecked at crumbs as she found them nestled in the carpet, stale and undistinguished in taste. But there, that was different -- one of the doors wasn't closed all the way. In that case, she could try investigating that apartment. Why not? Few people had reason to attack birds, and maybe she'd be able to find something substantial to eat.
To pry the door open Terra wedged her dark beak between the wood and its frame, letting the size of her small body moving forward to create her entrance. Her tail feathers nearly got caught, and her wings flapped and ruffled in irritation. But it was strange -- even from this far down and with these strange eyes, Terra could swear she recognized this apartment. She had definitely been here before. It wasn't hers, she was sure. But... whose was it? Was it Keith's? If that were the case, she would need to get out of here now, now, even if he wouldn't recognize her in this form. She wouldn't be able to keep herself from confronting him somehow, and having an argument with these unfamiliar vocal cords seemed like a bad idea. She didn't even know what she felt about him anymore; she didn't have that same overwhelming love that Aphrodite's ring had put into her heart, but the memory of how much he had meant to her was one she couldn't ignore, nor the hope they could maybe fix things.
But those things weren't as important now as figuring out where she was; flying the short distance from the floor to the back of one of the chairs, she made a better survey. Oh! This definitely wasn't Keith's place. He never left food out. She wasted no time hopping from the chair to the neglected take-out boxes, and took little care before knocking one over, ripping open its side rather than try to climb into the box itself. Hey, she was starving, alright? The last thing she'd had was birthday cake the night before.
WHERE: the MAC
WHEN: Tuesday Night
WARNINGS: Screaming
WHAT: There's been a break-in!!!
WORDS: yes
Alright, so she wasn't going to be getting back into her own apartment any time soon -- not without burning a hole through the door, at any rate -- so Terra the cockatoo had very limited options. She was, first of all, starving, and second of all, much too small and light-weight to open stairwell doors. There were no windows in many of the hallways, either, so escaping the building itself seemed nigh unto impossible for her in this form. The strange dog had been a help, and good company, but they'd long since parted ways hours before, and Terra wasn't sure what to do with herself now.
Her attempt to get downstairs and out the front doors had been met with failure when she hopped into an elevator and was stuck inside without a way to press any of the buttons for more than an hour, and even then the car only moved to go up. Being cooped up for so long and hunger driving her instincts, she didn't think to stay inside for the inevitable ride down, instead racing out of the elevator with flared wings and puffed crest.
The hallways all looked the same, and all the doors closed; Terra wasn't sure where she was at all in the building. If only the stairway didn't have doors! She pecked at crumbs as she found them nestled in the carpet, stale and undistinguished in taste. But there, that was different -- one of the doors wasn't closed all the way. In that case, she could try investigating that apartment. Why not? Few people had reason to attack birds, and maybe she'd be able to find something substantial to eat.
To pry the door open Terra wedged her dark beak between the wood and its frame, letting the size of her small body moving forward to create her entrance. Her tail feathers nearly got caught, and her wings flapped and ruffled in irritation. But it was strange -- even from this far down and with these strange eyes, Terra could swear she recognized this apartment. She had definitely been here before. It wasn't hers, she was sure. But... whose was it? Was it Keith's? If that were the case, she would need to get out of here now, now, even if he wouldn't recognize her in this form. She wouldn't be able to keep herself from confronting him somehow, and having an argument with these unfamiliar vocal cords seemed like a bad idea. She didn't even know what she felt about him anymore; she didn't have that same overwhelming love that Aphrodite's ring had put into her heart, but the memory of how much he had meant to her was one she couldn't ignore, nor the hope they could maybe fix things.
But those things weren't as important now as figuring out where she was; flying the short distance from the floor to the back of one of the chairs, she made a better survey. Oh! This definitely wasn't Keith's place. He never left food out. She wasted no time hopping from the chair to the neglected take-out boxes, and took little care before knocking one over, ripping open its side rather than try to climb into the box itself. Hey, she was starving, alright? The last thing she'd had was birthday cake the night before.