[★ dream oo4]
It was warm. Extremely warm that day, nestled up in the blankets of his bed in the far corner. It's midday, and Oz is in a cocoon of blankets, nose buried in a random book borrowed from the library. His legs are somehow out of the mess of blankets, kicking freely in the air behind him as he reads. He's humming softly, quite at ease.
That is, until, they strike. Who are they, one may ask? Well, they.
There's a sudden chirping outside of Oz's window. He pauses, glancing up from the book with an arched brow. Curiously, he slips off the bed and goes over, head tilted to the right. There's a flock of birds circling the area, in parallel lines. White birds. Strangely, seagulls.
"Ha...they're quite noisy," he murmurs with a shake of his head. Though, he can't help but be intrigued by their formation. Rather fascinating, it is.
A thought occurs in his mind. With a playful grin, Oz hurries down the hall and into the kitchen. Without any further explanation, he proceeds to drag his 'room-mate' and best friend back down the hall and into the bedroom, frying pan still in hand. Yeah, he had been cooking, Oz. Way to interrupt.
Once there, Oz points triumphantly out the window, a grin on his face. "Isn't that neat?"
"....They're birds."
"Ah...yes, but the way they're flying." Oz pouts at his friend's lack of enthusiasm and reaches over for his Dreamberry. "Maybe someone else will find it more interesting," he murmurs. Without a second thought on the matter, he steps over to the window and points the Dreamberry in the direction of the circling birds, allowing a video to take.
But wait! THEY won't stand for that.
Out of seemingly nowhere, the cluster of birds pull back a distance, and then... and then they're forming another shape. A shape that looks oddly like a wrecking ball. Without further ado, the birds draw closer, simultaneously crashing against the side of the cottage, causing it to rock, rumble, and all that jazz.
"W-what?" Oz stutters, almost losing his footing as the Dreamberry falls from his hands.
But they aren't finished yet.
The birds draw back a second time and then ceremoneously surge forward, crashing against the cottage a second time! A third!... and a fourth! and there goes the wall of the cottage and in go the ravenous seagulls!
Cawing madly, the birds begin filling the small bedroom, attacking anything and anyone--and stealing whatever the hell Gilbert was cooking, because it looks delicious enough.
Oz flails his arms in surprise and confusion, trying to bat away the mad birds. And is that Gilbert swinging the frying pan at the birds? It certainly is! Cussing up a storm while doing it, too! And look, they're snatching the poor man's blue ribbon away! And his hat!!
The birds continue their assault on the unsuspecting fiends, angry that they had not been informed of any pictures. It was clearly in the rules that recording was against the rules! Stupid kids.
.... CAW
{ Oz continues snoring lightly in his slumber, rolling over and successfully knocking over the borrowed copy of 'Birds' onto the floor with a gentle thump. He awakes, yawns, and glances over at the glowing Dreamberry. Huh. }
That is, until, they strike. Who are they, one may ask? Well, they.
There's a sudden chirping outside of Oz's window. He pauses, glancing up from the book with an arched brow. Curiously, he slips off the bed and goes over, head tilted to the right. There's a flock of birds circling the area, in parallel lines. White birds. Strangely, seagulls.
"Ha...they're quite noisy," he murmurs with a shake of his head. Though, he can't help but be intrigued by their formation. Rather fascinating, it is.
A thought occurs in his mind. With a playful grin, Oz hurries down the hall and into the kitchen. Without any further explanation, he proceeds to drag his 'room-mate' and best friend back down the hall and into the bedroom, frying pan still in hand. Yeah, he had been cooking, Oz. Way to interrupt.
Once there, Oz points triumphantly out the window, a grin on his face. "Isn't that neat?"
"....They're birds."
"Ah...yes, but the way they're flying." Oz pouts at his friend's lack of enthusiasm and reaches over for his Dreamberry. "Maybe someone else will find it more interesting," he murmurs. Without a second thought on the matter, he steps over to the window and points the Dreamberry in the direction of the circling birds, allowing a video to take.
But wait! THEY won't stand for that.
Out of seemingly nowhere, the cluster of birds pull back a distance, and then... and then they're forming another shape. A shape that looks oddly like a wrecking ball. Without further ado, the birds draw closer, simultaneously crashing against the side of the cottage, causing it to rock, rumble, and all that jazz.
"W-what?" Oz stutters, almost losing his footing as the Dreamberry falls from his hands.
But they aren't finished yet.
The birds draw back a second time and then ceremoneously surge forward, crashing against the cottage a second time! A third!... and a fourth! and there goes the wall of the cottage and in go the ravenous seagulls!
Cawing madly, the birds begin filling the small bedroom, attacking anything and anyone--and stealing whatever the hell Gilbert was cooking, because it looks delicious enough.
Oz flails his arms in surprise and confusion, trying to bat away the mad birds. And is that Gilbert swinging the frying pan at the birds? It certainly is! Cussing up a storm while doing it, too! And look, they're snatching the poor man's blue ribbon away! And his hat!!
The birds continue their assault on the unsuspecting fiends, angry that they had not been informed of any pictures. It was clearly in the rules that recording was against the rules! Stupid kids.
.... CAW
{ Oz continues snoring lightly in his slumber, rolling over and successfully knocking over the borrowed copy of 'Birds' onto the floor with a gentle thump. He awakes, yawns, and glances over at the glowing Dreamberry. Huh. }