04-03-2016, 08:03 PM
In an imitation of blushing the bird's feathers puff up haughtily, rolling proudly backwards as it drops its bill and gives a warm thanks to their return compliments, momentarily holding up its poncho to examine the faux crafted handiwork.
--Oh..."Canvas," eh?
That is a nice name!
...If a bit misleading...the bird recalls how the flooding fountain's drops of water, though briefly staining the white flooring, very quickly washed themselves out, not so much evaporating as disappearing into a void, and how all the blood from fights and the mess it's made on its own all seem mysteriously missing, cleaned up or just plain gone from existence.
The bird leans nonchalantly against the thick trunk of the nearest tree, listening and nodding and waving its hand dismissively at mister AWE Inc's explanation of Omnilium being used to make food, while the corners of its bill are forced upwards into a sweet smile at the nice, fun, simple names given to the delights that their minds had made in some recent past.
"Aye," it agrees, folding its arms over its chest, "but homegrown, kitchengone, and worldgathered foods always beat the summoned variety.
The, er, randomness and left-to-chance of it all, yknow?
Leaves the taste and texture maybe not better, least nots all the time, but more...interestin, ya hear me?"
It's going to take it then that these two don't have any such sustenance with them, and probably know of no such cafeterian cooks or kitchener's restaurants nearby.
But maybe...someone else does?
The bird coughs, rubbing its throat, which again gives off a shine as it shoves a fist deep into its mouth, rummaging around and rearranging the vocal chords -- its voice was starting to chaff it, even irritate it a little.
Time to bring back some cadence to this forest!
When its hand returns, though, in addition to having yanked out some tangled wind chimes, between the knotted wires and crooked silver cylinders, a spherical object rested.
Retrieving the orb and tossing away the blue-bloodied vocal chimes, the two began to talk amongst themselves-- oo...a party?
Maybe they DO know where to get some good munchies!
The bird just needs an invitation, is all...but how to get one?
Hmm....
Popping back up and hopping closer to them again, its face breaks out in a big grin upon receiving a new name from sir green robes.
The word crinkles in its ears like the chimes it'd just thrown out, somewhat missing the two letters trailing at its end.
"Oho, like the letter?" it squorlps, voice a bit quieter and smoother than before, though still a bit unpleasant to the ears (ey, I ain't singin' here fer no booty! go talk to those birds if ye want chordance and melody!).
"J, J, J...," it hums anyways, and through this its voice does sound pleasing, but only in this instant.
"I love it!
Do ye think the letter itself will mind tho?"
The bird pauses, thinking, and then shakes its hand, jumping once more to prop itself back on the previous tree.
"Naaah...and even if-- who cares, roight?
Haah--," it sniggersnorts, before its eyes catch sight of the sphere in its hands.
Maybe just...real quick, just in case, ei?
It might not even work, who knows.
"Oi, well--" it says, turning to them, and then away, tiptoeing around the tree, barely hiding itself behind it (its muddied tail feathers starting to stick out like a sore head).
"I'd be mighty happyjollyogeeomyyessirree if I got to go to the party with yas."
After all, what party DOESN'T have free food?
A bad one.
Terrible party.
The worst thing in existence.
That's what.
Yeah.
THINK ABOUT IT
Passing a hand over the sphere's surface, it lights up with a display of disco fever, bright spectral lights swirling around in the air above it before coalescing into a disc-shaped hologram, strange symbols parading all ways across its glowing, translucent orange surface.
The bird peers out from behind the tree, squinting at the duo.
"Well?
We ready or not?
Ye know where the party is, aye?
Where we headin?"
It waggles the sphere at them, sees its own hand and, as if suddenly spooked, ducks back behind the trunk again.
"Ready when ye are!
Jus lemme know!"
Oo...excite-excite-excite -- the bird jitters with the emotion!
While keeping one eye on them every few seconds with a swift-shuffling peek, the bird drops the sphere, which floats in midair but half a foot or so from its lungs, and starts to pass its fingers quickly through the lights and symbols.
For a quick moment it glances at its long tail feathers, and, grumbling, waves them away, barely waiting for them to shed from its body and fall to the ground before returning to...whatever it is it's doing.
--Oh..."Canvas," eh?
That is a nice name!
...If a bit misleading...the bird recalls how the flooding fountain's drops of water, though briefly staining the white flooring, very quickly washed themselves out, not so much evaporating as disappearing into a void, and how all the blood from fights and the mess it's made on its own all seem mysteriously missing, cleaned up or just plain gone from existence.
The bird leans nonchalantly against the thick trunk of the nearest tree, listening and nodding and waving its hand dismissively at mister AWE Inc's explanation of Omnilium being used to make food, while the corners of its bill are forced upwards into a sweet smile at the nice, fun, simple names given to the delights that their minds had made in some recent past.
"Aye," it agrees, folding its arms over its chest, "but homegrown, kitchengone, and worldgathered foods always beat the summoned variety.
The, er, randomness and left-to-chance of it all, yknow?
Leaves the taste and texture maybe not better, least nots all the time, but more...interestin, ya hear me?"
It's going to take it then that these two don't have any such sustenance with them, and probably know of no such cafeterian cooks or kitchener's restaurants nearby.
But maybe...someone else does?
The bird coughs, rubbing its throat, which again gives off a shine as it shoves a fist deep into its mouth, rummaging around and rearranging the vocal chords -- its voice was starting to chaff it, even irritate it a little.
Time to bring back some cadence to this forest!
When its hand returns, though, in addition to having yanked out some tangled wind chimes, between the knotted wires and crooked silver cylinders, a spherical object rested.
Retrieving the orb and tossing away the blue-bloodied vocal chimes, the two began to talk amongst themselves-- oo...a party?
Maybe they DO know where to get some good munchies!
The bird just needs an invitation, is all...but how to get one?
Hmm....
Popping back up and hopping closer to them again, its face breaks out in a big grin upon receiving a new name from sir green robes.
The word crinkles in its ears like the chimes it'd just thrown out, somewhat missing the two letters trailing at its end.
"Oho, like the letter?" it squorlps, voice a bit quieter and smoother than before, though still a bit unpleasant to the ears (ey, I ain't singin' here fer no booty! go talk to those birds if ye want chordance and melody!).
"J, J, J...," it hums anyways, and through this its voice does sound pleasing, but only in this instant.
"I love it!
Do ye think the letter itself will mind tho?"
The bird pauses, thinking, and then shakes its hand, jumping once more to prop itself back on the previous tree.
"Naaah...and even if-- who cares, roight?
Haah--," it sniggersnorts, before its eyes catch sight of the sphere in its hands.
Maybe just...real quick, just in case, ei?
It might not even work, who knows.
"Oi, well--" it says, turning to them, and then away, tiptoeing around the tree, barely hiding itself behind it (its muddied tail feathers starting to stick out like a sore head).
"I'd be mighty happyjollyogeeomyyessirree if I got to go to the party with yas."
After all, what party DOESN'T have free food?
A bad one.
Terrible party.
The worst thing in existence.
That's what.
Yeah.
THINK ABOUT IT
Passing a hand over the sphere's surface, it lights up with a display of disco fever, bright spectral lights swirling around in the air above it before coalescing into a disc-shaped hologram, strange symbols parading all ways across its glowing, translucent orange surface.
The bird peers out from behind the tree, squinting at the duo.
"Well?
We ready or not?
Ye know where the party is, aye?
Where we headin?"
It waggles the sphere at them, sees its own hand and, as if suddenly spooked, ducks back behind the trunk again.
"Ready when ye are!
Jus lemme know!"
Oo...excite-excite-excite -- the bird jitters with the emotion!
While keeping one eye on them every few seconds with a swift-shuffling peek, the bird drops the sphere, which floats in midair but half a foot or so from its lungs, and starts to pass its fingers quickly through the lights and symbols.
For a quick moment it glances at its long tail feathers, and, grumbling, waves them away, barely waiting for them to shed from its body and fall to the ground before returning to...whatever it is it's doing.