wwiii | Spree Living Room, Sunday Afternoon

What was a rich guy to do when he was stupidly bored, making faces at the fact that his normally four-person cabin was down to two and a hedgehog, and wanted to get his hands on something to help take the edge off?

Well, the cabins were named after candy, after all. And, while Warren had never really had the chance to indulge in, say, certain brand-names of candy while growing up, there was nothing keeping him from doing so now, right?

In spades?

Look, he had no frame of reference for things like, 'that is way too much money to spend on way too much candy.'

And that was why he was carrying a case of Spree into his cabin today. He'd been inspired.

This could only end in stomach ache.

[For the cabinmate! Unless you have some reason to be in Spree!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

life_inshadow

"Absolutely nothing," Tara decided.

Even Kennedy looked like she didn't believe that.

Paying the hedgehog no heed, the pair started smearing glue on the wall and sticking on candies in a design. Tara's bit of it was less symmetrical than she wanted; she also kept eating the source material. Still, she was happy-ish with it was she stepped back to admire the spirals.

"Wh-what do you think?"

From:

wwiii

Warren had decided to keep his portion of the mural simple enough. There were a few circles here and there. Some of them were slightly more ovular than he'd intended. Some of them weren't actually any shape known in nature. But they were colorful, at least.

He looked over at Tara's design, grinning at the results and giving his feathers a pleased little ruffle as he did so.

"Very bright," he decided. "Much less drab than these walls were before we started, I think. Should we switch spots, so I can add some bubbles over there, and you can make some swirly things over here?"

From:

life_inshadow

"Sure," Tara said. "Maybe some little paisley-ish ... things. Paisley is pretty."

She was tempted to pet his feathers when he ruffled them like that. She managed not to.

From:

wwiii

"Delicious paisley," Warren mused. "It could totally catch on."

He grinned, reaching over to pick up some more candy from his pie of Spree tubes so that he could make his way on over. The unfortunate thing about his wings was that, while they were insanely flexible, his feathers weren't jointed, and so they had an unfortunate tendency to brush up against whatever was directly behind him when he bent forward.

And so, when he stood up again and felt the tug on the end of a couple of his longer feathers, he was immediately aware that something was amiss.

"... That can't be good."

From:

life_inshadow

"You're, um, you're --" Tara went over and lightly ran her hand over the spot where the feathers met the wall. "I think you're stuck."

She was flapping a bit; she had no idea how to fix this.

From:

wwiii

Warren would have been flapping a bit as well, if not for that whole 'glued to the wall' issue.

"How dry is the glue? I mean, maybe I can just kind of... peel free?"

This was sort of humiliating, actually.

From:

life_inshadow

"It's --st-st-sticky," Tara said, testing it with a fingertip. "I can pull my finger away if I only touch for a second."

She eyed him, still fluttering about. "Do we need hot water or something? Would that help?"

Mr. Moxy had slunk over to investigate.

From:

wwiii

And that was just what Warren needed. Another cat near his feathers. He picked up the candy, waved it about for a moment, and then tossed it across the room, hoping that Mr. Moxy might give chase.

"It's kids' glue, isn't it? It has to be water-soluble."

It was... like... law. Right?

From:

life_inshadow

Moxy gave Warren's lower feathers an idle tap with his paw, then scurried after the stray candy. He had to get it before that fat hedgehog, after all.

"Maybe?" Tara had no idea.

She went into the bathroom and dampened a washcloth, offering it to Warren. "Do you want to -- or, or should I ---?"

This was weird. And, in a bizarre way, intimate.

From:

wwiii

"Let's see if I can twist around that far without breaking them, first," Warren decided, holding his hand out for the washcloth. "They haven't had the greatest week so far."

Cats.

From:

life_inshadow

Tara handed him the washcloth, fumbling with it a bit, and watched with anxious eyes to see if he could reach.

From:

wwiii

Warren was going to now turn. Stretch. Reach with his arm while trying to bend his feathers as little as possible. Stretch his wings while he turned.

Something?

Anything?

One feather, damaged after a weekend of being chewed on by a kitten already, snapped clean in two. Damn. He was going to have to pull that one out later so that he could grow a new one back.

"... Maybe I could use some help, actually."

From:

life_inshadow

"Okay," Tara said, taking a deep breath. She could do this. She could do this.

She gently swiped the washcloth over a feather, trying to saturate it enough to soften the glue and peeling the individual plumes away at the speed of a snail. "Is this hurting?"

From:

wwiii

"No," Warren replied, giving her a lopsided little smile while he turned around as much as he dared. "It's kind of the same idea as a haircut, or fingernails. I can feel that there's something going on back there, but there aren't nerves in them, or anything. If they're fused to the wall, we could go so far as to cut them, painlessly, but then I'd be wingclipped for a bit."

And that was not something that he particularly wanted to do, no.

From:

life_inshadow

Tara nodded slowly. She was concentrating too hard to say much, so she just murmured "Good" as, one by one, she tried to peel the feathers away. "They're probably going to still be a little gluey, when I'm done," she offered.

From:

wwiii

"I can handle a little glue, just so long as I'm not stuck to a wall anymore," he decided, crouching down a bit to try to get as out of the way as he could manage. "It's not bad weather for a trip to the beach or anything like that, right? That would clean the rest of it off, I'm sure."

Glue in the feathers totally counted as a valid reason to subject the island to a wood-chips and corn-nuts sort of 'wet bird smell.'

From:

life_inshadow

"Nope," Tara confirmed. "It's sunny out. You'd probably dry pretty fast, too."

From:

wwiii

"And that's a good thought, too," Warren mused.

He chewed the inside of his cheek a bit, watching her work.

"Thank you," he added.

From:

life_inshadow

Tara smiled at him slightly, still working on soaking the feathers. "It's all right. I think I got most of it -- do you want to try moving?"

From:

wwiii

At her say-so, Warren nodded, slowly pulling one of his wings away from the wall, as though he was readying to fold it against his back. The feathers wanted to cling to the glue a little, yet, but they were slowly and surely peeling free, just so long as he was careful about it.

A few moments of that, and then the other wing, and he was free again. And making a point to step away from the wall before getting a good stretch, keeping his feathers fanned out behind himself so that if there did happen to be any glue left behind, they wouldn't end up fused to one another, too.

"That," he decided, "is much better. I think I owe you one, Tara."

Another one? He owed her plenty, at this rate.

From:

life_inshadow

"You already gave me all the candy I need for, like, the rest of the year," Tara said dismissively. She was just happy to see him free. "And we made art. Don't worry about it."

Stepping back, she added, "I think the feather bits add something to the mural, anyhow."

From:

wwiii

Warren took another step back for good measure, giving the mural a long, scrutinizing look.

"Sort of like a signature, huh? Warren was here." A pause. "And part of him still is. We could stick Kennedy to the wall, next, so that people know she was here, too."

Yes, he was totally kidding. He was laughing as he said that, after all. "Though I think she'd be pretty quick to get back at me for that, once she gets her thumbs back again."

From:

life_inshadow

Tara laughed. "I think you're lucky she's still spazzing on the sugar or she would have -- she would have attacked your ankles," she said. "She wouldn't' even wait to get her thumbs back."

Edited Date: 2010-07-26 05:58 pm (UTC)