[Private: Owen - Walter] Why is a raven like a writing desk?

It was a moment of silence where he'd simply watch the bird play with the coin.

“I went to get something to drink because I'm working on my map.” He moved over to the paper nest in the sofa, juice box still tucked under his arm as he sat down, though his eyes never left the bird.

“How come it doesn't peck you? They always try to pick my eyes out...especially the pigeons in London, they are horrible.”

Walter had noticed the plasters on Quin's hands before, but never thought much about it, after all, he himself kept coming back from work with plasters and bandages every so often. How does one stop pecking?

"The book is the newest edition of an Atlas over Earth." The interest in maps resonated better with Walter than questioning about birds and although it was held away from him he was still vary of the raven - carefully glancing up at it every so often while talking to make sure it was happy enough with the coin. "The one you just put on the floor was a map of the London rail system and underground." there seemed to be nothing wrong to him in addressing the entire pile as a singular map.

"What I am currently working on is this one." From under the atlas he pulled out another pile of paper which he proceeded to unfold. There was lined, gridded and blank papers, with and without holes stapled and taped together - the center paper old and yellowish brown in color, the papers spreading out from it gradually turning whiter until the ones on the edge which were band new. All across the papers were line drawings and unreadable cursive writing starting with simple black on the middle paper and then exploding into what could only be described as rainbow galore. Some parts were viciously scribbled over, others had colorful post it notes with pictures drawn on them glued on top. Different color ribbons and strings connected some of the post-it's with squares and an array of exclamation marks following the cursive letters.

Walter simply smiled at Quin as if he was supposed to know what it all represented just by looking at it, completely forgetting that the only other person that could read and possibly recognize this madness as HQ at a glance was the very person who had taught him to use enough colours on his paperwork to make any office worker and cartographer cry; Maxwell.

Letting Owen look over the map Walter felt pretty pleased with himself, that was until Owen went in really close on a part that had lines of writing on it, or what the office would call scrawls and have him sent back to the explores club to sit down and re-do.

“err...it's really just meant as notes to myself so you might not be able to read most of it...” Sipping on the juice he waited for a response from the other boy.

Oh..he hadn't realized after all which was a shame...though, at least he still appeared to be interested which was something to Walter.

“It's HQ. This is the main hall entrance.” Pointing to the big square in the middle, the oldest paper, one could hear the building excitement in his voice. “I started the map soon after I came here because I kept finding so many interesting things and rooms – but sometimes I managed to forget which way I went when I found them and then I'd find something new instead. It's a very interesting place, it's like it never ends...”

“As long as I'm here.” Walter agreed. “It's fun – the best job there is.” Emptying the rest of his juice from the glass he added that “It's all kinds of fun rooms in HQ....” with a mischievous smile, like someone who tells you only half a secret.

Walter had by this point forgotten that there was a bird in the room until it gave a caw and he jerked the opposite direction, momentarily loosing his balance when what was supposed to be a supporting hand stopping the momentum hit the edge of the sofa and slipped off, landing him head first with a thump on the floor.

Stupid bird. Why did they always feel the need to do that? An annoyed sigh escaped his lips following Owen's question as he stared up into the ceiling. He did not enjoy being scared by birds being suddenly very loud and -

It's actually quite an interesting pattern in this ceiling....

Owen's white sleeves arriving in his field of view made Walter realize he had gotten distracted from answering for a moment or two too long. “I'm used to falling down.” He flashed his signature missing tooth grin and grabbed on to what he guessed was part of Owen's arm and not just the fabric itself. Those sleeves of his were so terribly long...

“....are really you sure you didn't get this stuck in a taffy puller...?”