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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 16, 2015 14:46:38 GMT -8
"I like this white though..." He chuckled without showing any of his amusement on his face. He stared absentmindedly at his own clothes and hands for a second before Salvia took his attention once again.
"Some are birds." He said, shuffling his sheets into a neater stack, albeit making it a little worse before they straightened out. "Some are papercuts. Some are other things."
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 16, 2015 15:17:26 GMT -8
[Salvia returned with extra papers in her hand, extending them towards the bird boy. Curious concern raised an eyebrow at him.] "Other things?" [Don't say he's a masochist or has a fetish for scars or something . . .]
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 16, 2015 15:22:59 GMT -8
He took the extra sheets and piled it messily on top of his neat stack. He saw Salvia looked a little confused.
"I'm clumsy." He explained, before going back to fix his sheets.
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 16, 2015 15:50:05 GMT -8
[Okie-dokie! That explained several things and yet nothing at all. Salvia shrugged and didn't press on the subject.] "You need to staple those? I'm heading to the radio office to put these together. You can come along if you like."
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 16, 2015 15:59:56 GMT -8
"Staples would be good." He knew how a stray bird sometimes would snatch them away. They didn't need that happening. He stood next to her quietly and obediently, waiting for her to collect everything and head out to the radio room.
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 16, 2015 16:25:57 GMT -8
[Salvia tucked the papers under her arm as safely as she could. Maaaaybe a manila folder would be more appropriate. If they even have anymore.] "Got everything? I'll assume you did." [She gestured her head toward the direction they were heading and started walking.]
[Awkward silence might have accompanied the two after some time of walking, or so the red-clad Apprentice felt. The boy's quiet, soft-spoken nature was not something she was used to. Most of the time, she found herself surrounded by loud, outgoing, frank, or at least openly awkward folks. Half the time, she did wish her peers would be less crazy and quieter. Was that wish granted with this kid?]
[Because if that's the case, this scenario was . . . actually more perturbing than she expected.]
"So, um. How's that bird business working out for ya? You've been working there long?"
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 16, 2015 16:56:45 GMT -8
He followed her. He enjoyed the silence between them. Owen didn't mind talking, but he also equally liked being quiet. Not a forceful quiet, but voluntary silence.
"I've been with the birds since I died." he said nonchalantly. He didn't care or know or care to know if Salvia was sensitive about that topic. Quite a few people he'd come to know avoided it like the plague, some were open about it. He was open and he would be until someone told him otherwise. "I died a long time ago." His second comment was aimed less at Salvia and perhaps more to himself. Some odd musing to himself.
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 16, 2015 17:32:30 GMT -8
"Care to share when that was? Uh, your death thing, I mean." [For many folks, Salvia would've been considered still young for an Apprentice, having died past midway the 20th century. In fact, she was practically the baby of her team. It still perplexes her that a lot of the younger faces here are likely to be older than her and vice versa. Actually, the latter is a lot more weirder to think about. Yikes. Yeesh. Guh.]
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 16, 2015 17:37:05 GMT -8
Usually Owen had some difficulty recalling things like dates. But this one was always clear. Or at least, the year was clear. "I died in 1863." he told her. "I died a long time ago..." he trailed off again like before. Salvia herself looked older than him, but who knew. She could be even older than that. "When did you die?" he asked, now also curious.
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 17, 2015 7:48:33 GMT -8
[Yup. This kid is creepy.]
"Yikes, you're way older than me. I croaked in 1969, last time I checked." [Ha ha. Sixty-nine. Highly doubted the boy would get the joke, but man. Did it tickle her or what to say her death year every single time. She decided it wouldn't hurt to get a bit more chummy with the boy, since it didn't look like he'd be phased by much.] "So you stood up for the birds for more than a century, huh? That's a hell of dedication. They good co-workers, I'm guessing? Half my guys are kind of assholes. But they're tolerable enough."
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 17, 2015 14:31:13 GMT -8
So she was younger after all. No matter. When one hit Owen's age, you didn't really care much about how old anyone was anymore. They were just people.
The joke didn't pass over his head, but he opted to keep quiet out of respect for her death year and also he wasn't sure if she was intending to get a laugh out of it either. The corner of his lip twitched into a split second smile, however.
"Birds are good. But if you are good to them." He explained. "They don't like being good to us. But it's not good to hate them. They do some good sometimes." He went on to explain that he was one of the few longer-standing keepers around. Most people gave up when they had enough of their uncooperative workmates.
"Don't you work alone..?" He asked. He usually heard her on the radio and only her. Unless he hadn't caught them at the right time.
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 17, 2015 17:01:16 GMT -8
[Salvia listened carefully to his story with unexpected interest. It was rare to learn the honest experience of a Birdkeeper, let alone a patient veteran who seemed to have found his flock.]
[Confident that the boy was oblivious about her true position at the radio, as she was with most people, Salvia answered him plainly, though not without care.] "Nah, we're a team of seven--no, eight, in the office, sorry. Radio's not really a popular job either; I'm not even sure if we're that well-received. I mostly just help out with paperwork, topic-hunting, and writing the scripts for the broadcast."
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 17, 2015 20:17:42 GMT -8
"You talk too." He mentioned. "I like it when you talk." The radio show was kind of nice. When HQ first tapped into that technology it was most exciting. Owen hadn't stopped listening since.
"The birds like it when you talk too." He chuckled under his mask of a face. "Sometimes they don't like it. I don't like it when I have to turn the radio off." The birds were fussy at times.
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Post by stuffed-peppers on Jul 18, 2015 8:26:09 GMT -8
[Salvia looked at him with a genuine perk of surprise.] "Huh? Uh . . ." [She scratched her head and continued to mask a casual tone. They would be arriving at the office soon.] "Youuuu must be mistaken. I don't talk on the radio, Tolo does. And Indie, too. And sometimes Death, for whatever reason . . ."
"Are they now? Yeesh, picky audience, huh?" [The mere words of this kid was uncanny; was he sharper than his dull demeanor looked? Of course it'd be kids like him, the quiet ones are always the suspicious ones. Like Sienna. Look what underestimating a timid mouse got a proud lion in. Crap, now she had to be extra careful with what she said if he's going to be just as clever.]
[But she was flattered nevertheless at his simple comment. She refrained from smiling with secret pride, instead hiding it with a small smirk off the side. But HAH, she can feel that ego slide across that smug rug in her head.]
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Post by quinnquinn on Jul 19, 2015 7:08:44 GMT -8
"I'm sure it's you." His eyes furrowed a bit. He wasn't usually wrong with voices, so he was feeling a bit annoyed that Salvia was possibly lying to him for some reason or another. The change in topic made him dodged why he was annoyed, quite promptly.
"I don't know what they like." He shrugged. "What they like are all different. They're like people like that." They all had an attitude but they were such individuals. And that was something not everyone understood.
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