Pigeons in the Park

Participants:

claudine_icon.gif isabelle_icon.gif munin_icon.gif

Scene Title Pigeons in the Park
Synopsis Claudine and Isabelle encounter Munin in passing.
Date October 5, 2008

Central Park

Central Park has been, and remains, a key attraction in New York City, both for tourists and local residents. Though slightly smaller, approximately 100 acres at its southern end scarred by and still recovering from the explosion, the vast northern regions of the park remain intact.

An array of paths and tracks wind their way through stands of trees and swathes of grass, frequented by joggers, bikers, dog-walkers, and horsemen alike. Flowerbeds, tended gardens, and sheltered conservatories provide a wide array of colorful plants; the sheer size of the park, along with a designated wildlife sanctuary add a wide variety of fauna to the park's visitor list. Several ponds and lakes, as well as the massive Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, break up the expanses of green and growing things. There are roads, for those who prefer to drive through; numerous playgrounds for children dot the landscape.

Many are the people who come to the Park - painters, birdwatchers, musicians, and rock climbers. Others come for the shows; the New York Shakespeare Festival at the Delacorte Theater, the annual outdoor concert of the New York Philharmonic on the Great Lawn, the summer performances of the Metropolitan Opera, and many other smaller performing groups besides. They come to ice-skate on the rink, to ride on the Central Park Carousel, to view the many, many statues scattered about the park.

Some of the southern end of the park remains buried beneath rubble. Some of it still looks worn and torn, struggling to come back from the edge of destruction despite everything the crews of landscapers can do. The Wollman Rink has not been rebuilt; the Central Park Wildlife Center remains very much a work in progress, but is not wholly a loss. Someday, this portion of Central Park just might be restored fully to its prior state.


On this sunny early afternoon, most people in Central Park are going for jogs, or just taking walks to get out of their homes. Isabelle is only walking through Central Park to get home. She doesn't come there often for certain reasons and she doesn't look as if she has been having that good of a day either. Dressed in a black tank top and dark jeans along with a pair of black boots, Isabelle walks down a path with a hand on her head as she scans the area as she walks.

Claudine is out and about for a jog. She needs to work off a bit of stress, and now that her arm isn't in a sling anymore, she can go out and about. Whee. There's still a white gauze patch on her right shoulder as she runs, dressed in a pair of Columbia bootie shorts and a grey tank top. Huff puff! Run!

Further down the path, seated on the edge of a memorial bench, is a girl — or at least it's something that looks like a girl. All the pigeons flocking around her makes it difficult for Munin to see, or in the case of Isabelle and Claudine, be seen. The sheer number of birds might have something to do with the stale bread crumbs that she holds cupped in the palms of her small hands like a holy offering of sorts. Amidst the fluttering sea of slate gray, blue and dark purple sits a large black shape, staunch and vigilant. Bran the raven keeps a lookout from his perch on the back of the bench, motionless but for the occasional snap of his beak whenever a pigeon flies a little too close to his face for comfort.

As Izzy walks she blinks when she sees all the birds. "What the fuck?" the woman tilts her head but doesn't say anything. Doesn't look like Munin is being eaten by the birds or anything. She does scratch her head though and continues to walk, but much slower than before. Eyeing the bird lady.

Run! Run! Run! As the young Filipina passes by pigeon lady, she quirks a brow, wrinkling her nose a bit. Will there be feedback? who knows? Her own powers are constantly on, and she only keeps the surface thoughts of others on a relatively 'low' volume. She wrinkles her nose and peers curiously the birdlady before jogging in place, not wanting to scatter the flock afterall.

There isn't much for Claudine to pick up on, even if she should actively skim more off the top of the girl's head. Her thoughts are so simplistic that, for the most part, they're composed of images instead of words. In her mind's eye, she holds the vision of a dark, dry place with tall ceilings and a series of empty rafters made from metal beams. Although faint, the mental picture is accompanied by the sound of a soft, cooing voice not entirely unlike the vocalizations of the pigeons back in the real world. Safe. Warm. Good place. I show you.

Isabelle of course doesn't know that any of this is going on, so she inches away slowly but doesn't turn her back. Something is drawing her to the bird-lady. Her eyebrows raise and she folds her arms across her chest as she observes. Claudine gets a glance but that's all seeing as she hasn't tried to make any interaction with Izzy.

Now /THAT/ definitely catches her attention. She looks over towards the birds and then the birdlady, her brows raised as she notices the woman. Claudine continues to peers curiously towards the birdlady before hrmming for a few moments and looks over towards Isabelle, bowing her head as well.

Munin may be oblivious to Claudine and Isabelle's presence, but the raven isn't. That's why he's there. Bran, finally having reached his limit for the morning, begins beating his wings with such force and vigor that the majority of the flock disperses to seek food elsewhere. They needn't look far — Central Park is full of willing people with bags of seed and bits of bread, all of them eager to get a closer look at the birds on this particular stretch of path. When only a few stragglers remain, Munin begins dusting away the remaining bits of food that are too small for the pigeons to eat and too large to keep on her lap.

Isabelle doesn't flinch when all the birds go flying. She looks up to the sky to watch and then her gaze centers back onto Munin. Under her breath, "Crazy bird people," she says and shakes her head. Who lets tons of birds stand around you and possibly leave a little present behind to you?? Who does that???

Claudine flinches. She's taken aback and even falls onto her ass as she was more intrigued by the interaction with the bird lady and the birds themselves. She lets out a soft chuckle before looking towards Munin, "You seem to have a way with the birds.."

"M'not crazy," Munin tells Isabelle as she wipes her hands on her leggings. "I just have a knack is all." There's nothing defensive about her tone, but if the other woman looks carefully she might detect the beginnings of a piteous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. To Claudine, she offers a hand up off the ground. "Sorry about them," she says. "They didn't mean t'startle you like that, but bein' all excitable is just a part of their nature. They can't help it."

Isabelle chuckles at Claudine's fall but doesn't walk over to help. Her eyes are centered on Munin and she nods her head slowly, "Yeah, they seem to really like you," she says this in a neutral tone. As Munin speaks of the birds, "You talk like you can communicate with them or something." Isabelle puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head. Strange girl here.

"Perhaps she can? Some people are particularly empathic when it comes to animals.." Claudine offers as she eases on up and dusts off her butt before looking towards Munin, raising her brows once more.

"Pigeons aren't real complicated. Once you get it through your head that they're only interested in you for your food, they're pretty easy t'get along wit'." Munin lets her arm fall back to her side as soon as she's sure that Claudine has regained her balance. "If'n I could talk to birds, miss, you can bet I wouldn't be wasting my time with these ninnies. I don't expect they'd be any good at carrying on their half of the conversation."

Isabelle only chuckles softly in response and looks to Claudine. Izzy seems to be thinking, but about what? "I would just be worried that they would poop on me."

And Claudine hrmms for a few moments as she peers curiously towards Isabelle, peering into the woman's head as well. She takes a deep breath and hrmms for a few moments, chewing on her bottom lip while nodding. "What birds would you speak with? Oh, and how rude of me, I'm Amanda.." Yes, she lied, but hey, it works.

"This one." The response to Claudine's question is almost immediate. Either it's one she's already thought about, or she gave the answer that first sprung to mind — there's no way to know for sure. She gestures to Bran who, indignant, ruffles his feathers and turns his face away from the trio, taking an intense and sudden interest in something that only he can see. "Yeah, they'll mess on you sometimes but it's nothing that you can't take out with some water and some good soap. Same as a kitten that likes to piss on your carpet."

Claudine would have just seen Isabelle thinking about her job and what she was going to wear tonight. Shallow thoughts huh? Izzy is just listening to Munin and Amanda's conversation, she then looks closely at Bran, "He a friend of yours?" her eyebrows rose. Is that her pet?

"Nice. Oh hello!" Isabelle chirps brightly while looks over towards over Bran before smiling towards Munin. "And what's your name?" she asks curiously.

"Er—" Munin, who was a talkative little thing up until only a few moments ago, falls strangely silent. "Eileen. Sorry. I should have said something before." Now that the topic of conversation has changed from birds to her name, her demeanor shifts to match the raven's. Stony, uncertain. "Not a friend, exactly. No more'n you can be friends with any other animal. He'll follow me around sometimes — nothing unusual abou' that."

"Some say ravens are an omen of death." Seems like Isabelle doesn't really like Bran to much. She brushes a strand of her hair out of her face and studies the bird. "He doesn't look like he wants to bring death though."

Claudine acks as there's a buzzing from her butt. It's her pager and she hrmms for a few moments and smiles towards the others. "I have to go. It was nice meeting you both.." she says matter of factly before running off.

Bran's head snaps abruptly in Isabelle's direction and he begins to shuffle sideways along the back of the bench, moving closer and closer until he reaches the edge. He can't understand what she's saying — even Munin knows that — but he's spent enough time around humans to recognize discomfort when he senses it. As if intent on giving her a real scare, he spreads his wings and launches himself at the woman's face with a raucous cheer. Fear me, for I am Bran — bringer of death, bringer of my feet in your hair!

"Good bye!" Munin calls after Claudine.

That was not wise, Isabelle holds her hand up and they instantly heat up, no flames appear but if Bran touches her hands, he will be burnt. Isabelle yells as the bird comes closer and she glares at Bran and then Munin, "Bastard bird!" Her facial expression is one of intense dislike of the bird.

A slight shift of his wings is all it takes. Bran swings upward at the last possible moment, avoiding singed feathers by only a hair's breadth. It takes him a few more seconds to fully recover, but when he does Munin is nowhere to be seen. Maybe she decided to use the distraction and slip away in the confusion, or maybe the attack was coordinated for that very purpose — Isabelle will never know. Bran isn't telling. Chortling to himself, he settles in a nearby tree to preen on one of the highest branches.

"Well ain't that a son of—" Isabelle looks around to see if she can see Munin and when she doesn't spot the girl she smirks up to Bran, "You are so lucky I didn't fry your ass" she then takes that opportunity to walk away towards her home. DAMN BIRDS.


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October 5th: Brainwashed is as Brainwashed Does
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