A Magpie In The Summer

@not-a-corvid

RP Blog for Maggie, changeling character, summer courtier, willful bird.

406 posts

push-that-pesticide

There's that bird again, this time she's perched atop a plastic container on a street corner, crooning out country melodies with the percussive accompaniment of her hands hitting the front and sides of the box.

Country was not exactly Bugsy's cup of tea, but when he saw who was singing, he grinned, topfull of mischief. When she was done, he hollered "OI!" from across the street, "PLAY WONDERWALL!"

Maggie's head snapped up and her eyes locked with Bugsy's for the briefest moment before she grinned and stuck her tongue out, hands going to tap out a rhythm mimicking a strumming pattern. Followed by her belting out the lyrics to Wonderwall with maybe a touch more enthusiasm than was warranted.

A letter for Hester was delivered to Book’s, there’s no address or postmark on the plain white envelope, and it sits unassumingly on the counter, waiting for her. A bit beaten up, the cheap thin paper of the envelope is clearly not coping well with whatever it is that was jammed in alongside the letter, with small rips dotting the edges of the misshapen lump. On the front, a messy scrawl simply reads: "Hessie"

Hester opened the letter with extreme caution, fully expecting for it to be full of anthrax or a magical explosive of some kind- the 20 or so minutes between when she found it and when she opened it did a number on her heart rate. But she did open it, carefully extracting the letter inside to read.

There's nothing untoward about the letter after all, and inside along with a letter written in the same scratchy hand as the envelope bore, is a braided leather bracelet with charms of an eye and a cat with little bat wings

I’m sorry, the letter reads,

I pushed too hard when you were hurting and I shouldn’t have. I hope your arm’s okay now, and all the shit with your family turned out alright. And that your, uh... Sabbatical? went well.

Anyway, I get it if you don’t wanna talk to me again or whatever, you’ve got your own shit to deal with, and all that. But I thought I’d give you this, don’t feel like you have to keep it or anything, I just didn’t wanna throw it out myself and I can’t keep looking at it everyday y’know?

You were a real great friend you know, I think the best I’ve had in awhile, so I hope you’re doing good and I wish you all the best in the future and all that.

Maggie

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Brango is like 90% sure this is Maggie. “Hey, an advantage of the whole masquerade thing is that we’ll probably never know who we’re talking to. Doesn’t really matter if you go off the rails then, yeah? Perfect time to spill your guts to a stranger.”

“You have a good point there, but using unknown people as free therapy seems a bit rude, y'know?” She shrugs, and pulls her cloak tightly around herself, “Ooh, I know! What if we both get absolutely shitfaced on the punch, and then neither of us will have to remember it when I make a complete fool of myself and wind up crying over- y'know, stuff”

Although she stumbled over the last few words, most of it was said with a smile and a hint of a laugh. It was a joke, mostly anyway.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Sure!” They grin. It is ambiguous how much they are joking. “Here’s some bread.” They hand her two chunks of baguette.

Maggie was planning to play it cool, but when handed chunks of bread what’s a bird to do but tear it into tiny little pieces? After a few picks at one of the pieces, she tucks them under her arm and collects two sizable glasses of punch, handing one off even as she takes a gulp of her own

“Ah okay we’re actually doing this. I’m gonna quickly text my boyfriend then let’s find a place to sit down.” They hold the glass with one hand and pull out their phone to text with the other.

Maggie waves a hand dismissively, “Nah. Well, maybe, but like probably not. Sitting down’s good though”

“Or we can just walk in circles or something.” They shrug. “But like, so on what you said, it’s something I kinda feel too and I don’t know if ‘just not thinking too hard about it’ is healthy or whatever but I know that I like climbing and I know that I didn’t give a shit about climbing before but that doesn’t change the fact that I like climbing now? Is it me? Fuck dude what even is me?” They take a drink.

“Yeah that’s, yeah.” Maggie collapses into a seat at the nearest table, and begins picking apart her bread again, “I mean I guess I kinda took everything in stride and just, it is what it is, and I didn’t really think about it, but like. There must be something up with the singing thing because number one thing I’ve blown up at people for is to do with my voice. But I can’t really do anything with it either, because I can’t go inside and that’s a whole thing, and I’ve never like, sung with accompaniment before either, so maybe it’s just not really worth it, I dunno”

She gets another big shrug. “Sounds rough. I’m sure you could find a busker if you wanted to try it out, but that’s probably not the actual problem.”

"Hey I hadn't thought of that, busking's prob'ly a good start really, it's basically just what I already do, 'cept sometimes you get some cash" she grins, "I think I might try that sometime, y'know"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Brango is like 90% sure this is Maggie. “Hey, an advantage of the whole masquerade thing is that we’ll probably never know who we’re talking to. Doesn’t really matter if you go off the rails then, yeah? Perfect time to spill your guts to a stranger.”

“You have a good point there, but using unknown people as free therapy seems a bit rude, y'know?” She shrugs, and pulls her cloak tightly around herself, “Ooh, I know! What if we both get absolutely shitfaced on the punch, and then neither of us will have to remember it when I make a complete fool of myself and wind up crying over- y'know, stuff”

Although she stumbled over the last few words, most of it was said with a smile and a hint of a laugh. It was a joke, mostly anyway.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Sure!” They grin. It is ambiguous how much they are joking. “Here’s some bread.” They hand her two chunks of baguette.

Maggie was planning to play it cool, but when handed chunks of bread what’s a bird to do but tear it into tiny little pieces? After a few picks at one of the pieces, she tucks them under her arm and collects two sizable glasses of punch, handing one off even as she takes a gulp of her own

“Ah okay we’re actually doing this. I’m gonna quickly text my boyfriend then let’s find a place to sit down.” They hold the glass with one hand and pull out their phone to text with the other.

Maggie waves a hand dismissively, “Nah. Well, maybe, but like probably not. Sitting down’s good though”

“Or we can just walk in circles or something.” They shrug. “But like, so on what you said, it’s something I kinda feel too and I don’t know if ‘just not thinking too hard about it’ is healthy or whatever but I know that I like climbing and I know that I didn’t give a shit about climbing before but that doesn’t change the fact that I like climbing now? Is it me? Fuck dude what even is me?” They take a drink.

"Yeah that's, yeah." Maggie collapses into a seat at the nearest table, and begins picking apart her bread again, "I mean I guess I kinda took everything in stride and just, it is what it is, and I didn't really think about it, but like. There must be something up with the singing thing because number one thing I've blown up at people for is to do with my voice. But I can't really do anything with it either, because I can't go inside and that's a whole thing, and I've never like, sung with accompaniment before either, so maybe it's just not really worth it, I dunno"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Brango is like 90% sure this is Maggie. “Hey, an advantage of the whole masquerade thing is that we’ll probably never know who we’re talking to. Doesn’t really matter if you go off the rails then, yeah? Perfect time to spill your guts to a stranger.”

“You have a good point there, but using unknown people as free therapy seems a bit rude, y'know?” She shrugs, and pulls her cloak tightly around herself, “Ooh, I know! What if we both get absolutely shitfaced on the punch, and then neither of us will have to remember it when I make a complete fool of myself and wind up crying over- y'know, stuff”

Although she stumbled over the last few words, most of it was said with a smile and a hint of a laugh. It was a joke, mostly anyway.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Sure!” They grin. It is ambiguous how much they are joking. “Here’s some bread.” They hand her two chunks of baguette.

Maggie was planning to play it cool, but when handed chunks of bread what’s a bird to do but tear it into tiny little pieces? After a few picks at one of the pieces, she tucks them under her arm and collects two sizable glasses of punch, handing one off even as she takes a gulp of her own

“Ah okay we’re actually doing this. I’m gonna quickly text my boyfriend then let’s find a place to sit down.” They hold the glass with one hand and pull out their phone to text with the other.

Maggie waves a hand dismissively, "Nah. Well, maybe, but like probably not. Sitting down's good though"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Brango is like 90% sure this is Maggie. “Hey, an advantage of the whole masquerade thing is that we’ll probably never know who we’re talking to. Doesn’t really matter if you go off the rails then, yeah? Perfect time to spill your guts to a stranger.”

“You have a good point there, but using unknown people as free therapy seems a bit rude, y'know?” She shrugs, and pulls her cloak tightly around herself, “Ooh, I know! What if we both get absolutely shitfaced on the punch, and then neither of us will have to remember it when I make a complete fool of myself and wind up crying over- y'know, stuff”

Although she stumbled over the last few words, most of it was said with a smile and a hint of a laugh. It was a joke, mostly anyway.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Sure!” They grin. It is ambiguous how much they are joking. “Here’s some bread.” They hand her two chunks of baguette.

Maggie was planning to play it cool, but when handed chunks of bread what's a bird to do but tear it into tiny little pieces? After a few picks at one of the pieces, she tucks them under her arm and collects two sizable glasses of punch, handing one off even as she takes a gulp of her own

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Brango is like 90% sure this is Maggie. “Hey, an advantage of the whole masquerade thing is that we’ll probably never know who we’re talking to. Doesn’t really matter if you go off the rails then, yeah? Perfect time to spill your guts to a stranger.”

"You have a good point there, but using unknown people as free therapy seems a bit rude, y'know?" She shrugs, and pulls her cloak tightly around herself, "Ooh, I know! What if we both get absolutely shitfaced on the punch, and then neither of us will have to remember it when I make a complete fool of myself and wind up crying over- y'know, stuff"

Although she stumbled over the last few words, most of it was said with a smile and a hint of a laugh. It was a joke, mostly anyway.

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

“Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an’ all that”

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

“What- what were you talking to the band about?”

“Oh!” Their grin gets wider. Little sharp teeth shine. “I was trying to put in a request for Rick Astly’s anthem Never Gonna Give You Up. I’m really not sure if they were listening to me or not, they’re kinda hard to read.”

Maggie bursts into a cackling laughter despite herself, “God I hope they do it, it’d be fucking chaos. There’s a bunch of people here who’d have no goddamn clue what was going on, while everyone else goes nuts for one reason or another”

“Omg I know, right? It would be awesome. I really hope they were listening to me. I guess if they weren’t I could always try again. Be more of a nuisance.” They look at the band. “Wonder if it would sound like them covering it, or just it would magically sound exactly like the original?“

“Y'know I dunno, from what I’ve seen so far I think it’d just sound like a cover, but if you gave me like, 5 minutes to look up the video, I reckon I could do a pretty convincing Rick Astley impression. Just to really sell it” She grins brightly, but it fades a touch as she looks back and the band and worries at her lip with a strange sort look in her eyes

“Oh yeah? You’re really good at impressions? That’s neat, I…” they trail off. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Maggie’s attention snaps back to Brango with a sharp jerk of her head, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just, I dunno, a bit wired I guess. I uh- well I used to be a singer, or am one now is more accurate I guess. And just, watching the band play it just hit me y'know, like, what am I doing with myself?”

They follow her gaze to the band and look back to her. “Do you wanna be up there with them, or…?”

“I really don’t know, I mean, I thought I didn’t, but maybe I do? But what if that’s not really me, y'know? What if that’s because of- of them? I sit in my tree all day and I sing and that’s fine, because that’s just for me, and other people hear it sure, but that’s like, it’s different. But maybe I do want to perform for people, like properly y'know, make use of this thing that I have, but what if that’s just how they wanted me to think? I don’t even remember what I wanted to be when I was a kid anymore”

She’s spiralling, she’s definitely spiralling. The words tumble out of her at a quicker and quicker pace the more of them there are, and somewhere along the line she started digging her nails into the flesh of her upper arm.

“Uhhh,” Brango says. They sure don’t know how to deal with most of that but they focus on the one thing they do know how to do something about.

“Hey,” they gesture at her hands. “Cut that out. Let’s get you like, a chunk of bread to squeeze, yeah?”

She looks at her arm as if she hadn’t even noticed what she was doing and her grip slackens just a bit,

“Right, yeah, I- uh…” She goes to fidget with her hands instead, which requires pulling the hand with the bracelet she’d hidden out from under her leg. This is evidently going to be a whole thing, as her face goes through a journey that lands on defeat as she looks at the bracelet, “Sorry. I’m a mess and you shouldn’t have to deal with all this. It’s supposed to be a fun night, right? Not a pity party for the bird with all the issues”

They blow a raspberry. “Come on,” they wave for her to follow them. “I’m not joking about the bread. And I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be a sad night where we cry as we waltz to slow music or something, so you’ve got the right mood. I bet if I ask a Winter they will confirm that this is 100% a pity party.”

"Yeah, yeah I guess you're right" Maggie says with a huff of a laugh, picking herself off the ground and trudging after Brango, "But also like, tell me to shut up whenever, I tend to just sorta run my mouth and I don't really listen to what I'm saying so I guess it can get a bit much"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

“Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an’ all that”

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

“What- what were you talking to the band about?”

“Oh!” Their grin gets wider. Little sharp teeth shine. “I was trying to put in a request for Rick Astly’s anthem Never Gonna Give You Up. I’m really not sure if they were listening to me or not, they’re kinda hard to read.”

Maggie bursts into a cackling laughter despite herself, “God I hope they do it, it’d be fucking chaos. There’s a bunch of people here who’d have no goddamn clue what was going on, while everyone else goes nuts for one reason or another”

“Omg I know, right? It would be awesome. I really hope they were listening to me. I guess if they weren’t I could always try again. Be more of a nuisance.” They look at the band. “Wonder if it would sound like them covering it, or just it would magically sound exactly like the original?“

“Y'know I dunno, from what I’ve seen so far I think it’d just sound like a cover, but if you gave me like, 5 minutes to look up the video, I reckon I could do a pretty convincing Rick Astley impression. Just to really sell it” She grins brightly, but it fades a touch as she looks back and the band and worries at her lip with a strange sort look in her eyes

“Oh yeah? You’re really good at impressions? That’s neat, I…” they trail off. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Maggie’s attention snaps back to Brango with a sharp jerk of her head, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just, I dunno, a bit wired I guess. I uh- well I used to be a singer, or am one now is more accurate I guess. And just, watching the band play it just hit me y'know, like, what am I doing with myself?”

They follow her gaze to the band and look back to her. “Do you wanna be up there with them, or…?”

“I really don’t know, I mean, I thought I didn’t, but maybe I do? But what if that’s not really me, y'know? What if that’s because of- of them? I sit in my tree all day and I sing and that’s fine, because that’s just for me, and other people hear it sure, but that’s like, it’s different. But maybe I do want to perform for people, like properly y'know, make use of this thing that I have, but what if that’s just how they wanted me to think? I don’t even remember what I wanted to be when I was a kid anymore”

She’s spiralling, she’s definitely spiralling. The words tumble out of her at a quicker and quicker pace the more of them there are, and somewhere along the line she started digging her nails into the flesh of her upper arm.

“Uhhh,” Brango says. They sure don’t know how to deal with most of that but they focus on the one thing they do know how to do something about.

“Hey,” they gesture at her hands. “Cut that out. Let’s get you like, a chunk of bread to squeeze, yeah?”

She looks at her arm as if she hadn't even noticed what she was doing and her grip slackens just a bit,

"Right, yeah, I- uh..." She goes to fidget with her hands instead, which requires pulling the hand with the bracelet she'd hidden out from under her leg. This is evidently going to be a whole thing, as her face goes through a journey that lands on defeat as she looks at the bracelet, "Sorry. I'm a mess and you shouldn't have to deal with all this. It's supposed to be a fun night, right? Not a pity party for the bird with all the issues"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

“Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an’ all that”

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

“What- what were you talking to the band about?”

“Oh!” Their grin gets wider. Little sharp teeth shine. “I was trying to put in a request for Rick Astly’s anthem Never Gonna Give You Up. I’m really not sure if they were listening to me or not, they’re kinda hard to read.”

Maggie bursts into a cackling laughter despite herself, “God I hope they do it, it’d be fucking chaos. There’s a bunch of people here who’d have no goddamn clue what was going on, while everyone else goes nuts for one reason or another”

“Omg I know, right? It would be awesome. I really hope they were listening to me. I guess if they weren’t I could always try again. Be more of a nuisance.” They look at the band. “Wonder if it would sound like them covering it, or just it would magically sound exactly like the original?“

“Y'know I dunno, from what I’ve seen so far I think it’d just sound like a cover, but if you gave me like, 5 minutes to look up the video, I reckon I could do a pretty convincing Rick Astley impression. Just to really sell it” She grins brightly, but it fades a touch as she looks back and the band and worries at her lip with a strange sort look in her eyes

“Oh yeah? You’re really good at impressions? That’s neat, I…” they trail off. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Maggie’s attention snaps back to Brango with a sharp jerk of her head, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just, I dunno, a bit wired I guess. I uh- well I used to be a singer, or am one now is more accurate I guess. And just, watching the band play it just hit me y'know, like, what am I doing with myself?”

They follow her gaze to the band and look back to her. “Do you wanna be up there with them, or…?”

"I really don't know, I mean, I thought I didn't, but maybe I do? But what if that's not really me, y'know? What if that's because of- of them? I sit in my tree all day and I sing and that's fine, because that's just for me, and other people hear it sure, but that's like, it's different. But maybe I do want to perform for people, like properly y'know, make use of this thing that I have, but what if that's just how they wanted me to think? I don't even remember what I wanted to be when I was a kid anymore"

She's spiralling, she's definitely spiralling. The words tumble out of her at a quicker and quicker pace the more of them there are, and somewhere along the line she started digging her nails into the flesh of her upper arm.

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

“Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an’ all that”

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

“What- what were you talking to the band about?”

“Oh!” Their grin gets wider. Little sharp teeth shine. “I was trying to put in a request for Rick Astly’s anthem Never Gonna Give You Up. I’m really not sure if they were listening to me or not, they’re kinda hard to read.”

Maggie bursts into a cackling laughter despite herself, “God I hope they do it, it’d be fucking chaos. There’s a bunch of people here who’d have no goddamn clue what was going on, while everyone else goes nuts for one reason or another”

“Omg I know, right? It would be awesome. I really hope they were listening to me. I guess if they weren’t I could always try again. Be more of a nuisance.” They look at the band. “Wonder if it would sound like them covering it, or just it would magically sound exactly like the original?“

“Y'know I dunno, from what I’ve seen so far I think it’d just sound like a cover, but if you gave me like, 5 minutes to look up the video, I reckon I could do a pretty convincing Rick Astley impression. Just to really sell it” She grins brightly, but it fades a touch as she looks back and the band and worries at her lip with a strange sort look in her eyes

“Oh yeah? You’re really good at impressions? That’s neat, I…” they trail off. “Are you okay?”

"Huh?" Maggie's attention snaps back to Brango with a sharp jerk of her head, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just, I dunno, a bit wired I guess. I uh- well I used to be a singer, or am one now is more accurate I guess. And just, watching the band play it just hit me y'know, like, what am I doing with myself?"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

“Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an’ all that”

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

“What- what were you talking to the band about?”

“Oh!” Their grin gets wider. Little sharp teeth shine. “I was trying to put in a request for Rick Astly’s anthem Never Gonna Give You Up. I’m really not sure if they were listening to me or not, they’re kinda hard to read.”

Maggie bursts into a cackling laughter despite herself, “God I hope they do it, it’d be fucking chaos. There’s a bunch of people here who’d have no goddamn clue what was going on, while everyone else goes nuts for one reason or another”

“Omg I know, right? It would be awesome. I really hope they were listening to me. I guess if they weren’t I could always try again. Be more of a nuisance.” They look at the band. “Wonder if it would sound like them covering it, or just it would magically sound exactly like the original?“

"Y'know I dunno, from what I've seen so far I think it'd just sound like a cover, but if you gave me like, 5 minutes to look up the video, I reckon I could do a pretty convincing Rick Astley impression. Just to really sell it" She grins brightly, but it fades a touch as she looks back and the band and worries at her lip with a strange sort look in her eyes

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

“Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an’ all that”

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

“What- what were you talking to the band about?”

“Oh!” Their grin gets wider. Little sharp teeth shine. “I was trying to put in a request for Rick Astly’s anthem Never Gonna Give You Up. I’m really not sure if they were listening to me or not, they’re kinda hard to read.”

Maggie bursts into a cackling laughter despite herself, "God I hope they do it, it'd be fucking chaos. There's a bunch of people here who'd have no goddamn clue what was going on, while everyone else goes nuts for one reason or another"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn’t really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she’d been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she’d been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

“Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-” she waves the hand she’s not sitting on around vaguely, “this”

“Well, back when I couldn’t deal with parties, my strategy was to hang out by the buffet table and eat constantly because if my mouth was full I couldn’t be expected to talk to people. So that’s an option.” They grin.

Maggie huffs out a laugh and ducks her head,

"Yeah, yeah I guess. I mean I did that when I got here, gotta take advantage of a free meal when you can an' all that"

She cocks her head and narrows her eyes a little in thought as she belatedly puts together where Brango had approached from,

"What- what were you talking to the band about?"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Just on the outskirts of the goings-on of the masquerade, a young woman dressed all in black and white sits cross-legged. She's both watching the band with a reserved sort of intensity, and contemplating a bracelet in her hand in equal measure. A forlorn picture against the backdrop of merriment around her.

She can see someone wearing a bright blue suit-jacket talking to the band. They finish their conversation, and look around. They notice that they were being watched and head over towards Maggie. Due to the magic of the night their furry face is unrecognizable, even though normally their bandit mask with plastic gems glued to it would do very little to hide their identity.

“Hey,” they say with a friendly wave. “Doing some people-watching?”

Maggie looks up, startled, her orange eyes staring unblinkingly at Brango through her beaked mask. She hadn't really noticed their approach, despite their proximity to one of the things she'd been observing. She bites her lip, and hastily hides the bracelet she'd been holding in her fist and jams it under her leg. Subtle, she is not.

"Something like that, yeah. I dunno what else to do with all this-" she waves the hand she's not sitting on around vaguely, "this"

#the winter masquerade #brango

Corvids are just the best

adulthoodisokay

i love birds so much

theindependentconservative

“I’m a bat now”

“What are you doing, Jerry?”

“Oh, you know… Just hanging out…”

#aesthetic #but also #aussie magpies aren't corvids lol

push-that-pesticide

It's that bird Bugsy nearly ran over again. She's standing around looking incredibly frustrated outside a bar, she leans up to a section of the counter that can be accessed without going inside and says something to the person tending it. Who shakes their head in response. And so she stalks off and climbs up a nearby tree to sulk.

Bugsy was about to join her at the bar, when she appeared to be turned away from the bar for some reason. He snuffed out his cigarette, and meandered over to the tree she'd run up.

"Yaknow, I haven't tried, but I don't think you're gonna find much booze up trees."

push-that-pesticide

He rifled through his pockets, and pulled out a small booklet. It read 'architectural features of [city name] that kinda looks like dicks'. And sure enough, inside was a collection of photocopied pictures of various architectural details that looked like dicks.

Truly an artistic triumph.

Maggie snorted and pulled the booklet closer to flick through it,

"God mate why?" She made a few quiet squawking noises as she kept going, "I didn't even notice the half of these, jeez. Reminds me o' back home. We had this big-ass statue of an owl out front of one o' the malls, dunno what it was supposed to be called, but everyone knew it as the dick owl"

push-that-pesticide

"A dick owl? What the fuck does that look like?"

He shrugged, taking it back when she was done leafing through.

"Just think it's funny that people who spend so much time making sure something looks good, completely forget to check what it actually looks like. Every single one of these represents a line of people who didn't look close enough."

"Yeah nah, it's the same shit as that. Some minimalist sculpture or something, but if you look at it from the back? Where it's got no detail? No feathers or face or anything?"

Maggie grinned and raised her eyebrows suggestively before tossing back her drink

push-that-pesticide

"Shiiiiiit, that's bad. Who the fuck cleared that?"

He matched Maggie, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"You got cash for another round?"

"Yeah sure, but only one more, mind. I gotta keep some aside if I wanna have any hope of not dying this winter"

She dug through her pockets and pulled out another crumpled handful of notes, and tossed them over to him

push-that-pesticide

At the mention of her needing to keep some aside for winter, he raised a hand.

"Hey- don't worry about it, this one's on me. Keep it for winter."

He gave her a wink, and then disappeared back into the bar to get another round.

"Cheers mate"

Maggie grinned, idly rolling her empty glass about on the table as she waited for Bugsy to get back

push-that-pesticide

And sure enough, he returned a couple of minutes later with the next round.

"Hey- to your health," he put the glass in Maggie's hand and clinked it with his own.

"You got a shelter or somewhere you can stay when it gets real cold?"

Maggie smiled in thanks, accepting the toast and looking somewhat contemplatively at her drink

"Not really, shit's hard. This's my first winter somewhere it gets stupid cold, and these feathers just aren't built for it." She shrugs, but it's more performative than anything, "I've had offers for help but... I can't really follow up on them, I kinda can't go inside like... Ever"

push-that-pesticide

"Fuuuuuuck, that's rough. Make sure you get one of those uh... burrito blankets, yknow? The really warm ones- space blanket? I think that's it. And stay out of the wind when you can, head to the underpass or something."

"Since I got a job I've been saving up a bit, got a real nice sleeping bag from an op-shop, 'though it took some convincing to get other people to go in and scope out quality and pay for it for me. 'N' I've moved outta the park for now, got a winter nest set up in the woods just outside town, 's a little bit warmer there, thicker canopies and all that"

Maggie shrugged, and took another swig of her drink,

"I'll get by. Probably."

A Magpie In The Summer @not-a-corvid - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag