leans against a wall hey mizanasch w/26.
There was someone sitting on his bench. And they were dressed like a pigeon.
Nasch folded his arms across his chest and scowled. Blondie over there was feeding the birds, which was a disgusting habit (They followed you! And shit on everything!) and his clothing was atrocious. He had a sketchbook open in his lap. Nasch had sat on the same bench to do his class reading for three years straight, every week, like clockwork.
Now, even if he managed to get rid of Birdhead (which shouldn't be too difficult), the birds would know, dammit.
"Oi." He shoved the intruder's bag aside and tossed a rock at the ground to disperse the pigeons. He sat down on the bench and opened his book.
Then he waited.
The pigeons squawked. The birdseed hit the ground. A pen scratched across the surface of the sketchbook. The bench continued to be occupied.
"You're Durbe's roommate, right?"
"What?"
Nasch blinked. Birdhead was staring at him.
Had Durbe mentioned this guy? Nasch tried to remember -- Durbe had a friend who was going to design school -- oh. This had to be Mizael.
"Yeah," Nasch said. "I'm Nasch."
Mizael said nothing. He scowled deeply. Then he ripped out the page he'd been drawing on and threw it at the nearest garbage can.
"Hold still," he said, and he grabbed the pen from behind his ear.
"What the hell are you doing?" Nasch asked. Mizael drew furiously, and ignored him.
Nasch glared.
"I'm looking for inspiration," Mizael snapped. "Just stop moving!"
