fandomtownies | The Park, Tuesday evening

The Park, Tuesday evening

After having a drink and some conversation at Caritas, The Tick was cutting through the park on his way back to the school. It was kind of hard to believe that he'd only been gone a week. It all... felt different somehow. Even Tick's antennae seemed to be reacting strangely to the air out here. It was kind of weird.

[OOC: Primarily for

crazyvampchick, but totally open for interaction.]

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The stars in the park swirled above her, and one of the ducks was sweeter than the others. She couldn't decide which she liked best, so she'd ~~stolen~~ bought a loaf of bread from the grocery store and was feeding the ducks.

When she found the one that didn't want the bread, she'd find the duck she liked best.

The Tick - who had left town a couple days after the whole mess with Angelus and was completely out of the loop with the current happenings in Fandom - recognized his fellow (as far as he knew) teacher. "Professor Drusilla!" he called. "How are you tonight?"

A little bug. One whose thoughts were jumbled and tangled like a knot of string that she wanted to bat at and play with and twist all up.

"Good evening." Drusilla smiled and nodded at the Tick. She held a piece of bread out to him. "Do you want to feed the ducklings?"

Tick's antennae reared back slightly, seemingly confused and weirded out. This feeling apparently didn't strike below the scalp, though, since he walked over and took the bread. "Thank you, Drusilla! Did you have a pleasant Thanksgiving?" he asked, tearing a piece of bread of to throw to the ducks.

Silly antennae. Maybe she'd tie them in a bow.

"We ate lobsters and danced through ponds and puddles after," she said, tossing a piece of bread at the duck. Why didn't she think to find knives to throw at them instead? "And you?"

Tick didn't blink at Drusilla's holiday memories. "I fought a nefarious senior citizen and his giant, mutated turkeys. Good triumphed over evil once more."

Drusilla clapped her hands delightedly, accidentally squishing half the bag of bread in the process. "Did he wear a toupee with glitter in it? Did the turkeys ring him 'round and fight off the stuffing and the gravy?"

"No toupee for this villain! He just wears a hood as black as his wrinkly heart."

Tick was starting to lose track of the conversation with her turkey question. "Err, no. The turkeys fought off the assembled heroes trying to save the day." He rallied at this point. "But their fight was for naught! We took the Spade of Righteousness and dug at the Dirt of Dirty Deeds and, egads, we found ourselves some Hidden Pirate Booty of Thanks during the holiday!"

"You found treasure?" asked Drusilla, perking up. "Though I think they may have found a carving knife too."

She looked at the half-flattened bag of bread and pouted. "I think I broke it."

OOC: OMG, am falling asleep here. Tomorrow OK with you?

"No, no carving knives! The turkeys were arrested and sent to prison like any criminal. And they're more than capable of taking care of themselves once there!"

"No, Drusilla, you can't break bread! Well, technically when you serve it, you're breaking it, but that's a different definition entirely!" He tossed another piece to the ducks.

[OOC: Sure thing!]

"But what did they do with the cranberry sauce?" asked Drusilla. "Did anybody eat it all up? The turkeys can take care of themselves, but can the prisoners?"

"It went all squishy." If she'd been talking to Spike or Angelus, she'd have added 'almost like eyeballs.'

She sighed sadly and tossed another piece to the ducks instead. If there were a carnivorous duck, she'd be happier.

[OOC: It's a busy day at work, so I won't really have time to play until tonight. Does that work for you?]

OOC: Oh, it works perfectly for me! Cool!

"I believe the cranberry sauce was taken in as evidence." Tick wasn't sure that there was any cranberry sauce, but that's what would happen if there was any. "I think the turkeys are in a more secure wing of the prison where they can be better watched, so I wouldn't worry about the other prisoners, either."

"Squishy bread isn't a problem! It tastes just like regular bread! It's just... squishier."

He tossed another piece of bread. He sure was glad he took out all of those carnivorous ducks a while ago.

[OOC: I'm here whenever you're ready.]

"Then everything's lovely and we shall have pie for dessert," said Drusilla. She looked at Tick curiously. "Do you like whipped cream to top it with?"

"But I don't want to eat the bread." Drusilla pouted at him when she realized he was the mean person responsible for getting rid of the pretty, carnivorous ducks.

"Whipped cream on pie?" Tick pondered. "Hmm... If pie is Justice, then whipped cream on top would be... Right? Right! Yes, whipped cream is the perfect topping!"

"Isn't the bread for the ducks?"

Drusilla blinked. She looked at Tick. She wondered what Justice would taste like. Then she remembered that they were in public, and besides, she didn't think she'd like the taste of blue spandex anyway. "You could have pumpkin pie and then apple pie."

"Yes," said Drusilla, tearing off another piece and throwing it at the ducks. "But what if they don't like it squishy either?"

She wondered if carnivorous ducks would try to nibble at her fingers, and whether it would tickle or not.

Tick noticed Drusilla looking at him kind of weird. It was moderately unsettling. "Err, yes. Two pies for dessert!" The enthusiasm wasn't quite there because he was weirded out too much by that look.

"If they don't like it squishy, then I figure they'll let us know. Either they won't eat it, or they might tell us. You never know around here."

"Pie with ice cream that gets all melty," said Drusilla. "I like dessert the best."

"Do you think the ducks talk?" asked Drusilla. She looked out at the pond. "Do you like the bread? Did you want to come and play?"

"I'm sure some of the ducks here talk. Honestly, I'd be surprised if they didn't!"

"Have you talked to one?" asked Drusilla. "Asked it questions and had it answer?"

"Well, one tried to sell me insurance one day, but he could only say one word." Tick gave a look that indicated that the duck probably had an annoying voice, too.

Dream does leave campus. Really. Sometimes.

Tonight he is taking a walk to clear his head and passes through the park.

"Hello, Professor," he says cordially. "How is Lockheed?"

"Hello, Professor Dream!" Tick said, somewhat surprised to see him off campus. "Lockheed was doing just fine before I left for The City! I hear he's been okay over the past week, but I haven't seen him yet. I just arrived back in town."

"Lockheed is a special animal," Dream says. "It pleases me that he is doing well. Tell him I said hello."

He jams his hands in his pockets. "What did you do in The City?"

"I'll tell him as soon as I get back!"

Tick switched his dufflebag from his right shoulder to his left. After about eight hours with it on that side, his right arm was falling asleep. "I had to thwart the evil plans of an elderly supervillain. He had mutated, millitant turkeys and everything!"

"Militant ... turkeys," Dream says. He sounds almost amused. "I went home. It was quiet."

"Ah, quiet. I wouldn't know what to do with quiet in The City." Tick looked honestly lost as he tried to ponder that. After a moment, he smiled. "It must have been nice."

"It's odd, my employees -- they do such a good job of running the place without me, I almost feel .... not superfluous, but as though my main work has been done. It is almost disappointing at times, but not un-nice."

"You must miss The City."

"I do, especially with all the stuff that's happened here. It's weird. I'm so in charge of the situation there. I can't think of the last time a civillian was even injured on my watch. I miss being able to pull that off, to be honest," Tick said sadly. "But you do what you can!" He didn't sound completely convinced by this.

"We all do," Dream says somberly. "And you must be very good at what you do, to protect so many."

He raises a hand, as though realizing he has revealed more of himself than he meant to. "I'll see you on campus. Goodnight."

"Thank you, Professor. And you have a good night yourself, chum!"

Tick wasn't sure why, but that conversation made him feel better. Of course, his arm was still asleep, and that was annoying. It was all... tingly.

He went back on his way toward campus after he could once again move his fingers without the tingly sensation.

[OOC: I couldn't resist having a body coincidentally part fall asleep while Tick talked to Dream. The idea just amused me far too much. :)]

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The Park, Tuesday evening

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