Furnado Animal Shelter; Thursday [12/06].

[hashtag_chocobro]

It was kind of nice, really, that it seemed the birds outside were in a musical mood, giving Prompto a little extra bounce in his step as he made his way over to the shelter that day, for the shift that he'd switched with Sidon so Sidon could go get his romance on. It was a small sacrifice to make for love, really, even if Prompto was pretty sure this was only going to set an impossible-to-reach precident for anyone else in the woo-ing market. He made himself feel better, too, by convincing himself that Yang probably wasn't into all that over-the-top mushy stuff anyway, right? Not when there could be sweet motorcycle dates where Prompto pretty much spent the whole time clinging to her and seeing his life flash before his eyes.

"Oh, hey," he grinned a little when he came into the shelter and heard the birds inside singing the same song that the ones outside had been twittering. "You guys know this song, too?"

And he even joined in a bit, as best he could, considering he didn't know it, but it seemed easy enough and it was catchy, too.

Until it kept going.

And going.

And going.

"Ohmygod," Prompto groaned at one point, before going to pester the vet about giving him some cotton balls to shove in his ears, "why won't they sto~o~oppp?"

Ohhh, you owed him big time for this one, you stupid, charming, perfect shark prince!

Furnado is open!

Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center

[seriesofbaddecisions]

Today was a day where Sabine was very glad she worked indoors. The birds had been fun at first and now she needed them to stop.

And while inside, when she had downtime, she'd brought in pencils and was coloring in some potential hair looks. Apparently this was where all her bored restlessness over the past few months was heading, and it was about time for it, really. She already felt better coming up with ideas, actually.


[Open, no OCD as am in long line at Starbucks.]

Syndulla Scrap, Thursday

[chirpchirpchirp]

The singing birds had been novel when Vette had made her way to the scrapyard. Honest. It still wasn't so cold out that she'd be looking for things to do inside, and the enthusiastic chirping of the local fauna was actually almost charming.

After a while, as she attempted to inventory some more scrap, Vette wondered if maybe this was just a very long song.

After an hour, she was seriously contemplating if pulling out her blaster and taking pot shots at them would get them to at least go sing somewhere else. Even the chompy bits of metal were clearly annoyed, snapping at any bird that happened to perch on the rim of their pen, and Vette might have conveniently turned her back for a moment as the almost-tame-one got dangerously close to jumping up and dragging one down, sharklike, in a fit of snappy metal rage.

To her credit, she managed to get two hours of work in before retreating into the scrapyard's office. Any longer than that out there and she was pretty sure she could make a decent case for murder if anyone complained.

[OOC: Open!]

Atlas Gym, Thursday Late Morning

[firstofitskind]

Liam's mood today was... well, 'melancholy' was perhaps the right word for it. He'd tried going for a run earlier in the morning, but the caroling birds had kind of thrown a wrench in those plans. Oh, the song had been nice enough at first, but it didn't stop.

So, to the gym it was, where there was a notable lack of birds and he could do some tai chi in (relative) peace. He was steadfastly ignoring the faint peppermint smell that still clung to the wooden practice weapons, however.

[ooc: it's my weekend and i'm bored, so a post!]

T42 - Thursday 6am-6pm

[hernando_fuentes]

The store was still decorated and festive for Hanukkah. It appeared they would be going the full holiday. Hernando was a little pleased by this.

He wasn't so pleased to find they now had a sound system. It was playing soft classical music of a non-holiday bent and that wasn't so bad. It was simply more noise than he was used to having in his quiet shop.

The reason why sang at him when he stepped outside to wipe down the outside seating. The sun was warm but the air had more of a damp chill than he was used to. The first few moments of 'Carol of the Bells' were quite nice but then the sheer number of birds chirping the song in a round became a little sinister. Hernando quickly went back inside.

The sign was curiously blank. That took him aback. "Are you well?" he asked, touching it gently on the handle. It made no noise. Not even a soft rattle. Hernando picked it up and took it behind the counter with him.

A mug of tea made him feel better while he set out pastries, waiting for customers and listening to Mozart.

[Open]

The Park, Thursday Night

[meepmeepmeep]

If you learned that somehow Beaker had managed to end up in an endless loop of singing Carol of the Bells with the birds, complete with a giant cathedral bell falling out of nowhere to land on him every single time, well, you wouldn't be very surprised, would you?

Come enjoy the music, anyway!