[Huff. Well, fine. She takes the hand he offers gladly and flops down on the edge next to him for another breather.]
Yeah, it's just... [The prospect of Saving Recolle seems a little stale now that it involves so much work... no, that's not the spirit at all. She pushes herself (begrudgingly) to her feet, ready to tackle the second half of the stairs.] No, you're right! Let's do this! But also, maybe we could bring a pillow or something to slide down on our way back?
Um. [It sounds stupid. But fun.] That would make it faster.
[Time is of the essence if they are to take on the responsibility of stopping Jim. Heroes of the people cannot take long breaks. They have to keep moving.]
We're halfway there. We can make it. [With her enthusiasm and his leadership, they can get through anything!]
Yes! We can do it! [and then later they can take a faster, more fun, less labor intensive route back down!
Newly inspired by the idea of stair surfing their way back to the car in victory, she throws herself back into the climb. Finally, finally, they reach the top (Tuuri still a little further behind Mohammed...)]
[Mohammed, on the other hand, collapses onto the floor, holding himself up by his forearms. He's had enough of exercise for today. He wants to rest. But Tuuri is here and he's look ridiculous taking a break lying face flat on the floor.
No, for the sake of his dignity, he must stand.
He stands, still out of breath.] Okay. My room is the first door on the left. [On the right is a small reading room, where the bird cage is tucked away in a corner. They're quiet after their afternoon nap and before their owner returns from work]
[No, that's fine, Tuuri is perfectly happy to take a break lying face down on the floor...! But damn, Mohammed is standing up already, guess she has to haul herself to her feet too...]
To the left. Got it. [she pants, leaning over and bracing her arms on her knees as she rests for just a moment. She looks up, ready to follow him, when she catches a glimpse of the room to the right.] Ooh, what's in there? [she asks, with the good sense to keep her voice down.] Is that a cage?
Just some books and-- [Oh. Oh, that's where the budgies are. Tuuri is going to see the birds and wonder who owns them and Mohammed will have to admit that he plays with them regularly--
One of them, a blue budgie with black markings, spots the intruder. It chirps loudly.]
...Yes. [He stands in the middle of the hallway, right between his room and the cage.] They're mine. [He adds quickly.]
[Unfortunately for Mohammed, Tuuri is immediately distracted by the birds.] Aww, they're so cute! [Finally, she can say that truthfully about one of his pets.] What are their names? I didn't realize they were so... big-looking, now that we're tiny.
That's Prince. [Because his coloring is closest to purple. It looks purple in a certain angle.
Another hops into view, expecting their owner to pay attention to them.] That one's Micheal. Whitney is the yellow one. Richie is probably in his house.
[They loom over the Mohammed and Tuuri and chirp in unison. They continue chirping, louder and rapidly, chanting their demand for affection and to warn each other of the newcomer.]
Hold on, they're hungry. [It's not certain, but Mohammed wants to be certain.] And I've been gone all day.
[He walks to the side of the table, where a large birdseed bag is conveniently leaning against a leg. He steps onto a bulge in the bag and grips the plastic.]
[She automatically starts to follow him into the room before she hears that last comment; she freezes in place, looking up into their beady, enormous eyes.]
Ahaha, yeah. Um. You feed them, and... let me know if you need help! Or when it's safe to come help you! Good birdies.
[Going through the same motions from this morning, Mohammed takes off his sweater, scoops up a sweaterfull of birdseed, and hoists it over his shoulder. He has punched the bag into a better ramp after breakfast, so there's no terrifying leap of faith at the top, just a very tall step to climb over.]
I'm home! [He waves an arm.] I brought you dinner!
[He...sound very cheerful. Different from how Tuuri has seen him speak before. Even though she can't see his face, she can just feel him smiling as he opens the cage door and steps in.]
Sorry Richie, there's no grapes today. I was too busy to get any. [The birds abandon staring at Tuuri and flock to the bottom of the cage. They poke Mohammed as he pours the birdseed into its container.] Whitney, cut it out. I'm too small to bite. [He laughs and pets his youngest bird. Whitney is a good baby. She's soft. Easy to pet at this size.]
[This sure is... an interesting side to Mohammed. He's talking to the birds like he's a mom. She's so busy staring after this honestly strange, if adorable, scene that it takes her a moment to realize that the birds have (finally) stopped looking at her as if they wanted to peck her open. Tentatively, she takes a few steps further into the room, eyes still trained on Mohammed laughing and cuddling his bird.]
Aww, they like you so much! [Wait. Terrible idea.] Hey, is there any chance of you getting a ride on the birds...?
[Another bird cuddles under his free arm, and he slips his arm around to give both of his children a hug. Maybe being small won't be so bad.
...Tuuri is here. He forgot all about that. His eyes snap open and lets go of his birds.]
Yes. I spend time each day looking after them. [He's cool. He's a cool, mature guy despite what Tuuri just saw.]...And they're too small to ride. We're about their size.
["They're too small" is probably the sensible pet owner response, but Tuuri can't help but picture them making it work, somehow. Surely they could just straddle them and ride them like dragons through the air, or something? At least Tuuri's fixated on this and not how downright moe Mohammed is being right now.]
Oh well. It was worth a try. [The birds do look enviably cuddly... but she's still convinced she'd get a peck in the face if she tried to touch them.] Are they friendly?
[Or tie them up to half a cardboard box and ride around on a budgie chariot.
It would be incredible.]
Mostly. Whitney is good with people, Prince is more aggressive, Micheal's shy, and Richie prefers interacting with the other birds. [He scratches the top of Michael's head.] They won't hurt you if you don't scare them.
Mmm... [She really wants to go up and try playing with Whitney at least, but she stares up what she'd have to climb to get up there, and her legs twitch in protest even thinking about it.]
Ahaha, maybe on the way back. If that's okay. Or maybe when we're big again. [They're definitely going to be big again, so it's not a problem, right?] I think I have to sit down first, haha...
[and sit she does, to rest for as long as she can before Mohammed finishes up with the birds.]
[He might stay here forever if he didn't have anything important to do. You appreciate pets a lot more when you shrink and getting to your room is a workout in of itself.
Farewell, budgies, he will see you in the morning.
They chirp after him when he pulls the cage door open and steps out. If - maybe when - they get big again, he's going to make up for his neglect the entire weekend.]
Are you tired? [The birdseed bag goes thwump when he jumps onto it, and Mohammed slips the rest of the way to the floor, fortunately stumbling and not tripping onto his face.]
Yes. [she says bluntly, though she sighs and (reluctantly) pushes herself up.] But I want to drop the pictures off with the police and save everything, so I'll be okay! I can push through it!
I'll repay you once we're done, I promise. [Because he needs a treat, too. He's ready to collapse on his bed and sleep. The call of duty and justice are all that keeps him going.
He walks past Tuuri and into his room, which is just as neat as she would expect it to be, apart from the not-so-made bed. Drawers shut (he remembered to push them when he was done dressing), noting on the carpet, bookshelf organized, desk clean.]
On my desk. I tried to get on the chair this morning, but I was too short to reach it.
[Justice cannot rest, and neither can they. Mohammed's room is not a surprise, though she takes a moment to appreciate that they aren't going to her room to pick up a collection of photographs, or she'd be pretty embarrassed.
The chair is a problem, though. You know what would have been a good solution to this problem? RIDING A BIRD CHARIOT UP TO THE DESK.] Hmm... do you mind if we pile the books up to reach the seat? We can probably climb up the back once we're there.
They're...heavy, but we can try. [Because guess who keeps hardcover history books on the bottom shelf like an asshole? This guy.] I have paperback books on the third shelf if we need any.
[He's sure most of them are smart people literature. Nothing embarrassing. His reputation will be safe.]
[Man Mohammed, who arranges their bedroom without thinking about how easy it would be for a 6 inch tall person to navigate? Serious oversight here.
Tuuri looks up at the heavy, thick history books that are taller than she is-- ooh, that one looks pretty interesting, she should ask to take a look at it once they're regular size again-- but concedes that he has a point.] Mm, I think we might squish ourselves if we try to move that one, but... I can try to climb up onto the third shelf and toss a few down? I-If you don't mind.
[She realizes that she is suggesting that she throw someone else's books to the ground, which is probably the rudest thing she's said all day, so she follows that up with a quick] --But if you do mind it's totally okay! I can keep going and try to jump to the desk instead! Or we could try to throw a rope to the desktop and climb across it like in a spy movie! We don't have to move the books!
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We're not dying yet. There's unfinished business to attend to. [He holds out a hand to help her up once she's close enough.]
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Yeah, it's just... [The prospect of Saving Recolle seems a little stale now that it involves so much work... no, that's not the spirit at all. She pushes herself (begrudgingly) to her feet, ready to tackle the second half of the stairs.] No, you're right! Let's do this! But also, maybe we could bring a pillow or something to slide down on our way back?
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[Time is of the essence if they are to take on the responsibility of stopping Jim. Heroes of the people cannot take long breaks. They have to keep moving.]
We're halfway there. We can make it. [With her enthusiasm and his leadership, they can get through anything!]
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Newly inspired by the idea of stair surfing their way back to the car in victory, she throws herself back into the climb. Finally, finally, they reach the top (Tuuri still a little further behind Mohammed...)]
Yes...!
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No, for the sake of his dignity, he must stand.
He stands, still out of breath.] Okay. My room is the first door on the left. [On the right is a small reading room, where the bird cage is tucked away in a corner. They're quiet after their afternoon nap and before their owner returns from work]
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To the left. Got it. [she pants, leaning over and bracing her arms on her knees as she rests for just a moment. She looks up, ready to follow him, when she catches a glimpse of the room to the right.] Ooh, what's in there? [she asks, with the good sense to keep her voice down.] Is that a cage?
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One of them, a blue budgie with black markings, spots the intruder. It chirps loudly.]
...Yes. [He stands in the middle of the hallway, right between his room and the cage.] They're mine. [He adds quickly.]
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Another hops into view, expecting their owner to pay attention to them.] That one's Micheal. Whitney is the yellow one. Richie is probably in his house.
[They loom over the Mohammed and Tuuri and chirp in unison. They continue chirping, louder and rapidly, chanting their demand for affection and to warn each other of the newcomer.]
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[And loud. She plugs one ear up to try to block out the high-pitched chirping, a lot more intimidating from down here.]
Um, I don't know if they like me either. M-maybe we should keep going.
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[He walks to the side of the table, where a large birdseed bag is conveniently leaning against a leg. He steps onto a bulge in the bag and grips the plastic.]
You can follow once I calm them down.
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Ahaha, yeah. Um. You feed them, and... let me know if you need help! Or when it's safe to come help you! Good birdies.
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I'm home! [He waves an arm.] I brought you dinner!
[He...sound very cheerful. Different from how Tuuri has seen him speak before. Even though she can't see his face, she can just feel him smiling as he opens the cage door and steps in.]
Sorry Richie, there's no grapes today. I was too busy to get any. [The birds abandon staring at Tuuri and flock to the bottom of the cage. They poke Mohammed as he pours the birdseed into its container.] Whitney, cut it out. I'm too small to bite. [He laughs and pets his youngest bird. Whitney is a good baby. She's soft. Easy to pet at this size.]
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Aww, they like you so much! [Wait. Terrible idea.] Hey, is there any chance of you getting a ride on the birds...?
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...Tuuri is here. He forgot all about that. His eyes snap open and lets go of his birds.]
Yes. I spend time each day looking after them. [He's cool. He's a cool, mature guy despite what Tuuri just saw.]...And they're too small to ride. We're about their size.
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Oh well. It was worth a try. [The birds do look enviably cuddly... but she's still convinced she'd get a peck in the face if she tried to touch them.] Are they friendly?
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It would be incredible.]
Mostly. Whitney is good with people, Prince is more aggressive, Micheal's shy, and Richie prefers interacting with the other birds. [He scratches the top of Michael's head.] They won't hurt you if you don't scare them.
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Ahaha, maybe on the way back. If that's okay. Or maybe when we're big again. [They're definitely going to be big again, so it's not a problem, right?] I think I have to sit down first, haha...
[and sit she does, to rest for as long as she can before Mohammed finishes up with the birds.]
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Farewell, budgies, he will see you in the morning.
They chirp after him when he pulls the cage door open and steps out. If - maybe when - they get big again, he's going to make up for his neglect the entire weekend.]
Are you tired? [The birdseed bag goes thwump when he jumps onto it, and Mohammed slips the rest of the way to the floor, fortunately stumbling and not tripping onto his face.]
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He walks past Tuuri and into his room, which is just as neat as she would expect it to be, apart from the not-so-made bed. Drawers shut (he remembered to push them when he was done dressing), noting on the carpet, bookshelf organized, desk clean.]
On my desk. I tried to get on the chair this morning, but I was too short to reach it.
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The chair is a problem, though. You know what would have been a good solution to this problem? RIDING A BIRD CHARIOT UP TO THE DESK.] Hmm... do you mind if we pile the books up to reach the seat? We can probably climb up the back once we're there.
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[He's sure most of them are smart people literature. Nothing embarrassing. His reputation will be safe.]
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Tuuri looks up at the heavy, thick history books that are taller than she is-- ooh, that one looks pretty interesting, she should ask to take a look at it once they're regular size again-- but concedes that he has a point.] Mm, I think we might squish ourselves if we try to move that one, but... I can try to climb up onto the third shelf and toss a few down? I-If you don't mind.
[She realizes that she is suggesting that she throw someone else's books to the ground, which is probably the rudest thing she's said all day, so she follows that up with a quick] --But if you do mind it's totally okay! I can keep going and try to jump to the desk instead! Or we could try to throw a rope to the desktop and climb across it like in a spy movie! We don't have to move the books!
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[And. He might want to read those later. Poor books. At least they are a few years old at most.]
If you're fine with it. Jumping the desk might not be feasible.
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