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[changeinasnap]

Here's the thing about PETA protestors.

While you're, oh, for example, standing in the middle of the street naked except for a strategically placed picture of a pygmy owl, you are not doing any favors to the owl. You are associating the owl with your junk. Do you think this rare, almost extinct owl that you claim will be killed by deforestation in the Yukon really wants to be associated with your junk? Really?

Because if so, that's just rude. Almost as rude as the things you shouted at your girlfriend (another living creature that's way sweeter than any owl) right before you headed off to the protest.

And if there's one guy you don't want to be rude around? It's this one.

In other words, there's a trickster at the bar trying to feed a pygmy owl -- who was not a pygmy owl about fifteen minutes ago -- a slice of pie. Because unlike some people, he is not rude to owls and will give them all the food they need. So there.



[OOC: Woe! (And whoa, that's a lot of threads. *giggling*) It is, sadly, time for me to go sleep. Everything will be picked up tomorrow barring con crud knocking me flat; thanks for tagging in, guys. <3]

Comments

[forewarned_is]

"I don't think owls eat pie."

There's an amused goddess of destruction sliding onto the barstool next to him.

[changeinasnap]

"Maybe not." Peaceable. "But it's hilarious."

From the panicked look the owl shoots her, it seems it disagrees.

[forewarned_is]

She tilts her head, examining the owl.

(Usually owls are not so much on the receiving end of this sort of look.)

"Anybody special?"

[changeinasnap]

"Ah, just some protestor up in Seattle," he says with an airy wave of the hand. "He wanted to commune with the weak and the voiceless, I'm just giving him a hand!"

Seriously, he is the very picture of charity. Just look at that face.

[forewarned_is]

Kali's smile is half genuine amusement and half indulgence: you think you're so clever.

"How long do you plan on leaving him like this?"

The owl's eyes, if possible, widen even further as it swivels its head back toward the trickster.

[not_his_pa]

William tries not to stare as he's limping by and decides its better to just ask,

"Are you feedin' that owl pie, sir?"

[changeinasnap]

"No, I'm giving it a lap dance." Deadpan.

The owl makes a high-pitched, strangled sound and squinches its eyes shut.

(What do you know: OH GOD I NEED BRAIN BLEACH can be conveyed across the species divide!)

[not_his_pa]

Considering the sound the owl makes, William is glad he doesn't know what that means,

"Just never seen an owl eat pie was all, sir, sorry."

[changeinasnap]

"Nah, you don't gotta apologize," he says, waving the fork (and unintentionally scattering a few crumbs of crust in the process). "Just remember, young grasshopper: you can ask a stupid question sometimes."

He pops the forkful of pie into his own mouth.

"Anyway, always glad to expand the horizons of the clientele."

[no_vampires_plz]

"You know owls don't eat pie, right?" remarks a passing unicorn.

[changeinasnap]

"Of course I do," he says, mock-indignant, as he proceeds to offer another forkful of pie to the owl.

The owl scoots back, swivels its head toward the voice, and stares at said unicorn.

[no_vampires_plz]

Twilight isn't fussed by the owl staring at her. Owls tend to do that.

"Then why are you feeding it pie." It's not exactly a question.

[changeinasnap]

"Because everyone should get to try Bar's pie!"

Beat.

Casually, "That, and it's not an owl. But mostly it's because Bar's pie is awesome. So hey, with the -- "

He mimes the horn on her forehead.

"Am I going to burst into flames if I touch you?"

[creator_raven]

There is a thump to his left, as a black-feathered bundle drops from the rafters and turns into a beautiful princess.

Or, you know, a woman in a black coat and dusty jeans.

She snorts. It is not a delicate sound.

"Possibly cookies are for being better, yes?"

This might be a rhetorical question.

Or a lie.

Or both!

[changeinasnap]

He cocks an eyebrow. "We could always try both," he suggests. "Got any?"

The owl hunkers down further onto the bartop. If it could, that posture says, it would like to melt into the wood and leave forever. Please. Right now.

[creator_raven]

Raven wrinkles her nose.

"That, I am thinking, is a very silly question."

It only takes a flick of a wrist to send a tiny feather-shaped cookie hurtling toward the owl.

Maybe the owl will get lucky and it will be a magic cookie.

But probably not.

[changeinasnap]

Poor owl. Its life is so hard.

With a tiny screech befitting of its size, it flaps its wings to try and get out of the path of the hurtling cookie. Sadly, it doesn't move quite fast enough.

Bap, goes the cookie, lodging rights in its beak mid-screech.

[sidhe_king]

"Really, now, you needn't torture the poor thing."

Fin is watching the owl lazily--yes, he's aware owls don't eat pie, and he's even more aware that it being here and looking the kind of terrified that it does, it's likely not originally an owl--contemplating whether he should be lobbying to have the man change it back or to let Fin help with the force-feeding of pie.

"At least give it a meat pie, not apple. Heavens."

[changeinasnap]

"But where's the fun in that?" he asks, wide-eyed, as he glances up at Fin. "I'm just giving it a chance to explore the culinary delights of Milliways. Bar makes a great apple pie."

[sidhe_king]

"You deny there's fun in force-feeding an owl any kind of pie?" Fin asks, eyebrow raised. "So what, pray tell, did the wee mite do to deserve this?"

Pardon him while he extends a finger and, crooking it, rubs the top of the owl's head deceptively gently. (The narration can't say he's the kinder of these two men, not really. At least the Trickster will likely not kill it or maim it beyond repair. Fin...could really not care less once the animal ceases amusing him.)

[changeinasnap]

Hey! Hey, now! Invasion of personal oh wait that actually feels kind of nice.

The owl's eyes shutter closed, and it hunkers down a bit as its feathers fluff up. If it were a cat, it'd probably be purring right about now.

"Eh." He wiggles a hand. "Nothing anybody but him needs to worry about. See?" That's to the owl. "I keep your secrets."

For now, is the very heavy implication.

[forgottenmotley]

A Fool for the Trickster?

"What sort of pie is that?" the Fool asks, completely un-phased at the fact that an owl is being fed pie. Why shouldn't an owl eat pie?

[changeinasnap]

Exactly! See, this is a man after his own heart.

"Apple pie, fresh from the bar," he says, grinning. "Ever had it?"

For the umpteenth time, the owl tries to dodge away from the proffered fork.

[forgottenmotley]

"I have not." And so he helps himself to some of it. Because clearly the gentleman must have offered it. If he hadn't why did he ask?

"Your friend does not seem to like you."

[changeinasnap]

"Hey hey hey whoa." The plate gets snatched away, and the Fool gets a meaningful eyebrow raise. "My pie. No touchy."

Beat.

"Okay, my pie and his pie," he says with a tip of his fork toward the owl.