milliways_bar | (no subject)

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He's as sober as he ever is, this first day of the Games, with the somewhat wavering hope that at least one of his kids will make it out of the first five minutes. Still, he isn't above ducking into the bar that can delay the inevitable for a little while longer.

For a long moment, he wonders if someone slipped something into his latest drink. He's making his cautious way to the bar when a screen appears in front of him.

From the smirk on his face, he doesn't expect anything to happen.

That'd be why the jackal yelps in surprise a moment later.

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Ha! It's the first time today that she's actually caught someone as they're making their decision and transforming, so she knows who this is!

It's... rather exciting, to be honest, to know who you're meeting beforehand. Sunshine suspects the puppy she gave scritches to earlier today was a friend of hers, though she doesn't know who. She's also met a tree, another bird (who turned out to be rather angry) and eluded a hungry cat. A very full day - but... good. It's simpler, being a bird. There're no worries about morality, when you're in flight. No fears that one's hands might taint what they touch, when your hands are wings. That sort of... simplicity is missing from her everyday life. Haymitch is one of the club - he understands.

So there is a tiny, jewel-bright bird, barely bigger than a hummingbird, darting down to perch on the tines of a fork, upright in a nearby silverware-holder on the bar. The Sunshine sings a friendly greeting - or what she feels is a friendly greeting - at the surprise!jackal. "Tiu tiu tiu tiu!"

So first he's a... he doesn't know what he is, he wasn't properly paying attention, and now the damn bird mutts are back.

Well, he knows what to do about that, right?

The jackal makes a flying leap to attempt to make a birdy snack.

Well that was unexpected. The bird shoots up into the air, hovering carefully out of reach, chittering loudly in surprise down at the jackal.

Oh crud, he doesn't know it's her, does he? Rae doesn't know much about jackals, but she didn't think they ate birds.

He circles, his eyes fixed on that bright bit of feathery fluff. There's no way now he's going to back down.

He still carries a few grudges from his Games, even now.

Well shit. What should she do? First off, she has to let him know that she's normally human. Somehow. How to do this, how to do this?

There's a patron nearby, considering their choices at their vidscreen. The tiny bird zooms over to perch on the upper edge of the screen, and pecks at it (ignoring the surprise of the person whose vidscreen it is). Her meaning may or may not be clear. Vidscreen, Haymitch; people uses them to change shapes. She did the same thing as him - she's no more normally a bird than he is a jackal.

It's going after a person! He snarls (and is somewhat disappointed at how un-impressive this sounds - figures he'd pick a puny sort of mutt) and charges.

A split-second before the jackal reaches the vidscreen, the bird takes off (There may be a mutter of "Fucking Milliways" from the nearby patron). It hovers a moment, out of reach, wondering which way to go. Wait - maybe it's still there... maybe he'll understand.

The bird takes off towards the fireplace.

The bird has a jackal in hot pursuit, occasionally making flying leaps to attempt to bring and bring that bird down.

More than one person may end up with a lap full of scrambling jackal.

There's a glint of metallic golden-yellow on the coffee table, from her earlier meeting with Urquhart. Thankfully, it hadn't been cleaned up in the intervening time.

The sunbird dives down to snatch up in its beak the large piece of confetti shaped like a stylized sun, before launching into the air again, hovering at a safe height and hoping Haymitch can see it. Sunbird, Sunshine.

Bird trying to make a nest?

There's gonna be more of those things?

Yeah,that didn't calm him down one tiny little bit.

She hovers well out of reach, darting this way and that, trying to get him to see what she's holding. The glinting golden sun is actually wider than her body, in this form. She's only ten centimeters long, in any case, her wingspan a similar measure.

There is chittering going on - as the bird is clearly not fleeing, or flying off to add the bit of shiny to a nest - as she tries to get him to put it together. Who else does he know who is only ever in bright colors, associated with the sun?

His capitol handler?

He bolts up onto the nearest table to make another attempt at the bird - it's just taunting him now, birdie fiend that it is.

Though one can bet he's never seen his capitol handler at Milliways, nor is she associated with the sun.

The bird flies up to perch on the lip of a vase on the fireplace mantle, chittering frustratedly at the jackal and turning the golden metallic sun this way and that. Sunshine, Haymitch! Sunshine! Not food. Not... whatever he thinks she is.

He paces restlessly in front of the mantle, glancing up at the bird every few seconds. Go on singing, birdie. He's trying to figure out how the heck to get up there.

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