044 x 440 // video // four calling birds

[dignity_misery]

I guess it's my turn.

[Well, hello City. Carla is sitting on the floor, watching Peanut shake... something. The puppy is really enjoying himself, growling and yipping in high trills that are far from intimidating.]

A year isn't much, I know some of you have been here longer. I think the tradition is to complain about it, but...

[Finally, she reaches over to take the thing from Peanut. It's a bird. And those who've known her all this year long might recognize a barbet when they see one. Carla smiles lazily.]

I'm fine with staying. Come here, Peanut.

Comments

[dignity_misery]

[Haaaah.]

I like it here.

[brobeforehos]

It's not so bad.

[dignity_misery]

But you'd rather go home.

[She shrugs, letting go of Peanut because he's starting to squirm and complain about this teeth brushing thing.]

[brobeforehos]

I miss my brother. I miss the Market.

[A pause.] Raves, too. The City just doesn't throw them like they should be thrown.

[dignity_misery]

[Oh Mae.]

You haven't been to the right raves. Should I chaperon you?

[brobeforehos]

What do you know?

[dignity_misery]

My guests don't get eaten, you'll be alright.

[brobeforehos]

[Laughs a little.] That's one hell of a selling point, I'll tell you that.