serious-face

vdistinctive


What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.


big bird-face
Eliot Spencer vdistinctive
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Office hours, Wednesday
It was a pretty average day of office hours for Eliot, throwing some darts and sorting through some paperwork while Val took a nap on the spare office chair. Until a scrabbling noise in the vents had both Val and Eliot sitting up at attention.

The grate over the vent slammed open and a gremlin in an extremely dusty backwards baseball cap came bursting out of it with a roar. It dodged past Val, ignoring her barking, made straight for Eliot, and managed to sink its teeth into his forearm before he could do more than shout at it. The gremlin then leaped atop Eliot's desk, its green scaly fists raised in a triumphant V, did a victory dance on top of it, and bolted for the vent on the far wall while Val gave chase, scattering papers and office supplies everywhere. The gremlin made it back into the safety of the ventilation shaft, its grembros cheering and slapping it congratulatorily on the back, and Val barked a final warning at it before turning concerned eyes back towards her person.

Eliot stared back at her, eyes equally wide, his hand clamped over his faintly bleeding forearm.

"Wow!" he said finally, and grinned. "That little guy sure was green, huh!"

Val cocked her head, confused, then gave a little puppy shrug and trotted over for some petting. Her person was in a good mood! Who was she to argue?

"How many paperclips do you suppose there are here?" Eliot Big Bird asked. "Let's fine out. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3. . . ."

[so today I get to spend my morning doing a rather specialized job I haven't even had to think about in a little less than a year. TIME FOR A GREMLIN BITE. Open!]

"What the hell man?!" Hardison demanded, slamming into Eliot's office. "The fuck is this? Syrup rain? Seriously? Seriously?"

Val immediately ran over to greet Hardison and lick any syrup up off his shoes for him. Big Bird looked up from his paper clip counting. "Oh hi there!" he greeted happily. "Golly, you sure are a grouch, aren't you? Sometimes the weather is bad, but that's okay, it just means we can have fun inside."

"Val, you probably shouldn't..." Hardison stopped and looked at Eliot. What? Wasn't he going to order Val away, in case the syrup was dangerous to her? "...Wait, what kinda indoor fun are you thinkin' of?"

That wasn't even so much of a come on as it was confusion. Eliot's ideas of 'indoor fun' were pretty limited.

"Well, right now I'm counting paperclips," Big Bird said. Counting was loads of fun. "But there's also board games and story time and drawing and singalongs and maybe even a video if it's okay with your parent or guardian."

"..."

This was so incredibly weird.

"Yeah. Countin'. That's a whole lotta--yo, babe, your arm. Is that blood? Lemme see that." Eliot wasn't the type to just let his injuries sit without treating them.

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Bob walked through the wall, eyes back over his shoulder toward the outside. "Some days it's rather nice to be incorporeal."

Edited at 2015-07-01 04:59 pm (UTC)

Big Bird clapped. "Gosh, that's a neat trick, Mister!"

Bob eyed Eliot dubiously. "Are you ill?"

"I don't think so," Big Bird said. "Let me check." And he pressed his hand to his forehead thoughtfully, then looked himself over, completely ignoring the no-longer bleeding but still clearly visible bite mark on his arm. "I don't have a fever. And I'm not feeling sleepy, and my tummy feels okay, and my feathers are nice and bright. I'd say I'm a perfectly healthy bird!"

"Your...feathers. Because you're a bird." Bob eyed him skeptically, then caught the bite mark. "Right. Well, that's definitely good to know. So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out catching worms to eat or something?"

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There was singing from Eliot's office Not the usual singing, either.

"Whatcha up to?"

Big Bird looked up from where he was singing about the alphabet. "Well hi there! I was just singing about the alphabet! Would you like to join me?"

When you were a giant six year old canary, life tended to be pretty straightforward.

"...sure. Have you been drinking?" Not that she'd turn down singing. "A B C D, E F G..."

"No. I am a little thirsty, though." Big Bird looked around the room a little, drumming his fingers on the desk. "Is there any water in here? Or, oh! I could really go for some birdseed!"

"...water yes, birdseed...?" She could find some, maybe? Also, Eliot's voice was different. "Hang on!"

She returned through the window with a mug of water, and asked, "What do you need the birdseed for?"

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