Damaia (i_cast) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-08-16 20:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | baba yaga, baba's cabin, bad moon |
Said one angry bird to another...(narrative)
"Get off my car, you damn bird!"
"That is not yours!"
"Shit, watch out! It's angry!"
"But that is not....argh!"
"Call a medic!"
"Call a priest!"
"Call mother loving KFC!"
After her visit with the doctor turned polar bear, the crone thought it was wise to finally check in on her wayward cabin. She'd gone to the Park and was a little surprised to not see anything resembling a rather large chicken, or even a cabin with chicken legs. No, all she saw were animals chasing humans, humans chasing animals, animals chasing animals, and a whole lot of large chicken legless Park. Had the damn thing actually left the Park?
Baba Yaga decided to turn her search from the Park to places close by, and she called out to it. She didn't say anything, but there was this pull at something inside. It was how the cabin new where she was and how she knew where it was. Only, it felt different now, and there was still no cabin. She was beginning to think something had happened to the stupid thing when she'd heard the shouting, the angry voices.
The old crone didn't care for surprises, certainly not ones that meant she was going to have to fix something, or to fight, or anything that demanded she take action in the unpleasant sense of action. Needless to say, she did not like the surprise or shock of seeing what she knew as her cabin sitting in a strange nest it had built around a few white cars it had obviously claimed and was probably thinking were its eggs. The thing was rather aggressively protecting its nest, pecking at anyone who thought it was getting to close.
She walked up slowly, brow raised. Her hair still damp from the swim. The oversized chicken shifted a little on its "eggs" as it watched her approach. There was some hint of preening, and some hint of fluffing - one suggested that the chicken wanted to look good for its mistress, the other that the chicken was ready to fight for what it wanted, mainly its eggs and its nest.
"Really? You have decided to be a mother? You're not ...you..they aren't..." Being at a loss for words was rare. Her lips thinned as she looked up at the big bird, and had half a mind to stomp her foot, which would have been childish. "You. Are. Not. A. Chicken. You will come here at once, and you will stop acting so ridiculously." Her tone said that she was not going to argue with the large bird. The bird didn't care. It was going to hatch these shiny eggs.
"Come here." The chicken didn't move. "You will come here now." It still wasn't moving. The crone walked determinedly over and reached up, and before she could do anything, grab a feather, cast a spell, smack the damn thing, the chicken lashed out and pecked her, creating a rather unattractive gash along her arm. Eric had possibly gotten off easier than the small woman.
"You!" She was hurt, and once more shocked. It was all she could do to keep from blasting the damn thing into pieces. She felt the fire of rage burning inside her, an anger that ate at her, flames licked at her insides. And rather than lashing out at the large chicken that should have been a cabin on chicken legs, the crone exploded in a large fireball. The chicken was singed as it was smart enough to move when it felt its mistress anger. The windows burst, car alarms went off, and there were possibly a few people who were now extra crispy.
Within the rubble and the ash, there was a burst of color that shot up into the night sky and landed on a ledge somewhere, near some poor soul's balcony. The figure looked into the reflection from a nearby window, blinking.
"Shit. I'm going to kill that cabin."
The young woman who had been sitting on the balcony blinked as the firebird flew from the ledge, leaving what looked like trails of fire behind it, perhaps its tail or true fire.