Peter Eastwood ♬ The Pied Piper (hypnopipes) wrote in marchenlogs, @ 2012-01-27 22:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | little red riding hood, pied piper |
WHO: Peter & Jane
WHAT: Discussion between neighbors
WHERE: Jane's apartment
WHEN: Jan, 27. Late afternoon
WARNINGS: Peter likes to drop f-bombs.
Peter didn't start off life hating pigeons. Until a couple a months ago he barely paid any attention to the grey birds but then they started paying attention to him. It took a while for the flutist to notice but when he busked or played outside or near open windows birds started to flock to him. Peter thought it was funny at first. Play a little music and watch the birds gather. Completely harmless but then it got weird. What had started with just a few birds had grown to the point that Peter had whole flocks showing up when he played the flute. Pigeons were the worst, nasty little birds in his opinion and he had gotten shat on more times than Peter cared to recall. However, that wasn't the worst that had happened to Peter when it came to pigeons.
Right before Christmas Peter had been practicing with the window open in his old apartment when they swooped in. A flurry of pigeons filled his small little shared bedroom, feathers and bird shit going everywhere while Peter and his roommates tried to get them out. A absolute mess and though they didn't say so Peter was certain the pigeon fiasco was part of the reason his 'friends' had kicked him out. He'd be damned if that happened here at Marchen Heights. No, Peter was not getting kicked out over fucking pigeons again and to ensure that he needed to have a talk with his neighbor in 308. Feeding the winged rats was only going to encourage the beasts to stay around.
Peter was too irritated to bother getting cleaned up to see the neighbor and left his apartment dressed in a baggy washed out t-shirt, the jeans he wore yesterday and socks. Shoes weren't bothered with, it was only next door and he wasn't planning on staying long. Just long enough to tell 308 off. He rapped his knuckles against the hardwood door loudly, his sock covered foot tapping against the floor. "Hey 308! I want to fucking talk to you!"