Welcome to Gaia! ::

Flits was always last, but usually because he had his head stuck in a bird related magazine. It was the tropical issue, which may as well have been the Swimsuit Edition by the way he ogled each and every page. Most other phonies couldn't make heads of tails of him, for the few of them who actually noticed him.

He stopped to adjust the gaudy plastic hairclip that held up his mane. Half of his hair was crimped with experiments in hair styling and streaks of it were in colored, glittering hair gel. Flits N Giggles was a throwback from the 80's and he would have been right at home with leg warmers and fingerless gloves.

"Huh?" Flits looked up from his magazine and noticed Shrill walking towards him. "What dance tonight?"

Flits had been absently walking past all the posters, banners, and flyers taped onto the school walls and lockers to even notice that they'd been up all week. He really didn't take notice of the things going on with the rest of the world.

Being an orphan, he lived in a tree with his friends the birds. People always thought he was joking when he told people he was living in a tree, but in the public gardens there was an enormous oak tree. With some ingenuity and a lot of nails, he'd managed to hide away a small collection of fruit crates that served as his bedroom, kitchen, and living room. He lived with the birds, shared his breakfast with pigeons on his way to school, and borrowed electricity from public recharge stations.

Flits had gotten everything he owned from the donations at the local charity shops. He was too little to keep a real job, so he was constantly on the lookout for an apprenticeship somewhere.

He read the poster nearest him for the first time.

"Bring your best guy or gal," he read aloud. "to the school dance tonight!"

Flits blinked at Shrill. "I'm the best guy?"

"Well, okay," Flits nodded, putting his magazine into this backpack. "But... what's your name? What do I have to do?"

Flits had never been invited to any kind of party, let alone a dance. He'd spend the rest of his evening doing his homework by lamplight. Now that fall was coming he had to spend some of his time knitting things to keep he and his birds warm.

"I gotta go home first to feed my pigeons, or else they get fussy," he noted.

"Super pretty, go to your house," Flits scribbled it onto a bit of newspaper. "Got it!"

He flew straight home to his tree and pondered on what was considered "super pretty". Well, for birds, bright colors were especially attractive to potential mates...

Flits rummaged through a box of miscellaneous gear the nice old ladies at the charity shop gave him. They said it was a "mystery box" of clothes for all occasions, so there had to be something good in there.

It was less than twenty minutes, after sharing a birdbath and preening, that he arrived at Shrill's door with a little present box. His hair was crimped and streaked with three colors of pastel hair gel that glittered with silver flecks. He didn't have anything like a suit or a tie, so he wore the brightest, loudest throwback scarf he could find. It was so large and loose, he had to curl it around his neck and even under his forelegs a few times for it to not drag on the ground.

He wore clip on, blue glittering skull earrings and star shaped hair clips in his mane and tail. Hoping it was pretty enough, he knocked on the door.

"I'm Flits N Giggles," he said. "I gotcha somethin'! I read in a magazine that you were supposed to bring something nice when on a date."

He walked inside and looked around from a few steps into the house. It wasn't often he got to be inside a real house. He admired the windows and particularly the solid, unleaky looking ceiling. Flits offered the little unwrapped box to Shrill.

"Ceilings are great, aren't they?" he mused. "My ceiling's about to fall off in chunks."

"I don't think so," Flits shook his head, his mass of accessories glittering at every bit of light it caught. "My ceiling is made of leaves on account of I live in a tree! It's great in the summer time, but the fall and winter... not so much! So I've taken up knitting!"

A little stuffed phony doll made of purple terry cloth with mismatched button eyes and green yarn hair was in the box he'd brought for Shrill. It was obviously washed and repaired, as it sported new stitching and a gaudy, neon sweater hat and scarf Flits knit for it himself.

"Ummm... I'm supposed to tell you," Flits had memorized the lines off his magazine. "'I promise to bring your daughter back before ten pee-em, I won't try anything funny, and I'll make sure she wears a sweater if it gets cold.'"

"Hm," Shrill said as she looked over her gift. She was, she had to admit, rather touched. It was obviously home-made and nobody, no friend, had ever bothered to make her something before. "Uh... yeah... thanks." She tucked it carefully back in the box. Maybe she wouldn't ditch Flits as soon as they got there after all.

Lullaby was still staring at the young colt aghast "There are orphans living at the park." He repeated Draft's words in a high pitched squeal. "Flits, sweetie, would you like to come live with us instead?" Then he would go to the park and find the rest and bring them all home.

Shrill rolled her eyes. "Come on Flits, we'll go now before my papa gets even weirder."