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 Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2008 4:53 am
Special Pidge RP Prompt This weeks special Pidge is a coffee male and as with all special pidge, he is on his own unique lineart Entires end 11PM GMT 15/03/08  Winner will have to pay 4k for the pidgeTo have your chance of getting this pidge just respond to the following prompt in this thread: Quote: 'You are a brave and daring pidge, with quite a reputation in your flock for your feats. Which is admirable for someone so young, desired by many females and envied by other males you are destined for great things. Even entertainers tell stories and tales about you Please write a quick short tale about this pidge which the entertainers tell.'
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2008 8:54 pm
Ah, Tadmuck, the great adventurous Tadmuck! A young pidge with achievements far greater than even the eldest of any flock. Why, just last week he stole a hair for a heart.
As you all know, a pidge normally doesn't dare interact with mankind. We pidges are watchers, observers, even admirers of the human race. But Tadmuck, he knows no boundaries between the pidge and the human world. You see, he's always one to shoot to impress the ladies of the flock, steal one heart, then another. But there was this one in particular that inspired him like no other. Oh, they say her beauty is unmatched, her inks dazzling, and her spirit high as the clouds. And so to win her heart, Tadmuck had a plan. He'd seen many humans wear sparking threads around their necks that glisten in the sun, 'like the glistening sparkle of her eyes,' he'd tell his comrades. To impress her, he made a plan to snatch one from the very neck of the next human he saw wearing one. His friends called him mad, called him a liar, said he'd never do it, or never return alive. But this pidge knew no fear. The very next day he settled down far into human territory on top of a corner post, watching the humans pass for hours, until suddenly, there it was - the perfect golden thread, around the neck of a small human child.
Whoosh! He dove without a second thought, snatching it in his beak, beating off grabbing hands and swinging man-things with his mighty wings until finally, it snapped! And off he flew to present it to the pidge of his dreams.
They say she fainted with delight, and when awoken, was left without so much as a feather of Tadmuck's in sight. Perhaps he's just too wild to settle down, or perhaps he plays with her, for after all, a woman's heart is just another adventure.
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 6:48 pm
Pidge Name: Ace (Street Sense)
Owner: Zactura
Flock: Baker's
Job:
The old pidge swiveled his good eye around the lamp that was his perch, looking at all the pidge that were his audience. Their faces were half cast in shadows from the golden light that flowed out of the glass casing like capuccino out of a machine when a writer's at the coffee shop.. The elder pidge grinned, inhaling deeply and letting out the city air with a whoosh from his old lungs. He suddenly spread his battered wings with their tattered feather, startling some of the younger pidge that perched with him.
"Come on, Foghorn, get on with it!" a slate pidge cried out, impatient.
"Ah, Pickup, shaddup, will ya? I'm gettin' on with it, so cool your feathers!" the swarthy pidge shot back, grumbling.
"Well, now I'll tell you the story of the young and daring pidge, good old-"
"Get on with it, you old geezer!" a coffee shouted from the back row.
"I'm getting on with it, ya weather-beaten sack of grain! Now, shove it and let me finish!" Foghorn roared, causing some of the pidge in the front row to sgrink down so as not to be caught in the line of fire.
"As I was saying...." the storytelling pidge wheezed, his aging lungs not quite being able to withstand such a shout. "Hear this, pidge young and old, and listen to my words..." Foghorn said mysteriously, lifting his wing to the moon to emphasize the words. "Well? GET ON WITH IT!" some of the pidge in the audience shouted. Foghat flapped down to them, buffeting each one in the head with his wing. "I'm gettin' on with it, if ya featherbrains would just listen for a mo'!"
"Street Sense, one of the bravest pidge I've ever seen. He's done many a fine deed and as many daring stunts that've earned him a special title...Ace. That's what he says his name is now; Ace." Foghorn looked around at his audience, an impish glint in his rheumy eyes. "Let me tell you of one great adventure Ace had one balmy day...."
'As I said, it was a balmy day, sunny with plenty of cloud cover. Ace was waiting for something to happen, 'cuz he felt the tension in the air, and it got him real wired, real fast. He started to go on a stunt fling, impressin' the ladies and makin' 'em swoon left and right, when out of no-ways, this screech cuts though the air." Foghorn stopped for emphasis, noting the scared looks in some of the younger pidge's eyes as they trembled; he had told them befor this tale, and they knew that the screeching cry was that of...."A hawk streaks out of the sky, shooting right towards Ace. He barrel rolls outta the way, but the hawk grazes his feather, knocking him off balance, see?" The old pidge stopped, moving his wings in imitation of human hand motions to emphasize the story. "Anyways, Ace whirls around, and all he sees is a blur as the world around 'im gets to spinnin' faster than a boozed up guy durin' a Happy Hour. The hawk screams again, fanning his wings out wide, and makes a hairpin turn straight towards Ace. That hawk was screamin' bloody murder, and even some 'umans were starting to come out to see what all the fuss's about. Well, here comes the hawk, razor talons outstretched, shootin' like a bullet for Ace..." Foghat had his wings in a sort of outstretched claw position, and in the light from the lamp, his feather's shadows looked exactly like a hawk's talons on the brick wall behind the convocation of pidge. A few shivered at the likeness, one hatchling started to wail. "...when outta nowhere, Ace shoots up into the sky, and the hawk hits a tree. That hawk, as you mighta figgured, ain't none too happy by now. Ace looked ol' featherbrain right in the eye and charges right at 'im, beak first an' aimin' for the hawk. Next thing ya know, the hawk just streaks out of-”
A coffee-colored shape shot through the air, taking a flashy swirl before landing with its wings out wide, cutting off the old pidge as he drew near the climax of the story. Some pidge gasped and a few of the females swooned as they realized who it was.
The coffee colored shape was none other then the daring ladykiller, Ace.
“Foggy, old fried, would you mind if I told my own story?” Ace asked with a rich laugh and a boyish grin.
“Be my guest, Ace. Roll ‘em in the aisles!” the old pidge encouraged.
“Well, I’ll just continue where Foghorn left off.” Ace said, nodding respectfully to the aged pidge. Foghorn grinned at him with his chipped beak and flapped to a waiting roost nearby where he could listen to the younger pidge’s version of the much-recited tale.
“The hawk was flying straight at me, his deadly talons outstretched. Those golden eyes were locked in like lasers on me, and they followed my every movement, reacting as if synchronized to everything I did. This wasn’t a small hawk, either-quite a big fella, in fact. He wasn’t that maneuverable, but boy, was he a fast one! He had his beak open and was panting with rage, ready to rip my skin apart like paper and feast on my organs.” Ace paused and looked around at the gathered pidge. Some of the littler pidge were cheeping “Organs, organs!” over and over excitedly, not knowing what he meant by it. They thought it was just another funny word that the nice pidge had taught them, another thing to be chirped over and over again.... “I came in low inderneath him, the top of my head getting clipped by the brute’s talons. See?” Ace said, motioning to the nicked feather atop his head. “Well, as I said, I flew in low....”
“Humans!” a foggy pidge yelled out, causing the gathering to scatter. Ace shook his head and grinned, shooting off into the night sky. Another day I’ll finish the story. the young pidge thought to himself, taking a flashy exit. The humans looked up at the flurry of pidge that were, to their eyes, pidgeons, wondering what had caused them all to gether and be so enraptured. "Wait a minute..." one of the two humans, a large, burly man with long dark hair said. "Do pidgeons usually do that?" he asked his whip-thin and tall counterpart. "I don't know. It's a bit unusual, I'll give you that." Little did they know how very unusual these pidge all were....
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Posted: Thu Mar 13, 2008 9:21 am
Pidge Name: Speed Limit 55
Flock: Big Ma's
Job: Patrol
RP'er: Ice Queen
Speed Limit 55 was not the largest of the pidges in Big Ma's flock, but he was one of the fastest. He was a fearless patrol pidge, who had put his life on the line several times in the line of duty, and he was once again acting as a traveling guard for one of the loony oracle pidges as she sought greater knowledge up the hill. Supposedly the gods had told her something was interesting up there.
She would have chosen a mountain, he thought dryly, but there weren't any mountains to be found at the moment. He scouted ahead a bit, flying smoothly over the trees as he looked out for intruders, or predators that might be after a bit of pidgie pie.
There was nothing to be seen, and he unconsciously let himself relax, glancing over his shoulder at the oracle and groaning at the sight of her hopping around on the ground in a small grassy clearing. She looked to be playing with rocks for some reason, muttering to herself in a distracted manner. He changed course, flying down to see if he could assist, or hopefully, make her desist. They weren't to the hill yet!
"Ma'am," he said as he landed, his feathers ruffling out slightly to make him look bigger than he was. It was a way of looking like an authority. Even oracles had to respect authority... he thought. "Is there some way I might help you?"
She ignored him, still muttering to herself as if she had made some great discovery, and he inwardly sighed. There was no way he was going to get her out of--
His head jerked and he turned quickly, eyes narrowing at the sight of a snake slipping through the grass. It was almost impossible to see, since the snake was green, just like the grass, but he had been trained for these sort of things. "Ma'am!" he snapped, looking at the oracle. "You have to leave now!"
She kept ignoring him, lost in her little world of prophecies, and he gave up, taking to the air and flapping his wings wildly. His hope was to send the snake running, startled by the noise and movement. It didn't seem to be enough. The snake kept inching forward, its attention on the oracle that paid it no heed.
Speed had no choice. He let out a challenging bellow and swooped down, scratching at the snake with his talons. It finally got the snake's attention, who rared into the air, hissing loudly. He heard the oracle screech behind him, showing that she had finally noticed the situation.
"I told you to LEAVE!" he bellowed at her, not daring to take his attention from the snake. The moment he heard the oracle take to the air he turned, flying after her, barely dodging the snapping fangs of the snake behind him.
((Hope no one minds a newcomer entering. Sinbari showed me this place and I absolutely adored it^^))
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Posted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 1:39 pm
Name: Starbucks
Flock: Baker's
Let me tell you a little something about courage.
Now, it's only once in a blue moon a pidge comes along with a trait like courage, and a good thing too. Ya see, courage and survival just don't fly alongside one another, and you either got one or the other. Us pidge, we're a simple sort of folk, and life's good that way. It just ain't practical for a pidge to make so much noise in the world. No, courage isn't usually a good quality to have nowadays; it's a responsibility, it'll keep you up at night. That's if it don't kill you first. A curse, though? Now that's a moot point.
Every now and again we need a fool with a streak of courage, otherwise a lot of things don't get done. There needs to be someone bold enough to make a difference. And for that, we admire those with the trait, and pity 'em. We gotta be grateful for all they do. Because of what they do, we get to keep on bein' simple.
Now let me tell you about a courage-stricken little fella called Starbucks. Now, I know some of you heard he were born from an egg made by a Whisperer and a she-falcon, but ain't no lies to be told here! Truth is, no one really knows where that chick came from 'cept Baker himself. Just one day he came swoopin' down from the sky, right into the face of a problem our flock had been facin' for a good few weeks now.
A pack of dogs came wandering through this way not long ago. They was mean mongrels, and hungry as anything. And they were headed by the most ornery, slobbery god of them all. They were populatin' our city, at least the part where our scavengers saw the most food. And the problem were, whenever any of us tried to go for food, one of them demons was always there. They scared our scavengers off to a safer place, and they ate up everything on the ground. Chicks were goin' hongry all over, and a lot of pidge were afraid to go out anymore because them dogs would eat anything were it close enough. Baker, he were tryin' to come up for a solution for them dogs, else he knew we'd be starved for sure. That was when he came.
T'were a day like anything else, 'cept I recall my own belly was 'bout as empty as Big Ma's soul. But really, it were the day a hero were found. The lead dog were headin' through the town -Scratch, we called him, for all the marks all over him- with some of his followers with him like a king proceedin' through his kingdom. And then, alla sudden, some'n come dive-bombing off a shop roof with a wild cry, right into the face of ol' Scratch. All of us that saw, we were surprised to see a pidge, and such a youngling, to do the deed. But weren't no one more surprised than ol' Scratch. He gave a yelpin' that caused all his assembly to back off, watchin' as the tiny bird gave a clawing to their leader's face. Then with a hop he fluttered to a post on the bottom of a shop window, because he weren't quite old enough to fly right then. And you can believe he was puffed up about twice his size then, hissin' challenge at the big leader.
And Scratch took it. He were blind, both with rage and from Starbuck's treatment. He flew at little Star and the chick flew down. Right through the glass window went ol' Scratch! And that were the end of him. Those other dogs took off like that chick were a big, horrible storm rather than just a heap of brown feathers. You get rid of the leader, well, no dog is obliged to stay, and that's just how it is. We saved him from the ground then, and we brought him to Baker after that. It wasn't no secret after that just how much he were a help to the flock, throwing the leader of the dogs outta commission AND openin' up a new shop to us all.
And that's how it all began, the story of Starbucks. He's the reason some of us are gonna get up from the roost in the morning. Sure, maybe he's little now, but he's bound to get popular real fast. That kid's gonna go places!
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