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His relief when Zebulon caught up to him had been palpable, but there wasn't enough time to focus on it. They had a job to do, after all, and they were going to do it to the best of their ability. The gruffness of the man who'd set them out on their tasks hadn't perturbed Diryas in the least; he wasn't the warmest individual, himself. Matter-of-fact and to-the-point? Even to the point where people might think it rude?

He could work with that.

Making sure to stay close to Zebulon this time, just in case, Diryas dug through the wreckage to see what he could salvage. Most of what he found was fairly ruined--chairs that had become fabric and splinters--or not very applicable, such as decorative silk flowers in various states of damage. He did manage to round up a few objects that might be helpful, should he think of a use for them. Near an overturned luggage trolley, he'd found a couple of suitcases. They were full of women's formal-wear, but he figured that could be dealt with in some way.

The knives were closer to where he assumed the room service carts had been located, fairly close to what used to be the kitchen. They were harder to find, but it helped that he almost cut his hand on one of them when he stooped to pick up a bunch of ruined tablecloths off of the floor. The cleaning cart, however, closer to the actual kitchen and what he assumed was a janitor's closet, was his pride and joy of the moment.

There wasn't much left on it, mainly a lot of rags and some standard cleaners, a toilet brush and a plunger, but he knew he could think of something to do with all of it. It was better than he had expected, really, even if he knew he was going to have to limit application of the cleaners in whatever way he decided to use them. Not only did he not want to knock out the others with the fumes, but he saw both bleach-based and ammonia-based cleaners on the cart. A poisonous gas was not something he was keen on creating.

He glanced up to see how Zebulon was doing, as he loaded the suitcases and knives onto the cart where he could find some room.

Well, it wasn't so much that Diryas was okay with getting pushed around, as it was that he recognized the need to yield to local authority when it presented itself. He knew Zebulon well enough, had been around him long enough, to recognize his irritation at being told what to do, and gave him a fairly reasonable berth to process his annoyance. Though it did seem to mollify him somewhat to have a task to complete.

He looked over the chair leg Zebulon held up, considering his question carefully before replying.

"Chair legs sharp end out with no room between to roost. Could deter attacks near vulnerable areas. Like a spike wall." Well, a small one, in any case. Diryas looked over his own results. "Also, perhaps spacer for insulation structural support." A toilet brush's bristles would probably not be too pleasant to perch on, either, and perhaps some of the rags Diryas had found could be stuffed in between with chemicals on them to deter birds with the fumes.

The platter though... hm...

"Metal is hard to grab onto. Perhaps a shield for a weaker point with more purchase."

The utensils could probably be rigged into part of the "spike wall". Maybe bent or outright broken to be harder for birds to grab and more painful for them to collide with.

Hm, suitcase full of fancy women's clothing...

Diryas wondered if that included any corsets with actual boning in them...

In any case, he could probably think of something to do with the ties and laces...

Diryas whuffed air out of his nose at that, his version of a chuckle. He appreciated Zebulon's ability to be lighthearted despite the literal killer birds outside around them. "We can visit later." Later being, of course, when they were cleared to even have a vacation. Did they get vacations, now, he wondered?

Well, not the matter at hand, anyway.

"We should pull back to find fully intact doorways. Intact windows." Places easy to build barricades, where birds were less likely to find a way around their measures. Why build a barrier across a mile when you could build a thicker one across a hundred yards, after all. Intact windows would also be easier, structurally, to build some of the defenses in the first place, as they would help lend support themselves. And it would help keep smaller birds from slipping in through any gaps. Smaller birds were less likely to be able to break windows at that close of range.

Not that he didn't see the merit in defending places already crumbling, but he didn't think they should be focused on unless they were in a strategically advantageous location. Say, close to the heart of the people taking shelter.

The plate clattering in made Diryas think of another idea.

"Could be used as a distraction, if not protection. Like a scarecrow." These were birds, right? Rig something shiny that glinted and spinned, but not like a trinket, and maybe it would be enough to spook a lot of them off.

To be honest, Diryas also preferred the idea of a beach to the idea of more cold.

"A bit more damage. Not a lot." He didn't think it'd be a good idea to waste time and resources on an area that could just fall again with only rudimentary rebuilding to support it. Neither he nor Zebulon were carpenters or masons, and their chemical knowledge was only going to get them so far. Perhaps with mixing a replacement for cement--though he doubted that would be an option with how cold it was here--but not with large-scale fortifications. He was also concerned about the possibility of having reaches of the barricades be too far away from the central hub of activity.

It would be harder, there, for people inside to realise if there was any damage or defects that could let the birds in, after all. And while birds were not, on their face terribly formidable targets, they had already managed quite a lot of damage. There was power in numbers, and Diryas wanted to neutralize as much of that power as he possibly could as early as he possibly could. Before it became an even bigger problem than it already was.

He supposed Zeb's suggestion did also have merit not only in the points he'd provided, but in letting the people have places to more efficiently store things. Also, there was something to be said about the impact on morale for everyone not to be huddled on top of each other.

Maybe they could even end up with a semi-private wing for the injured, away from the activity...

He missed Zebulon's initial teasing statement, so deep in thought he was, that it took a second for him to realise he was being teased. A quick, self-indulgent sticking out of the very tip of his tongue was the only response he dignified the teasing with.

"Reflecting light can also signal to other people trying to seek shelter that we are here. In case other ways are obscured."

Diryas was also not terribly keen to go outside in the present weather, getting a draft from the cracked window and shivering a bit despite his clothing. He saw Zebulon eye the window and size it with the chair leg. To be honest, he'd be willing to have Zebulon lean him out the window to put some foundations up if it meant they wouldn't have to actually go all the way outside. Not that it was very warm where they were, but it was at least mostly draft free--mostly!--and that counted for something.

The stoic tip-of-the-tongue-poke made a brief reappearance when Zebulon continued to tease him.

"Mine still has the side bag intact," he agreed, gesturing to the cart he'd wheeled over. "Can be used for other things. Should take the casters off, though, if carts are going to be barricades." Having them able to roll around wouldn't be very useful, and it was possible they'd find another use for the wheels. Perhaps they would have to move heavy things in the process of fortifying this area.

Although, actually... He looked at the side bag on his cart, looked at a pile of rubble, looked back at the side bag on his cart, and started piling pieces of rubble into it. He paused a moment and looked it over, rolling it against the door. Then Diryas pulled it back away from the door and kept putting more rubble in the side bag.

Diryas did not actually reply verbally to Zebulon, or even seem to nonverbal ly acknowledge his words. However, he did place several large pieces of drywall in his husband's cart bag, followed by cracked cinderblocks. Looking around as he wiped the dust off on his trousers, he considered what else was there. There wasn't much they had found in ways of tying anything together. No real ropes of any kind. Not even twine, and he wanted to save using the women's clothing for securing full barricades.

Once both carts' bags were full, the area around then did seem passably less hazardous to walk around. That was certainly something, and he pushed his cart against the door, first, prying the casters off with whatever he could find around him. He pocketed them once successful, looking over to Zebulon.

"Yours too?"

"Some birds are permanent residents. Terns are arctic year-round." Diryas' voice was muffled from where he was, bent over to pry the casters off of Zebulon's cart. "There is no species of bird that preys on humans." The behaviour outside was highly unusual for birds, so Diryas--though he was no biologist--had long since stopped trying to apply conventional logic to them. Whatever was causing the assault was something out of the ordinary. Now, if they could find out what that was and put a stop to it, that would certainly help things...

Diryas got to his feet, pocketing the casters from Zebulon's cart as he made sure it was snug against the door. Then, he got to work dealing with the pile of rags. The rags themselves were not terribly large, and there wasn't a terribly large number of them, but everything and any little bit would help. So Disebek began to tie them together, end to end, to fashion them into a rope of sorts. It would make them easier to carry, at any rate, and he planned to use them to also carry the chemicals from the carts. That way, the carts could be loaded up with debris and they would still be able to keep the very useful contents from them.

If he needed some extra space, he was sure he could cram some in with the women's clothing in the suitcases he'd found.

Well, no, his implication had been to point out that not all birds migrated away from the cold, and that, in itself, was not necessarily an indicator of abnormality. But he didn't see or feel the need to reply, especially as the two of them got back to work with their fortifications. There were bigger, more important things for them to spend their thinking on than wondering the precise nature of the avian attackers. After all, neither one of them were biologists. Anything they came up with would be merely conjecture on their part, and Diryas wasn't sure there were any biologists they knew who would take them seriously if they asked them about it.

If they even could ask about it, come to think of it.

Diryas grabbed some of the cleaners from his cart, some of the ones in spray bottles, and approached the spike wall. Zebulon, by his opinion, had done a fine enough job that it should at least hold. If anything, what he was fixing to do would help that. He waited until Zebulon had pulled back from the window before taking a cleaner and spraying the spikes and frame down with it. The water base would likely freeze the pieces together. The temperature would delay evaporation of the chemicals. Ideally, any birds that tried to grab the spikes would taste the chemicals and change their minds. Less ideally but still functionally acceptable, any birds that didn't let go would ingest toxic residue. He didn't really want to poison potentially whole flocks of birds, but Diryas was starting to see the merit in being a bit heavy handed now to prevent potentially worse situations later.

The cold would also deaden the smell and slow the spreading of the fumes, making it less dangerous to any people inside the room.