recolle | [Open] Joy of Painting

WHO: Potemkin and YOU
WHERE: A supermarket, Recolle Square
WHEN: Probably backdated to mid-November
WHAT: City-wide blue sale brings Peter Hoboken to splurge on art supplies for the first time in a very, very long while. Then turkeys.
WARNINGS: None

1.
It's with no shame that Peter got legitimately drawn in by the sales advertised outside. Hokey commercialism aside, the practical-minded man sees it as a chance to be thrifty. (Which is a nicer way of putting it than being stingy.) He doesn't care if he doesn't get a choice of color. Blue is just fine. He walks through the aisles, looking down at various items with no attention to the color in particular, until he passes a display of art pencils that shows all the shades of blue they have in stock, hanging up in an array like a rainbow.

So many of them. They're all so beautiful.

Peter spends longer in front of them than anything else.

2.
Peter is next in line, behind you or in front. Either way he's stuck with his neighbors, because the crowds of customers successfully brought in by the clearance sales mean lines at the end of the destination. Something must be up at the cash register to have caused this jam, because nobody has stepped forward in what one would swear has been a wait longer than it took to shop.

Peter is politely quiet. Awkwardly so. He didn't think this would take long enough to get a cart, so his items are clearly carried in his large arms.

3.
The park is the place to go for people who want to spend their day with something, even if green grass is still MIA. On a half-way, colored pencils (a large fraction of which are blue but not all of them - one purchase didn't make much sense without some others) and paper are laid out, and the lapsed artist is sitting on the ledge beside. He's trying to look like he doesn't have much of a care, but the stiffness of his arms and the steadiness of his eyes show that he's actually focused.

It's obvious enough that few would come in and ruin his concentration.

Unfortunately the recent avian population is more heartless.

A turkey passes by your path, carrying off something with the rush of its feathered body and sprinting claws. Followed soon by a large, panicking man, chasing after the bird with all of his might.

"Stop! Come back!"

[The third prompt can be tied to a regain of Potemkin's, with the experience needed to set it off is breaking a pencil. I'm totally open to seeing if it comes up, or feel free to ask so I can set up a more specific scenario that leads into it, with or without turkey.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Arion has pretty much given up on catching turkeys for the reward money. While he had been successful at figuring out a good strategy for herding them to a simple trap, his dog gives up halfway and most of his friends aren't quiet desperate for cash. Getting scratched up also proved to not be worth the money, even if it was much more than his meager allowance. So he reflexively sidesteps the turkey, squinting at it as it passes him. Was that something in his beak? Arion takes another step back as the large, panicking man dashes after it. He sighs, remembering the kind of thieving monsters the turkeys were.

He takes off after the man, quickly catching up.

"Excuse me sir! Do you want help catching that!"

"Yes!"

The adult man yells reflexively, and from how his eyes are still widened by shock it's clear that this is too distressing for Peter to say anything more couched in politeness or nuance.

For such a fat bird, it never feels like he's gaining any ground on it. He doesn't want to think what will happen if his endurance goes out before its does.

"It - has my pencils!"

"Okay!"

Arion looks around the park and spots an empty soccer field, and more importantly, a goal with netting still up. What were the odds.

"Over there!" He points to the field and hopes the man catches on quickly before he can execute the next part. "Let's herd it into that net!"

With a burst of speed, the boy breaks away, curving around to approach the turkey at a different angle to redirect it.

Peter can recognize when effort and energy is getting thrown away in a pointlessly inefficient direction, and he never approved of it. So he's immediately receptive to Arion suggesting something different, because running in a line is not going to get better results any time soon.

The officer played sports in high school. Was good at them, even. He's suddenly wanting and hoping that any of that experience stuck with him. He has to match up at least to Arion, who is the non-wash up here (and that is an impressive sprint). Peter runs straight at the field, chasing the turkey from behind so that it heads toward the grass.

The turkey rushes onto the grass as Arion slows and speeds up at different angles to subtly force its trajectory to the goal whenever the turkey attempts to out-maneuver Peter. He just wishes he had stretched before he headed to the park, but the tactics to herd the turkey makes the later pain worth it.

At the last few yards, he takes off his jacket and gets ready to dive for the turkey if it decides to suddenly break way from the path to the net.

Turkey underestimates its pursuers, maybe because this is possibly only one of many failed chases or because Peter hasn't exactly proven it wrong yet. It stays complacent at staying the same distance away from the charging man who's facing its fat feathered butt.

It jumps with fear when Arion reappears in its vision after being forgotten. It manages to fall back down and turn before Peter is close to catching up with it, with not a piece of its bounty dropped, but now it's following the trap laid down for it. The turkey runs straight in the path of the net, not recognizing it for what it is.

Arion waits until the turkey runs into the trap and immediately closes in behind it when it hits the net. He quickly wraps the bird in his jacket before it can get tangled, pinning its wings to its sides. He seizes its little legs, holding them still so it can't scratch.

"Got it!" he exclaims. It's a bit (a lot) of effort to hold the bugger down, and Arion severely underestimated both the fight and the weight of the turkey. It thrashes its head about, trying to wriggle free. It seems reluctant to peck due to the pencils stubbornly held in its beak. "Can you--gah--can you go around and get your pencils?"

"Will do."

Peter quickly walks around to the other side, arms held up in preparation to retrieve the pencils. He doesn't move at first, thinking of how to tackle bringing his hands to the beak that both has his prize and is the weapon that could be used to peck him.

Just reach out...

The turkey's eyes zoom in on Peter's hands and it thrashes its head all around, for no purpose that relates to escape at all but seemingly pure spite.

"Augh, argh!"

Arion has to admit that this turkey is the most vindictive turkey he's ever had the displeasure of catching. He's not entirely sure if he should go through the trouble of turning it in once it forfeits its ill gotten treasure, but he knows he must; this turkey will certainly return to a life of crime once its free.

"Maybe it'll trade for a nice stick?" Arion suggests. "It's a bird so it probably wanted to build a nest."

Normally Peter wouldn't bother to be petty, but he's already imagining being very satisfied when this turkey gets handed over to the city staff.

"Hmmm, an equal exchange. Well, something that would fit..." Peter looks around, but they're in the middle of a soccer field which doesn't have a lot of choice for real sticks.

Peter uproots a straw that originally came from a water cooler. He comes back to Arion with a plastic rod around the same diameter as the pencils, and with the focus of a surgeon he aims it at the crux of the bird's beak.

"Steady...got it!"

Massive relief comes over Peter when his hands wrap around the pencils again at last. But he's a little embarrassed to be so happy over something like this in front of someone. In addition, his thanks to Arion needs to be given too.

"Take all the money for the turkey. I should pay you back in some other way too."

"It's no problem, really!" Arion gives Peter a small, sheepish smile. "This was actually the easiest catch I've done all month!"

Proof could be seen in a few bandaids still on his arms from his first few catches, though some seem to be from skidding on pavement rather than scratches from sharp claws. The turkey tests the hardness of the straw, but still has its sights on the pencil. Carefully, it tucks it into its feathers under the jacket, beady little eyes cold and calculating. In one last desperate, greedy attempt, it makes a quick snap at the pencil once more.

"Ah--!"

Peter reels his hand back, far too attached to give up his prize so soon. The man stares down the turkey with a dark downturned gaze. It might seem like a stretch to anthropomorphize it with the treatment of someone who can feel fear and guilt, but Peter's gone through enough that he doesn't have hesitation.

"I'll put these back, and then I'm holding down this thing with you to City Hall. It's not done yet."

The turkey seems to return the glare, gobbling menacingly. Arion nods and keeps his hold on the bird. It gobbles loudly at the flash of pencils as Peter puts them away, lunging and struggling to grab more, but Arion keeps a firm grip. He knows too well now how ruthless and unpredictable they can be in their flight-or-fight reactions.

"This--This one is really strong."

The turkey starts to bang its head against Arion, but luckily for him, its neck isn't quite long or flexible enough to peck his face.

The turkey hasn't been cowed by intimidation, so Peter, out of chances for the thing, has to resort to force. While it's targeting Arion, Peter uses the distraction to strike, grabbing its head. Peter's grip is actually not very tight. Even when annoyed Peter can only bring himself to exert the equivalent of a light muzzle around it. But finally it seems to scared to move.

Peter sighs, and starts to head toward the drop-off.

"City Hall first then," he changes plans while putting the pencils in his pocket.

[Open] Joy of Painting

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