[Radio]

[thatched]

[There is a low hum in a continuous note as if someone is trying to find pitch. And then not long after.]

Haaaaappy birthday to hic me. [sloshing liquid sounds] Happy birthday toooo me! Happy one year closer to being old and decrepiiiiiit [more sloshing] Happy birthday toooooooo [and he rises in pitch, almost like a howl before there is a crash as if he's fallen into something]

Me.

hic


Any lovely ladies wanna spend my last few hours with me? It'll be extra fun I promise.

[if he sounds as drunk as a lord, that is wrong. He's as drunk as a pirate, which is much worse. Feel free to see your new resident seven foot slosh stumbling around dressed in boxer shorts, pair of sabers at his belt, a yellow scarf tied around his neck and a big bottle of some unidentifiable drink swinging from his hand as he sways down the street]

Comments

[fierybluebird]

[You know what.]

[This is normal.]

[Perfectly normal.]

[For Thatch.]

[So as a bird, Marco lands on his chest, careful not to claw him up and peers in a little too close to his face.]

♫ How old are you now?
How old are you now?
Are you going to freak out at grey hair?
Because you're really old now, yoi.

[thatched]

[oh hi Marco]

Whaddya mean grey hair?! I don't have any grey hairs! [he'd throttle Marco but he has to get up out of the planter kind of tub thing he's stuck in to do so]

Gimmie a mirror, you fairy puff!

[fierybluebird]

[Laughs at him.]

Carry me to one.

Unless you want me to pluck it out for you, but then you might go bald.

[thatched]

[grumbles but gets up and staggers down the street. He will bring you to a mirror if he can find one]

My class has too much hair to go grey! Even if I'm ancient. Older than god. Older than pops. It is a sad sad sad sad sad sad time.

[fierybluebird]

[Swishes tail even though otherwise he holds like duck or a goose.]

Pops used to have your hair color, yoi. Maybe you'll go white instead of grey!

[Is he cheering you up?]

[thatched]

[Thatch takes a moment to digest this, then crashes to his knees, arms outspread]

Pops, take me now.

[it's not worth it if he has to go white haired. It's just not]

[fierybluebird]

[Flutters, and when he feels Thatch's arms go out, hops away so he doesn't get crushed by the too-tall swordsman.]

There there, yoi.

[Gently preens Thatch's hair and soothes it into place with small snuggles.] Oh look! No more grey hair yoi! It must have just been a feather! [Tail swish.]

[Yes. That's it.]

[thatched]

[Yes. That's it. Good Marco. Best friend. He takes Marco in his arms and buries his face in his chest feathers, sighing happily. He could stay like this. Hell, he could sleep like this.

In fact with another swig or two he could use him as a pillow on this cold hard street. Ahh. So tempting. Except his balls are cold so that's also a situation he'd like to remedy.]

Where th' hell are we anyway, feathers?

[fierybluebird]

Giant sea turtle island with fire unicorns and Wano architecture from non-humans.

[He says it like it IS THE BEST THING EVER.]

I think I might have grabbed your thread by the hair. Which is weird, yoi, because I seem to have missed Kitten's so far? [Head tilt and looks up at the sky.]

[Was it a miss or...]

[Or was he trying so hard to get home to the past that he kind of messed up a bit.]

It's Spring.

[That one he has obvious distaste for.]

[thatched]

Sounds fun. [sounds like home. Wano. Giant sea turtle islands. Fire unicorns... Well maybe not that so much but they were good on a barbecue.

He frowns at the mention of missing Grellalicious and gives Marco's head soothing pats]

You'll find her, honeypot. Just keep pulling. [pets pets pets] But she left... before me so maybe you just missed her?

[and then at the last, a slow grin spreads across his face]

Oh... iiis it? [evil plans? what evil plans?]

[fierybluebird]

[Marco was enjoying the soothing headpat when all his warning bells went off at once, and he just instinctively claws his way backwards away from Thatch.]

Ah?

[Even in bird form, his cheeks are going red, he can just feel it. OH NO!]

A-aye?

[Coughs, still backing up.] Maybe... yoi.

[He wants to run oh no!]

[thatched]

Aye...

[more grinny grin grins from his suave chinny chin chin. He raises into a crouch]

Let's...

find...

A flower patch! [full body tackle]

[fierybluebird]

No no!

[Rolls around with Thatch, flailing little birdie feet!]

I won't do it! I won't make the flower crowns! You can't make me succumb to my baser instincts!

[thatched]

Oh you're going to be base all right. So base. And then... and then... [hiccup. Burp.] We're going to find... baby ducks!

[feel his evil! Feel it! He picks up Marco under his arm like a feathery football and staggers forward at full tilt. Fortunately (?) it's night, so the chance of him finding either of these things right now is slim to none. But that doesn't stop him from careening down the streets and cackling occasionally]

[fierybluebird]

Nooooo!

[OH GOD NOT THE BABY DUCKS. HE WILL CUDDLE THEM ALL AGAINST HIS WILL.]

[He's also busy looking after Thatch so that drunk as he is, the swordsman doesn't get into too much extra trouble. Just a moderate amount given the situation, here.]

Ahhhh the air Thatch, can't you hear it?! It's so hard not to sing!

[Why do you do this to him!?]

[problematical]

Last few hours... are you going somewhere?

[thatched]

My dear I am old and about to perish from this earth. ... Or well all of them. It will be nothing but bones on bones.

[pity a poor old man]

[problematical]

[ There is a very serious, studious pause... ]

You don't sound old.

Or bony.

[thatched]

I look pretty good too. [runs hand through his pompadour and nearly topples over] Wanna see in person?