“Oh no,” said Elizabeth as her gaze took in the mess.

Bird stuff on her floor was a major problem. And speaking of the devil, where was the bird?

She twirled around in icy wrath, focusing her gaze on the troublesome cat. “Alright, where is he?” No wait, screw that!

As if any cat in the world was ever going to give a straight answer.

“Nico!” she yellow as she opened her mind. She felt many things but she focused on location. Animals above her and creatures below. Other peoples’ pets and mansion infestations. Emotions began pouring in and she sifted through ‘em with ease.

Ecstasy? No. That’s a doggy feeling, bro. Languid tranquility? Felt like a lizard. Total contentment? Not her bird! Oh wait, was that the feeling of total superiority and supreme arrogance?

She could feel the bird. Now she had to find him.

However, the “him” in question was having the time of his life.

Strut strut strut strut. The wooden perches were showcases. Perfect for Smart Bid’s victory over Stupid Cat.

Nico wanted to fly in a circle. Circles showed off his feathers. Everyone needed to see his feathers. then they would know that he was better than Stupid Cat.

“Squawk!” he cheered as he took to the air, flapping his hardest to fly a victory loop several feet above all the cases. “Stupid cat!” he sneered.

((ooc: Nico!bird is the best!bird. Having seen his feathers, none can deny. ))

The kitten sat in the doorway, veritably shedding sweetness from its soft black coat as it watched the girl ‘oh no’ and twirl and ice. Oh, burrrrr. Whatever had it done to deserve such a look?

Claw, clip, climb: in the library, the ginger tom reached the top of the bookcase, and took a well-deserved moment to groom his fur back into place. Mmm, it was quite nice up here. The view; the feather-brained breeze; the falsely victorious company.

“You know,” he spoke conversationally, in between licks as he groomed his fur back into its pristine earthbound appearance. “Your vocabulary is really quite limited. What do you say we find a dictionary, you and I?”

Dear, he hoped it wasn’t getting tired at all, the poor little cage-kept dear. What a shame it would be if he, say, groomed himself until the little morsel looked like it wanted to settled down on a perch... and then jumped over there, himself. With a casual pounce, the tomcat cleared the gap between one shelf and the next, and settled down near where the birdie’s victory circle was going next. Mmm, yes. Those feathers were the best feathers; he would simply encourage them to an encore lap. And another. And another~

Part of him--a certain very fuzzy part--knew that they might not have enough time for that strategy; but a ginger-stripped part of him was having far too much fun to care.

Flap flap flappy flap flappity-flap Nico went as he cruised around the room. There were humans in there, but they never looked up. Humans were stupid. Except Liz-Beth. She was--

“AAWRCK!” he calmly screeched.

Stupid Cat climbed! Wasn’t supposed to climb inside! Nico couldn’t! (But he did anyways.)

It said stuff. Stupid stuff. Nico didn’t care. He turned and moved deeper in the lie-berry. He’d get the cat in trouble. That would teach him.

“Cat on loose! Mayday! Stupid cat climbing! Squawk!”

Maybe lie-berry humans would attack Stupid Cat.

As for the other cat, Elizabeth ignored. It wasn’t a real cat and she felt no compunctions about being rude to it. She had to find her parrot.

Where were those Napoleonic emotions at? They kinda felt down. Not above. So he wasn’t outside. Good, good.

Oh gosh, what was that? Shock, surprise? Liz’ eyes widened and she rushed out of her room and down the stairs as quickly as was safe. “Nico!” she cried, hoping to get an answer.

Kittens make acceptable stair-running velocities slower. Much slower. Unless one wishes to acquaint oneself, at even greater speed, with the floor far below. Leg-twining-mode: engage!

In the library, the refined gentlecat in the ginger-stripped suit leapt lightly across to another bookshelf. The spacing between them was really quite convenient, as was their elevation. He paused to comb a paw through over one ear, and asked a very pertinent question of his dinner guest:

"How high can you count?"

The ginger tom splintered. With a bit of a shivering shake, a gray queen sat beside him. Tom and Queen picked opposite directions, and cheerfully bounded in flanking pursuit. Should the birdie get close enough, such bounds might even be vertical.

As it turns out, stray cats can jump quite high. Would the ever-so-smart bird like to see?

Kittens did indeed make speed-stepping perilous on the stairs for a human. However, human could make super-stomping equally unfortunate for the cat. This is why Elizabeth plowed down the steps, deliberately stomping each step as hard as possible in order to ward off any potential trippy-tactics.

Maybe she could also discover how loud a cat could scream if something heavy spontaneously smashed its tail into the floor.

Thusly did the blonde reach the bottom of the steps. For a moment she paused before ascertaining a vague direction of the arrogantly righteous indignation she could feel. It wasn’t her, so it had to be Nico. She turned left.

Beyond, in that vague direction, a certain piratical parrot was raising sugarcane in the lie-berry. Flappity-ing around and squawking out all the Irish fun-words he knew, he was getting quite a bit of attention.

“Hey, is that a bird?”

“Yeah, it is! Cool!”

“How did that get in here?”

“Polly wanna cracker?”

“Did you just call someone a cracker?!”

“Cheese!”

And so the students began to join the chase. To capture the bird and release it into the wild, for they all knew wild birds didn’t belong in cages.

Nico flew over everyone’s head, proclaiming his distress. “Stupid stupid stupid stupid! squawk!”

Midterms were in two days. Every diligent student in the school... was not to be found in the library. No, the library was for slackers of every shape and color. A mouse-eared girl was trying to cram months of someone else's geometry notes into her head; a lavender lad was looking lost in the literary fiction aisle. The air was thick with the despair of a Quarter spent doing much cooler things than studying; one could take a butter knife and a piece of bread and make Desperation Toast from the air.

And then, bird.

Heck yes, bird.

Never had a library been so full of running, shouting, and the climbing of shelves. (Because really. Who hasn't wanted to climb a library shelf? A bird is all the excuse one ever needs.)

Especially a talking bird.

"Are you a mutant?"

"Here birdie birdie—"

"Cracker, I've got a cracker!"

"Dude, that is so offensive."

"Cheese!"

And then, there was cheese. Because it is a rare day that a string cheese manipulator gets to shine. But today. Was such a day.

Lines of string cheese flew upward with telekinetic-powered grace, seeking to ensnare the stupidstupidstupid flier in their deliciously fine net.

And then, as if they had only been waiting for this signal, this shinning beacon of diary to guide their way, all mutational hell broke lose.

Midterms were in two days. Every diligent student in the school... was not to be found in the library. No, the library was for slackers of every shape, color, and mutation: and all they'd needed was a proper excuse to cease their studies.

Enter bird.

The Tom and Queen cat looked out upon what they had wrought. And it was good.

(The kitten, whose tail had come far too close to stompage, may have held a differing opinion.)

Too much stupid hoomans! Too much noise! Fly fly away to outside space! Feel the wind under wing, not stupid human breath! That’s what Nico needed.

But he whirled and twirled and zipped and whipped as he avoided outstretched hands and even a superstretchy one.

But then cheese.

“Squawk!” he protested. “Unfair!” Thence did the dairy-detained parrot repeat his Irish vocabulary as chains of cheddar ensnared his wings. He fell into the arms of a stupid human.

Then did Elizabeth come into the correct hall. The noble rage of a bound bird burned in her brain. It could only be coming from the library. As if the shouts and ruckus hadn’t already given it away.

The blonde advanced on the hall of knowledge, her mind cast out and kept track of her pet. His feelings fluctuated but stayed mostly the same. And was that some kind of Gaelic being shouted in an inhuman voice?

Elizabeth threw open the library doors like the sonic crash of thunder. She was the lightning and her eyes were basically fire. Each stomp calculated to make the most noise, she stormed through the library and discovered a horde.

A horde of the lazy and those who didn’t study were hooting and calling and screaming for some string theory.

And then did she see her entangled little birdie.

“Off with your hands!” proclaimed she to the crowd as she advanced upon them, her voice ringing loud.

Startled children looked her way but Elizabeth’s quest could not be swayed. “Get away from my bird, you swine, you little turd. I can feel his outrage; you’d best disengage.” Wild intent glinted and sparked from the determined look on her face. The crowd began to shudder and slowly disperse.

Perhaps it help that she had a thick tome in her hand. The History Of The World In One Single Volume could to one’s brain transmogrify into sand.