Work Text:
Mark Berskii wakes up the same way he has every morning for the past three months—to the sounds of the academy’s theatrical headmaster booming over the intercom.
"Good morning my amicable student friends!”
Mark pulls the covers up over his head, knowing full well they will do little to suppress the noise.
"I've got quite the surprise in store for you lot today! I'm sure you'll find it quite charming. And you'll all get to see it momentarily—that's code for 'Meeting by the Tree of Ignorance.' The 'Tree Room' as some of you have dubbed it. Be there in a jiffy—you won't want to know what happens if you don't make it! Bye now!"
And with nothing more, Tozu hung up, the announcement fizzling out.
These impromptu announcements were common at the academy. They could be as meaningless as announcing that the gachapon had gotten an updated selection, or as crazy and life-changing as forcing the entire student body into three-legged pairs for the day.
(He was glad that he had been paired with Ulysses that day and not Jett.)
Speaking of Jett, that man slept like a log. If anyone was at risk of getting the entire group punished for not being as timely as Tozu wanted, it was him.
As much as he’d rather not, it was probably best to fetch him.
So Mark puts on a hoodie, slips into his slippers, and makes a sharp left down the hall.
What Jett woke up to changed depending on the day.
Sometimes he woke up to Ingrid announcing that she'd made the group breakfast, and it'd be "mighty swell" of him to "come round for a few minutes."
Sometimes it'd be Diana, worried because it was nearly afternoon and she hadn't seen him all day.
And sometimes, like today, he was awoken by Mark.
"Jett," Mark huffs, rapping the door, "you need to get up now."
"Myeeeeeeeh…"
"It's another one of Tozu's things."
"…Did he say what this one was?"
There's no response from the other side of the door.
"Nothin' 'bout the punishment either?"
"No."
"Alright, alright, gimmie a minute, broskii."
Mark's given up on trying to get Jett to stop calling him that. He didn't like it, but unfortunately he was one of those people who was pretty bad at ignoring things that pissed him off.
Even still, he waits by the door the some ten minutes it takes Jett to suit up.
"Come on," he mutters, knowing Jett is sure to follow.
Jogging to keep up with Mark, Jett finds himself last to make it to the tree.
Tozu, ever the one for overanimated gestures, leans forward into the crowd, a sharp glare from his single exposed eye.
"Took you long enough."
He reels back to standing.
"I'm sure you’ll find today’s development most intriguing."
"That's debatable," Wenona quips.
Her words go unacknowledged.
"Mara!"
The ground shakes with what can only be identified as the locomotion of the room’s central elevator. Nobody bothers to question how Mara was able to hear Tozu’s cue from underground.
Tozu takes a long step to the size, revealing a stout table behind him. Cassidy gets on her tip toes to take a look at it through the crowd.
From the elevator, Mara emerges, holding a sizable something beneath a tarp. She wordlessly sets it on the table and takes to Tozu's side.
"BEHOLD!"
Mara takes the tarp with a flourish, like she’s trying to pull a tablecloth without disturbing the wine glasses atop it. But beneath the tarp there is nothing glass—rather, there is a cage.
"Is that a birdcage?" Damon asks, confirming the obvious.
"Indeed it is!" Tozu says, smiling.
"And there's definitely a bird in there," Desmond says, scratching at the back of his neck.
"Aye. It looks to be a cockatiel."
"You into birds, pirate?"
Jean closes his eyes. It’s not worth getting into this argument again. Especially not with Grace.
"I wouldn't phrase it in such a way, but I know a thing or two."
"I am more fond of lovebirds, personally," Toshiko comments from her spot in the front of the crowd. "I quite like swans as well, for their elegant—"
"Silence!"
The conversations from the group peter out.
"This feathered friend is your newest assignment! Each of you will be responsible for caring for it either one or two days throughout the next month. Mara?"
Mara steps behind the tree, obtaining a large whiteboard with a calendar printed on it. True to Tozu’s word, everyone’s names are written on it in marker, some more than others.
"You really gonna make Toshiko care for that thing?" Jett asks.
"Hmph! I’d say I am far more capable than the likes of you!"
"Sure thing, kiddo."
"I am not a child!"
"Did none of you seriously check behind the tree?" Damon grumbles.
"I have a question."
The group turns to look at Wolfgang.
"Yes?"
"Is it possible to reschedule our assigned days?"
Tozu takes a moment to respond.
"No."
Wolfgang holds his face.
"…I suppose I'll just have to make do."
Wolfgang doesn’t sleep the night before his assigned day.
At 6:55 AM, he glosses over the aptly named "BIRD JOURNAL!!!.docx" on his phone. It had originally been just named "Bird Journal," but Cassidy had insisted that that name didn't have enough "oomph." Apparently adding a file extension to an online document was necessary to give it said "oomph," along with the capitalization and exclamation points.
The journal had been Desmond's idea—an unofficial secondary assignment in order to give everyone a better idea of what to do with the bird when it got to be their turn. But being a secondary unofficial assignment, some had taken it more seriously than others.
There had been five who had been tasked with "bird duty" before Wolfgang: Jean, Desmond, Eva, Jett, and Wenona. Jean had the longest reflection of the bunch, giving a detailed recount of his entire day in extrenuous detail and how the bird (that still was not named, by the way) slotted into it. He'd ended his reflection as follows:
I found our feathered friend to be a much needed change in the day-to-day happenings here at the academy. While the task of caring for it definitely added to my own workload, I found myself more appreciative of all the amenities the academy has to offer, and I found camaraderie in explaining how the bird was doing to those whose paths I happened to cross.
Jean DeLamer
Fine, good, and dandy. Desmond's reflection on the matter had been shorter, as he wasn't the type to use the flowered language Jean often found himself caught in. That and his day was much less busy, as he carved out large chunks of time for his training.
She was loud and she pooped a lot, but the whole thing was alright as far as Tozu assignments go. She didn't change up my schedule all that much. And she's definitely a girl. I checked. Are we gonna get around to naming her? — Desmond
The reflections only grew shorter from there.
Despite repeated attempts, I was unable to get the bird to talk. Cockatiels are parrots. Parrots are known for mimicking human speech. That's their thing. I'm disappointed, quite frankly. — Eva Tsunaka
DO NOT RUB ITS BELLY IT KEEPS RUBBING ITSELF UP AGAINST THE CAGE ALL MEGA WEIRD CAN SOMEONE HELP ME JETT
Wolfgang can only hope someone was able to come to Jett's rescue.
While it hadn't been put in the document, the general consensus via word-of-mouth was that it was a bad idea to pet any part that wasn't the head, it bobbed up and down when it was happy, it was clingy, it was loud, but overall was far from the worst Tozu had thrown at them.
And yet, Wolfgang finds himself sweating bullets as he approaches Wenona's door.
He checks the time. A minute before seven. He pulls off to the side as the announcement plays, just in case Wenona happens to come out of her room right away. Thankfully, she doesn't.
After waiting a few seconds, he knocks.
Wenona responds promptly.
"Someone's here bright and early," Wenona says, almost chuckling. "You that excited?"
"Not particularly. I just couldn't sleep."
"Well, don't expect to get any with this thing around. She's loud."
"I wasn't expecting to. I'm quite busy today, actually."
"Hm," Wenona starts, "you were the one asking to change your day back when this whole bird business was first revealed, weren't you?"
"That was me, yes. I have a few online conferences to get through today."
"Let me guess. You have to have your camera on?"
"Correct."
"Well, she'll definitely make your lectures more lively."
A chirping sounds from inside Wenona's room.
"Speak of the devil."
Wenona steps to the side, inviting Wolfgang inside. She makes no move to hand over the cage—her gaze is instruction enough.
Grimacing, Wolfgang takes the cage in both of his hands. The bird inside goes into a panic, flitting about and giving the lawyer a run for his money with a cacophony of chirps.
"Good luck."
Cage in hand, Wolfgang gives Wenona a grunt in response.
This was already shaping up to be a long, long day.