fandomhigh | Advanced Bird Haberdashery, Wednesday, period 2

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bird haberdashery

Advanced Bird Haberdashery, Wednesday, period 2

Duke, god love him, had honestly thought he might be able to come in and have the class do something other than bird hats, today. Maybe some bird themed yoga poses. Or read a story about a bird! He really ought to have known better.

The whole classroom was full of turkeys. Very unhappy, very aggressive turkeys.

After several moments of fending one of the largest turkeys off with a chair while — again — madly googling on his phone, Duke added a new rule to the class list:

Class rules:
1. Do not eat the birds
2. Do not FEED the birds

"Yeah, so, apparently feeding them can make them more aggressive," Duke said, trying for casual even as he was slowly chased around the front of the room by a 30 pound, belligerent bird. "So if you brought sausages to try to win these guys over . . . sorry?"

The turkey gobbled angrily at him and went after his shoes.

"So we're doing turkeys today!" Duke dropped the chair and scrambled up onto his desk. "They are large and aggressive." He glared at the turkeys. "And taste really good with cranberry sauce!"

The turkeys were undaunted.

"Also, the internet is really into the fact that apparently one of this country's founding fathers thought these guys should be our national bird." One of the turkeys at the back of the room took flight and swooped at him. "And you know what? I'm gonna give it to him. Good ol' Benny Franklin had something going there." He waved at the swooping bird and scowled. "For fucksake, stop it!"

The turkeys, startled by his volume, backed off and/or landed and started scratching at the tile and pecking around, looking for snacks. Duke sat down — still on top of his desk — and looked around for the hat instructions du jour.

"And we're apparently making them . . ." He picked up the paper and looked entirely put upon. "Fezes." He eyed the turkeys. "So . . . good luck with that."

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"The birds, or the wolves?" Duke asked. "Or the students? Apparently one of mine can turn into a tiger."

He was kind of jealous. Or -- very jealous, honestly.

"Ething," Octavia replied with a little shrug. "But, a tiger, really?"

She was maybe kind of jealous, too.

Duke tilted his head and held out his hand. "Ething na ste ogud, sha," he said, rather proud of himself for putting together the whole phrase. Sometimes, he even almost believed it. "And apparently. She threatened her turkey with it when it started pecking at her ankle."

Octavia was kind of proud of him, too.

And also suddenly reminded of why coming out of the preserve was worth her while.

She took his hand and twined her fingers with his, and gave him a faint smile. "I think I like her already."

"Thought you might," Duke said. "She's a little spacey," he really had just put the rule about not feeding the birds up! "but she's a good kid. They all are, really. And -- well, I guess the class does encourage some creative problem solving."

What with trying to put hats on birds and all.

"So not completely useless after all." Glowing praise, right there. She gave his hand a slight tug, glancing down the hall. "So... Wanna show me around a little bit? Never really made it this far before."

Honestly, he should be proud of her for making it this deep into the castle on her own in the first place. Unfamiliar, closed off spaces could still freak her out a bit, sometimes.

He was proud of her for that. He started down the hall, swinging their arms a little as he went. "Sure. It's nothing too exciting, but I do have my own office. Somewhere."

He had not spent much time in his office. Or -- any. He was pretty sure he'd been assigned one, though!

"Impressive," Octavia replied with a clear teasing tone. (Clear by her standards, anyway.) "Slightly less so that you apparently don't know where it is, though."

"I try not to spend more time than I have to in schools," Duke said. "As a general rule. Haven't since I was. . . . Jesus, like, eight."

He'd earned at least a little of his reputation in Haven, after all.

"I kind of figured," Octavia admitted, because she remembered the things he'd said before, about himself and schools. "But still more than me, so... I'm curious."

"I did do a bit more reconnaissance than I might normally during the whole 'ax heist' thing," Duke mused, then snapped his fingers. "Right, which means the offices are this way."

He knew he'd used his office for something.

Octavia gave a soft snort, but followed along, with the occasional curious glance around.

"What would you really need an office for, anyway?"

“Right? I don’t take attendance. And it’s not like I’m grading any papers or anything.” He frowned. “Maybe that’s how I ended up with the bird hat class.”

"Stop worrying it's punishment for being a bad teacher," Octavia told him with another little tug on his hand. "You're not."

"Then what's it a punishment for?" Duke asked. He was mostly kidding.

That was the trouble with believing in karma, you had a tendency to read way too much into things that happened to you.

"Nothing." Octavia shrugged. "Sometimes things just happen to you." A beat. "Especially here."

She'd been tossed around the multiverse too much to believe much of anything had a reason. Still, she gave his hand a squeeze.

"Both punishments, and rewards."

“Ah, so I have to deal with large, aggressive birds for no reason.” A beat. “Yeah, that’s not reassuring.” He chuckled and shook his head. “So. Here are the offices. I think . . . that was the one that had a rug trap.”

It was Magnus’. Naturally.

"So Magnus's," Octavia replied. No, she wasn't that good at guessing, she remembered that from when the whole heist thing had been happening. "I don't think he uses his much, either."

"Not sure anyone really does," Duke said. "Unless there's a heist, I guess. I wonder if Diaz will do another one of those. She is still calling her class 'bad ass'. . . ."

"I'm still not sure I get what that has to do with hiding crap in offices."

She also hadn't given it much thought, either.

"I think it was just an easy place to use that the kids aren't technically barred from, but don't really go into that often." Duke shrugged. "Or Diaz is just lazy. I'd buy that, too."

He and Rosa really did not get along, no.

Octavia had picked up on that, yes. "I don't think lazy is her style," she drawled, but left it at that. Instead, she nodded down the hall. "Which one's yours?"

"Number 11." Duke found it and opened the door. It was empty of any sign that it might be his, save for a note on the desk, which read:

Students of badass bitchery:
It has come to my attention that your teacher has assigned you to steal a specific item from the teachers' offices. Anyone who steals it and brings it to me instead will receive a cash prize, or item of equivalent personal value.
Cheers,
Duke Crocker, Professor of Piracy

"Yeah," Duke said, picking up the note with a smile. "I still have that hatchet, too."

He was rather proud of how that whole thing had shaken out.

Octavia leaned in to read the note, then looked up at him with a quietly amused huff and one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Wasn't this months ago?" she rasped. "Wow, you really don't come in here, ever."

"Halloween, yeah." Duke shrugged. "I guess I could start using it. . . . What do people do with offices if they're not, like, doing payroll or whatever?"

He used his office at Luke's. Mostly to hide from his kitchen staff.

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