The City of Dreamed Ambitions, Third Arc

[Fanlourau]

(Begun the roleplay now)

A small white bird flew as quick as it's wings allowed it to travel. Beneath it, lay the city of Birgehildr, named after the godess of the sun.
From the birds view, the main streets and alleys formed the pattern of a spidersweb, with the buildings nestled together groupwise.
The little bird had been sent from the northcentral part of the community and headed towards the southwestern part. After it, flew a larger, grey bird, carrying what looked like a package, which was exactly what it was.

In the city of Birgehildr, there is no mailmen or carriers, instead, birds of all sizes and forms have been bred and trained to do all deliveries.
From little reminding notes to head home for dinner, to moving around larger goods.

This little white bird had flown with an order to a book and pen supply store and now guided the larger grey bird with the requested items back to the white birds owner.

The Pen and Ink guild of the west, where the writers greatest resided, sent out seven white birds each week, to keep their writers writing without end.

There were many other birds who flew in the sky.
To the Colour and Form Guild in the East, to the Song and Dance Guild of the North, the commoners in the south and the Masters in the midst of it all.

Birgehildr City you see, is the city of Artists of all kinds.
If art is to live, Birgehildr is a city where no one truly dies.

[lightningdude]

A young man with sun-kissed brown hair stepped out of a storage shed, a small bird in his hand. Attached to it's right leg was a small piece of parchment. The well-built man held the blue bird upward. It flapped its blue wings, the black feathers at its shoulders glistening in the sunlight.

"Away, my friend, you know the route. The director will be pleased to know that we still have the decorations we need."

With a gentle lift of the young man's hands, the bird flew away gracefully, the important message entrusted to its well-trained wings.

With a smile, the man turned around and faced the shed. He dusted off his blue tunic, then unbuckled the tool belt around his waist. With one quick motion, the young man set his belt on a shelf just inside the shed door and drew the door closed. He withdrew a key from a pocket in his tan pants, locked the door, then dropped the key back in his pocket.

Whistling a somber tune, the young man began to walk back into the main part of town.

[Laphir]

"FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

A voice sang.

A voice so strong, so rich, so majestic that it was claimed to have raise goose pimples and/or evoke tears upon hearing.

A voice that could only belong to Rafael de Schtauffen, Black Rose of Birgehildr, who stood alone on the stage for voice practice.

It was a bit difficult to describe him. Some would say that his hair was of molten gold... but a few artists boldly claimed that its radiance was of stronger than gold, comparable to the brightness of the sun! His face, his athletic figure... Down to his shiny shoes... Ohh, he was perfection! *insert squealing cue here*.

Rafael stopped... and listened. Silence filled the air. Good. The last thing he wanted was to be caught by a fan or something. The others would not arrive so quickly, meaning he had an hour free to practice.

The young man cleared his throat, and launched into another, err, voice test.

"Faaaaaaaa-fa-fa-ra-fa-ra-no-no-no-no-nyr-nyrrr!"

[Fanlourau]

In the eastern part of Birgehildr, a blue-tipped painting brush gently hovered in the hand of an aged woman. When younger, she used to travel the world and see the wonders beyond Birgehildr and paint the sceneries, the people, the creatures, the sky, the earth, the sea and at some occasions, even the wind. Many of these memories had been put up on the walls, cielings, galleries and even the theatres.
Alas, her aging body no longer allowed her to travel the world, so she had to paint from old memories, which caused loss of soul in them as she could not fully do them justice without her muse breathing the wild airs. Her great prime was something of the past and she merely painted now because she could not imaging a life without colour.

A knocking sound on the window caused her to lift away the brush long enough to open the window for the green long-legged bird perching on her small balcony. It reminded of a crane, except the feathers coloration, a green body, blue facial mask and a little silver on the top of the head.
The aged owner opened the balcony door for her winged pet and it strided inside.
It seemed reluctant to hand over the letter to her, as if it knew what was written inside.

'Breezebris, it will be alright. I am an old lady that have begun to forget things, have harder to move around and need to live in the elders home, that is why I need to...' she stopped a moment, taking a look at the painting she was currently doing. A painting of the room she was standing in now. The room and everything within it.
'... say farwell to this Atelier, which we have many good memories from. It will become the atelier of a new painter, with dreams just like we had when we were young. My son will take care of you, as elder homes require us to only use their birds. My son however, can use you to write to me. So we will still see each other, Breezebris.' she stroked the green birds head lovingly.

She had have many birds over the years, but Breezebris was special to her. It had lived for twelve years, and would live for five years more, before it would slumber the eternal sleep.
'Make sure peck at him when he is oversleeping. And kick at him when he is being tricked. He have many good qualities, always had, but he is hopeless when it comes to those two things.' both the old lady and Breezebris chuckled.

[Fanlourau]

The bird Breezebris put its head on its owners hand, as if sorry to part ways with her.
'So so, I am merely asking you to look after Refl. Good kid, always been... But I wonder how he can get any work done with his two bad habits.' she said as she stoke the bird and strapped on a harness onto the bird.
Onto the harness she again strapped on a package, large and heavy enough to nearly not allowing Breezebris to fly, but only almost.

And with that, it turned towards the balcony at the window, spread its wings and took off.