Birds. He hates the pesky little creatures, and wishes they would find someone else to annoy. They’re all over him; although, quite figuratively, of course. Pigeons and crows mostly peck at his shoes, despite his constant attempts at shooing them away. They act as if he’s throwing breadcrumbs to them, sitting on a bench like he is. He’s not, really, and doesn’t understand why they find his shoelaces so tasty. He did not ask for this.

He doesn’t know it yet, but these are the least of his problems. If he knew Azrael had taken the life of his sister in turn for his, well… he wouldn’t be sitting in the park, trying to ward off disgusting winged rats.

He lights a cigarette in hopes that it will drive away the birds, and takes a thoughtful drag. A few skitter, hop, and fly along on their way, but several mangy feathered creatures remain. He doesn’t get it. Vega pushes a lock of black hair from his scarred eye and brushes his foot forward again. The offending birds hop back for a moment, but then resume to pick apart his shoes.

It’s almost sundown. The sun sinks lazily behind the trees, leaving a soft, ambient sort of glow that will fade in no more than an hour. The air is humid and muggy, and gives promise that this will not be a cold night.

On the bench beside him is a grocery bag, filled with an assortment of household items. He doesn’t want to go home and put them away just yet, but maybe the birds will drive him off. The bugs are really starting to gnaw, too, and he’s thankful he bothered with jeans and a long-sleeved white tee, even if it is hot.

The pigeons start to coo again.

Birds. Damn birds.

Shen likes birds. He wouldn't say he reveres them, but there is envy and respect for them that manifests whenever he sees one unfurling its wings and taking flight high above.

They aren't bad company either, of course, when you have a few slices of bread to share with them. They don't insult him or talk back much sans the occasional coo, so that's a plus.

So, on the odd day he isn't busy with work or school, he likes to pay the local park's birds a visit, usually before his nightly runs. Any stale bread is kept for those stops at the one bench the flock usually gathers around. Hey, better than pitching it in the garbage and letting it become a complete waste of food.

He's strolling along Redway's cobblestone path now, unceremoniously swinging about a plastic bag of dried-out pumpernickel, when, a few yards from his destination, he notices the additional figure on the bench, pigeons and crows alike thronging and pecking at the stranger...who doesn't seem very pleased with situation. Shen's mouth quirks wryly. Good.

As he resumes his gait, he reaches into the bag and rips off a chunk of the dark bread. Without as much as a glance to Vega, he tosses the small, stale slab a few feet away from the bench. Beady, little eyes follow this desirable rye and abruptly flutter off of the once deceased man to temporarily fight for the scrap.

Only then does Shen spare his gray stare on the other, looking somehow simultaneously bored, annoyed, and even amused, perhaps.

"Don't like birds?" That's a no-brainer, but there's a subtle jive to the inquiry.

His head tilts, curiosity piqued as the distraction seems to arrive from nowhere. He's thankful, though he doesn't choose to show it, and his gaze lingers a moment on the scrap Shen tossed. He honestly would've chucked it farther, but he supposes the stranger doesn't understand his situation. He's glad for the reprieve of his feathery company, and allows himself a drag of his cigarette. He blows out smoke, a single black brow lifted. He wonders whether to dignify the man with a response, looking idly down at his destroyed shoes.

Then he sighs out smoke, the long white cylinder poised in between the fingers of his left hand.

"You wouldn't, either, if they were destroying your fucking property." He offers a tight smile, clearly unamused.

"They're disgusting." He taps the end of his cigarette and gives Shen a look that suggests he thinks him to be an idiot.

He watches the birds devour the stale food, and wonders if they'll come back to bother him again.

Shen considers for a moment whether to lob the next portion at this stranger's head.

Just for shits and giggles.

He also turns his gaze to the damaged 'property', studying them blandly.

"...Buy less desirable shoes? That might deter them. Or, you know, you could just leave," he states with bluntness, as if this is the most obvious answer in the world. He prides himself in being an asshole, too, especially when his bench is being occupied.

"Humans can be more foul than any bird." His eyes rest boldly now on Vega before returning to the aerial congregation, another piece of bread thrown into the crowd.

Something about him just rubs Shen the wrong way, and he's letting his actions voice this loud and clear.

Vega snorts, leering at Shen. He gives a glance to his bag of groceries, wondering why this guy was trying to pick a fight with him. His brows draw together in annoyance, and once again he brings the cigarette to his lips.

"I wasn't asking you for advice on life, Dr. Phil." He drops his right hand into his lap, eyeing the repugnant little creatures that flap their wings in a frenzy at the newest offering.

"I can see that." He almost wishes the birds were still bothering him instead of Shen. "You're awfully damn annoying yourself."

He shrugs his shoulders. He's got the bench, and doesn't intend to give it up.

Shen isn't necessarily trying to start something. He just wants his damn bench back, please, and then everything will be just peachy. Well, to an extent.

"It wasn't advice on life; it was common sense." He enunciates the phrase like a mother teaching her toddler a new word, but with much more acrimony. "If you hate the birds so damn much, then go away from them." He even gestures to the front of the park for added emphasis. "It's a difficult concept, I know, but I'm sure you'll figure out the details."

My, he's being extra moody today. If he would take the moment to reflect on it, he'd probably see that it's because of their similarities...particularly in temperament.

"Likewise, idiot."

He takes a final drag, flicking the cigarette to the ground and smothering it with his already ruined shoe. He glances up, gaze half-lidded in annoyance, and then slowly folds his arms over his chest. He doesn't look like he's listening, much less paying attention, to Shen.

Then his forehead crinkles in an odd way, his lips stretchng downswards into a frown; he is clearly not in the mood for this. It isn't like he asked for the birds to make a feast of his apparel, and besides that, isn't about to let birds get the best of him.

"What's got your panties all up in a bunch?"

He doesn't acknowledge the insult; in fact, he rather acts like it'd never been uttered.

Shen bristles a little at this insulting query but reigns his annoyance.

Because he had paused from his bread tossing, the absence of more nourishment has led the 'rats with wings' back to Vega, where they happily resume pecking at his footwear. Shen can't help but smirk cheekily.

Not helping you out this time, bastard.

"I should ask you the same. Getting pissy about some birds, sheesh..."

Vega deflates, much like a withering balloon at a child's birthday party, slumping his shoulders. A frustrated sigh escapes his lips, and-- oh, look, his friends are back again. This does not bring a smile to his face.

"Scat!" He's rather aggravated at this point, and goes as far as swatting the mangy critters away. They don't seem to get the idea, and instead attack his hand.

"And I suppose you think it's normal for them to flock around me like a fresh piece of meat."

He stands, snatching his plastic grocery bag with gusto. Annoyance is clear on his face.

"Where do you get off, ruining people's evenings?" He's walking towards Shen now, and the birds follow him, much to his dismay. It's not particularly normal for birds to follow people, and he, quite frankly, is disconcerted by their rude behavior.

Shen shrugs at the initial statement. He likes birds; doesn't mean he necessarily understands what they see in this guy. If he had been one of them, he personally would have dropped excrement on Vega's head from above. But that's just him.

His muscles tense upon seeing the latter rise and move closer, but he stands his ground, as usual. He tilts his head back a little to meet his gaze squarely.

"Well, I'm just returning the favor." Yes, he considers it very incriminating to taking his favorite bench. That's just how much of a git he can be. He has the potential to be a really nice guy or a misery-inducing bastard, depending upon that first impression.

Looks like Vega had shoved him in the wrong direction. Don't worry, most people do that, too.

If it's any consolation, as Vega moves forward, so do the birds. He has this look on his face that suggests he, perhaps, woke up on the wrong side of the bed and doesn't need to deal with this mockery.

He goes to the extent of getting up in Shen's face. He looks like he's about to punch him with his fist clenched like that. At six feet tall, he towers over the tiny Asian boy and offers a nasty scowl. The birds peck interestedly at Vega's new friend's shoes.

"Look. I've done nothing to you, kid. Returning what favor?" There's agitation in his voice. He's still no more than two inches away from Shen.

Most people might shrink under such an intimidatingly tall person. Shen, having to always be different, doesn't even waver at the scowl Vega pulls for him.

On the contrary, he looks just as exasperated as his opponent does. Calling him 'kid' probably didn't help to stave off the elemental's temper either.

"For having someone aid you in temporarily removing those birds, you're awfully ungrateful," he mutters with a dry snort.

He's wearing old sneakers, so the pigeons beaking it doesn't concern him as much as it obviously does for this guy.

"Just wanted my bench, you know." Oh, and look! It's surprisingly vacant now. The one corner of his mouth rises a little as he moves to fluidly step around Vega. "Thanks for giving it up."

"They're back, aren't they?" He reasons, unclenching his fists and spreading his hands, gesturing with his speech.

Then, oh. Oh. That makes him angry, and he makes a face that is generally unappealing to look at. He reaches for Shen's shirt, snatching a fistful of the fabric. "Your bench? Is that all you cared about? There are dozens of them here."

He tries to kick the birds out of the way, scowl deepening.

"I said 'temporarily', didn't I? I would've continued if you weren't be a fuckin' jerk about it," grumbles Shen, giving the plastic bag a little shake. A few of the birds raise their heads, alert of the bread's whereabouts.

And then this guy has the audacity - well, they both had been pretty audacious tonight - to fist the front of his shirt and jerk him back closer, causing a few of the birds to scatter around their feet. Shen glowers up at him.

"Yes, but this one's mine because it's where most of the birds gather and, unlike you, I like them." God, he feels like a broken record right now. "So, why don't you go off to one of these other benches that lack any of these 'disgusting' birds and I'll feed them here and we'll both be peachy." At least, until he runs out of bread and the birds find their way back to Vega. He hadn't said it's a perfect plan.

"And, please...let the fuck go."

"Maybe I like being a fuckin' jerk." He doesn't spare a glance to the birds this time-oh no, his attention is placed elsewhere. His brown gaze rests upon Shen's figure, eyebrows knitting together.

His mouth hangs open unattractively for a moment, and then he clenches his teeth. "I wasn't aware that the filthy creatures flocked here. It's just my bad, I guess. Feed them your trash... hell if I care."

He shoves the elemental forward, more or less granting his request, and turns to leave.

A rather small bird flutters down from a nearby tree to land on his shoulder, which further aggravates him. Maybe Shen doesn't notice, but they seem to be attracted to him like moths to a flame.

Shen takes the few forced steps backwards from the power of the shove, the air rustling around them. He glares back at the other man's retreating back, cursing him out in Mandarin beneath his breath.

But it looks like he's now free to go back to his original intentions, so, with a lingering lour at Vega, he tears open the bag again while approaching his much-deserved bench. He chucks a whole slice of the 'trash' at the birds with a little more vigor than needed.

Not all of the birds are bothering to stay, however, as a few still trail behind the other scowling man now departing. Reluctantly, he flicks his stare up from his own small bevy to the cursed being, watching as a bird swoops down to settle on Vega.

"...So, what, you have no idea why they like you so damn much?" Despite his choice of words, he doesn't sound accusing; grudgingly curious is more accurate to describe his tone. And he doesn't really expect an answer, but he's throwing it out there.

He takes several steps forward, grocery bag rustling and crinkling with his slow gait. Then, with somewhat of a snarl, brushes the bird off his shoulder and continues on his way, disregarding Shen's Mandarin swearing session.

Then he pauses, noticing not all the birds have flown away... even after Shen tosses them more stale bread. He turns halfway, giving the Asian a sideways glance.

"Know any way to get rid of them?" He answers him in a rather strange way, implying that he'd have done away with them if he knew how. It's a recent thing, and he is far too stubborn to get used to it.

He's tempted to say he'd withhold that information even if he did know, but Shen's losing some of his petulance, now that he's regained his rightful place in the park. He peers down at two pigeons squabbling over one of the tiny bits. Looks rather familiar.

"Not particularly, besides getting a dog or a shotgun," he speculates with yet another shrug. "They're being awfully stubborn, though." He watches as his own birds begin to trickle away to flit after Vega, now that they had devoured the slice completely.

"You're like a fuckin' pied piper to them. What the hell?"

"Funny, because I just thought it was the particular bench that was drawing them to me." He glowers at Shen, but the look quckly dies away as he decides he's beating a dead horse.

"A dog, yeah. I'll look into that." He seriously contemplates it, taking several steps to the side. The sparrow settles itself on his other shoulder, gobbling up a passing mosquito. Handy, that.

Then he just stands there, looking defeated.

"You think I want them here?"

He is beyond exasperated.

"I'm sorry. You weren't brought into the picture until now." He tries to keep his tone from being snippy, but still his dark eyes narrow. My, the bench is becoming a touchy subject.

"Maybe as a mosquito repellent." He studies how the sparrow is snatching up the insects whizzing close to Vega's skull and smirks.

Still, he can't help but be intrigued by this unusual behavior in the birds, despite how grudging he feels towards this guy, and he makes a low, thoughtful sound in his throat.

"Guess this started recently? Well...can't think of anything even a little unusual that has happened to you? Might've caused this, for all you know. Can't imagine anything that would attract birds to an individual like that, though...sans you becoming whole wheat, maybe."

Dying probably is included in being an oddity. Extra points if one's revived, too.

"Ha ha ha." His lips tighten into a smirk. It's more of an aggressive smile, actually, and makes him look somewhat unsettling.

He shoves one hand into his pocket, fingers fishing around for a cigarette in the near empty carton. He quirks a brow at Shen's remark and then offers a frown. Suddenly, though, he snorts. His frown deepens and his forehead wrinkles.

"Weird thing that's happened to me recently? Man... that sounds like a bad joke." It may seem strange, but this is his interpretation of vague friendliness.

His mind is on other things, though. He is going to kill that damn god.

Oh, the irony.

Shen watches the changes shift and flicker on the other man's face before he finally settles with an intent frown that the former deems is from realization.

He purses his own brow in regard to Vega's words and, distracted, lets go of the piece of rye he had been clasping in his fingers. Only two hungry birds bother to stick around to tear it apart ravenously.

"I'm assuming that's a 'yes', then." He tries to sound nonchalant, but curiosity can be heard faintly trying to urge him to elaborate further.

The birds manage to pull a thread loose from his shoelace and resume their attempts in unraveling it completely. By now he has almost given up, but... they are all over him and spreading gross diseases, so he tries again to fend off his winged acquaintances.

"Yes, it's a yes." His face doesn't ease back into it's natural expression, even as he lights up another cigarette and places it between his pale lips. Instead, it contorts further as he delves deeper into the subject in his mind.

He takes a drag, and suddenly the frown is forced away from his features.

"Azrael, that bastard." To anyone not informed, it's just a name.

He sighs, smoke billowing from his mouth, and looks down to Shen for a moment before announcing, "I gotta go."

The sparrow, bothered by the smoke, has temporarily flown off.

He mouthes the name Azrael to himself; it is just a name to him, though an odd one.

Who the hell names their kid that? Sounds goth (in the angsty, black-and-PVC-donning sense of the word). Must be a nickname.

"Good luck with that, then," he answers in light acknowledgment of Vega's leave, shrugging once more. "And with the birds."

Because, even in spite of the smoke, they're shuffling around near him, waiting to approach again once the acrid smell is gone.

"Fuck. Seems like I'm dragging your little friends with me." He heaves a dramatic sigh, throwing up his hands in defeat. The cherry on the end of his cigarette is still visible.

"Seeya 'round, kid."

And he's gone, his posse of birds following diligently behind him.