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The ruffle of shedding blue feathers was never easy for the blue tissue box.
And Tisha never had to like the constant task of bustling with the waste of time treating her molting feathers when the seasonal time comes in.
Neither would she appreciate the existence of puffed-up head feathers causing the fluff to fall onto the floors, making a mess that she has to clean every time.
She can never understand the exact reason they decided to turn her “tissues” into feathers when she was created after Delilah realized her mistake when making the fossil toon—who came first—having been given inaccurate features of scales over the truthfully feathered extinct creatures.
She was made to represent the failure.
And that hurt to remember when they're constantly right there.
The fluffy toon always hated them because of that awful reminder.
No one could ever convince the bird to like them.
The messes she would wake up to after hours of going around the center cleaning up with her usual routine made her frustrated, Tisha was never able to be free from the misery of picking up her own feathers almost every time.
Her talons would constantly scratch at her arm where a stray bit of fuzz was coming out in the wrong place or was just uncomfortable in her position, upturned, or particularly a stubborn one to pull out. Sharp claws pick at the think threads of beta-keratin… Which causes her fluff to fuzz up before her tail feathers would spread out in frustration.
This happened every time. Every single, time it’s unbearable.
— 🪶 —
One day, she was silently sweeping at the edge of a bookshelf with her trusty feather duster, but soon after getting the majority of the wooden planks ridden of their dust — she found herself staring at a hard spot to reach… That particularly annoyed her to the point where—
Fwoosh! Her soft gray appendage spreads apart, as then the familiar sound of the fluff puffing out reaches her ears.
Tisha’s eyes widen as her head feathers, or tissues, drooped backward. Impatient brown talons tapped out as they stretch, the claws scratched against the wooden floors of the corner of a rainbow room she was in; poking into the fabricated carpet below.
Slow breaths…
That turned into harsh breaths…
Tisha’s tail feathers station together before drooping behind her freckled legs. Grumbling, the tissue box then finds herself scraping talons at her head on the sides of the flaps on the sides of her head holding it up together.
That's when a small, yet scratchable-sounding screech whistles up her throat after she drops her feather duster onto the ground.
For the first time in her existence, and experiencing this constant feeling of being nagged by the afterthought of the cause of her feathers and the torment — Tisha was over the patience as she kicked the cleaning tool with another avian squeak.
She storms off with the keratin-ed nails of her feet scraping against the lengthy brown floors and down the hall… Prancing in a place like the bird she was at heart.
The tissue box was over it.
— 🦕 —
With boxes in her arms, the fossilized cephalopod mollusk hums as she walks down one of the center’s staff-only rooms. The door with the small piece of artwork with the words “Staff Only” creaks, and she uses her back to push open the door so she get through.
Her clawed feet lightly scratch against the floor as she walks, and her sickle-clawed inner toe occasionally taps on the floor while walking.
The fossil’s arms hold the cardboard boxes, before using her foot to close the door from behind. Although she has to deal with the constant pressure of being unseen by the show’s audience the center besides her toon handler, the toon was still optimistic… Or at least tried her hardest too.
But despite it all, there was someone who cared about her the most, who was able to handle her dinosaur facts, and even help her during the toughest of days…
Speaking of which.
She looked at the door across the hall, the one of the same name but with the visual or Astro on the sign, this was where she was bringing items over to store them someplace else.
That was until…
Her enhanced hearing then picks up what sounded like shuffling down the call, leading the way to the main area with the large tree. The fossilized toon perks her shelled head upright with eyes wide open, picking up on a familiar noise from the distance.…
She proceeds to pick up on what appeared to be soft materials rubbing against one another. Her stoned tail perks up after being dragged across the floor all day, “…Hm?” The shell tilts her head; blinking, as she's trying to make up what it could be…
Shelly took a moment to register when a thump sounded from behind the door. The tail lifted up even more as the sound was followed by a startled squawk and ruffling of feathers.
This makes Shelly put the box down from the top of the small staircase near the small platform she was walking across.
The fossilized toon then walks across the rainbow carpet to the center of the lobby, where the three large elevators are actively open. She adjusts the goggles on her forehead, before squinting as she hears a screech across wood…
And then she stops as she glimpses at the sight before her.
A bundle of feathers that were spread across one of the benches, a mix of whites and grays from the left side and right side…
That's when she realizes as she sees a fallen Tisha; who was currently all puffed up with her yellow pupils sharp in surprise.
“Tisha??”
She gets a squeak from the avian-like toon, who was irritatedly trying to clean up the feathers that have once again made a complete mess — Clearly, this was beyond the usual shedding even for her friend…
However Shelly was still staring from the shock.
While the tissue box’s stuck-up head feathers were puffed out from the surprise, she was still lying slumped… Completely dazed.
“Tisha!”The fossilized toon shouts in worry, which makes said tissue box screech before a tweet comes out as Shelly appears to have had a worried tone in her voice.
Tisha immediately sits up from her position, looking around at the mess in her arms as the white feathers are noticeable compared to the color of her blue feathers. This makes her habit kick in she forgets Shelly was there, “No, no! Quit falling out!” She trills as her talons start scratching at her arms — Tail still fluffed up to the brim as she sits up.
…Something was up.
She then feels a hand on her shoulder, as she looks back at the scaly fingertips that belonged to the dinosaur-like toon… The touch appears to make the tissue box freeze, eyes wide open.
Shelly looked down, holding her breath as she was completely prepared for the bird to flip out and try to get out of her group she took Tisha’s shoulder, “Let’s… get you back to your room. Okay?” she said, soft as ever.
Reluctantly with her head feathers returning to their original position; she nodded non-verbally.
— 🧹🐚 —
Her senses were much more… Calm, now. Shelly had insisted that Tisha had to sit down for a moment, needing the tissue box to be calmer so she could try to communicate.
A tap comes from one of the tissue box’s claws against the ground.
And then another, which comes from a drawer in the corner of the as it clicks when closed.
A squeaky tone reaches through Tisha’s throat, voice lower than usual as her tail feathers quick, “…Where did you go--” She finally spoke, although softer. The avian-like toon squeaks, chest feathers puffing up as she lowers her head in the plumage.
Soft, careful strokes from a bristled feeling on the top of her feathered head caused a flush in the bird’s face to the point she was trying to see what was going on.
A soft smile appears on the fossil's face.
The cleaning toon stares… Before she realizes what the sensation is.
At the feeling of her head feathers and “hair” being brushed, a soft coo slowly rolls through her throat. The brush was soft, and the strokes being made from the fossil were heartwarming and sweet.
“…Hmm…”
The fossil watched as the tissue box's eyes squint, nearly closing as if she were close to falling asleep. Instead, the avian-like toon blinked away, still shocked at the touch that had always calmed her every time she was overwhelmed… Shelly loved to help when she could.
The fossilized toon’s tail starts wagging. As the delicate and smooth fuzz in the feathers made her lightly hum under her breath, “Not bad to feel like you’re getting a spa treatment with the combing, isn't it?” she asked with humor, but the tone stayed the same as she gets at the fluff of the feathers.
Shelly’s eyes widened at the sight. Her gaze glared down as she noticed a specific spot knotted up into the brush bristles — Stubborn, and tangled up. As if the tissue box has been…
Tisha tried to look away. However; Shelly’s optimism and kindness beats her to it, “Do you…” The moment is stopped as the box freezes in place before her gaze shifts from the brush to the fossil’s face, “…Why is it so—”
The fossil watches as an uncomfortable appears in the tissue box's eyes. And then the avian-like toon speaks up, “Well I haven't been brushing these knots out…” She starts, looking down as her tail feathers begin to fan out — Concerned.
“Everything else is just—-” She stopped with her tail bouncing, “I can't help cleaning up everywhere, you know!”
She waited for the fossil's reaction, gazing the other way. She couldn't have the heart to tell her the truth... Even though, the answer begins that she was so focused on cleaning that she had forgotten one important thing: self-care.
Expecting to get a side comment, a look of either confusion or even disgust, Tisha was surprised to see empathy in the extinct dinosaur-like toon’s eyes as one of the scaled hands cups the side of her face. She freezes, head feathers sticking up in surprise.
“It's okay. I can help you!” She states, her optimism leaning through her tone of voice…
A hope.
The tissue box's head feathers drop backward as she listens closely, eyes glancing at the other toon's own. “Your fuzz is so silky, too! It's like I’m touching the clouds outside in the sky,” Shelly started to rant before it turned into a mumble. She continues, “…I’m glad to be helping you out, Tisha.”
The added sentence at the end was very... Touching. Literally.
She feels her head leaning against the fossil's claws, her own brown talons relaxing from the tension… Finally, she lets her guard down by closing her eyes as she gives the fossil access to more of her feathers with a soft chirp.
“Dawww-” Shelly playfully teases. The bird huffed as she soon leaned her head until her chest feathers. However, she seemed much more relaxed as her tail feathers also flattened. They were no longer stuck up straight out of discomfort…
Soft.
They were delicate in the fossil's touch. And it seemed that they always had been.
—
After a few minutes, they both started up a conversation about how the main toons were doing. Shelly seemed to be happier than usual, as she was cracking up on a new core memory.
“You should've seen the look on his face!” She nearly crackled while putting a clawed hand to her face as she was finishing up a spot on Tisha’s tail feathers… Which, the tissue box continued to watch and listen… “Sprout was so mad that Vee almost burnt down the kitchen!”
Tisha’s head tilts as she looks behind her shoulder, and up to the fossil's face.
“…But she's a robot. Robots don't exactly… Need to eat.”
The fossil then glanced down-- Before a look on her face conveyed what looked to be… A sore thumb? Heartache? It was as if having to explain was more tough than it should've been.
Shelly starts using her claws to let through Tisha’s tail feathers, which earns a blush from the former, “Well… Haven't you heard?” Tisha gave her friend a half-lidded glare, before the fossilized toon had a sudden look on her face, as she remembered how the tissue box rarely catches up with announcements about the one and only Vee.
The words sorry, were clear in the past toon's eyes in apologies, “She’s recently been, um… Taken. By someone.” Shelly quietly said as the look of realization appeared on the tissue box's expression.
Her brown talons immediately twitch as she moves her palm to Shelly’s knee. She knew about the fossils… Long-lasting affection towards the television. She furrows her eyebrow at the thought of Vee but emphasizes with Shellys feelings.
“Sorry for you that this happened,” The tissue box calmly spoke up, using her thumb to caress the side of the fossil's leg. She looks with a face that proves her true feelings for this beloved fossil. “These things… Happen.”
She paused before continuing, “And there's nothing we can do but see how this goes. It's going to be okay.”
Then earns a smile from the latter.
To silently let that topic be over, Tisha notices the brushes begin to become slower. She turns her head upwards, as the fossil slows down.
Oh… “That’s all I could find—” All of it is cleaned? Already? “Oop!” Now, that the topic has changed… Of course, by the time she wanted to relax, the fossil was done within those seconds. Like every time!
Tisha breathes a sigh of relief.
Zero feathers on the ground at that time, and not a single piece of fuzz flew off without Shelly noticing while grooming.
Silence filled the room.
As the tissue box shifted on where she was sitting on a crate in front of the fossil, she stopped as soon as she stood up and turned around to say one last thing to the fossil.
“And I wanted you to know, Tisha,” The fossilized toon took the tissue box’s talons into her claws.
Tisha could feel every bit of the scales across Shelly’s skin at her fingertips.
“You can come to me when you need more preening for your soft feathers!” She enthusiastically remarked, the elongated spiked tail behind her legs swinging back and forth.
She was always the sweetest toon she knew in the entirety of the GardenView Center.
Maybe...
Maybe they could try.. that. What Vee accomplished. Someday.
With super dilated pupils, the tissue box gives the other toon a slow blink — Chest feathers tickling her face as Tisha sat there with a chirp trickling up her throat, “…Okay.”
They just needed more time.