johnny_truant: (scared)
[personal profile] johnny_truant
Goddammit. He's always hated New York.

Johnny doesn't fully understand what's just happened, but that's nothing new, is it? He's standing in the middle of Central Park - he knows it's Central Park because he's standing on top of that big weird rock formation, all those boulders heaped on top of each other for kids to climb on while their parents pretend not to be run ragged with panic, the certainty that kid will slip and fall and die. Or don't pretend. Or don't panic. The point is it's recognizable.

The point is also he wasn't here before. Like minutes before. Seconds. Blink of an eye. He was there, out there, Seattle, Portland, LA, somewhere. Somewhere in Virginia. Doesn't matter. He loses track very easily. Maybe he lost track all the way into Manhattan.

That's not right though, is it? Doesn't seem right. Doesn't feel right.

No. Something's happened. Something wrong.

Things are different. The air is different. Tastes different. It's not just New York, no. New York has a taste and a smell but this is not it. This is not right.

"No," Johnny says. "No, no, no."

He stumbles down from the misbegotten rock pile, skids, hurtles to the ground and almost hurts himself. DOES hurt himself but it's okay. Staggers. Straightens up.

He feels different. His hands are tingling. Maybe. Unless he's making that up, too.

No, it's real. He can feel things. Hear things. There's something there. Right there. Right there next to him. Oh no, no, no.

"Don't -!" He shuts himself up before he can finish his demand, snapping himself to the left, to look at the beast that he knows is there, the one he's seen so many times before, in the nighttime, in the corner of his eye, in the pages of the book. It's the thing that haunts him. One of the things. Teeth and void and claws like knives.

It's not there. It's never there. Never when he turns to see it.

And now everything else is gone too. And maybe that's good. It was all poison anyway, a toxic ruined mess. Turn your back on everything, Johnny Truant. Your everything is bad for you, and this, this transportation, whatever this is, it is a gift horse you don't need to inspect. You're not in Kansas anymore. You are new, in living color. Your demons came with you but maybe now, with your hands that don't feel right and your senses that are heightened, maybe now you can outrun them.

"Fine," he says to the park, to the city, to the situation. "Whatever you say."

There's a hesitation, like what does he do now that he's made this declaration? Start walking seems like the thing. Before he can take a step he senses he's about to step on something. He looks down. His shoes are so dirty.

It's a rabbit. Poofy, gray, twitching its nose at him. Not very skittish, surprisingly so, he thinks. Then again he hasn't been around too many rabbits.

"Uhhh," he says. "Hi."

The rabbit is apparently content to just hang out next to his shoe.

Johnny looks around. Does this rabbit belong to someone? Scratch that, does he care? No. Motivated by something, god knows what, he leans down and scoops the rabbit up into his arms. He half expects it to start wriggling and kicking, but it seems fine with this. Okay. This is the first thing that's not wanted to get the hell away from him in a long time. It's kind of nice, actually.

"Nice to meet you to," he says. "Uh. Thumper."

First thing to pop into his head. Oh god. Is it sick to name it Thumper? It's sick, right? Definitely sick.

Whatever. Thumper is a WELL KNOWN CARTOON RABBIT. No one has to know it's also what he called the stripper he almost made it with. Almost. It'll be like an homage. Sure. That's not weird. Not weird at all.

He tucks Thumper under his arm and starts moving.


[[he's gonna wander around for a while, so feel free to approach him!]]
wildmage_daine: (a whale needs me)
[personal profile] wildmage_daine
Daine wakes up with an unfamiliar weight on her chest and her mind ablaze with copper fire. For a moment, that's all she can see even after she opens her eyes, but a few blinks bring the world into focus… or they should. But her view has been obstructed by a mound of off-white fluff.

Daine, Daine, Daine! Sarge has, from the sound of things, been repeating her name for some time. Perhaps that's what woke her. Daine, they're everywhere! He doesn't sound upset, just excited, but it's still enough to wake her fully. In a moment, she realizes that the unfamiliar weight on her chest is, in fact, a rabbit. And that there's another rabbit on her desk, and three more huddled under the bed where Sarge can't reach them. Molly probably could, but the terrier is sitting over by the door.

I can smell more outside, she says.

"It's all right," Daine says automatically, mostly for the benefit of the rabbits beneath the bed. Sarge might not mean them any harm, but his enthusiasm can be daunting, especially for prey animals. Moving slowly so as not to spook the creature on top of her, she carefully lifts the rabbit off of her chest. "Odd's bobs," she mutters. This is far more fur than she thought a rabbit could have. Daine sits up and finally takes a proper look at the creature… and finds it impossible not to grin. If she couldn't tell it was a rabbit by the feel of its mind, she'd never believe it. It looks like a toy.

"Hullo," Daine says, brushing some of its fur aside until she uncovers one of its eyes. "What's your name?"

Puffbucket, the rabbit replies, quite seriously. I think I'm lost.

You're not the only one. That came from the auburn animal atop her desk. From beneath her bed, there's a timid chorus: Us, too.

"All right, let's get you all up on the bed. Don't worry about the dogs, they won't hurt you." She first sits on the floor to coax out the three beneath the bed, whose names turn out to be Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur; unaware of the reference, Daine accepts the names without blinking as she lifts them up to join Puffbucket. The rabbit on the desk introduces herself as Agent Scully, which does strike Daine as an odd choice (why call a rabbit 'Agent' anything?), but she merely shrugs and puts her with the others. "You'll be safe here. I'll go get you some food, all right?"

Broccoli? Puffbucket asks, lifting his head.

"I'll try," Daine promises. Truth be told, she mostly just wants an excuse to leave that won't upset them. They will be perfectly safe in her room - but the same can't necessarily be said for all the other rabbits in the base. And it feels like there might be an awful lot of them.

Instructing Sarge and Molly to stick close, Daine opens her door and peers out into the hallway. "Oh, my," she murmurs as she takes it all in. There are at least a dozen rabbits out in the hallway, some huddled together near the wall, and others lolloping along the stone floor like low, mobile clouds. "They really are everywhere."

[OOC: Consider this Daine's open rebel base post. If you'd like to have any of your characters bump into her here at some point during the day, have at it!]
applesaucemod: (Default)
[personal profile] applesaucemod
On the morning of May 6th, 2013, the citizens of Rift York will awaken to find themselves with a new and unexpected roommate. Or two. Or five. The good news: these new roommates don't eat much, they're quiet, and they're pretty adorable. The bad news: no one asked for their homes to be overrun by Angora rabbits.

The rift isn't in the habit of giving people what they ask for, though, so you're just going to have to deal with these bunnies everywhere until the evening of May 8th, when they will disappear as mysteriously and suddenly as they arrived. In the meantime, you might consider them a goodwill gesture from a rift that isn't always so kind. The rabbits seem to be most heavily concentrated in areas where rifties are staying, after all. While Manhattan at large might not appreciate the full extent of the bunnypocalypse, the rifties will find the creatures quite difficult to avoid.



Feel free to post your character's reactions here, or to make your own entries under the event tag. The event will be running for the next two days in-game, or through January 19th in real life. As ever, backdating is allowed and encouraged.

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The Big Applesauce

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