Event: the Bother with Bunnies

[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.

Comments

[erratic_hematic]

Spike shrugs in response. "Stronger than you'd wanna eat, for sure." That is, to get what anyone might call a decent amount of flavor it's got to be over the top on spices. "Regular stuff is okay. Bit boring."

He takes another sip from his mug, during which he realizes that she might have actually had a reason for asking. She had kind of shoved baked goods at him once upon a dream. The idea is a bit amusing to him, but he's definitely willing to entertain the notion if it involves her coming around to feed him.

He tips his head to the side, holding back a smug smile. "Why? You gonna bake me more muffins?"

[rae_of_sun]

Maybe. "No," she says, and she knows it was too quick and too defensive and any second now he's going to start smirking at her over the rim of his mug of blood, because let's not forget the mug of blood. Yet the feed people gene is still there, muttering things like: muffins wouldn't work anyway; there are easier recipes to adapt to a vampire lite palate...

But she's not going to try, because Spike is an asshole and she doesn't care if he'd like anything she made. If she made it. Which she won't. Shut up, Spike. And put on a shirt.

"… Unless you're placing an order," she says. Because hell if she's making him something for free, but turning down money would just be stupid.

[erratic_hematic]

He rolls his eyes at her response. As far as he's concerned, she's the one that brought it up in the first place. He doesn't particularly want a business relationship with Sunshine, even he would like to try whatever it is she could come up with. To have her drop the line of thought that was maybe leading to her coming back over with a basket of cookies free of charge is a bit of a blow to his ego.

"I can bake my own muffins, thanks." Which he is totally capable of doing. Probably. How hard could it be? It's just that he's never really had much reason to start baking things while he was rampaging across Europe.

The point is, he definitely doesn't need to buy anything from Sunshine.

[rae_of_sun]

It was academic curiosity, Spike. It's not her fault you're a vampire lite who doesn't follow any of the rules she knows. Anyway, you have to earn free treats from her somehow, and she's not in any hurry to make him things he probably wouldn't even like because they'd be too 'boring' sans modification.

"Muffins are easy," she counters, because they are. That's why she can churn them out so quickly. "But if it's intensity you're after, muffins would be a bad choice." He'd want something dense, not something light and fluffy, and goddammit Sunshine stop thinking about it. If she's going to spend extra time in the kitchen inventing recipes, they're going to be recipes that would appeal to everyone, not just him.

[erratic_hematic]

Spike smiles as she starts working on the problem aloud, pleased that she seems to be thinking about it even if he doesn't plan on paying her. Maybe she will be coming over with a basket of cookies after all.

He wouldn't be quite as thrilled if he knew how often she thinks of him as a vampire-lite, but the less he knows about that the better.

The smile shifts into a smirk and he sets the mug aside so that he can cross his arms over his chest. "So, not muffins." He feels like pressing his luck here, so he asks, "What are you going to bring me?"

[rae_of_sun]

Keep pushing your luck, Spike, and you'll probably get to hear the term more often. She lets out a quiet huff at his question, because she already knows the answer (which is why considering the prospect, even academically, is a waste of time).

"Nothing. I'm not running some kind of dessert-based charity. You have to earn it."

That's not strictly true. If she likes someone enough, she's happy to feed them up with free goodies. Sometimes she gets something in return, too; it had been a godsend when Yolande lowered her rent, though that hadn't been what Sunshine was angling for when she started bringing her landlady bakery bags every day. Feeding people is just what she does.

But she doesn't like Spike enough, and why should she? He took her to the base, and she's grateful for that, and he gave her a glass of ice water, but he hasn't exactly been going out of his way to endear himself to her.

[erratic_hematic]

"I did save you from homelessness, you know. You might be a little thankful." Seriously, he paid bus fare and everything. A less upstanding and moral person might have left her to fend for herself among the no doubt rabid squirrels of central park. He's like a hero here.

"You expecting more than that?" The smirk is back in full force as he pushes himself away from the counter to take a step towards her. "What kind of services did you have in mind?" He can think of a few things, but she'll have to lose her clothes for most of them.

[rae_of_sun]

Yeeeek. Relative 'lite'-ness aside, Sunshine is not okay with a vampire approaching her with a predatory look in his eyes (or, okay, it's more like a 'lascivious' look, but that's near enough to 'predatory' as far as her baser instincts are concerned). Her wards aren't happy about it, either, and she can feel the knife start to edge past body heat warm while the necklace puts out a faint glow. They're not in full-blown panic mode, though, and she can almost imagine a sense of proprietary inquiry coming from them, like a bouncer in an Old Town club: hey, is this guy bothering you?

Yes. Yes, he very much is.

The rabbit doesn't seem to appreciate Spike's approach, either. Maybe its senses are more finely tuned to vampire lites than hers, or maybe it's just picking up on her discomfort - either way, it kicks out suddenly, scraping its claws down her forearm and giving her an excuse to take a healthy step back. "Spartan," she mutters, setting the water on the nearest level surface so she has two hands free to wrangle the animal.

[erratic_hematic]

Well, that kind of ruins the mood. Not that the look on her face when he'd stepped forward had been any better. He watches the rabbit trying to squirm away with a frown. Maybe he'll put off the propositioning for the moment.

"Oh for- Just set it down." He nearly grabs for the rabbit, but at the last minute stops himself. Grabbing the thing she's been cradling protectively for the last five minutes probably isn't the best idea. "I'm not going to descend like a hawk the second you let it out of your sight."

[rae_of_sun]

And what a mood it was.

Sunshine's concern is less that Spike will pounce on the animal and more that if she does set it down, it'll end up bolting to some obnoxiously hard-to-reach hiding place and she'll have to go crawling after it. She already wrangled the thing once; she doesn't want to have to do it again with the additional challenge of the rabbit freaking out.

Bad enough that it's freaking out now. She holds the animal away from her body so it won't score anymore scratches and starts to head for the door - at least if it's going to bolt somewhere, it can bolt down the hallway where there's a shortage of hiding places - and then she gets a better look at the arm it's already scuffed. It's not a severe wound, just three pink lines running down her arm... no, it's more than that. Oh, gods. She's bleeding, and maybe it's not much, but to her whacked-out vampire eyes, the few drops stand out as if they're glowing in the shadows of Spike's apartment. She can practically see the individual red blood cells oozing out of her arm.

Has he noticed yet? Doesn't matter. She is getting out now.

"That's my cue," she says, hoping he'll just assume she's talking about the rabbit's tantrum and not the fact that she's leaking platelets. Never mind that her voice has jumped an octave. Pressing her lips together, she heads for the door at as brisk a pace as she can without it looking like she's bolting for cover.

[erratic_hematic]

Was there a cue? Because he totally missed it. He can definitely smell the blood from the scratch. It drew his attention, but it's hardly as if she'd cut open an artery and stuck it under his nose. It's a more appealing smell than what he's getting from the mug still sitting on the counter, but it's hardly a dinner bell.

More than the blood, her sudden panicked retreat says prey to an older, less welcome part of his mind, but he ignores that thought in favor of wondering what the hell had gone wrong so quickly. It's easy to tie his reasoning back to the conclusion that it was because of his hitting on her. He takes a couple steps after her, holding up his hands in a gesture of harmlessness. "Don't you need something to carry all those rabbits? I've got a box...it'll be a tight fit, but you're not taking them far, right?"

He rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh as she doesn't stop making a beeline for the door. "Stop. You were ogling me. I got the wrong idea. I'm sorry." Suddenly, a book materializes and hits him on the head. He catches it and stares horrified at the title of The Complete Guide for Hunting for a moment before walking to chuck it into the trash. He doesn't like any of what that's suggesting.

[rae_of_sun]

Don't turn around, Sunshine. Don't look into its eyes. That's how they get you. Sure, he doesn't sound like he's trying to put her under the dark - he doesn't really sound anything but baffled (or… disappointed? Yeah, right.) - but she is not taking any chances here. Odin only knows what the hell her blood would do for him, and -- wait, 'ogling'?!

Sunshine quickly dumps the rabbit into the hallway and then pivots on her heel, anger overriding her survival instinct. She was not ogling. She... okay, she looked, because it wasn't a bad view it was sort of hard to avoid, particularly when your go-to behavior around vampires - any vampires, even lite ones - is avoiding eye contact. But looking is not the same thing as a goddamn invitation. Besides, she knows from bruise-inducing personal experience not to... invite… that… from a vampire. Any vampire. But especially an obnoxious asshole lite version.

Any tirade she would have unleashed is cut off by the sight of Spike staring in pretty obvious horror at the book he's suddenly holding, and Sunshine blinks, thrown. It is... substantially thicker than a TV Guide, but she can't see the cover. Does she even want to know? She decides she doesn't.

At a loss, she watches him deposit the book into the trash. Her hand is clamped over the bleeding scratches, but Spike… honestly doesn't seem all that interested. In the blood, anyway. It should be a relief, but there's nothing all that reassuring about the realization that she has no kali goddamn idea what to expect from vampire lites. Enemy vampires, she gets. Reluctant allies, she also gets. This, however, is well outside her wheelhouse.

"… A box would be nice," she finally says.

[erratic_hematic]

He has no idea what's going through her mind, but at least she seems to have calmed down a little. "Great. I'll go get it." He's a little distracted by the hunting book's appearance. It's brought back the question of just what makes the books appear. If it's just the rift poking fun at him, that might be a reasonable explanation. It's a bit more worrying if it's him and only him that prompts the selection.

By the time he looks back at her, his gaze drops to where she has a hand clamped over her arm, and he starts wondering if she's more hurt than she's letting on. Why else would she clamp her hand over it like that? "There's- the place came with a first aid kit. It's in the bathroom under the sink, if you need anything."

He disappears into his bedroom to retrieve the cardboard box from the bottom of his closet, dumps out the few items he'd been holding in it (recently procured weapons, mostly) and walks back into the main room, holding it aloft. "It's not much, but it should do."

[rae_of_sun]

Sunshine glances down at her arm, suddenly self-conscious about the way she's hiding the scratches. She lifts her arm and carefully pulls her hand away - it sticks a little where the blood has already begun to clot - but there's still not that much blood, all told. It'll need to be washed, considering the source, but it's nothing that can't wait until she gets back to her own apartment. "No, it's - it's fine."

When Spike returns with the box, Sunshine fixes him with a puzzled frown. She knows she should just let it drop - don't look a gift horse, etc. - but she can't help herself. "You don't…" she gestures to the scrapes, "this doesn't… bother you?" Not that 'bother' is necessarily the right term, but she doesn't want to make it sound like she expects him to go all single-minded at the sight of blood. Even though she kind of does.

[erratic_hematic]

As he walks back over to her to hand her the box, he takes a closer look at the scratches. It seems she's alright, after all.

Then she asks if the scratches bother him, and it clicks for him what she'd really been worrying about. He almost laughs. There have been times in his life when that might have been enough to make him act, but those are a lifetime and a soul away. It definitely smells good, sweet even, but him wanting to lick her arm is probably information she doesn't need to know at the moment.

Really, he's a bit offended that of all possible things, she'd thought that he'd go into some sort of frenzy at the sight of a few drops of blood. Had she thought he was lying the last time they met? "I thought I was clear on the 'no humans' thing last time. If that," he says the word like it's the most insignificant amount of blood he's ever seen, waving his spare hand in her direction, "If that made me go off I'd've torn out half of New York's throats by now. It wouldn't happen if you'd lost a pint of blood and it's not happening now, Sunshine." He frowns and holds the box out to her until it connects with her body. "Your box."

[rae_of_sun]

She feels a brief and entirely irrational rush of indignation. Indignation because if he knew what her blood was worth he wouldn't wave it off so casually, and irrational because why in the hell would she want him to appreciate what he's missing if it meant he might decide he didn't care to miss it after all? Gods, Sunshine, get it together.

Her arms close around the box more or less automatically when he pushes it at her, though she's still frowning at him. "You're nothing like the vampires back home," she says, and she's not entirely sure whether she means it as a compliment or a disparagement. Maybe it's just an explanation. She takes a step back, clearing the doorway, and hefts the box. "Thanks."

[erratic_hematic]

Likewise, he's not sure whether to take her statement as a compliment or an insult. The difference between himself and the vampires in her world might explain why she'd thought he might react poorly to her scratch, but he'd already told her that he doesn't drink human blood anymore, so that doesn't completely explain her reaction. Her assumption had felt like a lack of faith, but then again, what reason does she have yet to trust him? If that book is anything to go by, maybe she was right to be frightened.

"Yeah," he answers, still vaguely confused by the entire interaction. "Good luck with your rescue operation." He closes the door when she turns to go. All in all, that had gone pretty badly and he's not sure that he has much hope for future interactions going any smoother.

As he walks back through the apartment, he flips off the TV (still showing cartoons), walks into his bedroom, and flops onto the bed. Maybe now he can get back to sleep.