I am Not the Easter Bunny

Mius found pages. Confusing tid-bits and pieces of information, but the most recent ones all seem to have a reoccurring location. In hopes of answers (or any sort of progress), he miraculously finds himself there.

He stares up at the doors of the Silver Dragon Tavern, page in hand. “Hm!”

The hare smiles, and carefully presses against the door. He feels and notices the wood, the dark colours contrasting silver and green. Hears the creak of metal hinges, and—

Mius is immediately assaulted by a cacophony of noises, colour, faces and activity. He blanches, and stands by the door as he watches the overwhelming chaos within.

"Hey it’s the Easter bunny!"

"Hey come on! We should get you a round!"

Mius only manages a nervous laugh, and brings up a hand to try and motion a refusal, “I, I do not have plans to be round presently thank you but—”

Oh come on, join the party! Free drinks!”

"I-I’m not the Easter bunny, I er, I’m—"

Bring any eggs? Candy?”

"Why would I—"

HEY GUYS CHECK OUT THE— wait where’d he go?”

It was a split-second of inattention from the gathered crowd, but it’s all the time he needed.

Mius is now clinging and clawing to the rafters above, and trying desperately to haul up the rest of his lower body before anyone else notices.

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[[I WANT TO DO AN RP who wants to do an RP]]

[[Sakura’s open to do whatever in wherever place, Koishe is active and milling about, Kichuna is dodging people in the city but not necessarily dodging RP, and Mius is freshly alive again and on a grand quest of rediscovery.]]

[[Who wants to do a thing at a person.]]

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Utah Is Ending Homelessness By Giving People Homes

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lady-fett:

please enjoy this video of an action packed, high speed fight between two cats.

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Happy Easter!

sweetdreamr:

image

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Marvel Sequels: No One Ever Gets a Haircut

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Koishe comes in with a knock against the wall, "Bran, do you--" And he stares at the cat. "... uh." A pause. "... Now the question is, are you a stray, an escaped SCP waiting to kill me, or Bran." His eyes squint in wonder. "And the follow up question, would petting you kill me, hmm..."
asked by ectopicfantast

ditenean:

ditenean:

It bloody well is me, the cat wants to say, but of course it only comes out in a kind of grumbly meow. A stray would have been more cautious - the orange tabby that was formerly a young man, on the other hand, sit at Koishe’s feet, staring up at him in indignant insistence as he attempts to sit up on his haunches.  

Out of customary habit, Bran extends his paw as if in an attempt to shake the massive hand that is being held out to him. He realises his mistake when his padded toes come to rest on one of Koishe’s fingers, then spends several seconds confused as to what his coworker was expecting him to do.

Oh, wait - people give their hands to animals to smell. Well, bollocks to that, he wasn’t sniffing anyone’s hand. Instead, he settled back down on to all fours and pushed himself up against the other man’s legs. ……that was odd, actually. Instinct, maybe?

It’s me, Koishe. Don’t you speak cat? I’ve heard you mimicking animal calls before. Of course, mimicking wasn’t the same as actually speaking it like a language. His attempts at speech came out in chattering meows and chirps, and after a moment he huffed out a frustrated sigh and sat back down.

Koishe’s mention of ‘fixing this’ had him tilting his head, though. He stared up at the large man hopefully. 

"Hm? — Well you are an odd one." Koishe notes with amusement, "Already claiming me?"

He casts one last glance around the office, then back out to the facility itself. “Well … I should not leave you unsupervised, in case someone of the testing-facility decides they need new, er, subjects… Or subjects to feed to subjects.” Koishe mutters under his breath, “One never knows here…”

"I better keep you safe, yes." And he reaches out to pick up the cat that is his co-worker.

In one graceful sweep, he’s got BranCat cradled in one arm, up against his chest. Well then, it’s likely some people would fight to get into that position… “Honestly though, I really should have a word with whoever is responsible with bringing you here.”

"…Or avoid word entirely, it would be unfortunate if they did not find us…" Koishe contemplates, absently already scritching behind Bran’s ear. "It would mean I would have to keep you over-night, hmm."

"Terrible, terrible." He says, unconvincingly. 

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Coincidental Timing

timeywimeyten:

       ”Got it! Makes sense.” He nods, before they are both teleported.

       ”My favourite’s the original Earth. ‘s nice. Decent enough. But, the people… Oh, blimey, they’re worth it. Worth saving. I’m honoured to watch over them.”

        “Fried banana ice-cream?” Ten’s eyes light up, and a grin spreads across his face. “No, I haven’t! Count me in!”

"Is it? Huh. You intend to always watch over ‘em forever? Or is there a point where you think you’ll be able to back off, and let the kids manage themselves, huh?" There’s a soft tone of amusement, though the curiosity is perhaps a bit deeper than casual conversation.

Given their histories, it’s entirely likely she’s checking to see her own future plans, here. “Yo, Kichuna!” Sakura calls out to the kitchen as they pass. “Do that thai-thing with the ice-cream and the fried bananas, please? Two, got a friend here.”

"Yeh yeh." Comes a raspy, monotone female voice from the kitchen. Grumpy, but Sakura seems content enough.

She settles on a chair by the tavern bar. “It’s so good though. Deep fried banana, put it on ice-cream, home-made if you can get it, and then it all just mixes up as you eat it… So good. So good.

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Moments Between - Tulpa

Easter; a religious holiday steeped in old traditions, morphed from one culture to the next. Fertility gods and symbols, renewal of the earth… And plenty of symbolic rabbits.

The fact it has morphed into obsessions with candy hardly matters; for the rabbit symbolism, mutated or not, still remains.

Mius breathes.

There is magic in numbers, in cycles, in routine an rhythm. Calendars are flawed however, and time is constantly in flux. There is, however, one concrete point of reference. Days where everyone celebrates the same thing, all focus on the same ideas, concepts, or come aware of it in their minds. It is a gathering of energy, empowering, and raising the flow of magic like a well-earned desert rain.

Mius exhales, feeling the texture of air and the drops of cold morning-dew. He feels grass press against the back of his cheek and neck, the tree roots by his head. He smells the mossy dirt and hears the distant sound of forest-birds. He’s gradually aware that he’s laying on his back.

There are days when the flow of magic become almost overwhelming; while he doesn’t recall this himself, last year’s Easter had him a bit incapable of even pretending to be mortal. Full Fae and enthusiastic, it was a day of celebration. He doesn’t recall.

But, today, there is no overwhelming magic. Instead, it’s enough. Enough for ghostly limbs to come alive in a proper bodily host, enough for flesh to function, blood to flow, skin and clothes to cover him. Enough to heal any past wounds (save the ones saved intentionally broken), and enough to offer a good, proper, system reboot.

Mius blinks his gold eyes open, and he takes this moment to admire the treetops from the forest floor.

He breathes, and everything is so bold, so loud, so very nearly overwhelming… But not quite, no.

It’s enough, and he smiles, content to be alive.

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Koishe comes in with a knock against the wall, "Bran, do you--" And he stares at the cat. "... uh." A pause. "... Now the question is, are you a stray, an escaped SCP waiting to kill me, or Bran." His eyes squint in wonder. "And the follow up question, would petting you kill me, hmm..."
asked by ectopicfantast

ditenean:

It bloody well is me, the cat wants to say, but of course it only comes out in a kind of grumbly meow. A stray would have been more cautious - the orange tabby that was formerly a young man, on the other hand, sit at Koishe’s feet, staring up at him in indignant insistence as he attempts to sit up on his haunches.  

Koishe stares down, confused, but the moment the cat manages to sit on its haunches, well…


"…aaaaaaa." And there goes the 6’4" scar-faced man. He crouches down to the cat, and offers his hand out to it. "Well, I imagine if there was any way for me to die…" He notes with morbid amusement. "How did you even get here?"

He casts a worried glance over his shoulder. “Really though, a cat unsupervised…”

"I should fix this." He nods, determined. "Yes."

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Coincidental Timing

timeywimeyten:

       ”—Oh, normal isn’t bad. It’s delicious, in this case.” Ten follows her to the portal, with a bit of a bound in his step. “Well, the thing is, a planet can be an ‘original’ based on naming. For example, the Earth in the Milky Way galaxy is the first, based on naming. The others are named based on their resemblance to Earth. New Earth, for example, has a lot of the same things, except it’s got apple grass instead of regular grass. As in, the grass literally smells like apples!” He grins.

"Ohhh…!" Sakura tosses her head back in understanding. "Like child-Earths! I was thinking like, from universe to universe. It’s weird to call something an ‘original’ when another like it resurfaced somewhere else, without ever knowing about the “first” one, you know?”

She closes the Planeswatch; and with it, so does the portal. They’re once again in the hallway past the bar, kitchen, and nearer to the storage room. “I must’ve visited at least seven different Earths by now. Some with magic, some without, some with hardly any life, some that look like humans never even got to reach the industrial era. Honestly I really liked that one; lots of plants. Many shiny things. Fantastic stonework art.”

She leads the way back to the main tavern. By now, the building is in full swing of activity and visitors. “Man, though, have you ever had fried banana ice-cream? Thing’s amaaaazing.

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Introductions

spectacledpauling:

ectopicfantast:

"Just a rough guess." She grins. "I’m used to working with anyone who doesn’t have an office job, and you don’t really got the profile for it. You’re too clean and well-kept.” She snickers in her throat. “Most folks I deal with are on their feet all day, or look like they could take anyone in a fight…”

"Is it at least enjoyable?" Sakura questions with a flick of pointed ears. "I can’t ever imagine being able to sit that long and handle that much paper. I’ve mostly been running a tavern, in between out-of-town visits."

"Diane, pretty name, that." She muses as she opens the door to the diner, and steps aside to let Diane in first.

image

"Well, I suppose that makes sense." Diana replied, shrugging to herself. Too clean and well-kept, something one who wanted to keep a professional image had to be often. Or well, to Diana herself that’s how she thought of it.

"Plus I don’t exactly sit around all the time with paper. Sometimes I have to deliver things and perform certain tasks once in a while," she added while tapping her cheek with a finger. Although that mostly was her duties while the Administrator was busy with other things being the announcer and all.

As Sakura let her first into the diner, the woman clad in purple spared her a word of thanks before looking around the place. Not too plain or too extravagant. 

"Do you come to this place often?" She questioned, turning her head slightly to face her companion. 

"Here? I’ve been here once or twice before. Not bad’ve a place. You know, I’ve never actually been to chain restaurants before I moved to the big city." Sakura leads on, nodding to the waitress. They’re lead to a booth, and Sakura settles in with ease. "It was mostly just, a single restaurant in a small village, owned and run by the same folks that are th’customers, y’know?" She slides over a menu to Diane. "Kind’ve miss the community aspect, but getting to try new foods is a good upside to moving."

"What about you, always been in the city?"

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Frozen Sweets

peregrinerocks:

ectopicfantast:

"Yeah? I’m sure you can catch Daine at some point, she passes through the tavern every now and then. Hang out often enough, and you could toss her a word. She likes hello’s."

Sakura’s brow quirks. “Busking? … He actually sang out there? Christ, I missed that? Hah, dude didn’t mention a damn thing.” Sakura grins. “Huh.”

"Maybe he does better with people, I dunno. Last I checked with him, he just, freezes up completely. People have to near literally shove him onto the stage for him to do anything. Crippling social anxiety or summat, I tell you." She drinks from her mug. "Mm, keeps trying to dodge it."

"Dude can’t even make his own decisions, I swear." Sakura sighs. "It’s gonna catch up to him at some point."

She nods to the advice on Daine. It’s really a matter of time, in that case. She doesn’t have time, not if the babysitter doesn’t work out. “I’m not sure if ‘e was showing off or helpin’ but it was beautiful what he did.” Leaning her head back against the wall, looking up the ceiling she mulls over Sakura’s thoughts. “He’s got plenty of years t’run with. He’ll figure it out, yeah?”

"Kichuna works your kitchen, it looks like? Makes sense, cooking is all chemistry yeah?" She looks away, "How’s Mius doin’?"

"Heh, you say that, but from what I’ve seen, near-immortals are the worst procrastinators ever. They go ‘Oh I’ll do it next week’ and then suddenly it’s been fifty years later.” Sakura smirks into her mug.

"Mm? Yeah, she does. Kind’ve under-the-table honestly, or part time, I’m not sure what the papers say. But she does cooking here, claims it’s zen or fun. I really ain’t complaining. She mostly works at her infirmary or at Tiran’s fighting club thing, but she comes here now and then just cause. You should catch her in her desserty moods."

She frowns, and shifts her jaw in thought. “Mius … I hadn’t seen him in months, actually. Not sure where or how he is. I assume okay; I mean, he’s got Ink, and the world is still turning so he must be doing well too. That’s my logic, anyway.”

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sunshineandsemtex:

Two flipped switches later and it’s guaranteed that they shan’t be interrupted, the computer at the desk is put to sleep, and Jim is picking his way around the counter in order to follow Sakura to the back of the shop. Had she arrived but hours earlier, the place would have been nearly a massacre, papers all about the place and everything.

Thankfully, since then he’s completed the planning for that particular heist, and there’s been time for the shop to (mysteriously) become clean again. The door to the back eases shut with a perfectly secure click behind them both, and Jim braces a forearm on the side of one of the stabler armchairs, leaning slightly on it. Sitting is hardly something he feels like doing. 

Sakura begins speaking, and Jim listens intently. Typically, he wouldn’t even be handling something this low level himself, preferring to delegate such things to people whose time is of lesser importance, but he had given Sakura his personal number (or one of them, at least) after all, and it would hardly do to shunt her back down the rungs after having let her speak to him already. That sort of thing would be an unbearable rudeness.

New Versaille isn’t a name he’s heard before, but there are enough planes and planets out there that this is hardly surprising. Instead of pulling out his mobile to take down the name, he simply banishes a couple of the periphery thought lines and devotes the newly-freed brain power to locking her words down into memory. 

(Time was, he had every conversation committed to memory, but that had proven to be horrifically impractical, even if it was a good exercise, so—)

He waits a moment after she’s fallen into silence, just out of habit, and then he speaks. “It sounds rather viable indeed. Would you be looking to work as a subset, or on an independent contract? Either is negotiable, however the former tends to do better than the latter, and the distinction, well.” He pauses, smiles. “It’s truly not that vital.”

Sakura chews her lip in thought on that. She gives a few slow nods, feigning deep thought.

In truth, there’s a rapid exchange of telepathy to Daine, requesting the definition of either words. She had attempted asking Koishe for the definition of subset and independent contract but only got a vague mental noise of confusion instead.

Daine offered a few better, more concrete answers, but they didn’t answer the bigger picture. Which way will have the lower risk of me losing my kneecaps if it all goes to shit?

"Working in a subset may be for the best. I’ll admit upfront, I’m in it less for the potential cash return, and more for the interesting faces it’ll bring up. There’s better value in people and motives than temporary objects, you get me? Exchanging cash is really just a front fer something bigger behind it all."

"Information and influence, yeah." She shifts to sit up a touch better, only to lean her side back against the table in interest. "So with that in mind, a subset might be better, I think. I’ll need all the little boosts I can get, until the show gets properly on the road."

"So how would we go about setting this up?"

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Coincidental Timing

timeywimeyten:

ectopicfantast:

"Ayep, I don’t trust myself with ladders in this weather and my state right now." Sakura pulls herself up, and clicks open the Planeswatch. She adjusts one of the dials, and clicks the topmost button.

The familiar blue portal forms, and she offers a hand out to the Doctor to help him up to his feet. “So hey, out of curiosity; favourite food and drink?”

"If you happen to know anything weird too, or not native to this Earth and time, do let me know. I’m always seeing what we could add on the menu to our unusual visitors.” She grins.

       ”Bananas, and tea,” He replies, taking her hand and pulling himself up.

        “—Wait, hold on—which Earth’re you referrin’ to?” Ten asks, a tad confused. “There’s a bunch of ‘em. Well, I mean—there’s a bunch that took on the Earth’s name, but if you’re referring to the original planet of Earth, then, yes, I shall.”

"Bananas and tea?" Sakura quirks an eyebrow. "Huh. Unusual choice in th’fact that it seems remarkably normal. I haven’t had any good bananas since I left my island back home."

"Tea though, you should see my dragon’s work-place, he helps one of th’best tea makers in this town." She stands on the other side of the portal, awaiting Ten’s follow. "Hm?" She blinks at the question.

"… That, uh, is a good point. I honestly have no idea which one is even the original or not. I mean— there’s an original?" That raises an eyebrow. "How can a planet be an original? Did the others just find out and make copies of the planet?”

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