The Second Bunny: A Disintigration.

[imbodytemp]

[Action - 3rd Day - Around Mayfield]

The third day has been less then kind to Mesousa. At some point both his ears have fallen off. His once nice white fur is mostly gone, with what little of it that is left having turned a sickly and inconsistent shade of brown. The skin that has been revealed is tanned and scaly.  

Mesousa is wandering around Mayfield, hobbling wherever he can go and drinking whatever pools of liquid he can find to sooth his dry throat. If he manages to limp by you he will turn and weakly say "I'm sorry about this" before moving on to wherever.

Comments

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

I doubt this is actually your fault. And I wouldn't drink the liquid, if I were you -- it's probably just as polluted as the air.

[It's not as though Mesousa dropped the bomb, after all. And he's lucky in that he's run into a man who has already died -- really died, not fake Mayfield death -- and so has none of the fear and anger associated with death.

He's mostly just taking bets with himself on whether the radiation will kill him before he bleeds out through his deteriorating stitching. His left hand has already fallen completely off, and his right arm is coming away at the shoulder. It's only a matter of time before the stitching over his chest comes undone, and he's pretty sure humans can't do much with their organs on the outside. Science has taught him that much.]

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

Sometimes the water doesn't taste good, but I don't think I have that much longer so it feels nice on my throat. I feel bad that this happened right after I showed up, and that somehow I have survived longer than others. I'm a bunny and we are usually very fragile creatures. Do you want some water? I know what it's like to not be very effective with my arms.

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

You could not control when you were pulled into this reality any better than the rest of us. Mayfield likes to think it has a sense of ironic humor, and it delights in putting us in the situations most likely to emotionally destroy us. Thus your continued survival.

[He may be slowly coming apart, quite literally, but at least this is proving all his theories. SCIENCE MARCHES ON!]

And... yes. I suppose I might as well. As you say, neither of us has that much longer.

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

[Mesousa sighs as heavily as a little bunny is able to.]

It just seems like things like this happen to me a lot.

[As he is talking he picks up the remains of one of his ears. It is dried and curved in. Mesousa dips it in the water and brings it over to Klaus.]

I know that it can't hold much but I can't really carry water in my paws.

Catching up on Thanksgiving event posts; hope you don't mind a backtag!

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat's currently slumped against what remains of a brick wall. Even though he's covered head to toe in armored plating, his posture and body language betray the fact that he's suffering just as much as everyone else in the town.]

[So it is that he isn't aware of Mesousa's approach like he normally would be, not until the rabbit speaks up. Gat looks up from the ground, focusing on Mesousa, as if studying the state of his body.]

You're sorry for what now?

[Gat's echoing, mechanical voice sounds a bit tired.]

Re: Catching up on Thanksgiving event posts; hope you don't mind a backtag!

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

[Mesousa looks at Gat sadly.]

For bringing this tragedy on this town.

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat shakes his head. That's an odd sentiment to hear.]

What's got you thinkin' you're th' one who caused this?

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

I've never had the best luck and I've only been here a week. Sometimes it just seems like tragedy follows me. Rabbits are supposed to be lucky, but I guess that doesn't work if my feet are still attached.

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat chuckles. It's a dry, humorless chuckle, and it almost sounds like coughing.]

Me an' my coworker got brought into this here town when th' resident milkman was forcin' folks to drink his poisoned milk.

[A beat.]

Don't go blamin' yourself over what th' town's doin'. They've made a thing of tormentin' us every month.

[Slowly looking up toward the horizon.]

This's just th' "flavor of th' month."

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

Poisoned milk?

[Mesousa sits down for a little bit, as standing is starting to make him tired.]

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat nods in confirmation. It's a little sluggish.]

That's right. That man is off his rocker. An' somehow he's able to rig them milk bottles with all kindsa tricks—it ain't just poison he used. Razors an' spiders, too.

Couldn't get 'em out, either. You can try pourin' most of th' milk out, but th' very first sip from th' bottle you take, you'll get razor blades in your mouth.

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

That's terrible! I had a friend who used to try to poison everyone, but that doesn't seem nearly as bad in comparison.

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat scoffs—though it almost sounds like a cough.]

Some friend that fella is.

[A beat.]

That's why I'm sayin' you shouldn't blame yourself for this, though. Th' town's run by a sorry bunch of scumbags who like makin' us all miserable. It ain't got nothin' to do with you.

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

Oh. Everyone here seemed so nice too. I guess I'll never meet the people who run the town though, since there isn't much life left in a little bunny like me.

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat sounds sympathetic—poor little guy looks really bad off.]

Assumin' this ain't really th' end ... you'll prolly come back to life when they're done tormentin' us.

Th' town revives folks after it kills 'em—not that it makes what they're doin' to us any better.

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

S...so this won't be the end even if we die here?

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

[Gat shakes his head, a little slowly.]

Prolly not. These folks like torturin' us, after all. I don't think they're gonna let it end with this.

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

I guess that's not that bad then, though I dunno if I wanna die over and over.

Sorry for the delay, again! Release 88 threw a wrench my way. @_@

[nanocerancowboy.livejournal.com]

Yeah, that ain't—much of a silver linin', heh.

[Gat sighs a little, looking up at the sky.]

I reckon there ain't no way we coulda prepared for this.

Re: Sorry for the delay, again! Release 88 threw a wrench my way. @_@

[39degreesc.livejournal.com]

Probably not. I'm not even sure what's going on.