Sunday, November 23, 2014

[Bunny Silliness] One Viking, Two Rabbits - Part Two.

(Low chance of vikings in this picture.)

"How is there a line?" Kim muttered, "We got here at opening."

"Speedy might have been able to beat everyone, but it was a long hop!" Mick protested.

Speedy stood up on his hind feet and looked around. "I might have beaten most, but the kids ran up and held spots for their parents."

"Does that make me your parent?" Kim asked.

Both rabbits made scoffing noises. The hard done by viking just sighed.

"I'm kind of surprised everyone's not lined up for Test Track or Spaceship Earth." Mick grumbled.

Kim looked at the lop suspiciously, "You weren't planning on stealing the longboat were you?"

"NO!" Was the entirely too quick answer. "Well, not really." He admitted. "They'd miss it pretty quick."

Kim closed his eyes and counted to twenty. He shouldn't be surprised that the furballs had considered stealing a long boat from Disney World, he really shouldn't be. He told himself this twice.

A nose nudged his ankle, "C'mon, move up slow poke."

"Do you know what respect is?" Kim asked.

"Yes, its the thing rabbits don't give humans. You're too tall and too furless."

Kim followed the hopping duo. "We have the thumbs."

"Feh."

Speedy did a mini-binky. "Don't listen to him. We like humans just fine. Well, most humans." Speedy stopped in mid-step and suddenly ducked behind Kim's legs.

"What?" Kim said, almost tripping over the British bunny.

"Kid almost saw me. Never mind, all good now." Speedy reassured the human.

Kim sighed. He could be home, in a nice warm bed and.. He looked at Mr Mick who had somehow pulled an iPad out of somewhere and was fiddling with it. "Where do you keep that?!"

"Bunspace." Mick replied absently. Kim rolled his eyes and just kept moving with the crowd.

"Okay!" Mick announced, "I've figured it out, you need to let two people in front of you."

"I need to do what now?" Kim asked, suddenly wondering if everyone thought he was crazy for talking to thin air or if the magic of bunnyland was making it all seem normal.

"Let two people in front of you. You want the front left seat, it's the best. Front row also makes it easier for us to hide but still see stuff."

Kim suspected that Mr Mick was full of something brown and smelly but smiled at the couple behind him and offered to let them in front of him. They were a bit confused but obliged and went in front.

"Happy?" He asked Mick.

"Absolutely!" Mick said with a butt shake of glee.

"I'm being set up, I know I'm being setup." Kim muttered to himself.

He kept his mouth shut as they got to the personnel running the tour. He didn't really want to get dragged into conversation with a bunch of Norwegians.  He obediently stood behind the line until a rather short longboat pulled up. "Couldn't carry loot in this." He muttered. Mick nipped his ankle as they easily hopped past him and onto the boat.

As they waited for the other tourists to get settled Kim turned to Speedy who was sitting on the seat beside him. "What about cats?" he asked.

"What about cats?" Speedy asked, "I have some good friends who happen to be cats."

"Foo' cats." Mick grumbled from the other side of Speedy.

"Do they have a bunspace type deal?" Kim asked.

"Ask a cat!" Mick grunted.

Speedy gave a happy ear bob. "I think so. We don't really talk about that stuff. They're either very sneaky and use their humans' computers or they have their own system though. Lots of cats have blogs."

"Aren't those humans writing blogs for them?" Kim asked, eyeing Speedy. He again had the feeling he was being snookered.

Speedy giggled, "No, no, it's feline composition!"

Kim shook his head as the boat started moving.

The story of the ride was a bit cobbled together from Kim's point of view. Certainly a bit disjointed when it went from medieval era straight into oil wells.

He should have been suspicious when Speedy and Mick hopped off the seat and dived under the people's legs on the right side of the ride. There was a down-slope of the water ride and a big splash. A splash that soaked whoever was sitting in the front left. Kim wiped his face of water and glared at the giggling bunnies. He KNEW he was being set up. Dang rabbits.

Speedy came out first, binkys in each step. "I'm sorry Mr Kim, but it was very funny."

"Uh huh." He replied drolly, shaking water off. He wasn't particularly bothered by the prank, but played along.  He flicked water at the mirth filled Mick.

The ride came to a gentle stop, letting them off into an area with various Norwegian trivia. Kim stood up and got off, the buns using their usual agility to avoid feet and puddles. Kim squelched when he walked. He sighed.

"It's warm and dry outside." Speedy said.

"Unless you want to sit and watch the movie." Mick said with a butt wiggle.

They came into a small area with a movie playing about Norway, much finer detail than the ride had shown. "Uh, I think I'll skip the twelve minutes of 'Thank God We're Not Sweden!' thanks."

The rabbits were right, it WAS warm and dry outside.

"It'll be better when they bring in all the Frozen stuff." Speedy said.

Mick and Kim exchanged a look, "Yeah, better, right." Kim pretended to agree.  There was a long pause. "Now what?"

The two bunnies bounced up and down like sugar filled kids. "Test Track!"


Saturday, November 22, 2014

[WoW Fanfiction] Lareasa, Goblin Warlock, Not at Your Service.



There was a knocking on the door.

Lare was busy, she couldn't be bothered to answer the door, so she just ignored it and carried on with where she left off in the conversation, "..But it should be perfectly feasible to charge pants with fel energy to act as a secondary shield!" she protested to Gartbug, her enslaved imp.

The imp spat; fortunately, without saliva in play. "Its stupid! Its a waste of magic!"

"Oh what do you know you ex-slipper?" Lareasa muttered and then snarled "WHAT?" at the door when the knocking had turned into a pounding. "Of for the sake of gears and dynamite.." she muttered as she stomped up the three steps to the door and yanked it open.

She glared up at an orc grunt. She could tell he was a lowly grunt purely by the fact his weapon was a club, his armour was cloth with leather bits patched on, and he looked like if an original thought showed up in his head it would die of shock if not loneliness. "WHAT?" she repeated.

"Survey!" he bellowed right back.

Lare wiped saliva off her face and wondered if it would be cruel and unusual punishment to let Gartbug to eat his face off. A mental sigh; probably, Gartbug would get indigestion and she'd have to listen to him bitch for a week. "And what're you surveying?"

"Are you Lareasha Fizzlesprocket?" he asked instead.

"Sure hope so, or someone's wearing the wrong underwear!" She answered cheerfully.

The grunt blinked at her and then looked down at the ratty piece of parchment in one of his meaty hands. "Are you satisfied with the job the warchief is doing?" he read.

"The who'sit what'sit now?" Lare asked with genuine confusion.

"The warchief!" The grunt repeated with irritation.

Lare blinked. For good measure she blinked again. "Who's he when he's not at home? Or I guess, in this case, when he's not at work?"

"Garrosh!" He growled. His muddy red eyes stared down at her clear blue, "Hellscream!" He added when the first name didn't seem to produce recognition. He waved his hands over his head in disgust. "The warchief!"

"Oh." Lare gave this some thought. "So what's a warchief DO?"

"He rules the Horde!" The grunt's frustration was growing. Probably the only thing saving him from trying to apply club to her noggin was her obvious, honest, obliviousness.

"Oh. And like.. does the warry decision stuff, then?" She asked with genuine curiousity.

"YES!" This was the orc's first stop of the day and was seeing why Perok had given him so much to take over the route.

"Huh." Lare said, rocking back on her heels, tapping a long thin sewing needle against her chin. "Well.. Are we at war?"

"For Fel's Sake!" The grunt swore, "YES! With the ALLIANCE! The humans who enslaved us? Who hunt us down and kill us by the thousands?"

"Oh." Lare nodded decisevely, "Then, if we're at war, and he's the warchief, I'd say he's doing a pretty darn good job." She smiled her most winningly. "Have a nice day!" she took a step back and slammed the door before the very stunned orc could summon a response.

The goblin bounced down the stairs. Seriously, what did she care who ran what a couple of valleys over? Her food showed up on time, her deliveries appeared when she paid for them, and there was plenty of places for her to investigate for old manuscripts and interesting ideas.

Gartbug was once again trying to break the chains that enslaved him to her rule. She rapped him on the head. "Stop that."

The imp swore at her profusely and with creativity.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Look, for whatever reason, I have the gift to control you felly, smelly, things.. And since YOU seem to like eating the brains of babies -- which by the way, is completely disgusting -- I think it's only fair I STOP you from doing that. I mean, elves smell bad and all, but their kids haven't done much wrong."

"Oh but if you only understood the.." he started to hiss and stopped when she thumped him again.

"Ew." Lare told him. "And if that wasn't enough, ew, ew, ew. I've heard it before, I don't want to hear it again. You gave me the hobbly cobblies for a week last time." She walked over to the cooler and fished out a worm to snack on, "Now, lets get back to much more important things.. fel energy and pants!"

Saturday, November 15, 2014

[Bunny Pirate Fiction] The Rum Rabbits epilogue.



It was a nice breeze that came up off the ocean to caress her as she rocked gently in the hammock. A fruity rum drink in one hand, a book in the other, it was pretty much Ren's idea of happy vacation land. Blonde hair had been ruthlessly dragged into a ponytail so she could read without it attacking her every twenty seconds. Even stretched out, there was room for bunnies to relax at her feet. There'd been a stern talking about not nibbling on the ropes of the hammock. Their answer had been to dump a bunch of hay on her blankets to lie in and nibble on. Considering rabbit inguinity at the best of times, Ren was willing to put up with this compromise, even if it did leave her picking bits of hay off herself for a week.

Her crew were also strewn about the small island, taking advantage of it being off-season for travel and shipping to take over the depot and tavern. The residents would be having to make a lot more rum before the season began, Ren was pretty sure between her two foot and four foot crew, they'd drink the place dry by the end of the week.. maybe ten days. She hadn't quite decided how long they were staying - there was something delightfully entertaining about watching drunk rabbits trying to hop across sand.

A shadow fell across her book and she looked up to see a very unhappy countenance on Captain Jack Sparrow's face. "YOU SHOT ME." He said instead of a perfectly polite greeting.

"You had it coming, mate." Ren said calmly, looking back down at her book, his shadow making it hard to read the cramped script.

"I bloody well did not!" Jack said, snatching her book. "YOU SHOT ME." He repeated. She managed to keep the novel out of his hands.

"Actually," Ren said, pulling herself into a sitting position, putting book down by her knee.. The rabbits grunted at the disruption of their naps. "You shot yourself with my gun."

"And ruined me best shirt!" He continued as if she hadn't spoken. The wind was making the beads of his hair clack together, giving an almost musical background to the conversation.

"You have a best shirt?" Ren asked, tilting her head to one side to study the swarthy pirate captain. "That would indicate you own more than one." She reached forward as if to move his vest to see if his shirt had a hole in it.

He jerked back, "None of that! You don't treat a man right after you get his clothes off." He sniffed and turned his head towards the sky as if he were some delicate maiden offended.

Ren rolled her eyes, more than used to Jack's dramatics. "What do you want?"

"Satisfaction." He replied with a nod.

Ren raised an eyebrow, "No brothel on the island, you're a bit out of luck, mate."

He leaned close to her, smelling of leather and sweat, mouth close to her own, "Am I?" he asked quietly.

"Er." Ren managed right before a small white blur launched between them.

"ARGH!" Captain Jack Sparrow spluttered as a rabbit landed on his shoulder to take his ear between two surprisingly sharp and strong teeth. Dark splotches on his fur, loppy ears, and fire burning in his eyes, the rabbit looked most unimpressed with the Captain of the Black Pearl's antics.

"Oh, you haven't met Don Pedro?" Ren asked with a bit too much pepper to her innocent tone. "He's a bit protective."

"I see." Captain Jack looked out of the corner of his eyes at the rabbit. "And how does one get a less protective mode?"

"You could try asking." Ren said with a smile.

"Right then." Jack cleared his throat, "How do you feel about hats?" He asked. He'd managed to find a new one since Ren had stolen the last one. Perhaps he now kept a store of them on his ship. Perhaps he chased after ships trading on behalf of haberdashers and just nabbed a share.

Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon, snorted.

"Rum?" Jack tried again.

Don Pedro almost seemed to consider this before shaking his head.

Jack's head followed the jerks on his ear. "Uh, promises to not try to woo your Captain unless she's wooing me?" Jack tried again.

Grunt said the rabbit.

"Alright then," Ren said, leaning sideways to put her drink down on the sand and then grabbing Don Pedro around the middle, "That's about the limit there." She hauled the protesting bunny back to the hammock, surprisingly, bits of ear didn't come with him. "While I appreciate the protection, I CAN take care of myself, savvy?"

The rabbit snorted again and didn't look convinced. He hopped off to present her with bunny butt, one loppy ear half-cocked to give her a one ear salute.

"Same to you, mate." Ren muttered. She turned back to Jack "Why're you here? How'd you find us?"

Jack grinned, rocking back on his heals to toe and back again. "Ah! We got the sword didn't we? Had to figure out how to get out of the maze, didn't we?" He fiddled with his mustache. "You have rum. Here we are."

Somehow Ren didn't think that was it at all, but she also thought she wasn't likely to get a straight answer out of the pirate any time soon. "What do you want?" She asked.

"Rum." He replied with a nod and a certain amount of satisfaction.

"That's it?" Ren asked doubtfully, but besides her, her crew, food and rum, the island didn't have a whole lot else to offer. It was one of the reasons she'd chosen it, she'd figured Jack would head straight for Tortuga.

He gave her a half-bow. "That's all for now, mate." He gave his best winning smile and with an outstretched foot, spun on the stop and marched his way towards the tavern.

Ren watched him go with half an eye before stretching back out on her hammock, going back to her book, a hand fished around and found her drink once more. "About what I thought," she muttered. Jack'd be back soon enough with his next harebrained scheme. If he weren't quite so yummy, she'd toss him in the bilge. She stopped to consider, she might just toss him in the bilge anyway. Till then, she'd enjoy sun, sand and rum.


Friday, October 31, 2014

[Bunny Stories] It be Hallowe'en, it be Hallowe'en! Find a bunny and feed them greens!



As a black bunny Umbra took her job as Hallowe'en rabbit very seriously. It was her job to gnaw the Hallowe'en pumpkin, it was her job to set up the candles (this year she didn't singe her whiskers,) it was her job to make sure everyone got spooky invitations and it was her job to tell the Hallowe'en stories. It hadn't been her job to make the food since the first year; everyone was quite grateful when Speedy generously took over the job on top of his own party. Everyone agreed, Umbra included!, that Speedy made the best snacks ever.

There was pure white Buttercup and light brown splotted over white fur Jensen, buff lop eared Mr Mick (although he insisted he was orange. Maybe it was a Hallowe'en thing) and dark helicoptered ear Harrington and the brown, star-nosed Hannah, and creamy Speedy with his brown smudged nose with his brown ears, of course. New comers tanned dwarf Thor and lopped eared, English spot, Don Pedro were cautiously drinking the pink ginger ale and wondering if the bubbles were supposed to go up their noses.

Umbra sat herself between two candles in the dark and shadowed room, the fan on across the room to cause them to flicker and dance. Ambiance was everything, after all. She'd drawn the line at the pumpkin spice incense that had caused her to sneeze half the night away last year. Some sacrifices even she wasn't ready to make!

"It was a dark and stormy night -- " she began.

"Isn't it always?" Mick whispered.

"IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT!" Umbra repeated, forcefully, just daring Mr Mick, snot of the north-east to interrupt her again. She'd nip his tail into next week if he did.

"Hmph." Mick may have added something about foo' does, but Umbra decided it was probably best to ignore him or he'd be on about a sore tail all night.

* * *


Buttercup and Jenson had been taking the closet portal to Speedy's Hallowe'en party when they got dumped out unexpectedly. It wasn't a nice warm closet, freshly organized and tidy in expectation of kitty and bunny visitors but a nasty cold ditch with slimy grass sludged at the bottom of it. It was drizzly and dark and storm clouds were gathering over the head.

"I told you to concentrate!" Buttercup snapped.

"I *was* concentrating! Something went wrong with the bunny tunnel! It just burped and here we are!" He looked around, "Where is here?"

"Lost is where we are, so here must be lost!" Buttercup told him, scrambling up the steep side of the bank. She ignored Jensen putting his nose against her butt to give her a shove up and over. He gave a leap and then scampered up behind her. She periscoped one way while he periscoped the other. It was muddy and miserable. The road had probably been fresh tarmac and useful, but now it was full of puddly potholes and was more cracked than smooth. The paint lines were faded to near non-existence. The bushes on the other side of the ditches were rustling as the wind picked up to a brisk pace. None of which was particularly pleasant when you fur was getting sodden.

"I don't even know what *country* we're in." grumbled Jensen.

Buttercup sighed, "Me neither. We could be *anywhere.* We could get lost in time or something!" The TARDIS traveled bunny tunnels didn't it? It could go anywhen. She didn't want to be stuck in some barbaric time where they ate bunnies! What horror that would be!

Jensen sniffed about, "I don't think so. I mean, it's a tar road. That's fairly new, right?"

Buttercup looked mollified, "Good thinking!"

Jensen offered a smile, "I think I see a steeple or something over that way. Maybe they have a closet?"

"*Anything* is better than sitting here in the muck!" Buttercup replied, turning in the direction he indicated and started hopping down the road. While it would be warmer and far less mucky to hop up the road, neither of them wanted to take a chance with cars. At least from here they could jump back into the ditch if absolutely necessary. Some humans had truly dreadful ideas of things that were funny.

The grey mess of rain slowly revealed an old mansion house. Well, that meant they were probably somewhere in either Old England or New England. Maybe if they were in Old England they could still get to Speedy's even if the closet system was broken. Of course, considering how wet and muddy they were, it might be better to just get home and make a mess of their own carpets instead of Speedy's nice mummy's.

The house was dark, with wooden siding that looked like it was slipping in places. The windows all had dark drapes covering them from the inside. The shutters weren't latched and bounced around banging in the rising wind. The rain was starting to turn from drizzle to fat rain drops. One plunked right between Buttercup's ears and she jumped a mile and growled in complaint.

The two hurried up the stairs to the large wooden double doors. There was an old fashioned knocker on each door, but no sign of a doorbell.

"Don't go in there!" a voice called from down bellow. The two bunny's stopped in mid-about-to-thump. They scurried to lean over the stone wall on either side of the wooden, creaky, steps. Looking up at them was a scary black cat with orange eyes that seemed to glow in the faint light. "The master's gone crazy, or something's eaten him, or something!" The head disappeared, "Come in here!" the cat said, muffled.

The bunnies hopped down the stairs and scurried around to find a hole in the stones that made up the side of the steps. They wiggled in to find dark plastic sheeting with some tatty towels plopped about randomly. The cat sat in the corner, a flash of lightning making his eyes seem to snap. Both rabbits started and then jumped up a mile when the thunder sounded so very close. They both landed with a thumps of displeasure at the sudden bright lights and loud noises.

"That's just Thor having a party." The cat said. His voice was growly and low. He shuddered, shaking off fur that looked brittle and spiky. "Don't mind him, they never last long."

The Thor THEY knew was a very nice little Dwarf who wouldn't go throwing lightning about just to scare people! He'd been a bit cannon happy, of course, but weren't all pirates whether they hopped on four feet or walked on two or less?

"So, uhm, what happened with the house?" Buttercup ventured, not sure what to say to the cat. Speedy had warned them that not all cats were nice and friends, that something of them were quite nutty and tried to *hurt* bunnies!

"I don't know!" He protested. "One day I'm napping and I was woken up by the doors. Master went to answer it and he came in with a wonderful box." Jensen and Buttercup exchanged a look, cats were very silly about boxes. "He unpacked something all that plasticy bubble stuff and gave me the box. I had a wonderful time playing in the box and eventually took my pre-supper nap. I woke up to the most dreadful howling coming from the attic and master was nowhere to be found! My food bowl was really quite empty, and there was nothing to eat *anywhere*." The cat stopped to lick his tail and Buttercup just wanted to tell him to get on with it! "I listened to the howling for *hours* and it finally stopped, I thought, great master would come down and feed me now. But then the worst screaming started up and I just couldn't take it anymore! I took out my special door and came down here. I've been here since. Sometimes when the wind is right, you can still hear the screaming!"

The bunnies weren't very happy at the news. "We need a closet." Jensen finally said. "We could.. maybe.. go inside and look?"

Buttercup wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea, but they could hardly just hide under the steps of some haunted house for who knew how long. There may be plenty of grass to eat, but they had a human and a dog to take care of!

The lightning crashed and boomed again. Both bunnies had been half-expecting it this time.

"It's your funeral." The cat finally said with a sniff and went back to licking his tail. "My door is around back."

Jensen gave a shiver and Buttercup followed him out into the rain.

They made their way through grass that probably could have used mowing a few months back, getting wet all over. "I wanna go home." Buttercup didn't quite cry.

"Me too." Jensen reassured her. He'd had enough of rain and misery and scary thunder and haunted houses and creepy cats and muddy ditches.

The back steps were far less fancy than the front, they were also in less repair. With a shake of fur and ears, Jensen hopped up and stuck his nose in the flapped door. He didn't hear any noise coming from within. He hopped inside, Buttercup crowding against him.

The kitchen was kind of dark. Contrary to the outside of the house, the kitchen was kind of modern. Jensen saw a clock that was flashing midnight and he wished that it was telling the proper time. With time zones and silly things, who knew how long they'd been running around in the rain? He couldn't even tell if it was afternoon or night!

Buttercup stood up on her hind legs, peering about. "I can't see a plugin!"

Well, that would tell them, at least, what continent they were on! "Does it matter?" Jensen finally asked, heading towards the door from the kitchen. He gave a glance up to see that there were in fact overhead lights powered by electricity. He wondered if they were turned off or if the power was out in the storm.

Buttercup sighed, "I guess not." She didn't follow Jensen. "This is the kitchen, shouldn't we just use the pantry?"

"We should at least see what happened to the cat's human, shouldn't we?" Jensen said, nudging the door open.

Buttercup muttered an impolite negative about that idea, but followed him out into a living room.

The furniture was shabby and overstuffed but looked serviceable enough. It all centered on an HD TV with a dizzying area of electronics underneath. There weren't any pictures on the walls and the large bay window was covered by dark drapes. The flash of lightning could be seen against the ceiling, but the curtains fell all the way to the floor, creating patterns in the dust on the hardwood floor. It was cooler out here than in the kitchen.

"I wonder if he knows what a heater is." grumbled Jensen. He was cold, he was muddy, he was wet and now he was traipsing through a strange house. it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Oh he's a flintscape." Buttercup offered.

Jensen didn't think that was quite the word she wanted but instead decided to go up the stairs that were near the front door to the second floor.

There wasn't much to see on the second floor. A room full of cat furniture with a stinky litter box and a non-bubbling water fountain. Another room with a large bed and a dresser with a long mirror propped up against the wall. The bathroom looked archiac. They found the stairs up to the attack behind the fourth door.

"You sure about this?" Buttercup asked.

"No, but let's go anyway." Jensen replied, starting the hop up the stairs. It was gloomy in the attic but they could almost see due to high in the wall windows. The windows were small and round but uncovered, showing the rain outside.

A human lay sprawled in a plush chair. He was balding, with a fringe of frazzled grey hair. His shirt had food splotches on it and his jeans looked very ill fitting.

"Is he dead?" Jensen whispered quietly.

"I don't know!" Buttercup replied. She crept forward, the floor unsanded and a bit rough under paw.  She tried not to breath to deeply since it was even dustier up here than it had been in the living room. She was almost within peering range when she stepped on a dark lump, it let out a wheezing moan and Buttercup turned tail and ran back towards the door.

Jensen quickly dived in front of her so she whumped into his side. They tumbled a bit. The human half-woke with a snortled snore before settling back down.  "I know what this is!" hissed Jensen. "It's not a howling monster!" He paused and groomed Buttercup's nose. "Well, it IS, but it's not alive." he walked across the floor to the mysterious lump, Buttercup following very carefully. Jensen leaned down and put powerful rabbit jaws to work on the rubbery surface. "It's called a bag of pipes! Speedy showed me a TV show with them once. Air gets in here.." he nudged the bit he'd just chomped a hole into. ".. and then it escapes screaming from there!" He pointed with his nose. "But now the air will escape from here and it won't scream. C'mon, let's go find a closet." He turned towards the door.

"What about the cat?" Buttercup asked, following once more.

"What about him?" Jensen let out a little snort, "He's a scardy cat! He gets what he deserves! The human will come looking for him or he'll get hungry sooner or later."

More lightning blinked through the sky, thunder rumbling after him. "Thor's still having a party." Buttercup said. "Do you think Speedy's still having his?" she asked, hopping past Jensen to scurry down onto the second floor. "We *do* have a Hallowe'en story to tell.."

Jensen found a closet and opened the door. "Well, let's see where the closet takes us!"
















Sunday, October 26, 2014

[Bunny Pirate Fiction] A gorilla, a flintlock, and a loot. No poop.

(Special thanks to Mike Donovan for pirate gun assistance :) )


The bunny swung on the rope from ship to shore, doing a flip to land on the sand, in a perfect, if showy, display. He periscoped up as if expecting applause.

Captain Ren, leader of misfit rabbits and humans alike, eyed the rabbit, and watched the rope swing back towards the ship. "You'll be braiding that back together, savvy?"

Don Pedro, Prince of Aragon, Rabbit of Awesome and suaver than shampoo, sighed. He was so hard done by. No appreciation to be found anywhere. Didn't she even appreciate how long it had taken to gnaw through the rope?

* * *

Captain Ren was more than happy to let Jack and the few crewman he'd brought with him go first. Let him argue with the jungle. It was dark and humid under the trees. The underbrush was thick and persistent. The bugs were biting. It was sweat inducing and a long walk for an unknown prize. Captain Jack Sparrow had been rather sparse on details beyond 'lots of shinies, luv!'. She'd been tempted to kick him in the shin again, she instead followed, staring at his butt.

She watched Thor and Mick jump over logs, seeming to be making bunny plots. They seemed to have no problems with running around in a jungle. Bloomin' rabbits. She wasn't even quite sure how many had decided to come play and cause mayhem. Captain Jack seemed pretty enthusiastic at their presence. Speedy zipped by and then back again. He'd probably clocked four times the miles of anyone else. Some buns just wanted to run. She'd left Tracy with the ship, but a claymore clad Lorna and an enthusiastic cutlass wielding Pearl followed her.

"How much further, Papa Smurf?" called Lorna. Captain Ren didn't quite understand the Canadian's humour at the best of times but the query was clear.

"Not far now." Came the reply from Captain Jack. He stopped, playing with mustache. "Question." He stated.

"Yes?" Ren responded, warily.

"How do we feel about giant, possibly rabid, probably poop wielding, gorilla guard?"

Ren considered shooting Jack.

"You didn't tell us to bring cannons." Pearl said conversationally. "I suggest we throw a few men at it and while it's busy eating, we kill it."

"Gorillas are vegetarians, luv." Captain Jack said.

"They'll eat insects." Pearl pointed out. "How big is this gorilla compared to us?"

The mustache twirling paused before Jack spun on his foot to look back through the leaves. He turned back, hand up as if he had an idea and then dropped it.

Ren rolled her eyes. "When it naps we sneak up on it and tie it up. We can release it on our way out."

"Soft heart, luv. What can contain a gorilla that size?" Jack asked.

"Well, I don't hear you coming up with any brilliant ideas!" Ren stepped forward, shoving Jack aside. She looked at the very small mountain that was the gorilla. She let out a low whistle. "Big."

"Very." Jack agreed. "Not the sort you just tie up, savvy?"

Thor rolled his eyes and headbutted Ren. "What?"

He nodded towards the other rabbits and they conferred, nodded, and Speedy jumped through the bushes. Ren almost yelped out a 'wait!' but didn't want to draw that much attention.

Speedy hopped up to the gorilla who was currently sitting and gnawing on banana leaves. He gave a bunny bow and licked the gorilla's ankle.

The gorilla looked down at the very small rabbit and grunted. Speedy grunted back and added a thump. The gorilla rumbled. Speedy tilted his head to one side and trilled. The gorilla sighed and looked towards the group of humans and other rabbits. Speedy trilled again and gave another lick. The gorilla brought down one very large finger to pat Speedy on the back. Well, front, back and tail all in one touch. Speedy licked the finger and the gorilla grunted again before getting to feet and knuckles to walk off into the jungle, revealing a hole in the actual mountain behind where the gorilla had been.

Speedy periscoped up and stuck out his tongue.

"Well, that was easy." Jack said with some satisfaction. "We should celebrate. Who has the rum?"

"I do, but it was my rabbit, so my celebration which doesn't include giving rum to poor planning pirates!" Ren told him.

"You can own rabbits now? Do they know this?" Jack asked conversationally.

"They're my crew, they're my rabbits." Ren replied, refusing to be drawn into Jack's strange world view. She shoved through the brush and into the clearing to give Speedy head pats and a blueberry. This led to her giving all the buns blueberries and oats as they demanded. The crew got rum, which somehow led to Jack getting rum, which Ren decided to ignore. Once everyone was satisfied, "Now what?"

"Well, now is why we wanted the rabbits." Jack said happily. "It's a maze in there, savvy? Traps and mayhem!"

"And you want my rabbits to go through all THAT?!" Ren asked, hand going to the butt of one of the two flintlocks on her belt.

"Aye. They're much better suited to it than we!" Jack said, which received many lagomorphic smug nods. It was well known that bunnies were better at EVERYTHING that just let humans do stuff to feel useful.

There was another conference and Mick led Thor and Speedy in. The humans followed a short distance later.

Winding tunnels with Captain Sparrow provided torches for light, ceilings that suddenly lowered with little warning, twists and turns with no real purpose and tunnels that branched off every which way. It smelled of mold and wet rock. They eventually found themselves in a huge natural cavern that had a treasure trove that was unbelievable, loot galore. All of the pirates, and even two of the rabbits, gasped with awe.

"Stand steady." Captain Jack ordered as he walked along the cave wall and messed around with some rubble. The loot disappeared to reveal a grotto with a small rocky island in the near middle. A small chest with a sword driven into the top rested in the center of it. "AH!" Jack said happily.

"What is that?" Ren asked warily. She didn't much like magic other than the rabbit kind, and even then she was suspicious.

"Sword of Darsus. It will always find the nearest keg of rum. Ye can have the chest." He magnanimity offered. Jack then eyed the deep water warily. "Mr Gibbs, have you learned to swim yet?"

"Uh, no Captain."

"Fat lot of use you are." Jack grumbled.

The rabbits rolled their eyes. Speedy and Thor hopped into the water and swam across to the island. Mick stayed behind, refusing to spend six hours waiting for his fur to dry. The duo scrambled up the chest and gave the sword some dugs with teeth and scrambling paws. Thor gave a mighty grunt and the dwarf bun hauled the sword out.

"Oats for all!" Jack cheered.

The two buns ignored him, dropping the sword to the rocks beside the chest, they then started shoving the chest over. Then peered in the hole and pondered.

Pearl rolled her eyes, "C'mon." She said to Lorna. "What is it with sailors not swimming?"

"Men are idiots." Lorna grumbled as she handed her sword belt to her Captain. Ren did her best not to drop the four foot sword. Pearl didn't seem bothered to be wearing leather armour and carrying weaponry as she shallow dived into the water. Lorna waded in after her and swam when she could no longer feel bottom. The two joined the rabbits. The women tested the weight of the chest and Lorna grunted. It was heavy enough. Pearl lifted the lid and peered inside and nodded to Lorna. Lorna sighed. The lid was closed and Lorna went back into the water, rolling onto her back. Pearl lifted the chest and put it onto Lorna. Pearl then got into the water and started to tow her fellow pirate back to the group. The rabbits very helpfully hopped onto the chest for a free ride back.

"But the sword!" Jack protested. "My sword!"

"Your sword, you go get it!" Ren told him, quite aware he could swim. It was his own bloody problem if he didn't want to give up "Captain nobility" in front of his men. Her crew scrambled up and presented her the chest. It was probably only a quarter full, but it was full of all sorts of gems. "Well, this should pay for my troubles nicely." Ren declared.

"You know, we could trade. Finding rum could be awfully useful, you know how your furry crew love the rum.." Jack started to wheedle.

Ren passed the claymore back to the dripping Lorna. Pearl was using her shawl to dry off Speedy and Thor. The Canadian didn't seem to be bothered she was dripping wet.  The Captain of the Rumrabbit held up a flintlock, and pointed it at Captain Jack Sparrow, "Don't you try to con me. You made your deal, you live with it."

"Now luv.." He started, taking a step towards her, stopping when the gun pressed up against his shoulder. He put his hand over her's, which was gripping the trigger, "You wouldn't be doing that to ole Jack.."

She started to reply but his hand twitched and she'd never bothered to fix the sensitive trigger, after all, who would be using her guns but her? Jack swore as the bullet went into his flesh and surprisingly out the other side. It didn't even bleed particularly much, being more toasted than anything else. "What did you expect you flamin' idiot?!" Ren swore at him as she shoved him to sit down. Pearl pulled off the Captain's shirt.

The crew from the Black Pearl weren't quite sure what they should do, on the one hand the Captain of the Rumrabbit had shot their Captain, or possibly he'd shot himself, but on the other, they were busy undressing him and Captain Jack probably wouldn't be happy if they interrupted a group of woman busy removing his clothing.

Both Captains were growling and spitting at each other. Lorna ignored everyone and took on her job as the Rumrabbit's medic. She poked, prodded, and then handed Captain Jack a bottle.

"What's this for, then?" He grumbled.

"Rum, you can drink it, or you can pour it over yourself to prevent wound rot. Your choice." She tossed his abused shirt at him before turning to Ren. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Ren agreed, tucking flintlock back into belt, having been waving it all about while telling Jack what flavours of idiot he was. The buns frolicked as Pearl and Lorna picked up the chest and the crew of the Rumrabbit returned the way they'd entered.

"Cap'n." Mr Gibbs said after a long silence.

"Yes Mr Gibbs?" Captain Jack Sparrow was still eyeing the bottle of rum and trying to decide it's fate.

"She shot you."

"Yes, she did." Jack agreed.

"And then left us here." Mr Gibbs continued.

"Yes, they did." Jack said amiably, despite screaming sore shoulder with a hole in it, and a decision on how much rum to pour over the wound. The bottle wasn't near full enough for both.

"And we haven't got the sword." Mr Gibbs added.

"An excellent point. Mr Gibbs, Mr Pintel, Mr Ragetti, go fetch the sword."

"Cap'n!" "But Cap'n" "I ken't swim!" were the immediate protests.

"I suggest you learn then. It can't be hard if the wenches of the rumrabbit can do it, carrying a bloody chest back!"

"They do have nice chests." Ragetti offered.

Jack sighed, Gibbs smacked the back of Ragetti's head and the three shuffled off towards the island.

Captain Jack sighed, stood up and dumped the bottle of rum over his front and then over his back with gritted teeth. He then held up the bottle with a sigh, "And now, the rum is gone. Why is the rum always gone?" He turned to the dog paddling pirates. "Get me that sword! We need the rum!"






Saturday, October 18, 2014

[Bunny Pirate Fanfiction] Less flaming poop, More Captain Jack Sparrow.



It was a beautiful day in the south Caribbean. The sand glistened in the bright sunshine, the surf was calm against the beach, and bunnies frolicked amongst all the splinters, rescuing blasted bananas from rotting.

"Do you think we'll have trouble finding firewood?" Tracy asked.

Captain Ren sighed, concentrating on crossing sand in high heeled boots. There was a definite art to not sinking.

"Or dinner, if you like bananas or roasted monkey." Tracy continued, following her Captain across the beach.

"They had it coming." Ren grumbled. There were scorch marks across the deck and hull.

They reached where Jack Sparrow, Captain of the Black Pearl stood surveying the land. He turned as Ren came into view. "Ah! Welcome to Monkey Skull Island!" he said cheerfully, turning with arms outstretched.

Ren gave him a hairy eyed look.

"I didn't know about the monkeys!" he protested.

"It's CALLED Monkey skull island!" She said, poking him in the stomach. Even with high heels, there was inches of difference in their heights.

"Aye well. I thought they'd all be skulls, luv." He gave her his most charming smile.

"What about the mermaids?" Ren asked pointedly.

"Rather lovely, they were, till you dumped all those onions overboard to scare them off." Jack nodded absently.

"And did you know about the mermaids?" She asked through clenched teeth.

"Oh. Right. I may have, indeed, known about the mermaids. But I didn't want you to worry, savvy?" He took a step back.

Ren took a step forward, poking him in the stomach again. "I almost lost Flint and three rabbits!"

"Are the rabbits alright then?" Jack asked with genuine concern.

"They're fine! So's Flint, thanks for asking!"

"Yer welcome." He nodded, "Right then.. I'm thinkin', we camp on the beach tonight and make inland in the light tomorrow."

"Fine." Ren agreed. She then kicked Captain Jack Sparrow swiftly and with enthusiastic force, in the shin.

He let out a bellow and leaned down to rub his shin. "What was that for, mate?!"

"This." She leaned forward and plucked his hat off his head and plunked it on her own. "That's for the flaming monkey poop, mate. You savvy?" She asked, hand on sword.

"Aye," He said, still rubbing shin, eyes revealing a thousand thoughts he wasn't expressing.

"Good." She turned on her heel and marched back across the sand.

Jack watched her go with a gleam in his eye.

"Pardon the Captain." Gibbs said from where he'd stood to the Captain's side, watching the conversation.

"Yes Mr Gibbs?" Captain Jack asked, turning to him.

"It just seems, Captain, you put up with a lot of guff from the ladies."

"Ah, there's good reason for that Mr Gibbs." Jack said, turning and heading back towards his beloved Pearl.

"Aye, Captain?" Gibbs asked.

"They don't always slap you." Jack said with a maniacal grin.

[Bunny Pirate Fiction] The Rumrabbit, a Captain, and a lot of flaming poop.




"Tracy!" Cap'n Renee bellowed, ducking the flying, flaming, poop, that went by her head. "You get on the flags and ask Mister Captain Jack Sparrow that the flippin' fuckin' hell he's gotten us into!" The ship was attempting to navigate the shallows to get close enough to the island to disembark.

Tracy had grabbed the flags and was about to head foredeck but stopped halfway through the rant. "I'm not sure I know how to flag that." She ducked a rather large glob of on fire excrement. The monkeys had impressive throwing arms.

"Can you flag 'I'm going to take one of those hell infested monkeys and shove them where the --" there was a pause as the Captain had to navigate both through coral and avoid more flaming poop. " -- sun doesn't shine?"

"Newfoundland?" Tracy asked a little too innocently.

"TRACY!" Cap'n Ren barked.

The first mate of the Rumrabbit sighed, stepped aside to avoid more firey crap, and started towards the forecastle. "You sure I can't just make you some coffee? You seem awfully stressed."

Thor, T-Dog to his friends, nodded his little bunny head.

"Oh don't you start." Grumbled Ren. "How come none of you are hoppin' to, eh mate?"

The rabbit his head to one side, seemed to consider her words, then started grooming his hind leg.

"I should be on a nice little island, on a hammock, drinkin' copious amounts of rum." She leaned left to avoid the latest projectile. "But no, have a job for you, says Cap'n Sparrow, lots of loot says the Cap'n. So here I am," she stepped backwards, hands still on wheel, "avoiding fuckin' MONKEY POOP!"

"Flaming monkey poop, which smells most delightful," said a pleasantly calm voice. Pearl appeared with a mug which she passed to her Captain. Her path had been one of grace, it didn't seem she went out of her way to avoid any of the projectiles at all, even though they were getting more frequent as they approached the island.

Ren sniffed the cup and smiled, coffee with rum. "Thanks luv, remind me to promote you."

Pearl smiled amiably, "I'll just take my share." She patted her cutlass. "Do we get to slice and dice some monkeys soon?"

"Shoulda let that bloody Sparrow go first. But no, me ship is more manoeuvrable and all that rot." Ren growled then took a swig of her doctored coffee and sighed. "Y'know what? Get out the cannons, explosive blasts, we'll turn and blow the damn monkeys and their trees to splinters."

"Aye aye, Cap'n!" Pearl replied happily, descending to pass on the Captain's orders.

The rabbits did binkies of joy. For supposed prey animals they took entirely too much delight in blowing things up. They then scrambled to helped the Flint, new master of the cannons.

"And then, God help Captain Jack Sparrow when I get my hands on him!" Captain Ren vowed.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

[Random Nonsense] Thor Grin.


I got asked what a "Thor grin" looks like ..  It's remarkably similar to a smart ass smirk.


Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Bunny Knight and his loyal Guinea Pig steed!


[Rabbit Rambles] Two rabbits and a Viking - Oh my!


The nudging wasn't getting him anywhere, so Mr Mick gave a good hard shove into the unmovable object. Said object let out a mumble of curses into the pillow.

"It's a good thing you said that in Danish, or Speedy's mother would be quite upset at you using that kind of language in front of him." Mr Mick told the lump who promptly pulled the covers over his head and buried his face in the pillow.

"I wouldn't know them in English, either." Speedy said with his most put on posh accent and innocent voice.

"Do you drink tea with the queen in that voice?" Mickey asked, sounding vaguely impressed.

"The queen has corgis. They chase bunnies." He shuddered. "Though, I wouldn't mind having tea with the Duchess of Cambridge. She looks like she'd give good head-pets and snacks."

Mick could agree with that logic and turned back to the attempting to sleep viking. He sighed and tapped his hindpaw on the mattress before shoving his head under the arm and sticking nose against neck and wiggling it.

"GARGH!" was the immediate response as the bed monster finally rolled up to glare balefully at Mick. Mick binkeyed off he bed and onto the floor. "What do you want?! It's my day off!"

Mick sniffed and groomed his shoulder. "We want to go for a ride in a long boat."

That got a flat look before Kim flopped back on the bed and pulled the blankets back over his head. The advice he gave sounded somewhat like 'go flush yourself.'

"Tsk. Again with that language." Mickey said with a headshake before hopping back up on the bed and walking up the Dane. "C'mon, we need a human. You're a human, you're not doing anything better."

"I'm sleeping." came the growl.

"You don't sound like you're sleeping." Speedy pointed out in his angelic voice. "You know he's not going to give up."

The blankets were pulled down far enough for a hostile eye to look at Speedy, "How'd you get wrapped up in this? You seem like a nice bun."

"I'm a very nice bun." Speedy agreed, somewhat cheekily. "I've always wanted to ride in a long boat!"

"Why me?" Kim moaned.

"Because Mom said to come pester you instead of her." It was weekly clean-out-the-rabitat day and Mick MAY have been getting underfoot. His humom's suggestion may have been something a bit more forceful. "An' I thought if I'm gonna go bug a viking, I may as well get to ride in a viking ship .. and Speedy was getting bored, so why not bring him too?"

"Nice to meet you, Speedy." Kim mumbled and sighed. "FINE." He sat up again. "Where do you plan on finding a long ship that someone won't notice borrowed and why do you need a human?"

"Do I look like I can row?" Mick snapped. "Sheesh."  He hopped back on the bed and looked up at Kim. "You might want to put some pants on."

"Why didn't I think of that?" The eye-roll just underscored the sarcasm.

Several minutes of fumbling and stumbling later and Kim found himself sitting in his own closet. "Who's driving this thing?"

"Me of course, Speedy has never been there."

"It's true. I'm very excited!" Speedy replied, hopping up and down in place.

"Yaaay." A yawn cracked Kim's face. He closed his eyes and propped his head against the wall. He should probably tidy up his closet more often. It was one thing for rabbits to come and go as they so chose, but sitting on shoes wasn't terribly comfortable. He was wondering if it was possible to rabbit proof a closet to prevent entry on weekend and lie in days when the wall disappeared and he tipped over sideways with a clatter of cleaning implements. The true insult was the bucket that bounced off his head.

Speedy tilted his head at the stream of inventive Danish. "I'm not sure that's anatomically possible or that the banana would enjoy it." the English bunny finally said.

Mr Mick took notes for future reference before putting his ear to the door. "OH!" He snapped a wide plastic strap onto Kim's arm. "You'll need that." He then nosed open the door to show a dim walkway. "C'mon."

Kim stumbled to his feet and rightened the mess in the closet. No reason to be a bad guest, he supposed. He walked out to the hallway and looked suspiciously at the mural on the wall. "I've seen pictures of that."

"Probably! Auntie Lorna posted lots of pictures!" Speedy said, hopping off down the corridor, Mr Mick in hot pursuit.

"Wait.. What?" It was a lot warmer in their new local and the sun was only vaguely in the sky. "What time is it?"

"Let's see, 2pm in Valhalla, means it's 8am here. Ish." Mick answered.

2pm? Oh, he HAD slept in by a lot. Perhaps the rabbit had a point. "Your mom is doing your cage at 8 in the morning?" He asked, following the lagomorphs.

"She woke up at 5, couldn't get back to sleep or something." Mick stopped and looked back and up at Kim. "How do you NOT sleep?"

"Well, first two rabbits invade your room.." was the droll reply.

"Thppppt."

Kim shook his head and followed for a few more minutes before stopping to look at the sign. "You have got to be kidding me! You want me to get in a NORWEGIAN long boat??"

Mick rolled his eyes, a very impressive talent in a bunny. Speedy covered his mouth with his paws, as if holding in a snicker. "Well, I'd get you in a Danish long boat, but APPARENTLY you're allergic to mice or something because you don't have an exhibit here!"

"Allergic to Americans, more like." Kim muttered into his beard.

"I heard that!"

"My, what big ears you have." Kim gave his best Thor like grin.

A thump of irritation. Speedy was definitely holding snickers behind his paws. "You two are great!" Speedy offered, "Such good friends!"

"We are not friends!" both said in the same breath.

"Right. Silly me!" Speedy said before continuing his hop to the long boat ride at the Norwegian exhibit at DisneyWorld.


Sunday, April 13, 2014

[Lorna ramble] Why I am not currently involved in rescue.



I've been asked a few times as we head towards Easter why I haven't been posting about bunnies. I've been asked a few times why I'm no longer involved in any rabbit groups. I've been asked why I'm currently not even involved in any rescue and the answer is simply the attitudes.

The biggest problem with any volunteer organization is there's people who get the "more volunteer than thou" attitudes. While almost fifteen years ago, I've had this one myself! I thought "I bend my back for this organization, I deserve more recognition and rights than someone who volunteers 1/10th my time!" And I was WRONG. We all volunteer what we can, we do what we can, we offer and give what we can. No one volunteer is better than any other. However, I run into this all the time, the attitude of entitlement, the attitude of superiority, the attitude of higher rank and right. This leads to in-fighting and politics and frankly, I just don't want to deal with any of it any more. If you want to wear a crown because you help, more power to you, but I'm not kissing your ring. Sure, there's people who know more, who have more experience and who we look up to for advice and help when we're lost, but I've yet to meet any of these leaders who have the attitude!

Another I run into is the "Holier than Thou"s who believe their way is the only way. "Oh, I just want to HELP" they say as they busily tell you how you're feeding your pet wrong, you're giving them exercise wrong, or you're not doing something else. The bottom line, to me, in pet care 'Is the pet happy, healthy, and having it's needs met?' If yes, I shut my yap. A great example in rabbit care is the controversy about pellets. Some pellets are horribly bad for them, some are okay, some are fine. Some rabbits can be trusted to be free fed some will go piggy. However, in the minds of the self-designed experts all pellets are bad, no bunnies should ever be trusted to free feed and anyone who does so is an idiot. They're not shy about telling you you're an idiot either. There's no multiple ways to the same destination, it's their way or the highway. They talk down to you, they try to make you feel small, they treat you like the rawest recruit with the brains of a guppy and they often use aggressive words. I don't need that in my life. I didn't need it in my life even when I was in rabbit rescue but I thought it for the better good and just tried to water off a duck's back. Funny thing, I didn't run into nearly as many of them in cat rescue and there's just as many discussions about 'proper feeding' in catland.

I'm also no longer on the backside of a mountain where rabbits tend to get dumped. So I'm not seeing those rabbits who need to be fished out of the bush and brought to a rescue. I've moved a few times, my number has changed countless times, I'm probably a lot harder to track down and for people to say "Lorna, we found a rabbit in.." or "Lorna, I think there's a rabbit.." Hopefully these people have found others to call or call the BCSPCA.

I'm not saying all people in rescue are bad or full of attitude, far from it! I have met some truly wonderful people in rescue and some of them, I hope!, will be life long friends. For the most part, the average volunteer is a giving, wonderful person, who is a joy to be around. However, I just can't stomach the bad apples in the barrels anymore. I have enough crap in my life, I just don't to add more to it. Maybe when my load lightens again, I'll take on volunteering once more, but till then, I just try to support those who do!

Monday, April 7, 2014

[Star Trek Bunnies] Mark the Bunny, true ruler of the USS Spectre

http://startrekfreedom.com/index.php

 
I adore cooperative writing and I think my favourite remains Star Trek PBeM groups purely because everyone knows Trek and it's just so open ended you can do pretty much anything.

The ship I'm on is the USS Spectre, Captained by the wonderful Alan. At some point in Alan's weaker moments, he thought letting me add a rabbit personality to the ship was a good idea. Mark the Bunny is a houdini. He has a thousand ways of escaping the Captain's quarters and getting out and about the ship. In this case, he's managed to end up in engineering. The problem is, the two feet are all suffering from hallucinations, one Ensign Frost thinks Mark is an evil overlord.


Mission: Inimicus Invisa, Part Two - Fallen Comrades
Day: 5
Stardate 2414.10.15

(USS Spectre - Main Engineering – Mark the Bunny - 1930)

Frost whispered to the little bunny, "You can't talk I hope, you are just a little normal fluffy thing. But if the rabbit invasion is coming. I am on to you, and I will stop you."

There was probably a universe where Mark was sapient and would understand such threats. In such a universe he was probably leading such an invasion if not plotting the domination of the galaxy. This universe, however, had to settle for a vaguely sentient rabbit who just expected for everyone to do what he wanted and had no real way to enforce that expect through passive aggressive peeing and general stubbornness. It was ridiculous how disorganized two foots were and Mark was forever trying to train them to the bunny method.

He was carried to a different part of Engineering and the two foot sat down, giving Mark the opportunity to wiggle around so he was resting against the two foot's chest, his chin on the two foot's shoulder.


This gave Mark the ability to get pet, to watch the room for dangers and not to have any bits dangling with indignity. Some two foots just didn't know how to hold a rabbit properly!

Time passed.

Mark was starting to get bored. He nibbled on the two foot's artificial fur for a bit, but it didn't taste very good so instead he settled for squirming around, wriggling out of the two foot's grasp, and jumping down to the deck. He picked a direction mostly at random and made a dash for it.

(Reply Any)
(Posted by Lorna

Friday, April 4, 2014

[Gerbil Stories] Talking Gerbil

 
There's a gerbil sitting in his cage watching me as I read. The story has a bunny in it, it has to be good, right? (Elizabeth Ann Scarborough's "Song of Socery" for those who are interested)
 
"Cheep" goes the gerbil. I don't pay him much mind.
 
"Cheep, Cheep" says the gerbil. I look up.
 
He stands up on his hind paws and says "Cheep, Cheep." again.
 
I say "Cheep" back to him. Okay, I mangled the happy gerbil chirp. I got a look of 'Huh?' So I tried again "Cheep." No, not much improvement. "Cheep!" I said a third time and this time got whisker wiggles.
 
"Cheep!" says the gerbil.
 
"Cheep!" says the human.
 
"Cheep, cheep!" says the gerbil.
 
"Cheep, cheep," says the human.
 
"Cheep, cheep, cheep!" says the gerbil.
 
"Cheep, cheep, cheep!" says the human.
 
There's silence as he looks around. I think we've just run out of gerbil ability to use progressive math. He grooms his whiskers, he seems to be thinking about it, and then "Cheep!" before disappearing into one of his hideys.
 
"Cheep." I say. I then get off my duff and check his water and food, he has plenty of both, he has, however, eaten all the sunflower seeds out of the mix.
 
I, being the stern, proper, pet mom, didn't give him more sunflower seeds. I gave him a few pumpkin seeds instead.
 
 

[Lorna Blather] Humour vs. Bullying.

 
 
So - after being told I was being oversensitive on a friend's page (and we all know I can be oversensitive, I know it, you know it, we all know it!) I decided to look into what's considered bullying and what's considered humour.. and the best answer I came up with was "If it hurts, it's not funny."
 
But DAMN, is that nebulous. Rape jokes aren't funny because they dismiss the suffering of those raped, it desensitizes to the crime, and other than as a self-directed coping mechanism you shouldn't hear them. (And even before I ever thought about rape jokes as funny/not funny those self-directed never struck me as anything close to ha-ha.)
 
Making a "Top 5 crappy Cosplay Costumes!" video doesn't seem very funny to me. It seems to be point at those who are just starting out and mocking them. "Oh look, you can't sew, you suck." It seems an effort to drive people out of the fandom, to me. But is it okay because it's anonymous and on the internet? I mean, it's not like any of those people will actually ever SEE that video, right??
 
A post about women gaining weight which showed "Then and now" pictures seemed very not funny to me. Some of the women looked like new mothers. One looked like she'd been through major surgery. The majority of them didn't look unhealthy, just larger. There's a difference between fat and unhealthy - and you know what? So WHAT if a woman is fat? Oh, but anyone pointing out the obvious is told she too much be a 'fat cow' and 'ugly.' I could quote all sorts of stellar winners of comments, but I think most of us have seen or heard them before even if they weren't in our direction.
 
Geekdom is infamous for trying to create a pecking order. "Well, I have been playing this game since BETA." So what? The game has changed since beta. "Girls can't game." I heard that one A LOT growing up; because I had a vagina I couldn't possibly know how to play CRPGs, RPGs, or even shoot 'ems. (I could wrap the score on Centipede as much as I wanted as a kid.) When Doctor Who first rebooted back in 2005, there was a lot of "I've been a fan since Tom Baker, so I'm better than you!" attitudes. We couldn't welcome new people into our fandom because .. they're not as cool as us? Not as old as us? Not as British sci-fi obsessed? It popped up again with the influx of fans that joined with Matt Smith. "TENNANT IS BETTER! YOU SUCK!" type comments came around. Sorry, I've been a watcher for a time and I disagree with Tennant being better, it doesn't mean I will tell the Tennant lovers they're wrong or they should be ostracized.
 
Was I being oversensitive at a post that fans of only the J.J. Abrams Star Trek films are calling themselves Star Trek fans is 'face-palm' worthy? Probaby. But, three things keep me from apologizing. One, those fans are right - they ARE Star Trek fans! They are fans of movies called 'Star Trek.'  Two, those movies may serve as a gateway to the old show. I find it doubtful, since the shows are kind of worn no matter how good their message, but it's possible. Three, Star Trek is about inclusion, peace and friendship. Who are we to mock people who have found that road, no matter how they got there?

I don't expect, or want, my friend to take it down. It was cute in its way and she obviously thought it was humourous rather than hurtful and I trust her judgment. I just think we have to consider who our throw away comments and meme posts could hurt more carefully, and I definitely include myself in that 'we'!

Monday, March 31, 2014

[Lorna Grumpy] The Saga of the Running Children.

(Do you know how difficult it is to find a picture of kids running indoors??)
 
The unit down the hall from me has two children (with a third on the way.)  Their kids run down the hallway to the elevator and mash the buttons. They then mash the buttons in the elevator. They sound like a herd of buffalo when they go down the hall.
 
I thought I was just being too quiet so I wasn't masking the noise of their noise very well. So, I moved my bedroom around so my head was beside the outside wall, I put a fan between me and the door to the hall, and typically have music playing non-stop. I switched which way I lay on the couch so my head is at the outside wall, I have a fan between me and the door and I have music between me and them, although the TV isn't. I still can hear them pounding up and down the hall. The vibration is as bad as the noise. I can hear them when I have my headset on and am streaming hockey.
 
I have fibromyalgia. I sleep when I can as I can. Often that involves being woken up by the kids as they run down the hall. The barking dogs out back don't wake me, the power tools of home reno don't wake me, the vacuuming of the hall doesn't wake me, but the kids do. I'm also an introvert so I loath confrontation. I put off, for as long as I possibly could, saying or doing anything. The final straw was when I was on Skype with a friend and I got a 'What was that??' and I said 'the Kids from down the hall running to the elevator.' I've written at least four letters of complaint, the head of Strata talked to them on more than one occassion. The Mom said she'd take the stairs, the Dad didn't seem to care one ioata. Now, her taking the stairs doesn't seem a practical answer to me, but whatever. I'd have thought the better measure would be to teach the kids not to run in the hallway. Head of Strata said he's not here when it happens, I'm gonna have to talk to them myself. (He put it way nicer and diplomatically, but that's what it boiled down to. The harshness is me, not him.)
 
So, fine, today, when the kidlets when pounding down the hall, I went and found clothing, and opened my door to ask them to ask their kids to not run down the hall and I got told "They're kids, they're run. How do you ask them not to run?" Which sounded like a get out of parenting excuse. I realize that kids have energy, they need to burn energy, but do kids in school not manage to learn "Don't run in the halls"? I didn't have to be taught that in school since I already knew it! And I started school at the age of four! Maybe I'm overestimating the abilities of a 3 - 4 year old? Isn't there a certain behaviour for certain places rule book? Don't you teach kids these things?
 
So I ask, how would you / did you, teach your children not to run indoors?
 

Sunday, March 23, 2014

[Freddy Update] Little Old Man.


Freddy is at least three and a half years old now and he's definitely slowing down. He doesn't run up to the top his cage anymore and he's starting kicking all his food out of his bowl that lives up a tier so he doesn't have to travel up as often. Of course, his water bottle is still up there, so perhaps I should move it down to the main level. I'm just not sure if that would help or hinder at this point. His fur is no longer as plush and he doesn't always open his eyes all the way as he meanders about his cage.

When I present him with treats he just gives a morose look until I move my hand to him. This, however, could just be a gerbil training his pet human to be more considerate. I put a piece of popcorn down beside him today because he didn't seem particularly interested in taking it from me. He just had more interest in sleeping.

He's sleeping most of the day away now, being active mostly around dawn and dusk. He could be running around half the night and I wouldn't know, but I suspect not. He just seems tired and sleepy most of the time.

He's still friendly, happy, and cheeps, he's just slowing down a lot. Poor little guy, obviously needs a few more pumpkin seeds in his life.

Friday, March 21, 2014

[Thank you] Dental Donators.





Thank you so very much everyone who helped to make my dental goal and enable me to get my teeth fixed without going deeply into debt once again. It means so very much to me that people who are facing their own financial struggles helped me with mine. Thank you, your generosity is truly appreciated.

I'd originally planned to write everyone who donated a story. Most are animal people and animal stories I can write. (Okay, and one pirate story.) But my brain is just fibro fogged and not cooperating. I have vague ideas but they're just refusing to connect. The stories may appear over the months upcoming, I really hope they do.

My friends make my heart sing. Thank you!  

❤♡

Thursday, March 20, 2014

[Rambling Story] Turning Canada's finest into a cart horse.


(Random RCMP officers)
 
Standing in line at the grocery store for the self-checkout, a member of Canada's finest comes up behind me.
 
"Lorna!" says this handsome Mountie.
 
I turn and smile, "Yes!"  (Me so social.)
 
"We miss you in Cultus." He says. "Where are you living now?"
 
I have to assume he's one of the RCMP who was (still is?) assigned to the check-point that appears most summer nights on the road into Cultus Lake.  I tell him my new locale in Chilliwack.
 
"That's a good area, some thefts and car vandalism, but little violence."
 
'Bloody cop' I think. "I like it. I can walk to all the important places like Tim Hortons."
 
He looks down at me. "Is that more than you're supposed to be carrying?"
 
I look down at my basket. "Uhm, yes?"
 
He sighed and held out his hand. I meekly hand over my basket. He is only carrying some coffee and carrots. (Maybe he has a bunny to feed? Obviously the coffee is for a lagomorph.)
 
My turn comes up at a till, so he carries it over and says 'wait for me' and goes back to the line to wait his turn. I'm a good girl, I cash out, I put stuff in bags, I carry them to the end and wait for him, putting the bags down. (Okay, only MOSTLY a good girl, but I couldn't just block a till.) He cashes out and picks up my bags. "Where'd you park?"

"Around the corner. It's just less stressful, there's always spots there." Its a bit further than the other parking spots, but no fighting to find one, no "argh, I can't see if there's people walking behind me" and no people suddenly driving behind you as you try to back out, etc etc. I can't turn at the waist, backing up is similar to backing up in a pickup with a canopy on.
 
And so, he carried my groceries to my car and loaded them in the passenger side. And let me tell you, if you want to get double-takes in your direction, have a member of the RCMP carry your groceries for you. "You're going to take two trips to carry them in, aren't you?"
 
"Sure!" I agreed with absolutely no sincerity. He just sighed. "Thank you," I said, quite grateful for the assistance.
 
"Not a problem. I'm going to pretend that you'll carry them in one at a time, just like I pretend that you don't think speed limit signs are vague guidelines."
 
I looked my best wide-eyed and innocent, "Of course, officer!"
 
He shook his head and told me to take care of myself as he made his way off to his cruiser.
 
And that's about why no one will ever convince me that all cops are assholes, or corrupt, or whatever. I'm not saying all police are angels, but the majority just want to help people.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

[Bunny Fiction] Desperate times call for desperate measures.



Whisky humphed, his bowl was quite lacking in treats. Oh, sure, he had FOOD, but nothing he wanted to eat. The furless two foot had just stumbled off to bed and left him to starve. Stoopid humans, no appreciation for bunny needs. Why, he'd even let those stinky "foster" bunnies out into the garden first. Didn't the ape know who was boss around here?

Whisky had enough and let himself out of his pen. Enough was enough! If the human wasn't going to feed him properly, he'd just have to feed himself. Really, was it so difficult?

"Oi!" Anouska called, "Where are you going?"

"I am going to get food." Whisky replied, haughtily. Really, why did the stupid does always think they were such hot stuff?

"Gonna get us some too?" She asked.

"No." He sniffed, turning to present her with bunny butt for a moment before hopping off.

"This is why no one likes you!" She called after him before turning her own back on him.

"GOOD!" Whisky called back over his shoulder. He was perfectly happy being an only bun. If only his stupid human would learn this. Really, he was quite fond of his thumb owner, but sometimes the two foot was a bit thick about things like 'one bun household.'

Whisky stopped at the computer and looked up at the desk. Everything he wanted in one place, how handy. He nudged the chair out and took a few steps back before taking the leap up onto the seat. The chair sritched a little and he had to turn an ear towards the human's sleep den. (Really, how many dens did one being need? He had like four or five!) When the human made no indication he was coming to invesitage, Whisky scrambled up onto the desk.

"Hmph." He said, nosing around. "Car keys.." he mused as he tongued them. Nah, he'd have to cooperate with Anouska and her stinky mate to use them. He nosed the keys off the desk. "Paper, paper, paper.. And can I chew any of it? No. Mr Cranky Pants gets all cranky." The paper followed the keys, fluttering to the ground. "Ah ha!" He found the wallet he was looking for and tossed it open. He pawed at the cards until he found the one he wanted and grabbed it in his lips. This would be so much easier if he had front teeth. Damn tooth fairy had stolen his and claimed it was for his own good. Stupid tooth fairy.

With card in lips he turned back to the computer, kicking the mouse to bring it back to life. The TV had well prepared him for this next section. He tapped in the address to the browser, he went to the 'order' tab and typed in his selection with a minimum of bunny profanity as he mistyped. Nose typing was an underrated skill. He entered the credit card numbers, he selected "Box" under 'extras' and under 'special instructions' ordered "Just leave it on the step, extra box underneath." and hit send.

With the magic of the interwebs the request was sent off and he was informed he'd receive confirmation by email. With a sigh, Whisky turned to the magic of email and started a good grooming while he waited. The confirmation of food, extra box, and instructions were all confirmed and Whisky deleted the email. With a satisfied grunt he grabbed the card and shoved it back in the human's wallet and putting the wallet back where he found it. He then hopped down onto the chair, and then down onto the mess of papers. He thought the human really should be neater about these things.

Whisky ignored Anouska's grunts and complaints and hopped over to the front door to wait by the mail slot. He groomed his ears, and then his face, then his belly, and then gave up on it all and settled down for a nap. Humans were very slow about all sorts of important things and food was just about the most important ever. He was just getting into a nice dream about grass nomming when the noise of a truck arriving, a human walking up and putting something on the stoop, and then walking away again woke him up. Grumbling, Whisky waited for the stupid human to drive away again. He could smell the yumminess already.

Getting the door open required some acrobatics with drapery, the lounge chair, and one flying bunny. Shaking his head, Whisky looked out, then around and hopped out. While it was tempting to go for a long run, there was food to dispose of first. He wiggled the empty box to be a ramp and dragged the other box up before shoving the empty box after it. He had to admit, humans who followed orders without complaint were nice things. It was even nicer of his own human to pay for such exemplary service.

Closing the door was much easier than opening it, that was for sure! Whisky tossed the empty box into his enclosure to chew on later. He could build a fort or something. The other box, he nosed open and rubbed his paws in glee. An entire vegetarian pizza and it was all his! If bunnies could produce maniacal laughter, he'd laugh. Instead, he had to settle for butt wiggles and sinking mouth into cheesy, bready, goodness.

He was only a few bites in when Anouska called for a piece. Whisky, chewing madly, was quite happy to tell her to go stuff herself. She countered that without bribing she'd start thumping and get the human in here and then Whisky would lose his pizza and be in a world of trouble. Whisky glared at her, women were so high-maintenance.

Sighing, he hauled over the box to the foster cage and picked up a piece and tossed it over the fence. His aim was pretty lousy all things considered. It was hard to throw something half as long as you were, that was floppy, AND couldn't be grabbed by non-existent front teeth! So, it was a very pleasant surprise when the piece of pizza landed, topping side down, on Anouska's back!

"OW!" She yelped, shaking the piece off.

Whisky winced, it WAS kind of hot. "Sorry." He offered. While he would be reliving the glee of her getting bits splattered across her fur, he didn't wish her actual injury. Well, not any he didn't inflict personally, anyway.

"Hmph." She started in on her piece, her mate showing up soon enough to share in the bounty.

Whisky was happy enough to go back to his own pizza and nom through a piece and a half. His tummy very full he yawned and stretched. He had over half a pizza left. He looked over at the fosters and they were both looking rather hopeful. He sighed, he supposed it wouldn't kill him to share with the wretches, even if they hadn't said thank you for the first piece. Another piece went over the fence, this time landing with a splutch on the carpet. Eh, they'd clean most of it up. If the two foot got crankyt, it wouldn't be with him!

He stretched again, and closed over the box and dragged it into the food section of the human's warren. Getting the cold box open was always a difficult trick and generally not worth the effort, so Whisky just opened a cupboard and put the pizza in there to keep. He'd finish it off tomorrow night if the human didn't get all greedy-grumpy. Yawning, he was pretty happy to hop back to his own enclosure and close it behind him. He'd more than earned a nap.

He looked around. Boy, the living den was sure messy. The human should take better care of his warren rather than just leaving stuff lying everywhere!

Saturday, January 18, 2014

[Fibro Note] Allowances.



  • I am allowed to be vocal about my pain if it helps me heal
  • I am allowed to be sad in places other than my own head
  • I am allowed to express my anger/sadness/hurt in ways that do not hurt other people, whether that is in writing or speaking to friends
  • I am allowed to speak my truth even when it makes others uncomfortable
  • I am allowed to take care of myself, even if it makes people who hurt me uncomfortable
  • I am allowed to create my own rules for self-care

[A Ramble] Hunting, Sport Hunting, Trophy Hunting.

(Tosses a bale of hay out on the balcony to distract the bunnies.)

I recently dared to post to my Facebook timeline two pictures; one decried trophy hunting, the other decried sports hunting. Doing so apparently means I'm against all forms of hunting, am trying to pee on people's freedoms, steal all guns, lock people in their basements and hate everyone who has to eat.

Uhm. No.

Trophy hunting is going out for the purpose of killing an animal for having a trophy. Typically this is to show some sort of uber scary manly (in the adjective sense rather than gender sense) ability at gun use. This is the killing of a moose for its antlers, this is the killing of a lion to take it home and have it stuffed. While the moose meat may be handed out to people, more often than not it goes to the flies. I haven't seen the statistics for how much of the lion meat gets eaten, but as carnivores tend to taste like drek, I'm thinking next to none.

Sports hunting is going out for the purpose of killing an animal for the fun of it. Typically this is just for the endorphin or adrenaline high that comes from shootin' thumper into little itty pieces with a .45 Magnum.  This is the joy of shooting a kangaroo so full of holes you couldn't eat it even if you wanted to. This is going out to the savannah and shooting as many lions as you can. Lions are a favourite target of both, by the way, since they look like such scary, manly, threats, but really aren't. (Do your own research, I'm too pissed off to do your homework for you.)

So, apparently since I'm against those two forms of hunting I must also be against people who hunt for food. Apparently I also must be against population control, human safety and a host of other things that involve dangerous creatures having to be killed. I know this because I had several people tell me at great length how scummy I am for this.

Listen, I'm against reckless driving, but that doesn't mean I'm against people going for a Sunday drive up to Othello Tunnels. (Unless they're doing 130 km/h and weaving in and out of traffic.)

I am sick and tired of people automatically assuming the worst of me and starting a fight. Instead of just jumping in with both feet and assuming all sorts of things about me, wouldn't a "What do you consider sports hunting, Lorna?" have gone oh so much farther? Instead of making Facebook a place I don't even want to be, wouldn't a little extrapolation have been recommended? And y'know, even if I *was* against sports fishing (which isn't the same as hunting?) where you put a trophy on the wall and eat the fish meat, isn't it my right to say so on my wall? You don't like it, instead of doing your best to treat me like the crap you want scraped off the bottom of your boot, wouldn't it be better to make a counter post on your own wall? Or defriend me? Or ignore the post? I never said "Bob is scum because Bob hunts deer on weekends." I said trophy hunters and sports hunters suck.

I am an omnivore. I see no difference between going out and humanely killing Bambi as I do going out and humanely killing a cow. I do see a difference from humane slaughter and driving into a pasture with an AK-47 and mowing down a herd of cattle, deer, whatever, just because you can.

Friday, January 17, 2014

[Random Nonsense] I have met a fly with cataracts.






I was sitting out on the balcony enjoying the sun and breeze, drinking coffee and reading. At some point I must have spilled some of my coffee, I hadn't been paying any particular attention to it. When I switched seats because the sun was in my eyes, I noticed a house fly was playing in spilled coffee.

I doubt instant coffee with sugar and whitener is particularly good for humans, I have no idea how fly friendly it is, but he was happily wandering around sucking it up. What made him interesting was that instead of the red-brown his eyes should have been, they were 90% cream with the very centres were white. Instead of the dark carapace, it was flaking and had a strong white sheen. It was either diseased or old.

Considering we're in January and it's not exactly been warm food rotting weather for several months, I can only assume it was a fly of great age. I watched him drink for a while and when I got tired of holding my coffee mug I put it down. When my shadow went over him he paused but then continued drinking. I couldn't decide if it was he couldn't really see anything or if he's got that cantankerous age of 'I survived all sorts of stuff you wouldn't believe, I ain't movin for some stinkin' shadow!" I figure it was probably the former.

It wasn't until I stood and walked in front of him that he stopped and fly back onto the wall away from me. It was like he knew I was there but I didn't really exist until I was visible to the front part of his eyes, the only dark part.

Flies get old and fall apart just like the rest of us. Who knew?