Bunnymund (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bringinghopewithme) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-03-22 07:22 pm
bringinghopewithme) wrote in thecapitol2014-03-22 07:22 pm
I'd like to phone a friend [Open]
WHO| Bunnymund and whoever you are.
WHAT| Bunny tries to get help from below, by contacting a local Earth spirit. His attempts are failing to yield results.
WHEN| As soon as he got out of the Training Center into the city.
WHERE| The park at the center of The Districts shopping center.
WARNINGS| Child-friendly swearing, attempted magic.
A giant rabbit lighting fires in a park draws attention. Which is all the more frustrating for Bunny, since he SHOULDN'T be drawing attention, no matter what he does out in the open like this. Every adult who stares at him with open confusion hammers home just how wrong something has gone, that whoever's in power in this city has the ability to suppress him into as close a state to mortality as he's been in many hundreds of years.
He could grumble about his situation, but that would get in the way of trying to get help. So he ignores the stares and keeps at work. His work, so far, is a hole in the ground, a pawful of pulled grass, moss, and flower petals stolen from various topiary on his way in search of the most natural place he could find in the midst of the city. He strikes a shard of flint he uncovered in the digging of the hole against the metal of his communicator, lighting a fire in the dry moss on a patch of earth he's cleared of grass, and dropping the flower petals onto the heat.
The way he kneels over the smoldering plants has all the look of a ritual, and the words he intones over them in a language that hasn't been used in the Capitol in much longer than 75 years do also.
All his kneeling and chanting isn't yielding much, though, to his frustration. With a growl, he jumps to his feet over the smoking flowers, still looking at the ground. "I know you're there, and I know you can hear me! You might not recognize me, but I'm close enough to being one 'a yours and I need your help. Wake up."
Still nothing. He stamps the ground, impatient, and growls again as no hole opens, no flowers grow, nothing happens except that he garners a few more bewildered looks from the humans who shouldn't be able to see him.
"Strewth."
WHAT| Bunny tries to get help from below, by contacting a local Earth spirit. His attempts are failing to yield results.
WHEN| As soon as he got out of the Training Center into the city.
WHERE| The park at the center of The Districts shopping center.
WARNINGS| Child-friendly swearing, attempted magic.
A giant rabbit lighting fires in a park draws attention. Which is all the more frustrating for Bunny, since he SHOULDN'T be drawing attention, no matter what he does out in the open like this. Every adult who stares at him with open confusion hammers home just how wrong something has gone, that whoever's in power in this city has the ability to suppress him into as close a state to mortality as he's been in many hundreds of years.
He could grumble about his situation, but that would get in the way of trying to get help. So he ignores the stares and keeps at work. His work, so far, is a hole in the ground, a pawful of pulled grass, moss, and flower petals stolen from various topiary on his way in search of the most natural place he could find in the midst of the city. He strikes a shard of flint he uncovered in the digging of the hole against the metal of his communicator, lighting a fire in the dry moss on a patch of earth he's cleared of grass, and dropping the flower petals onto the heat.
The way he kneels over the smoldering plants has all the look of a ritual, and the words he intones over them in a language that hasn't been used in the Capitol in much longer than 75 years do also.
All his kneeling and chanting isn't yielding much, though, to his frustration. With a growl, he jumps to his feet over the smoking flowers, still looking at the ground. "I know you're there, and I know you can hear me! You might not recognize me, but I'm close enough to being one 'a yours and I need your help. Wake up."
Still nothing. He stamps the ground, impatient, and growls again as no hole opens, no flowers grow, nothing happens except that he garners a few more bewildered looks from the humans who shouldn't be able to see him.
"Strewth."
no subject
This is against everything, everything he went for, before a Guardian and after. It was beyond frustrating that just when he was given his purpose, he was thrown into here. There was a game being played, and he was the scapegoat. And needless to say, Jack wasn't exactly happy about that.
He never saw Bunny digging a hole and asked someone other than the Moon for help. For a while, Jack stood there, feeling naked without a staff to lean on, or to even hold. He doesn't speak until he straightened up, patting the ground with a big foot. Oh, Bunny.
Jack approached him then, walking through the grass with his bare feet. "Have you tried talking to Man in Moon?"
no subject
"Strewth, Jack, they got you too?"
He bounds over, crouching in front of Jack and raising his paw to squeeze quickly through the winter spirit's hair in a practiced gesture of affection as he glanced Jack over, protectively, for signs of harm. "You all right, mate? They didn't hurt you?"
They hadn't hurt him - not deliberately, anyway, but he had fought back enough in the Training Center to require suppression. They'd done him no damage, dealt him no more pain in the process than was needed to get him to stop, but whatever they do to him - it's another matter entirely, if they've done the same to Jack.
no subject
Any time that Bunny was scared, Jack found himself scared too. It took a lot to scare a six foot bunny, and when it did it was something major. That was something he kept to himself, though. All of the Guardians kind of gave him that idea, anyway.
He stood there as Bunny ran a hand through his hair, looking for any signs of injury. Jack had none…outside, at least. He looked down to his feet. "No, they didn't hurt me."
He didn't know how to explain this. Did Bunny hurt the way he was hurting? Jack sniffed, wrapping his arms tight around himself. "What are we doing, Bunny?"
no subject
He was a survivor of terrible things, a hunter of nighttime horrors, and as long as he still had his stature and his skills, capable of both without his magic. Jack was a Guardian too, without a doubt, but without his magic . . . Jack was just a boy. Barely outside childhood. And Guardian though hew as, he was not a belligerent, tough old warror. Jack was snowballs and funtimes. He was light and happiness in the cold, innocence that never quite faded away, even in the darkest, coldest part of the year.
It was one thing to put Bunny in an arena to the death, but to put Jack in? Did they want to shatter that joy of his, take joy themselves in watching it break . . .?
Anger, now that was useful. And Bunny was furious. They took him - enough to piss him off. They took Jack, too. They want to put Jack in a death match.
Enough that he reconsidered his grandiose threats about molten nickle pits, and decided - he wasn't exaggerating.
Add Jack to his list of concerns. Let them grow it all they want. They would pay dearly for it, the first chance he got. And there would, he vowed, be a chance.
But just then, he had to take care of Jack. Had to give him hope.
"We're doing our job," he said, plainly, with a calmness that didn't match the anger burning below his surface. He patted Jack's shoulder, not breaking the contact between himself and the Guardian he'd underestimated before. "You hear me, mate? First chance we get - we're taking down another monster."
He didn't like to think about how long that would take, without their powers. But magic didn't make a Guardian.
no subject
He felt hopeless. And lost. And-
"How can I do my job here?" He didn't sound condescending, or sarcastic. "People want me to kill others here. I don't know how I can do it. It's like laughing in their faces. It's not true."
Jack had always held the idea of fun as being sacred; being a Guardian even fueled that. But now…?
no subject
He couldn't find it. But he was hope, he was putting one foot in front of the other even when the snow was falling too deep and home was just at a flicker in the distance. He wasn't Fun. But he could support it.
"Being a Guardian is about more than just our centers," he said, centuries of Guardianship behind his words. "Sometimes it takes more than a snowball to the boogeyman's face. Sometimes, you gotta help an empire fall. They expect you to kill innocent mortals?"
He scoffed. He'd made the mistake of thinking Jack might do that to get attention once. He'd never been so impressed, or so overjoyed, to be proven so wrong.
"They don't know you like I do. Look at me, mate."
He patted Jack's cheek, a familiar, even familial gesture.
"We're gonna go out there," he said, firmly. "We're gonna take down this monster any way we can, because that's what Guardians do. You're not allowed to lose hope right in front of me, right? I'd never allow it." He cracked a smile, to show he was joking - because if he didn't make a joke of it, the thought of Jack losing hope would hurt his heart too deeply.