dear_mun | Voice testing. Can you even do that with OCs. I don't know.

Ah -- it must be wonderful getting some fresh air, if you've been rather cooped up!

[ wow. look at you, guy. his gaze drags from the guy's tumorous face up to those soft, flopping ears and hornlike protrusions, and then he smirks a little bit, looking down.

well. his eyes, with their dark pupils, tell him he's not like him. that, or far too much like him. there's no in-between on these things. ]

... Yeah. It's easy to go stir-crazy when you can't get out, hahah.

Is it the same for you? Looking like that. [ he pauses, and then clarifies it after a moment, adding at length. ] ... You look like you don't get much sun.

[ lop's fairly used to people staring at him -- it's not like he's unaware of how unnatural he tends to look. so he only gives a polite laugh at the other's comment, shuffling his sleeve a bit as he picks his words. ]

Ahaha, well -- it's not exactly lack of sunlight that's the problem, I think. [ pause. ] Although I guess it wouldn't hurt to venture out a bit more.

[ it's not like he's really uncomfortable talking about himself, but it's really rather boring. he'd much rather talk about this nice new acquaintance! ] Is there anything you plan on doing, now that you're out? I imagine you must have had a lot of time to think about things to do.

Yeah? [ his smile is positively congenial, his black gaze flicking down to study where lop plucks at his sleeve. nervous habit, maybe. he looks to the position of his feet, looking at how he stands, his posture. it's natural to assume it's a custom job by someone with strange tastes...

hahah. weird. he'll never get to grips with the ridiculousness of any of it. ]

So you're the naturally pale type.

[ the man straightens, thrusting his hips into the pockets of his black jeans. while lop's talking, he's moved a few steps closer, putting them at a fairly normal talking distance. ]

'A lot of time'?... I guess so. I try not to think too far ahead, but I'll probably just do what comes naturally. I do have a plan, though; I couldn't afford to complain about the failings of others, otherwise.

... I just need to clear a few things, first.

[ but apparently, it's not something he's about to share readily. instead — ]

Hey.

Those are nice ears. [ his hand raises. there's a slight tic in the smallest finger of his right hand, twitching like a jumping nerve; it's subtle unless one really studies it. ] Can I touch?

The naturally pale type? Um, I guess?

[ canting his head slightly to the side, making his ears gently rest against his shoulders, lop shifts the way he stands -- bobbing slightly on his feet as the other draws closer.

this talk of 'plans' sounds like something serious and private -- right? it's kind of hard to gauge how he should be responding, and lop fiddles with the hem of his empty sleeve, trying to think of what to say. it's probably a good thing that he doesn't need to actually respond.

it's only when he's inquired about his ears that it makes sense, a little. this person's probably never seen a shope before, huh? that would explain why he's interested in the ears and assumed his appearances are strange. well, that's okay. ]

Ah -- of course! Just please just don't tug on them.

[ ducking his head a little so his ears sway forward gently, lop tries not to fidget.

a pause, before he inquires, ]

You've never met a Rabbit before?

Oh man. Don't worry; I wouldn't hurt a fly. Do you get teased a lot? ... It looks like it'd hurt if they were pulled. They must be pretty sensitive.

I bet they bleed a lot when you cut them, too. Do they keep you cool?

[ he's entirely gentle when he takes lop's ear in his hand, feeling the velvet-soft fur there, turning it up slightly to look at the pink shell leading down into the hole in his skull. it's looks convincing, and feels convincing. under the skin of his fingers, he can sample all manner of things that further validate this strange, unexpected truth; the fur itself, the flesh beneath, even the barely-visible flakes of dead skin that would be caught in such organic matter. there's nothing about lop's ears, at least, that would be considered fabricated.

his gaze narrows, scrutinising him closely, but the pleasantness of his smile never fades. that's... really interesting. it provokes a curiosity like an itch deep in his brain. ]

No... not a real one. I've seen pictures, but they didn't look anything like this. Apart from the ears. [ maybe he's a weird strain of some kind. maybe that's why he's got that disease. the man glances up over his glasses, thoughtfully, looking at the fleshy growths and lop's bloodshot eye in a new light, now that he's familiar with the components that make up his body. and then he shifts closer all of a sudden, raising lop's ear and pressing it to his nose, inhaling. he lets it go easily when he's done, hardly a second later, and he presses his rigid tongue against his teeth as he thinks. but he doesn't take a step back again. ]

... By the way. I've been wondering for a while, now, to be honest. What happened to your arm, rabbit?

I haven't been teased by my ears before, no -- I don't think there's anything very unusual about them?

[ shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other, lop tries not to move too much as this stranger inspects his ear. he can feel every small press of fingertips and palm against the fragile membranes, the way nails almost graze against the short fur. it tickles against his scalp, the way his ear's being moved, and he can't help giving a little twitch, a tiny squirm, when he feels the other's fingers gently rubbing against the soft, sensitive inside. it distracts him enough that he completely misses that hard stare directed at him.

it's only when he feels the sudden, distinct warmth of this stranger's face pressed close up against his ear that he gives a startled little yelp. lop blushes furiously as the stranger backs off, his good hand raised to sheepishly brush his ear back so it nestles against his hair. ]

Um -- I had it removed, sir.

[ there's a shy, slightly nervous edge to his words, and the blush hasn't quite faded from his cheek as he picks at his empty sleeve. lop brushes down the folds of fabric, that lumpy knot right in the middle of it, and gives an awkward half-smile as he elaborates, ]

I'm sure you've noticed that I'm -- diseased, sir. It affected my arm, so it had to be removed. [ a pause, before he quickly adds, ] Ah -- it doesn't affect humans though, so please don't worry.

[ his attention darts up when lop startles, and he raises his hands slowly with a languid sort of innocence. the smile that steals across his face, seeing lop blush, is somewhat sly, almost close to teasing, but he gives no explanation for his actions; after all, not giving the game away doesn't necessarily mean he feels obligated to explain his actions in some other form. ]

Aaah, right. Yeah, I see. A disease. Hahah, well... even if that weren't the case, I don't think I'd be that scared of catching anything from you. I'm the kind of guy who's never been sick. [ he gives the long antlers and stark red tumours a considered stare. well... in truth, it hadn't occurred to him to that that would be anything extraordinary. lop's his first ever meeting with a 'rabbit', after all. who's to say what's normal? but now, knowing what it is, it holds his interest well. the kinds of things nature creates to attack biology...

... what an interesting disease. ]

That's too bad. About your arm, I mean. It must've been really painful for you to lose it.

[ his head tilts. ]

Was your flesh too damaged to accommodate a new one?

[ still tentatively smoothing down the fabric of his empty sleeve, lop takes the chance to study this stranger as surreptitiously as he can -- that is, not very. it's hard to tell what this man is thinking, to be honest. wanting to touch his ear was a fairly understandable sentiment from someone who'd never seen a rabbit before, but that sudden inhale was just so -- strange.

he's still distractedly trying to make sense of what this person might want to know about him (?) that he's a little bit confused by where the conversation is going. ]

... a new one?

[ a slight cant of the head, his ears flopping down to bump against his collarbone. ]

A limb transplant? I'm afraid there aren't many who believe giving something as difficult as a full limb transplant to a Jackalope. Even if there weren't any problems with tissue rejection or infection, the chances of the virus just moving onto the new limb would be too high -- I think.

[ a pause, before he gives an awkward little laugh. he's clutching at his shoulder without realizing it, fingers pressed against where his shoulder slopes abruptly down to a flat edge. ] Um, I'm sorry, i'm rambling. I guess the thought of a transplant never even crossed anyone's mind at the time.

[ there's no missing that he's being discreetly observed, but even if it's acknowledged, even if it's perhaps clear in his gaze that he recognises that, he doesn't seem awfully troubled. it just means he needs to try a bit harder. he's doing something wrong if he's causing trouble, but, hahah, it's okay if he messes up a little bit with this guy. he's not even that important.

the hand gripping that shoulder catches his interest, for a moment — though more because of the motion in his peripheral vision than any wariness or concern. are there tumours bulging out along it, he wonders. what's the texture like. are they filled with fluid or solid material. just idle thoughts, awkward offcuts of a poorly-conceived 'imagination' that his mind struggles to work around. ]

Ah. So that's it.

... I think it's fine like this, though. [ he reaches to press his hand on top of lop's; his palm is a perfect room temperature against lop's skin. ] Lots of things still function fine after you break them, right? They find a way around the broken parts.

Although, if you're really fond of breaking things, that can be a pain.

[ his tone gets wistful. ] You can even be strategic about what you break, sometimes... Sometimes something you break a little can have a more interesting function than when it's working like it should. Because when it works like it should, you can map its functions better. It makes it predictable and boring.

... So you're more interesting this way. Don't you think?

I bet some people even think it's cute. Right?

-- um. [ it's such a strange situation, so very much beyond anything he's used to, that lop can't help looking down and making a little, hesitant noise when he feels the hand close down over his. he stares at the stranger's hand -- doesn't it feel a little cool? -- and then looks up at his face. once more, back down and back up as he listens to what this person is saying -- his brows furrowed in confusion. ] Broken parts?

[ he doesn't pull his hand out from underneath the other's shoulder, or try to back away. not yet. there's no reason to, right? but he does blush a little bit, biting uneasily at his bottom lip. while it's kind of flattering that he's being called ... c -- cute, it seems a little odd. ]

Well -- ah. I guess some people find it interesting -- although most other Rabbits don't want to come near out of fear of infection. And -- and some people find it to look kind of disturbing. But um. I guess -- humans find it new and interesting? Because it's unusual. And I'm not sure about c -- [ he blushes fiercely, rambling freely now. ] -- cute, but if you think so, then maybe?

[ his cheeks are red, the fine fur on his ears bristling slightly from his nerves, and lop takes in a deep breath to try and compose himself before asking shyly, ]

Um, are you a scientist? You sound a bit like an academic. Just with talk of functions and parts. It sounds very intelligent.

[ lop's behaviour is a little unexpected to him — but it's not like he doesn't know those responses, either, in a way. the way lop makes a tiny, nervous sound when he touches him, and the way his face gets hot, but he knows those things from other scenarios, other conditions. when someone's afraid, or nervous, or excited. he wonders which one is true of lop. ]

... A scientist?

Hahahah! You really think so, huh? Do I sound like that?... I really like that. That's great! [ he shakes his head jerkily from side to side. ] ... But no, no. Nothing like that.

Although, I'm always trying to get smarter and learn new things. Like everyone else. Everything I know about functions and parts is just part of... 'discovering myself', I suppose.

[ he hasn't moved his hand off of lop's, yet, so he finally does. he ghosts his fingers up to lop's collarbone, feeling fragile, slim bones beneath stretched skin and thin, draping fabric, and then he draws his hand away to scratch at the back of his neck. ]

Do you have a name?

[ lop's heartbeat is positively a hum by now, his normally faster-than-human pace racing against his chest, and he gives a nervous little twitch, his ears twitching a bit at the base. it's only when the other's hand slips off his own that he lets out a small exhale, the lingering flush in his cheeks fading the slightest bit. ]

Well it -- sounded very impressive. And it's a good goal to have, to always try to learn more! I think a lot of people tend to be satisfied too easily, but it's always respectable to want to learn more.

[ a little nod to confirm his sincerity, and lop returns his hand to fiddling with his sleeve, adjusting the knot in the middle of the empty length of fabric. looking up at the request for a name. ]

Ah -- I'm sorry! That was kind of rude, wasn't it?

[ a brief pause before he holds his hand out. the gesture feels a little overly formal, given how close they were just a moment ago, but it doesn't hurt to try and be polite! ]

It's Lop, sir. Lop Underbrush. May I ask yours?

Sure you can. [ nothing stopping him, after all! except, you know, that this guy isn't offering his name at all. he does accept lop's hand though, giving it a strange turn, a clinical inspection, and he hums thoughtfully as he eyes it — as though lop just offered him a sample of something, rather than a part of his body.

after a while, though, he seems to get it. and then he bows his head over lop's hand, brushing his mouth against his knuckles. past his slightly parted lips, his soft teeth graze in a gritted smile. ]

Hahah, 'Lop', huh? A themed name? That's cute. I like themed names. [ he lets go to straighten up again, giving him an inquisitive gaze through his glasses. ] Have you read Beatrix Potter? She was into that. Benjamin Bunny and Peter Rabbit. It doesn't make as much sense as yours, though. Anyone can tell you're a rabbit, so why would it be part of your name? Unless you're prone to forgetting. Or you don't look like a rabbit... sort of like you, I suppose. In which case, isn't Peter Rabbit suited better to you, and Lop Underbrush suited better to Peter Rabbit?

I'd write her a letter about it, I guess. But she's dead.

[ it's not that lop is uncomfortable around humans, and it's not that he's too self-conscious about his condition to interact with normal people, either. it's more that -- the constant mixed signals he's being thrown here is confusing him, badly. there's an awkward silence hanging around him as he waits for this man to give a name in return -- because that's the polite thing to do, right? but instead, all lop gets is the soft graze of fingertips against the back of his hand, brushing against his wrist.

that bright flush across his cheeks slowly returns, flaring pink when he feels lips feather against his knuckles. he's too startled by the action to pull his hand back, and it hovers dumbly in place even when he's let go. all he can do is stare wide-eyed at the non sequitur about peter rabbit. ]

-- um. [ there's a significant pause before lop slowly pulls his hand back, fidgeting with the tied-up empty sleeve at his side. his gaze darts from the ground, up to the other's face, then quickly back down as he stumbles over his words. ]

I'm sorry if this is a rude assumption to make, but -- does -- does the fact that I'm a Rabbit bother you, sir?

Bother me? [ he looks completely taken aback by that — and then he scratches his jaw, looking at lop thoughtfully. eventually, that hand moves to just brush over his lips with a similar contemplativeness. ]

... What makes you say that? Do I seem to be fixating?... Sorry about that. I forget to be polite sometimes when I encounter new things, since I'm not good at social graces and things like that. By bother you mean, it's distracting or unappealing, or maybe that I find you loathsome?

[ he smirks a little bit, brows furrowing. ]

Am I bad for your self-esteem? Sorry, sorry. I like you, but I think it's probably a good thing if I tell you that I've never known how to be nice.

Voice testing. Can you even do that with OCs. I don't know.

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