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

[nubilate]

... It feels pretty strange to be stretching my legs after all this time. It's been a while since I've been thought about at all, right? Although it feels like a lot's changed, since I've been gone. But, you know, it's fine. I kept myself busy. I had a lot of work to do, so I was getting on with it.

I'm just wondering, though. Is there a plan in mind with all this? I'm not scrutinising you or anything, but I just wonder what you're trying to achieve. Is there a goal?

... Well. Whatever. 'It's nice to be back,' I guess I should say.

'Let's play together nicely.'

Comments

[nubilate]

[ 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?

[carcinoma]

-- 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.

[nubilate]

[ 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?

[carcinoma]

[ 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?

[nubilate]

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.

[carcinoma]

[ 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?

[nubilate]

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?

[nubilate]

[ 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.