TEXT: KIT

Kit: Happy birthday, Bunny! I hope your day is wonderful (and that it's alright for me to text?)

Kit: I just wanted make sure you knew I hadn't forgotten. :)

Bunny: Ah!

[five minutes pause]

Bunny: Oh, my dear paws, how rude. I apologise.

Bunny: It is alright and it is appreciated. Thank you, Kit. It is nice to hear from you.

TEXT: RAE

Rae: I heard it was your special day today! happy birthday, bunny. i hope it's been lovely

TEXT: AILENE

Ailene: haaaaaaappy birthday, gorgeous girlie!!! xx

Bunny: Hm? Not I?

Bunny: Oh! But thank you, Ailene, for your kind words.

TEXT: SHERRIE

Sherrie: Happy birthday, lovely! xxx

Bunny: Oh! Deary, is it that time already? Thank you for the well wishes, Sherrie.

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I guess one way of dealing with your New Year’s Day hangover is letting your cousins jump all over you?

@mctwisp: Spending my day with Dum and Dee, but all the same Merry Christmas to ye!

Who are your three favourite people in Cherry Grove?

Oh, my dear paws. This is a tricky situation, wouldn’t you say so? I wouldn’t in the slightest want to get my wires crossed and hurt any feelings...

I think my safest, steadiest option would be to say Jefferson, Grace, and Dan. They’re my family. Of course... I have biological family, but I can’t ascertain that they want anything to do with me... 

Clad in a bright, turquoise t-shirt (bedazzled by Jefferson himself), a pair of ill-fitting khaki trousers, and a pair of fluffy slippers; Bunny completed today's ensemble with a long, grey trench coat with pockets so deep they surpassed her knees entirely. With glitter dotted beneath her eyes, tiny golden stars spattered along her cheeks, and the remnants of last night's performance makeup smudged against her skin, she was certainly earning the strange looks and awkward, lingering gazes that were being shot her way. With her head down, hands trembling and heart hammering in her chest, she focused on her destination, ignoring the stifling sensation that was coursing through her as she felt countless eyes on her.

Trundling along the cobbles of Cherry Grove, taking one slow stride after another, Rebecca felt her skin prickle as rapid jolts surged through her chest, informing her of the anxiety attack that she was well on the verge of. She'd had a long, tasking night, and the morning after had been no relief to her stress-addled mind. After venturing out onto the tight rope for the first time – she'd grown rather comfortable in her role over the passing months, having initially explored various different aspects while on the road with the circus, but soon settling contentedly into her role as trapeze artist – she'd felt her heart in her throat throughout the entire performance. Bunny was no stranger to executing the perfect stunt when atop a pyramid, or a quadruple full layout with a 1440 degree twist; but on the tightrope there was nobody at the bottom to catch you should you fall, no invigilators at the side waiting to hold up a placard rewarding you with the perfect ten. Instead, she was met with hundreds of eyes as people jeered and caterwauled, an abundance of strangers practically egging her on to fail.

Luckily, everything had gone according to plan, but that didn't changed the way her head spun when she awoke that morning. Nor did it change the itch she felt crawl across her skin, that nervous tick that she needed to feed; Her performance the night before had been uncontrolled, not within the realms of her own management. She could only do her best, with no real control over whether or not it went well or not. Bunny so detested not being able to be in control. Ever since that night all of those years ago, her agency ripped from her, stolen by some heinous creature that she'd once upon a time been fool enough to call her friend, Bunny liked there to be order in her life. She liked to have everything within her grasps, and when she couldn't control a situation and wield it to her own tastes, she tried to focus on the things that she could anticipate.

With a key to Jefferson's apartment, and knowing that her friend would pay no mind to her letting herself in, she began hurrying along the street, muttering under her breath. She could feel both Tweedledee and Tweedledum fidgeting in either pocket of her jacket, their soft ears poking out as they tried to take a peek at their surroundings. Whispering assurances to the two rabbits that she'd have them out of the cold and back at Uncle Jefferson's soon, she breathed out a low sigh of relief when the small, run-down apartment block swam into her views.

She wasted no time in climbing the stairs and letting herself in. She didn't bother to call out to inquire as to his whereabouts; Bunny knew fine well that Jefferson scarcely spent his evenings at home anymore, instead opting to work into the night at Hat'll Do It, or marking papers over at the college, or – dare she be such a gossip to even think it – staying late at the diner, talking late into the evening with the pretty waitress that he'd grown something of an attachment to. Bunny's heart ached at the thought – she loved Jefferson greatly, and she wanted nothing more than a happy ending for her best friend, she felt a strange tug of jealousy at the prospect of her only saving grace being torn from her clutches. Her love for Harriet, Cher, and Alice would certainly never waver, but there was a certain degree of uncertainty that came with seeing her three old friends of late – she couldn't bear to be around any of the substances that some of them still tampered with, nor be reminded of the life she once lead. And then, of course, there was Dan, and the rest of her extended family; but even then, she hadn't known them quite as long as she'd known Jefferson, and there was a certain degree of familial, as well as therapeutic, comfort that came with being within his company.

Wasting no time in settling her acquaintances down, letting the Tweedles disappear and venture off and explore the apartment, she was perfectly settled in Jefferson's bedroom, knee-deep in the mess that he called his home. While the two performed something of a back and forth, their differing stances on the state of his apartment a rather comical sight to behold, Bunny found it weirdly cathartic to shuffle through the mess that were Jefferson's personal belongings, sorting them into orderly piles and ensuring that his room was utterly spotless on his return home.

A noise sounded behind Bunny, a flurry of movement evident behind her that was much too noisy to be that of a rabbit – or even two! – and she froze on the spot.

“Oh, my ears and whiskers!” she cried out, the words falling from her lips before she could contain them.

Tendrils of hair spilled out in front of her face as she slowly turned around, certain that she wouldn't find herself staring back at Jefferson. Anxious, her whole body quivering as her mind rapidly explored a multitude of unsavoury situations that could surely unfold, she soon found herself staring at a woman that she didn't recognise at all – not even a little bit!

“Wh– and who might you be?” Bunny pondered aloud, her eyes wide as she clenched her fists at her side, willing them to stop trembling. 

TEXT: JAY

Bunny: "It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"

Bunny: You taught me that I must keep going, and that only I can push myself farther, for if I stood stock still or kept going at the same pace, I'd never get anywhere at all.

Bunny: Though they call us mad, and sad, and a little bit funny, I hope you enjoy these birthday wishes from your dearest friend Bunny.

I’ve always liked quiet people: You never know if they’re dancing in a daydream or if they’re carrying the weight of the world.

John Green, Looking for Alaska  (via wnq-writers)