#copperwarmachine

[hornedchick]

Ugh, soooo tired, and have to be up early for work tomorrow. Will continue things at some point tomorrow, depending on how the wifi at work is doing...

[giraffesonparade]

"T-t-t-trick or tweet?"

Happy Trick or Tweeting!! Have some bird lollipops!!

[justbootlaces]

Keys had just brought his worry up to Boots, and was a bit boggled at her quiet dismissal of the idea.

“Dana, last time you saw them was a few days before she was born.”

“And?”

“It’s the middle of May!”

The woman rolled her good eye, and shrugged, folding more freshly washed onesies and tiny socks.

“When I came home, I did the same thing. Just give him more time, okay? And besides, if you’re really that worried, you got two feet. I love them both to death, but I have to look after Emma. And I can’t do that when I’m on my knees puking up what I ate three days ago.”

That, at least, Keys understood. This portal in particular always seemed to cause her issues.

“Your father and I are starting to worry. I’m sure certain friends of yours would be getting on your case, too. And don’t you think for one minute I won’t tell them, if you don’t shape up, soon. You’ve barely left the house since Emma was born. You’re getting pale, and you aren’t getting the exercise you’re supposed to be getting. Please. Seriously. Take the baby to meet them. It’ll do all of you some good.”

Boots opened her mouth to protest, and Keys cut her off, before she could speak.

“You’ll go, or I’ll tell the fathers of a certain group of little boys that you’re available to babysit every weekend for the next month.”

“... Fine.”

*~*~*

Boots leaned against the wall, letting the dizziness pass.

“Dammit, I hate this…”

She held Emma closer, as the little girl fussed, and smiled.

“I know, honey. Mommy’s okay.”

After a moment, she stood straight, picked up the dropped diaper bag and her cane, and set off down the hallway.

“Rabbit…? Ollie…? Anyone there…?”

[silverwarmachine]

No Longer Waiting

He had been nervous to go see Rabbit. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as others had told him? Maybe the Colonel had already seen to his brother!

Ollie scanned the same sentence in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice several times without really reading it; his only focus was Rabbit.

Standing, he put the book aside, not caring to mark the page. As he walked out of the library, Ollie's legs felt as though they wouldn't cooperate with him. He was scared to see the state his copper brother was in, and had been avoiding seeing him so broken for weeks.

Just a few turns... Just a few turns and the nightmares would be back... Then again, so would Rabbit, so it wouldn't be all bad, right?

Rounding the last corner, Ollie squeezed his shutters closed, afraid to see down the hall to Rabbit's room.

He opened one shutter...

"Rabbit?" His voice was barely a whisper. Rabbit laid on the floor of the hallway, leaning heavily against his bedroom door.

In an instant, Oliver was by his brother's side, holding him with his single arm.

"Rabbit, oh god, I'm so sorry that I didn't come to you sooner! Are you alright?!" This kind of treatment would not be suitable for humans, so why is this happening to Rabbit!?

The site made Ollie's boiler work overtime.

Junior had been right.

It was time to get furious... after making sure Rabbit was alright.

[hornedchick]

copperwarmachine replied to your post: Random late-night thought: if 1897 Rabbit and Love...

[[ Okay, so you show up in my Copperwarmachine tag, but not my Littlewalterlove tag, even though it tells me it SHOULD show up. Interesting.]]

//Weird. And I know there are at least four people that I'm following who no longer appear in my list... Tumblr, you're drunk, go home!

[hornedchick]

Random late-night thought: if 1897 Rabbit and Love ever get together, and then NARJon goes to play with them, the cuteness will reach dangerous, possibly lethal, levels.

[hornedchick]

Okay, I no longer can tell which Rabbit is more adorable, littlewalterlove or copperwarmachine. I think it's a draw.

[silverwarmachine]

Sick

[[Warning: Shit's about to get real :3 Also, I suppose this is where I should put trigger warnings, for the immediate, and for future parts of this thread: vomit, blood, hallucinations, manic insanity (if that counts???). This will be the conclusion of the M!A from a while back, which needed to end way before this. Apologies for the delay.]]

There had been a lull in activity at Boots' house since Oliver was napping, sprawled out over her couch, but something made him stir.

An odd feeling that hadn't been there before, almost like a small fire had started in his stomach.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, eyes barely open, brow furrowed.

There was perspiration all over his body that he hadn't noticed before.

"Boots?" Oliver spoke out in a weak, shaky voice. He looked at his hand, now very pale, and didn't want to imagine how the rest of his skin looked.

He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice stronger, and sat up. The movement was slow, but it was just enough to make him dizzy and unable to speak.

The 'fire' was getting bigger, spreading to his abdomen and limbs, and his head started pounding and swimming even worse.

Oliver swallowed, breathing hard, and placed a hand to his forehead.

Sweat and heat poured between his fingers, his hair and clothes seeming to suddenly stick to his face and frame uncomfortably.

"Boots?" Even shakier, his voice was a bit louder this time around.

Though it was too late already.

A surge of pain shot through his spine like lightning, sending him to the floor. He finally let out a pain filled yelp as his temple collided with the wood of the living room floor.

Everything was blurred and hot, but Oliver couldn't move; couldn't help himself. All there was to do was lay on the floor, arms clutched around his midsection, tears streaming out.

"Boots! Keys! Anyone, ple-!" His plea was cut short, the fire in his stomach catching in his throat. He swallowed as hard as he could, deep breaths turning to pants and gasps between choking back cries.

Any attempts to get up were all for naught, his body weak, tired, and in pain.

Another lightning bolt to the spine.

He couldn't hold back anymore.

Using what little strength he could muster, Oliver got on his hands and knees, crawling slowly towards the kitchen, but it was too late.

He started retching.

With every shaking breath, he felt worse, and started sobbing. In retrospect, eating as much as he had was an awful idea.

Every fiber of his being was aching, the pain shooting through his spine again, making him crumple into his own vomit. The smell alone was atrocious, but he couldn't tell; his senses weren't functioning properly anymore.

Something in his body was preventing him from losing consciousness, though what part he was not sure.

Helpless and sobbing, he only hoped that someone would come check on him, and soon.