paradisa | [5] 23 Days Until Easter

[It's been a weird start of the month for Bunny. What with Holly Peaks, then getting not one, but TWO people from his home world, one of which he assumed was long gone. All in the space of a week. To make matters worse, the castle had decided to do this on the very month where Easter was held.

He could have sworn the place had done it on purpose.

As is normal for him, instead of facing any of the worry and heartache Katherine's arrival has brought him, he's thrown himself into his work. It needs to be done, anyway, and it means he doesn't have to deal with his own feelings on the matter. It's win-win, really.

And so, anyone out in the gardens today will find red tulip-like flowers sprouting everywhere, look closely enough and there's a slight glow to them. A few flowers are also blooming, revealing small white eggs on spindly legs within them. The googies, freshly brought into the world, are all heading over to where Bunnymund is sitting, pots of paint beside him as he goes through the labourous task of painting each googie, then sending them down inside the safety of his burrow. To await their big day.

Of course, to those who don't believe in the Easter Bunny, they don't see him. As he paints, his journal is open beside him, so he can listen to the casual chatter of the residents, a splatter of paint occasionally hitting the page and soaking into the paper as he works]

That whole dodgy Holly Peaks mess put me behind schedule. It's not like I can access my realm here, y'know. Everything has to be done by paw. But if it thought it could put me off, then that plan went down the gurgler.

[Another paint splatter, then a sigh. He can't keep his mind off things as much as he'd like to] Anyhow mates. Have any of you heard about Jack Frost? Mother Goose?

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Not always. I've found good things, too.

Like what?

I found you.

[ Her face is still water. ]

I am not good.

[He shakes his head, a soft smile crossing his face]

Nah, I don't believe that for a second. You're one of the best things that's ever happened to me. Here or back home.

I'm really not. My hands are hard and my feet too. My hair is always tangled and I can never stay clean. And I've done things. I don't like them. I don't like me.

[He shifts a little closer, offering her a smile]

So? Who hasn't done things? You're still here, you're still strong. Most important? You're still you. I don't know about anyone else, but I wouldn't want you any other way.

[ Not everyone has done such bad things. Jaqen called her evil once. She'd thought Jaqen was her friend. Like Yoren. Like her dancing master. They all left. They all lied.

Sometimes she wishes she could be anyone else but her. Someone who isn't ugly and hasn't done anything bad. She would be happy with someone who isn't so full of holes.

Would Gendry have stayed if she was better?

Arya picks up the half-painted egg waiting patiently by her feet. Dipping her brush in paint, she finishes putting dots on it. ]

[He watches her, a touch of concern crossing his features, but he knows not to push the matter]

That googie's a real beaut'.

[ She makes a face before confessing: ] I don't really know what I'm doing.

You're doing fine from where I'm sitting. They don't have to be fancy, after all, it's about the heart that goes into the painting.

[He smiles a little faintly, putting his own painted egg down, sending it into his burrow] I've missed doing it all this way.

[ She lets her egg scurry off. ]

How many will you make?

Oh, 'bout three hundred, maybe four hundred. Depends on if the castle does anything else tropo before Easter to disturb me.

Do you have to make so many? There's not that many people in the castle.

Well, people are going to want more than one. And I have to spread them out so everyone gets a chance to hunt for them.

Back home, I make millions.

Alone?

I have my monoliths to help me.

They paint? Don't you need...fingers?

No, they don't paint, but they help herd the eggs to the flowers that paint 'em.

[He concentrates, laying a paw on the ground, a small blue flower sprouting up from the snowy ground. He bats a googie towards it, and the flower releases a puff of blue at it, covering the egg in a mottled paint]

There's more to it than that, a river that gives them swirls, vines that give them patterns. It's a big operation.

That looks easier. How come you don't grow more of those flowers?

I use them to make my paints. [He gestures to the pots lying about]

But it's keeping the googies in line. They'll wander off, given half the chance. It's easier to just paint them one by one, than chance the little blighters everywhere, trying to get them to walk in any sort of order to be painted.

[He misses his monoliths, it's really hard to escape a GIANT STONE EGG]

Nymeria could help. She would never eat them.

You know...that's not a half bad idea.

I'll leave her here. She'll be glad for something to do.

[ As if knowing she's being spoken of, Nymeria's head swivels toward them. ]

[He still doesn't like it when the direwolf looks at him. As much as he knows he's safe from her, the rabbit part of his brain still wigs out a little]

Ripper. That'll be... well that'll be something. [Please don't eat him in the night, Nymeria]

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