Regulation and Control

Who: Nymphadora Tonks, Rabbit Tuor
What: Baby mama drama.
When: Late night, Saturday
Where: Tonks' flat, Notting Hill.

When the patronus came to alert him, Rabbit was sitting around his coffee table with Atticus, Coop, and his grandmother (who, after giving hours of advice to both him and his sister decided to come back to Liverpool to be their glue for as long as they needed her). Understandably, Coop screamed bloody murder, throwing her playing cards in the air mid-‘go fish’ at the sight, Atticus only raised an eyebrow, and his grandmother muttered something that was such an old Italian expression that none of them could translate its meaning.

It took a few minutes to calm his sister down, and he was grateful that his brother was around to make tea, and that Nonna would be around to stay with her for the night - because the old woman kept shooing him toward the door, insisting that things would be just fine. And with them around, Rabbit was sure that Buttercup, who had been a bundle of nerves and tears for the past few weeks, would be just fine.

He didn’t bother changing out of his pajamas, or apparating to his normal spot in the alleyway near Tonks’ flat. It was no more than twenty minutes after the patronus was sent that he popped into existence in the woman’s living room, barefoot.

"Hey," he said as a greeting, his eyes worried and dark with shadows, opening his arms for her to fall into if she wanted.

( Patronus to Rabbit, sent late Saturday night )

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Nymphadora Tonks
What: Thirsty Thursday! Featuring nicknames, sugar gliders, painkillers, Chinese food, brains, karma, religion, and lots and lots of alcohol.
Where: Tonks' flat in London
When: Thursday night, sometime after 7pm
Rating: PG-13 for language
Status: Closed // Complete

( Rabbit almost had a heart attack, and his field training showed in his response. )

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Viola Marlowe
What: Vi meets Rabbit's menagerie.
When: Evening of Monday, 4 August 2008
Where: Rabbit's flat in Liverpool
Rating: G.
Status: Closed; Complete

( Dogs could be trained to bark in gratitude, but he thought hugs were much cuter. )

( Owl to Seren )

( Owl to Graham Pritchard )

( Owl to Rabbit Tuor )

Who: Red Rabbit. They get their own tagname.
What: Pints after work. Being manly. Drinkin beer beer beer.
When: Afternoon, 30 July 2008
Where: The Leaky Cauldron
Rating: PG-13
Status: Closed; Incomplete.


“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How are the kids?”
“Good.”
“Wotcher, Rabbit.”
“’Lo, Jake.”
“How’s your mum?”

Two more minutes passed of greeting everyone in the pub, asking about their day, complimenting their haircut, answering their questions… thank god he was a weekday regular and not a Saturday night veteran – Rabbit didn’t think he could remember that many names. Only when that was over did he finally sit down at the bar, asking the man behind it with a crooked grin, “You ever seen Cheers, Red?”

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Nymphadora Tonks. And Lila for a bit until kid needs to run to bed, which is when things will get ~naughty~.
Where: Tonks' flat, London
When: Sunday 27th July, 6mm
What: Dinner and a movie. Romance.
Rating: TBA
Status: Closed; Incomplete

Rabbit rarely spent any time in what he believed where the ‘artsy’ districts of London, Notting Hill among them. In fact, he was fairly certain that the only time he had ever even seen Notting Hill was on his television. Buttercup was a bit of a Julia Roberts worshipper, and it was his first hint that she had a bad day/was hungover/PMSing when he walked into his flat and Notting Hill, or Dying Young, or Pretty Woman was playing.

Not that he always minded. Pretty Woman was a great fucking film.

Notting Hill on the other hand… was kind of boring. But he tried to reserve judgment on the place (although he didn’t trust new pizzerias at all and had picked up dinner from his favorite local joint), and apparated two streets from where Tonks lived so he could take it in more thoroughly.

It was a fifteen minute walk from the alley to her flat, and the entire time, Rabbit was grateful for warming charms. Cold pizza was only good for breakfast or midnight snacks. He had to do some artistic maneuvering before he could knock on the door, and the pizza box ended up jammed firmly between the door frame and his hip, a bottle of soda between his legs, and the movie in between his teeth.

Rabbit was the king of great first impressions.

( Owl to Seren Fawcett )

( Owl to Jaden Dorny )

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Katie Jones
What: Shenanigans.
Where: Katie's father's pawn shop, Hackney
When: Sunday afternoon, after football before dinner with Tonks.
Rating: TBD

He hadn’t been a very good serial killer stalker, that’s what Rabbit had told Katie last week. But more than that, he had meant that he had been a shit friend. Not that he thought she considered him a friend, but he had enough reason in his mind to consider her one, and that meant something. But whatever level of ‘shitty’ he had been then was multiplied tenfold when he didn’t stop by immediately after she had told him that something was up. Even with his own problems to deal with, ones that mostly revolved around his family at the moment, he knew there was no excuse for not asking. Which was what brought him to the pawn shop her father own.

And that had been a pain in the ass to find. But no matter.

Rabbit circled the perimeter once before stopping at a glass case with watches, a plain gold one catching his eye. “How much?” he asked in greeting, looking up with a half-crooked smile.

Who: Everrett Mac and Rabbit Tuor
Where: The breakroom, Department of Mysteries
When: Tuesday 22, around 4pm
What: Team Unspeakablez. Everrett doing his usual shy thing and avoiding the days-old yogurt in the fridge.
Rating: PG
Status: Open; incomplete

Everrett's only source of refuge was the breakroom, and even that had been spoiled for him by Pritchard. Not that he didn't like Pritchard - but the other man's questions a few days ago had shaken him, made him realise the errors of his ways and the true limitations of the boundaries he'd been set. He was in training, he kept having to tell himself. Fred was nothing to do with him - it wasn't his fault she was here, and he had no hand in what they were doing to her.

Asking to get her out? That was out of the question. No one would listen to him.

And so he carried on as he would have carried on in Regulation, working steadily under Seren's gaze and not allowing that little glimmer of conscious to slip through. It was all he could do to stay sane.

Well, as sane as one could be on four hours sleep a night.

Sighing softly, he sat on one of the couches with his feet propped up on the edge of the coffee table, laces of his yellow trainers loose and swinging every time he shook his ankles nervously.

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Nicolas Vaisey
What: Lunch! Rabbit is bald, Nicolas is dating. The two have much to discuss. Kinda.
Where: The courtyard, Ministry of Magic
When: Tuesday, 22 July
Rating: TBA
Status: Closed; incomplete

“Oi!” Rabbit called out, spotting a man that looked more like himself than he did in the distance. Except better dressed, of course, since Atticus actually had to look presentable at work. “I think not,” he added loudly, gesturing to his own head. His brother yelled out something that wasn’t quite audible before taking the bandana off his head, flipping off Rabbit only to wave cheerfully at him a second later. Both gestures were returned.

“It’s gonna rain,” he said vaguely, pointing up at the sky as he sat down next to Nicolas by their tree, his mouth muffling the words as he buried his teeth into an apple halfway through the sentence. “They fixed the charms here though, right? No more leaks?” Last time he had sat outside during the rain, he had still gotten soaked despite the weather-barrier. It wasn’t pleasant, considering that he had gone to work in the freezer-room shortly after.

Who: Fred Holden, Rabbit Tuor
What: Witnessing the new specimen, snarling
Where: The room with Fred's glass cage, Space Division, DoM
When: Mid to late morning, Tuesday, 22 July
Rating: PG-13 tentatively
Status: Open;complete

They were feeding her twice a day but the only thing Fred would touch was the meat, and even then only after a thorough examination of it. It barely passed for meat and it was cooked, horror that was, but it was better than starving completely just yet. If she could find a weak link and use it Fred would escape. If not, well she'd already been caught trying to dig her femoral artery out of her thigh a couple times during her residence. Her nails had been cut so short the tip of her finger came out farther than the nail itself. They'd done it while she was unconscious. It had taken until Monday for them to get really smart and start gassing her to knock her out before doing whatever it was they were doing to her. Fred always woke up sore but healed from whatever it was they'd been doing.

She slept excessively. There was little else to do with the increased silver presence lining the glass walls that contained her. Fred had burns on her hands and along her forearms from having tried to break the glass despite the presence of the silver. It had managed to criss cross down her right side like an X pattern drawn by a drunken child. The sleep helped to make up some for the lack of protein. It was likely only for that reason that Fred still wasn't cold enough to bother wearing the jumpsuit. She was cold, chilled to the touch, but until she started shivering she refused to give them the pleasure of her playing human enough to wear clothes. In all honesty, her temperature was barely below that of a human's. Fred's body temperature, however, ran nearly ten degrees higher than a human's did naturally.

From where she was laying curled up into a ball on the mattress in the middle of the floor Fred spotted movement. She lazily lifted her head to verify if it was someone passing through or someone coming to stare at the catgirl. Maybe they'd even come to poke her a bit. Prod. Something had happened over the weekend, they weren't cutting her up or subjecting her to electrotherapy anymore. At least, if they were she was unconscious during it.

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Jaden Dorny. Cameo by Buttercup Tuor.
What: Maps.
Where: Rabbit’s flat, Liverpool.
When: Sunday, 20 July
Rating: TBA
Status: Closed; incomplete

“Oh bloody fucking hell, Bit! Gag me, why don’t you.”

Rabbit laughed, smirking against Jaden’s mouth, purposely not pulling away after Buttercup’s outcry. As if he hadn’t picked her up two nights ago, drunk and half-naked, after storming into a bar and punching some asshole pervert hard enough to leave him with a bruised hand.

Stepping back, only for Jaden’s benefit, he turned to his sister and said, quite pointedly and sounding more like her dad than was healthy, “You’re going to be late for work. Did you grab the lunch I made for you?”

“Aye,” she muttered, holding up a brown paper bag pointedly before coming over to the pair and clearing her throat loudly.

“Buttercup, this is Jaden , the guy I was telling you about. Jaden, my baby sister, Buttercup.”

“Y’know I didn’t mean it about needing a gag, right?” She offered as an introduction, holding out her hand before turning to her brother and adding, without a hint of shame, “Fuck, he’s cute.”

“Watch the language.”

( Owl package to Jaden Dorny )

Who: Jaden Dorny and Rabbit Tuor
Where: The Isle of Skye, Scotland
When: Saturday 19 July, late afternoon-late night
What: Hill-climbing. Beach walking. Whisky drinking. Lots of questions. Apple cigarettes.
Rating: R; non-descriptive sex and bad language
Status: Closed; complete; part one

The difference in temperature between Jaden and Rabbit's last date and this one was considerably high; the wind was sharper, fresher, and while the sun was bright, it did not radiate any warmth except when it chose to shine directly in their faces.

( I am a cheesy, grizzly loser, and I’m proud to admit that )

( Owl package to Tonks )

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Morag MacDougal
What: Two-man coming-out party. There will be sushi.
Where: Roka, a Japanese restaurant in London.
When: July 17, evening
Rating: NC-17, hide the children.
Status: Closed; Incomplete

Rabbit wasn’t kidding when he had told Morag that he was proud of her, and his pride was conveyed in the bounce of his step and the smile on his face when he knocked on her door. He knew for a fact that she had an issue with homosexuality, that she had more than her share of difficulty when it came to accepting that about herself, and that hiding away had likely made her miserable. It explained a lot about her attitude, why she was so tense all the time, and why she kept at such a distance from most people. But despite her frigidity (the department called her ‘the Ice-Queen’ often enough beyond her back, something which Rabbit yelled at them all for), he had always liked Morag. Moe.

He waited patiently - or as patient as Rabbit could be without being dead, only a handful of foot shuffles here and there. In one hand was a bouquet of flowers which he had spent a half hour fussing over before settling on the arrangement. He was, sadly, not in a dress - party or otherwise.

( Owl package to Jaden Dorny )