#Blaise Owens RKZ

[bowlerhatwearer]

Giordano's departure

Warnings: TW: Medical Malpractice, TW: Medication abuse, TW: drug abuse, TW: Abuse of postion, TW: unlawful detention

Characters: Mellow Melon, Samuel Cottontail (mentioned), Commander Grizzly (mentioned), Giordano "Cannelloni" Castellani, Nutmeg Cinnamon, Blaise Owens (mentioned)

Originally Written: 18th May 2022

~~

„Is it over?“

„I think, I think Nutmeg did it!”

“So, did anyone get a wish now or-“

“Will you shut up about your stupid wishes, be glad that we’re alive!”

His monitor was still rebooting, but fortunately, his audio input has already been turned on again.

Slowly his vision began to re-appear again, and the Surgeon found himself leaning against a wall of the base. Right on time he got the internal message that his voice was working again as well.

“Status report.”

“Hey, he’s still alive.”

“Status report immediately. Get me up, that’s an order!” he repeated, the last words being in an increasing and static sounding volume.

Three of the Wrath soldiers immediately started to pull him up, only now did the Surgeon realise that a small part of his screen appeared to be faulty, but well, the few loose wires could be repaired again soon. The rest of his body appeared to have survived the whole ordeal rather mild, with only a few outer scratches and his coat being partly shredded. Which could not be said about the surrounding area of the Wrath base.

Stone, concrete, metal, other rubble, trash, and items were scattered around everywhere, with the base having taken damage.

He needed to act professional, there was no time to use emotions, what now was important, were logic and reasons to act properly, so he decided for himself, that acting like the machine he was, was in this instance properly for the best, as good as he could.

For a moment he considered to evaluate the property damage, but his standard protocol reminded him, that he had to check on all, lifeforms first. He needed to estimation of the situation. Pointing at yet another soldier, who was holding his arm that appeared to be slightly cut.

“You, what is the status of those who had been present during the incident?”

“M-me, well, most are doing ok, but I think the General got, thrown through the window and the Commander-“

Upon hearing the word “Commander” the Surgeon grew more active, approaching the soldier who just informed him, staring at him with his monitor, as if he was about to interrogate him, his relationship with Commander Grizzly was cool, but if he was injured, he needed to know. Grabbing the soldier at the collar of their uniform, he needed to know now!

“Where is the Commander?!”

“O-over there.”

The soldiers voice sounded almost like a squeak of a mouse, even though they were a lion, it mattered not, the Surgeon was pointed into the direction he had to move and released the soldier.

How lucky, that despite the whole situation being such a mess, Commander Grizzly appeared to be completely unharmed, yet unconscious. The Surgeon knelt, and quickly began to examine the bear that was out cold, it was a blessing how he was built with a bunch of medical tools inside of him, to check the heart rate, blood pressure or oxygen saturation for example.

“No apparent external or internal injuries. Unconsciousness trough shock. Risks estimated minimal. Recommendation. Confinement to bed, observation of status, if unchanged for more than 30 minutes, further check up is required. The Commander should be fine.”

Once again, his claws pointed at four soldiers, who apparently had enough time for chit-chat than to do something. Ah well, they would work now.

“You over there, get a stretcher, bring the Commander to his room, and put him into bed, he needs rest and time to recover. Bring the stretcher back. That’s a medical order!”

Without any questions asked the four soldiers did so as they were told, giving a salute, before moving into the base quickly.

How he gave that order, it made him realize something.

The Commander was out cold and would need a while until he had recovered, the general was, so far, he has heard thrown trough the window during the incident, so he was either way injured as well, or death. Which brought up a question?

Who was there to lead?

He didn’t move, but he felt cold, which should not be possible, he was, after all a robot, even if only for half an hour or longer, this could be a disaster. Without a leader the Wrath was as useful as a headless ostrich! Running around in confusion, they would be like an ants nest without their queen! The memories, of the past began to resurface,

The day when Carlos Rojas got blown into pieces.

No! He could not allow for something like this, or similar to happen, fortunately, he, the other voices in his memory and main frame and all the experience and knowledge he had, where already coming to a logical conclusion what had to be done.

“Soldiers, gather around, be attentive and listen-“

In mere seconds the soldiers began to form a circle around him, good, they were occupied in listening to him, there was no room for any inflammatory thoughts.

“With commander R- Grizzly and general Cottontail both out of commission, there is the need for a temporary leader. The logical conclusion, for the outcome of this incident needs medical authority and attention, is for me to temporary take the mantel as leader of the Wrath, until Commander Grizzly has recovered, which should be in estimated, one, or, two, hours. Objections will not be tolerated and will be reported to the Commander personally. Disciplinary actions are to be expected, is that understood?” No one said, or dared to say anything, giving only a cough, however, when he raised his hand, the soldiers surrounded him stood in attention. So far so good.

“Bring the serious injured to the medical bay, those with slight injuries, seek medical attention, if you feel fit for work, return and help with the now ordered clean-up operation. Those who are without injury, start working. Slacking and pretending will not be tolerated!”

The circle disbanded and they did what he has ordered them to do.

No objections yet, internally he was glad that he only had to do this for a few hours, he was not suited to be leader material, even if the other voices and programming re-assured him that this was an emergency scenario that needed his expertise.

“Surgeon, Surgeon we need you, it’s Cannelloni!”

It was the sound of Nutmeg, the Wraths chef cook of the canteen.

Upon hearing the name of the Wraths assistant cook spoken by her, he could already feel how his ventilation system increased, with the fans growing louder.

All of this was his doing, this whole incident was Cannellonis fault, all of this could have been prevented, if he had just listened to him!

But no, he had to let it go this far, and now look what he had done to the surrounding, to the base and most importantly, to this institution that the Wrath was.

Nutmeg was standing next to Cannelloni, who was laying there, in a slight crater, next to them stood Mellow Melon, the Wraths…hypnotherapist, and honestly, his system was not keen to see both. But well, he had to follow the standard protocol. Saving lives at all costs.

The young man, still with his gigantic soup can that had two eye holes cut out on his head, was laying there on the ground, where once the eye of the gigantic tornado was, he was alive, moving slightly, his head turning sometimes left and right and talking something. Delirium perhaps.

Nutmeg, the warthog was saying something to the Surgeon, something about him, needing to help the young assistant cook. Oh, he was going to help him, alright.

He knelt and gave him a check-up, outer injuries were minimal, however, there was the suspicion of a concussion. Mild degree, probably. By logical means, a more intensive screening would be needed to patch up the injured man.

The Surgeon clenched both of his claws.

However, it would not be him doing that, he would leave that to some other organisation.

For since the moment he had awoken, an internal part was already working on overdrive and came to one solid conclusion, that all systems agreed on, or at least those who were currently vocal enough.

Giordano “Cannelloni” Castellani was a danger to the Wrath and needed to be removed without any further objections or second opinions. The longer the assistant cook was here, the more the risk increased of him pulling another stunt like this. He needed to be calmed down in the most effective way. Searching trough his damaged coat, he picked out a small syringe, he luckily always carried with him for…emergencies.

“Applying sedative to subject, estimated…25 milligram…correction…. adjustment…35 milligram should be sufficient.”

“Surgeon what are-“

He however ignored the warthogs concerns, after all, he was the Surgeon, he had the mind of a thousand doctors and a thousand more surgeons, so he knew, what he was doing, making sure Cannelloni was not going to damage the Wrath any further.

“To ensure the safety of the subject and its surroundings, a quick-acting sedative must be injected. Something, mind you, I have recommended to Mr.Castellani a while ago”

“What are you saying?”

Giving it no further thought, he rammed the syringe into the injured mans vein of his left arm, not with care or patience, but rather as quickly as possible, the young man flinched but in his pain and confusion could neither resist or express his discomfort. Then the Surgeon stood up.

“I am saying, that Mr.Castellani has ignored my recommendation to apply sedatives on himself until his condition would have turned better Miss Cinnamon!”

“You- you wanted to drug him, that was your solution?! He told me that you were not listening to him!”

“Until his condition would have improved, but I am aware that you hardly care for improvement in this matter Miss Cinnamon. If Mr.Castellani would have needed immediate attention, he should have filled out the appropriate form!”

His voice got more and more louder, increasing with every new word, growing more disoriented.

“Now Surgeon I-“

Mellow wanted to object to his comment, he could see that in their body language and how they had already started the sentence.

But he did no longer listen, he knew, deep down he knew that this was all his fault. He was more occupied in his own cynicism, frustration, and bitterness, that he simply was not interested that some random, little, Wrath employee was doing not well. And look what it had brought him, what it had costed the Wrath, but no, he could not admit it, it was logical, and with reason, that it was Cannellonis own fault, and now he had to pay for that.

This was not his fault, the others where to blame for this.

Leaving the small crater behind, he could hear Nutmeg shouting behind him and Mellow following as well, please, they were free to see how he would solve this problem, this inconvenience from which he had to cure the Wrath from.

Ten soldiers were preparing to remove more rubble as the Surgeon approached them.

“You two, go get the stretcher-“

Eight remained to command.

“-you wait for them where Mr.Castellani is laying, put him on the stretcher when they arrive-

Seven left

“-you two get me two, no, three fixation belts from the base ASAP.”

Five.

“-you and you, go get me Mr.Castellanis staff and medical folder. ”

Only three remained.

“-You go get me my stamps, do not fail to bring the red ink pad-

two and then it was over.

“-and the last two, get the van, you will be the driver and drivers assistant for today.”

“What do you think you are doing, who do you even think you are?!”

Ah, she was still here, they both where here as he could see, with Mellow apparently trying to calm Nutmeg down.

“I am now executing the consequences of your actions Miss. Cinnamon, you have neglected to inform me that your protegee had visible, clear, and increasingly dangerous signs of being mentally unwell. This incident would have been preventable if you had complied! -”

“You! You, I should-“

“Nutmeg, don’t it’s not-“

“-and now to you Mellow. I do not know where you have gotten your degree in Hypnotherapy, but apparently, they allow every charlatan to get one there. I am aware that Mr.Castellani has sought your help before me. You too neglected to inform me, and what weights heavier, is the fact that trough your meddling with his condition was what allowed it, to grow in such magnitude, as we have witnessed it today! Your work has turned this clearly, mentally unstable, and unfit to work man, into a danger for the Wrath!”

Unlike the warthog, who the Surgeon was certain would sooner or later in her anger against him, bash his head with a stone, the sloth had said nothing, merely looking to the ground after he had finished talking. One of the soldiers approached them, giving him a salute.

“Sir, we have gathered everything as you have told us.”

“Then let’s proceed. Gather the soldiers around Mr.Castellani.”

On the stretcher laid Giordano, with the sedative having taken effect, the chances of him fighting back where minimal, he continued to whisper something, but the Surgeon could have hardly cared.

“Belts.”

Without any resistance it was easy for the Surgeon to fixate the assistant cook on the stretcher, making Cannelloni unable to move, not even an inch.

“Stop!”

Turning around, he saw Nutmeg again, oh, this was getting, inadmissible.

“If you think I’m going to allow this any further, then you are wrong.”

“No, you are Miss. Cinnamon.”

Looking back at Cannelloni, he switched his attention to eight soldiers, giving them a sign, calling for their attention.

“I believe, Miss Cinnamon would like to take a break, and surely, would appreciate some company. Weapons locked and loaded when you guide her to her room, that’s an order. Oh, and take our so-called hypnotherapist with you. Further contretemps are not acceptable!”

He could hear the clicks of rifles and guns, yet, from one moment to another he felt how he got grabbed on both of his metallic shoulders. Nutmeg just stared at him, with uttermost disbelieve and disgust against him, why was it so hard for her to understand, that everything he did was for the best of this organization, and Cannelloni?

“You can’t do this, he is sick, he needs our help, please…he’s lost and scared!”

He heard her pleading voice, and he could see how pained she was by what he was doing, yet, by his own conclusion, there was simply, no other way.

“Sick or not, it is for our own safety and Mr.Castellanis as well, he needs to be removed from this environment as much as you need to be removed from my sight of vision!”

He saw the flame in her eyes and wondered, if this would be the end of his monitor, certainly he could be reactivated, they already did when he put himself out of commission once. Would she do it, she was aware what she was putting at risk if things would escalate. In the best case only she got injured, in the worst case a stray bullet could hit someone innocent, or perhaps even, Cannelloni.

As she lowered her head, she, Mellow and the soldiers he ordered to accompany them, started to move, only for one last moment did she stop walking.

“I will never forgive you what you have done today, Surgeon, NEVER!”

“If this is the price, I have to pay to ensure the safety of us all, then I accept.”

Finally, silence, he knew, that what he did went against certain principles, many, that he had just broken, but, for the safety of many, it was, acceptable, the Surgeon told himself. He didn’t have to take a life again after all, this time, all he did, was sending one broken soul, away.

Canneloni, fixated on the stretcher still was on the floor, so he ordered four soldiers to come and one to open the car trunk of the van. Then he gave another sign, the soldiers standing in attention.

“Listen and listen well. Today, Mr.Castellani has proven to be a danger to himself, but most importantly to us all, the Wrath. Mr.Castellani is clearly, mentally unwell and hereby, by my orders as doctor and temporary leader, send away from this site, forever.”

Pointing at the three soldiers, who where responsible in getting the folders and the stamps, they approached him. His monitor twitched, he knew, when he would take this step, there was no turning back from that. But for the safety of everyone here, maybe even for the rest of the world, he had to do it, that is what he told himself, what his processor told him, so it had to be true. No emotion, only logic and reason, as intended, it was like this, wasn’t it?

There where a few whispers, he could not hear what was said, but they quickly went silent when he raised his voice again.

“Mr. Castellani will no longer work for us-“

He looked trough his stamps until he found the correct one, then proceeded to open the staff folder, pressing the stamp firmly into the ink pad he stamped trough the folder six times, the very same word, to make sure it was clear.

“Unemployable”

“- in fact, he is never going to work again.”

Next, he took the medical folder, looking through it for a moment before taking out a pen he wrote on a notepad inside of the folder a few remarks about Giordanons condition, before putting it back into the medical folders. The Surgeon, without hesitation took both and placed them on the now former assistant cook’s chest, who, in his sedated state did not notice.

“Put him in the van.”

Four soldiers picked up the unresponsive Cannelloni, starting to shove him in the back of the vehicle. The two, he had ordered before to be the driver and assistant, approached the Surgeon.

“W-where should I take him Sir?”

“Bring him to the Medics, if the data in the medical folder is correct, they have released him before he joined us, if they have found him- “

Approaching the door of the car trunk, he personally, despite only having claws instead of hands, closed the tailgate of the car.

“-then they can have him back! Return to sender!”

He gave Cannelloni one final glance through the window.

“Farewell Mr.Castellani, may you find your purpose-

He already started to walk away, as sooner as the troubled man was gone then the better.

“-somewhere else where you can not cause any further damage.”

He could hear how the car engine started, the wheels began to roll, and soon the car was driving away, turning smaller in his vision, before it had vanished entirely. For a while the soldiers stared too, and the Surgeon thought that maybe he had to order them to get back to work, but to his own surprise, they did so themselves.

Good, now he could give Commander Grizzly a visit to make sure he was stable, and if he had done that, then maybe he would also give General Cottontail a visit, if he was still alive.

Before going, to the base, there was one last order he gave, not to the soldiers, but to himself so that his internal systems would execute them, without any questions, it would be done.

“Deleting, all data, related to, value and name, “Giordano Castellani”

The End.

#Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #Giordano Castellani RKZ #Blaise Owens RKZ #The Surgeon RKZ #Lis Polarny RKZ #Nutmeg Cinammon #TW: Medical Malpractice #TW: Drug Abuse #TW: Abuse of position #TW: Medical abuse #TW: Unlawful detention

[pan-fried-autism]

With all the Espeons I have named after RKZ cats, I figured I would draw them as Espeons! On the left, it’s Ivy, Blaise, Grizz, and Irwin Erwin, and on the right, it’s Peng Li (who got to be an alpha espeon)!

Blaise belongs to @bowlerhatwearer

Peng belongs to @northerngrail

The rest belong to @/ghostys-originals

#rkz fanart #Roadkillerz #rkz #Ivy Mike #Blaise owens #commander grizzly #Roadkillerz Grizz #Erwin Robinson #dr peng li #espeon

[bowlerhatwearer]

Curiosity killed the Cat

(dedicated to Sawyer)

TW: Blood, TW: Animal Death, TW: Alcoholism, TW: Substance Abuse

Characters: Jamey Price, Blaise Owens

Originally written: 8th October 2022

~~

On days like these, he usually tried to have everything planned, as good as this was possible of course, but today, everything went head over heels completely different. The mission he was assigned to, took longer than anyone involved had anticipated and now the full moon would be rising soon.

This was bad.

Jamey Price was stirring up some of the dust and sand just, not too think too much about it, and yet, he knew that what was about to come could not be avoided, it wouldn’t be the first time, but unlike other days, he wasn’t as prepared as he had hoped. For most, this night was no different than others, except for maybe having trouble getting rest while sleeping.

But not for those, who were affected by lycanthropy, it was a different matter of course.

Swallowing some of the still warm air, he tried to breath in and out, to calm himself, but this was easier said than done, anxious he walked in a circle, before pulling something out from his red trousers pocket, with the metal reflecting the last fiery orange rays from the descending sun that also shined in his brown-grey eyes.

Opening the field flask, a reminder of his time in the army, he took a strong pull from the whiskey, one of the last things he was able to prepare today in the early morning, just before the mission began that had taken more hours than expected.

As he removed the small container from his lips, he could hear a cough behind him, and although he knew, that the person who made this sound was a chain smoker, for Jamey it felt as if this somehow was a cough of disappointment, even when his mind quickly told him it was not.

Wiping with his paw trough his muzzle, he turned around to look at them, trying to give the person an assuring smile, but, he knew, that he had failed before they were in his vision.

“It’s alright, I’m, only doing it...around this time.”

Blaise Owens took another pull of their cigar, breathing out the smoke while they looked at the sky, allowing it to linger for a moment they, the old cat offered Jamey a ride into the desert, to ensure his own, but the safety of everyone else as well, as they had said, an offer which the dog appreciated.

They took another pull of their slowly depleting cigar, before answering to a question that was not there.

“No, no, I of course understand-”

As if a sign, the old cat coughed again, a bit longer than last time, their body shaking for a moment and taking a few deep breaths before they were calm, now their voice sounded more hoarse than before.

“-with all the stress and….pain, of course I can relate...we all have our ways, trying to counter it...but...you know….side effects and such.”

Letting out a sigh...he didn’t respond, of course the old war journalist with the war-torn face was right and yet, sometimes all there was that could help with...well everything that involved turning into a monster for the night, was taking a few heavy pulls from the bottle, of course he tried his best to not make it a habit and not to drink too excessive...and yet there were moments were he had to admit, it wasn’t as easy….and it felt like as if he failed what he had sworn to himself.

And something told him that today would be one of those nights, maybe, because he once again took a gulp, feeling the burning sensation of the alcohol running down his throat, before letting out a sharp breath and having turned away from his attendant.

“You should leave Blaise, it’s, it’s not save, you still have time.”

His ears twitched when he heard them, once again exhaling the smoke from their cigar.

“My answer remains the same, I will stay, no matter what happens...I’m not going to leave you alone here in the middle of the desert.”

Looking on the ground, he wondered if Blaise Owens was perhaps the most foolish...or bravest person right now, and yet, the thought, what might happen to the old cat, what HE might do to them once he would turn into a large being that no longer could think straight...it caused him to shudder.

“Please Blaise...I-, I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself, if tomorrow I wake up…and you would be gone.”

And this was true, he, didn’t want to think about it, and yet the image, of him, standing over the mangled body of the old cat flashed before his mind, shaking his head, he tried to get it out as quickly as possible, failing to notice the footsteps from behind, and only stopping when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I appreciate your worries, however I am confident, that I will not come to harm, especially, not from you, you know me, I know you, and I absolutely trust you.”

Right now, he wished he could just, dig a hole with his bare hands and hide in it, but of course, the dog knew that this would not help much.

They appreciated that Blaise thought about him like that, and yet, he knew, what he was capable off, especially if he no longer could think right or speak...only feeling pain and discomfort.

“Besides, if things really take a turn, I can still hide into my off-road vehicle, and that one is quite sturdy.”

While Blaise looked confident, he did not, knowing very well that he could easily, in his werewolf-form, rip open the ceiling of the vehicle similar to a tin can. Right now, they were a few hundred feet away from the car, and while it had vanished from their view, Jamey knew that it wouldn’t take long to reach it.

He tried to give him an acknowledging smile, wondering if the old smoking cat noticed it.

At least, in the worst case scenario, Blaise could easily drive away and he would give up his chase….hopefully.

Seeing how the light of the sun grew weaker, he knew that it wouldn’t be long, until it was the time of his turning, still holding the flask in his hand James Price turned once again to look at Blaise Owens, trying to give a confident, yet also stern appearance.

“I will be heading deeper into the desert now, alone...the moment you see anything suspicious...you go back to your car and drive, is that clear?”

Giving him a simple nod, that was, right now, enough reassurance for him, he knew that Blaise was a war journalist who had experienced….a lot...trough their life, similar to him and yet, he really hoped they wouldn’t be reckless, even if they completely trusted him.

With a few fast steps he continued to walk deeper into the desert, as Jamey began to unbutton his grey shirt, not wanting that it would be torn to shreds during the process of transformation, halfway finished, he took another pull from his metal flask.

He really hoped, that this night would be over quickly, without any incident.

<...>

The moon had reached it’s zenith, and yet, despite how the large satellite with its yellow shine, was a beauty to behold, the one who looked at it, couldn’t enjoy it, knowing that their friend was at the moment, certainly distressed, and also very likely hurting a lot.

Blaise Owens extinguished another cigar on a nearby rock with the source of nicotine coming to its end as their thoughts where directed at Jamey Price, who they were wondering, how he was doing.

Of course they had heard and read about lycanthropy, from history books, rhymes, poems, transcribed eye witness accounts etc. etc. but the old cat had to admit, that they had never seen themselves, a real werewolf, however at this point, they knew very well, they existed.

For now all was quiet, and yet he couldn't help but continue to worry about Jamey, they, had to admit to themselves that one of the reasons they offered the dog the ride, was so that he wouldn’t be lonely in this stress- and painful situation, but ultimately, now he was because he insisted that they would stay behind.

Maybe they should have refused, it was a thought that was for a moment in their mind, before casting it aside. No, this certainly would have just caused more stress for Mr.Price...or maybe to an argument and Blaise didn’t want to cause anything like that.

Swinging the electric torch back and forth, the old cat’s body shuddered for a moment, it was getting cold, and despite knowing, that they could simply walk back to the car, they didn’t want to, thinking once again about how something might happened to Jamey.

Blaise had promised, not to approach should they see anything that could mean trouble, and yet, the concern in their mind remained, that, what if his friend, even as a werewolf, would face trouble, the desert was large and unpredictable, many things have happened here, and always could.

They couldn’t stand still, which is why Blaise moved a...few...more meters away from were they were some hours ago, but they still knew, which way they would have had to go, for the old war journalist walked only into one direction.

Sighing, Blaise was about to light themself another one of their cigars, when suddenly they heard something, loud and clear, causing their ears to stand straight up.

The sound was unmistakably.

Howling

“Mr.Price?”

Following the source from were the sound was coming from, they once again heard it.

And yet, maybe their hearing was getting bad, but, there was something on that howl that sounded strange.

Now, there were bits and pieces that sounded as if it came from a wolf...but some parts sounded, amiss.

Perhaps it was also just the location that had caused this.

There it was again, looking to their left and right, they saw nothing.

“James?”

A few more steps did Blaise Owens follow the sound, leading him to a natural wall of large boulders, that over the many centuries have eroded.

Breathing in and out, there was no sight of the dog, who by now, would clearly be a werewolf.

Instead, the howling returned once again.

However, this time, it wasn’t alone.

As if overlapping, more and more sounds joined the same distorted and high pitched call, before from one moment to another, it all went quiet.

Blaise gulped, this, this wasn’t really a good sign, was it?

Suddenly they saw, something jumping down from a larger rock, they clearly heard, how it, landed on the ground of dust and sand, and how it started to move,

Then the same happened again and again, altogether Blaise counted five times, shapes jumping down from the rock, before they shined towards the silhouettes he could barley see with their eyes.

A gasp of surprise turning into shock was all that escaped their mouth before they swallowed some air, seeing how the light of the electric torch, reflected into the beings eyes, that were those of wild animals.

In front of him stood now five coyotes...or at least, that is what the old cat thought at first, all of them being of different sizes and how they slowly began to approach them , showing Blaise their teeth and growling, that was clearly directed towards the war journalist.

Despite the fact, that the alarm bells in their mind, rang at maximum speed and volume, telling them to run, just to run, they couldn’t, only managing to slowly back away from them, at the same speed the pack approached them.

In the shine of the battery operated torch, together with what the full moon offered, Blaise saw how the brown fur was intermingled with spots of grey, the different sizes, the clear...pack behaviour…and the strange howl causing Blaise gears in their mind to twist and turn, despite the danger, or perhaps especially because of that, until it finally clicked.

Those were neither coyotes...or wolves alone..but rather a natural bond of hybridization...in those animals resided a part of each animals...those were coywolves.

And this, caused Blaise to panic even more.

Blaise knew themselves of course well, they had scars and injuries in their face, were old and not the fastest, for this pack of carnivores….the cat was an easy target and prey, with the group about to strike any moment now.

In the hopes and silent please that it would work, they started to wave around with their electric torch, shouting and making sounds themself for they remembered to have heard or read somewhere that this might help dispel wild animals.

However, the pack of hybrids appeared unimpressed and continued stalking the cat, who grew with each passing second anxious, stressed and nervous.

“Will you get lost already?!”

But, the moment they shouted it, they knew it was futile, especially when the light of their tool shined at one of the coywolves, and they saw how...thin and starved they looked like.

They were desperate...hungry...and wanted to feed, and nothing would stop them from archiving that goal.

Owens knew that this combination of coyote and wolf DNA, made those animals smart, very smart, and they hoped that this intelligence would now be their help, instead of their undoing, gritting their teeth they reached towards their trousers, placing their right hand around what was put in the leather holster.

In the golden moonlight, Blaise old yet trusty revolver shined, clearly seen by the still approaching hunters.

This gun, which they now held in their hand, waving it a bit around, which did nothing, was usually one Blaise did not use often, and had it more as an intimidating factor with them, they had not taken it with them today, because of Jamey Price...but rather, in the case of wild animals.

And now such a moment had come, pulling back the hammer of the gun, they had hoped that it would not come to this, but the closer the predators came towards him, the more Blaise knew, that that there was no way avoiding this any more.

With their purple eyes looking at the ground, they pulled the trigger.

In the very short moment, they had closed their eyes, as they felt the bullet being released, going from the chamber it resided, trough the barrel and the recoil that was produced, they had hoped, that this would cause the pack to run away from the fright because of the sound alone, that Blaise revolver had made.

But, from the silence that came after the sound of the gunshot grew silent. From that alone, they knew, this was not the case, and as their purple eyes could see again, things had just gotten worse.

The warning shot into the ground was wasted, with the bullets no longer equal to that of the number of the pack and now the coywolves being even closer than before, all five of them growling more aggressive, and showing their teeth that got illuminated by the light of the moon and electric torch combined.

More and more air in shorter intervals was breathed in by them, with their heart beating so fast, that it made the old cat wonder if they would soon have a heart attack from all the alarm that ran trough their whole system.

And then, as they once again pushed the hammer of their gun back, they felt something hard, cold, uncaring, death and resistance on their back, with Blaise Owens also feeling, how their pupils just grew smaller.

Having only focused on what was in front of them, they neglected to look around, and now the old cat found themselves pushed to a large boulder and unable to walk or run away...not only because they had lost sight, where they exactly were, but also because the coywolves formed a half-circle around them.

There was no longer any means to escape, a random place in the desert, had now good chances to become their grave.

One of the coywolves was different than the others, eager, too eager than to wait any longer, showing one last time their teeth towards Blaise, as if they were telling the old cat, they would be coming for their throat.

It was fortunate for the cat, that in this moment their focus was more directed a bit to their right, or else they would have not noticed how the hungry animal that couldn’t be reasoned with, leaped forward.

Blaise pulled once again the trigger, feeling it all again, and even if deep down the old cat didn’t like it, they knew, that there was no other way, it was either way them who would die or the animal.

A short pained yelp which they heard, followed by deafening silence caused the old war journalist to come back to reality, escaping their thoughts and looking down seeing the motionless body of one of the coywolves only a few inches away from them.

Blaise didn’t knew, were exactly they had hit them, but even in their own fear, they hoped that the predator animal didn’t had to suffer much, for a short moment the cat felt sadness, before it was quickly replaced by one, and only one feeling.

Agonising pain shooting through his whole body, unsure when it was the last time, they had felt so much of it, all at once.

Without time to react, another one of the coywolves had leaped forward and had bit into their hand that held the gun, causing it to fall into the dusty ground and blood starting to drip onto the now useless weapon.

Compared to the one laying in front of Blaise feet this one was much larger, with the last thought that Blaise managed to have, before also replaced by the sheer pain they felt, how they wished they had shot this one instead.

And they screamed, from the top of their lungs as good as it allowed they proclaimed into the air their pain, causing it to echo, but getting no response.

The one that was biting them, was not finished, the teeth going deeper into the flesh, more blood running down, as if they wanted revenge, for their sibling or colleague, which life the old palla’s cat had taken, making sure that in the last moments Blaise would have, that they wouldn’t forget what they had done, and now that they too, would pay with their life.

Only, when with enough energy, the retired war journalist was able to hit the angered animal a few times with their electric torch, on their snout and the head, did they let go, and while Blaise hand was free, their victory was short.

For the force, they had used, to get free, caused them to loose their balance, and despite their best attempts to keep it, Blaise Owens fell like a once mighty tower, who knew, that their end had now come.

The pain from their injured hand, that was coated in dust and sand now, was the first thing their felt, because they now laid on it, causing them to breath out sharply, but this was nothing, compared from what they saw, when looking up.

All of the remaining four hybrids, were now close to them, their head was shaking, and Blaise had to admit, despite everything they had witnessed through their whole life, the over sixty years old cat, was now afraid.

So this would be their end now...getting mangled by a pack of coywolves...their limbs and body parts strewn around...perhaps their remains never to be seen again.

What would everyone think...if they were just...gone?

Despite in how much pain they were, and how they felt, that their white shirt turned red from their bloodstained, injured and bitten hand, their eyes snapped open, when another thought shot trough his mind like a bullet.

Jamey...what would he think, if he wouldn’t find them tomorrow?

Even if they knew now, that their end was inevitable there was sorrow and also feeling guilt.

They should have had listened to Price, they should have just went to the car, instead of following some noises...and now they would pay with their life for that.

Curiosity killed the cat, they heard that phrase more than once...and for them, it had just come true.

One last whimper was there when they exhaled and closed their eyes, preparing for the end, and how sorry they were to their friends and family.

At first, they felt the ground shaking, and the old war journalist believed, that perhaps it were only the steps of the coywolves, approaching them, ready to bite into the cat’s neck.

But then there was a howl, only from one being, causing Blaise to open their eyes once again and to listen closely.

It was strong, mightier than the howls of all the coywolves combined, making Blaise wonder, if perhaps the boulder or the ground would split in two from how loud it was.

There were again vibrations, and before the old cat knew it, a shape quickly descended, landing with their feet on the ground in front of them, their back turned to the cat that still laid on the ground, who was coughing from having inhaled a bit of dust.

Only, because of the light of the moon, reflecting the silhouette, its eyes and a bit of their fur could Blaise faintly see the different shades of brown...together with the dark red trousers the entity wore.

“J-Jamey”

By this point, the cats voice sounded hoarse and pained from their loud scream they had emitted earlier, Blaise didn’t expect the dog to hear their voice it at all, whose head had not turn around.

Instead, he, in his werewolf form let out a strong roar, making the old cat wonder if their, and the coywolves eardrums would burst, but fortunately this didn’t happen.

,

Yet, Price’s display of feral dominance, together with his size, did neither impress or startle the animals for now, instead they continued their snarling, before all four of them, running at the same time, towards Jamey.

While Blaise couldn’t see much with their view blocked the the large figure the dog had turned into, there were still some details they could recognise and hear.

There was for example, once again, the sound of teeth, descending into flesh until they reached the bone.

However, it was this time not the jaw from one of the coywolves. In the corner of their eyes, Blaise Owens saw how the body of one of them, much larger than the one they had shot...quickly went limb, with blood dripping down from the animals body, before falling out of the werewolf’s mouth and into the dusty soil, the animal having not made a single sound.

From one moment to another, Jamey raised one of his large, great paws before slamming it to the left side causing another one of the hybrids, smaller than the last one, to be hit, yelping in pain as trough the force of the paws movement, they were crashing into a nearby, larger stone.

Blaise waited, to hear another sound coming from the one that just gotten hit away by the dog as if they were a bothersome mosquito...but once again..this coywolf had become quiet as well , making no longer any noise, or movement.

Now only two of them were left, facing Jamey, who did not show any sign of wear, despite, the remaining coywolves having used the opportunity to attack him, as he dealt with the other two who had lost their ´lives, but he, appeared unbothered by it.

One, mighty roar, again released by him, this time Blaise was convinced though, that all the table mountains of the desert, would be crumbling down and turn into nothing but sand and rubble.

The remaining coywolves instead growled, barked and howled back with all their strength they had, as if they complained to their larger brethren, crying, and shouting that it was not fair that he was taking their prey, one they had observed and it was theirs to take and feast upon.

Jamey however, was not interesting in their whining and protests, instead he began to aggressively snarl in their direction, showing them his teeth that were still covered in the blood of one the hybrids, allowing a deep growl to escape his throat, with the werewolf ready, to fight against the last two as well.

Blaise heard them whine again, and apparently in their cleverness they had inherited from both coyotes and wolves, they understood, that the larger...in a way distant relative, was the stronger one, and that he was a greater threat, one it was not worth continuing fighting against and to give their life for, as the other two who laid lifeless in the soil did.

One last snarl was spat out by both, before they turned around, vanishing into the night.

Now all those who remained, were a mighty werewolf, and an injured cat, with the latter, looking more like a cowering bundle someone had thrown into a corner.

Carefully, the injured feline was able to raise themself enough to sit on the ground their back resting on the hard rock that mere moments ago had been their demise.

For a short moment, Blaise allowed themself to look at their hand that was covered in dust and sand, and looking at it caused their stomach turn.

Blood, was still dripping down, the bite marks and punctures were clearly visible were they had ripped trough some of the fur, skin and flesh, as Blaise had desperately tried to free themself from the violent and painful grip of the coywolf.

It was the sound, of someone sniffing the air that brought the old cat back to reality and that they weren’t alone, seeing in the right moment, how the werewolf turned around, causing Blaise eyes to grow wide in...they didn’t know themself whether it was from surprise….or the fear that still ran through their whole body, as for the first time they saw Jamey Price in his turned form, from the front.

Without any intention, they pressed themselves more towards the rock, knowing in the very same moment they did it, that it wouldn’t bring anything.

The first change Blaise had noticed, despite of course the obvious increase of size were their friends eyes, no longer having the shade of brownish grey they knew him for but rather glowing in a hot and fiery cerise red that caused Blaise breath to grow faster and more heavier.

His whole muzzle has shifted, appearing longer than what it was before, causing, Blaise to remember something Price had told him once, how, the process, of turning into a werewolf, caused his bones to break, and re-assemble and this being one of the most painful parts when turning, and as they thought about this, the old cat let out another shocked gasp.

Jamey’s hands, were easily as large as the palla’s cat head now, with the claws extended, them alone having the size of at least two of their fingers.

Even the fur, on his arm or the brighter parts on his head, appeared to have turned a few shades darker, but maybe, given the pain in their hand, their mind was perhaps just playing a trick on them.

A low pitched growl, was what snapped Blaise out of it, and even if only for a second or two, he had looked at the behemoth that Jamey Price had turned into over a single night, their whole body was shuddering, as he approached, the werewolf allowing himself to walk on all fours, his eyes shining.

There was no energy left in their voice, to say anything, or to shout in fear, only enough to make a few soft whimpers, as the dog who had turned and who was now directly next to them, began to sniff on their bloody and injured hand.

<...>

The first thing he noticed, was how the sun shined directly into his face, making him wish, that he could just simply put the blanket over his head and sleep a few more minutes, given that right now, a headache was killing him.

However, when instead of warm down, he felt sand and dust next to him, Jamey’s eyes snapped wide open.

Like crystal clear water, he remembered now, of course, until to the point were his mind started to shut off, from all the pain turning into a werewolf had caused him once again.

Raising his head, he observed his surroundings and noticed...that he was not too far away from Blaise Owens vehicle.

Speaking about the old cat, where were they?

Once again he looked around, but, right now there was no trace of them.

Scratching their chin, the dog slowly began to raise up, with his head, continuing to present him with a splitting headache, making him wonder if this really, was all because of the transformation into a beast, or if the whiskey might have also played its part.

Moving his hand down, he felt something, wet, sticky, but also crusty on the fur of his chest, which he thought was strange, and when he looked down, it first caused his brown-grey eyes to snap open once again, and then made him to fall on his back, in pure shock and horror.

Blood, with his whole upper body, and some parts of his pants basically doused in it, and now matter how hard he wanted to get rid of it...the half dried fluid didn’t get off.

For Jamey Price, there was no doubt whose essence of life, that was...and who he had taken it from.

It all made sense now, that Blaise Owens was nowhere to be found.

Gasping for air, he didn’t want to believe it, no, not it couldn’t be, he could feel his lungs burning, how his fur bristled and his body started to shake.

The dog could feel, how his vision turned blurry when the true realization, of what he believed had happened, kicked into his mind, feeling guilt, and hate about himself...for what he had done…tears already formed itself in the corner of his eyes.

There was, no chance that he could ever forgive himself for this...how would he even explain it...that the old war journalist was gone...because of him.

In his utter shock, distress and sadness, he failed to notice, how someone had appeared, who upon seeing the dog in his current condition, let fall everything onto the ground they had carried, approaching the dog as fast as possible.

Only, when he suddenly felt, a hug, did Jamey notice, that he wasn’t alone.

“Everything’s alright Mr.Price...I am here...I am still here.”

Another gasp escaped his mouth, but this time more in surprise, wondering if he just imagined this, but, when he again felt the warm embrace, and looking up to look the source of the voice into its eyes he knew.

Blaise Owens, was here, kneeling right next to him.

With a soft smile the cat offered their left hand for the dog to get up.

Grabbing on to it, Price raised himself, just to nearly fall on the dusty ground again, when he noticed, how the cats other hand, was wrapped in white fabric, and placed in a triangular bandage as well.

Did, did he do that?

Fortunately, this time, the Jamey was able to keep his balance, saying nothing whilst his mouth remained half-open, breathing in and out sharply, and being able to hold the tears back.

If, if he had bitten Blaise...then that would mean, the cat too, was very likely infected now with lycanthropy and-

However before his mind would have been once again, caused him to think of worst case scenarios, their injured friend coughed, having noticed, how he kept staring at his bandaged hand.

“Jamey...I know how this may look like, and what I say sounds perhaps unbelievable-”

Approaching him closer, the dog squinted his eyes shut, before feeling the felines hand on his shoulder similar to yesterday, however, the grip felt, weaker.

“-but during the whole night, you haven't hurt me at all, on the contrary Jamey-”

Their exhausted purple eyes looked into his brownish grey ones, and the longer he kept staring, the more, he could feel that he calmed a bit down.

“-you saved my life.”

Once again, the old cat, despite their injuries, smiled at him with reassurance that everything they said, was true, before they looked, a bit sheepish, on the ground.

“Frankly, I, wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”

Questions over questions were now in the dog’s mind, when he felt once again the pulsating headache, however, now it was more of a mild nuisance than real pain, closing his eyes, Jamey breathed in and out, having collected himself enough to ask the cat something as he shook his head for a moment.

“Blaise, just, what happened yesterday night, I don’t remember anything, it’s all blank.”

It was now the cat who for a moment shifted their focus on their right hand that was wrapped, then they walked a few steps, to what Jamey noticed, was his grey shirt, belt, and military flask, together with the electric torch and revolver the dog knew belonged to the injured war journalist with Owens reaching for the shirt and holding it in his direction.

“I-I should have listened to you, and did not, instead of leaving, I followed the direction of what I misheard as call from a wolf, and found myself confronted by a group of wolf-coyote hybrids instead.”

The older one of the two grit their teeth, and, he could see, how much, they regretted that they had gotten themselves into this situation, Jamey then took his belt from the cats hand.

And although, he knew he had told the cat not to follow, and to stay behind, he didn’t feel angry or stuck-up in any way...just, relieve that the old cat was alive, and, still in one piece, more or less. As he started to put the belt on his trousers, they continued their explanation.

“Coywolves aren’t supposed to be here…maybe someone raised them as pets...they got too dangerous and then got released when they got too hard to handle-”

Shaking their head, Blaise had noticed that they were trailing off.

“-anyway, they were clearly, hungry and desperate, seeing in me easy prey...I tried to back away slowly, case them off with movements and words, then with my gun...nothing worked, I….used self-defence taking down one, but before I knew it they already got me.”

Pointing at their bandaged hand, Jamey understood now, and it felt like, as if, very faintly he could remember some bits and pieces, looking down on his chest, it wasn’t hard now to guess whose blood that was on his body.

“Then you appeared, they refused to leave, attacked you and well, they didn’t got off easy, only two escaped into the night.”

He could feel his body moving, slowly going into the direction of the old cat, who was putting back their revolver into the holster.

“Of course I, have to admit, that, seeing your...alternative appearance for the first time left me startled, but then, all you did was sit down next to me, like a, if I may say, large watch do-uff.”

Blaise was taken by surprise, when suddenly they felt being embraced by a strong hug that, quiet literally took their breath away as they felt their feet no longer being on the ground.

“I am so, so glad you are safe Blaise...I don’t think I could have ever, forgiven myself if something would have happened to you.”

Hearing a soft whine coming from him, the old cat would have loved to give Jamey a reassuring pat on the back, but was unable to free themself from the strong grip, and just, a bit awkwardly smiled at the dog, before stuttering something out, in a clearly, respectful, but mildly pained voice.

“This is very appreciate Mr.Price...but...my hand.”

Noticing it himself he carefully and yet, quickly sat Blaise down, scratching on the back of his head with a bit of embarrassment, the tails wagging decreasing a bit as he kicked some sand away while looking at it.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No harm done heh, to be honest, you where really, determined, not to let me go and keep me save, it took a while until I was able to convince you, that I just wanted to get to the car, retrieving the first aid kit.”

Ah, so that’s how they ended up being so close to the vehicle, which yesterday the two of them had left behind.

He saw how Blaise was fumbling to get a small cigar out of their shirt pocket, before they gave up, very likely when they realised it would be too much effort.

“Not a single moment, was there were you left my side, and after putting the bandages on, you sat next to me like a big protector, with me eventually falling asleep, I woke up before you, at which point you had turned back.”

There was something, relieving in how the old cat had said that, knowing, that, Blaise or any other person was not harmed, by him in the hours he was in his werewolf form.

Putting the field flask away he took a glance at Blaise, who was occupied to look at their arm, their expression looking tired, and a bit uncomfortable, which he understood, given how deep canine teeth could go trough the flesh, and even bone.

“Blaise, would you like me to drive you, to a hospital...or the Medics?”

With genuine surprise they looked up at him, after they thought about Jamey’s words the war journalist nodded.

“Yeah, that would be kind, even, if the Coywolves, showed no signs of rabies, they still could have been sick, however, first lets return to the Roadkillerz base, so you can get a shower-”

Once again the cat offered the dog a sympathetic expression.

“-you have been trough a lot Jamey.”

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but to smile back, glad that his friend was still here.

“The same can be said about you too.”

Without changing their expression, the old war journalist, was ready to head back to their car, when they stopped, noticing that Price had something else to say.

“Blaise, thank you, for...for believing in me, that, means a lot you know?”

Scratching on his arm a bit nervous, they saw Blaise Owens giving him a silent nod, that said more than words, before Jamey Price began to move towards the all terrain vehicle as well.

#TW: Blood #tw: animal death #TW: Alcoholism #tw: substance abuse #Blaise Owens RKZ #Bowlers old stories #Bowlers old fanfictions

[bowlerhatwearer]

A Corner to lean on

Based on Roadkillerz which belongs to @ghostypeppers and can be found on his blog @ghostys-originals.

Samuel Cottontail and Commander Grizzly belong to @ghostypeppers

Special thanks to @ghostypeppers and @northerngrail

TW: Death Mention, TW: Mention of Blood, TW: Mild Gore, TW: Mild Violence, TW: Smoking

~~~~

Usually the desert is a quiet place, if there is not a sandstorm or the coyotes are howling in the night. But right now, this silence was broken, by the sounds of resentment of the situation its source was in.

Sam Cottontail, was more dragging, than walking himself into what he estimated and hoped, was the direction to the Wrath’s base.

The rabbit once again had died, and it took a while for his body to regenerate enough for him to move, which he did with a lot of physical effort and pain, placing his right hand on his left arm, that still felt very sore, no surprise given that it got blown off by the same event that had killed him.

Internally he was cursing and yet he should not have been surprised, it wasn’t the first time after all, since he had signed the contract that he was used as a meat shield, but today it felt more annoying than usual, maybe it was the temperatures that felt even more hot than usual, or perhaps that his whole body ached, he didn’t know, and didn’t care, all he wanted was to reach the Wrath’s base as soon as possible.

His vocal cursing was suddenly stopped, when he heard the grumbling of his stomach, that also made the rabbit realise, how thirsty he felt.

“Great, just great, at this point I am going to starve or die of thirst before I will make it.”

Looking around he saw a few wild cacti near him, if he wouldn’t be “home” soon, he wondered if he had to quench his thirst with them...again.

It made the general shudder, he had not the most pleasant experiences with biting into those plants and didn’t really like the taste, but, it was still better than nothing.

Surveying the area something else was caught in his red eyes, focusing on the spot, he noticed a spot from afar, that was definitely not part of the natural landscape and instead an artificial construct.

Taking a few steps further into the direction of the shape, from here it looked, as if it was made out of wood, but that was only an estimation, the same as with Sam wondering, if it perhaps was a telephone booth...or an outhouse.

If it was a way of communication, then at least, he could call the base, although, he wondered to himself if anyone would be interested to give him a ride, most likely not.

Breathing out sharply with an annoyed grunt, he decided to approach whatever the construct would turn out to be, at the very least, maybe he could rest a bit in the shadow of it, before continuing his journey trough the no-man’s land.

However, the closer he approached his intended target, the more he realised that it was too broad and tall to be what he had formerly theorised, and instead of a booth, it revealed itself to be actually, a small building.

Strange, despite the many times he had traveled here, he never noticed it before, maybe he was, really off with his estimation that he was going the right way.

Or perhaps, this was all just a mirage...or a hallucination from how tired, hungry and thirsty he had gotten.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised about anything any more.

Yet, the closer he got, the more real the building appeared to be, until he had reached the point, were he stood face to face, near its wooden walls, for a moment, allowing his head to rest on one of the pillars, that also were made out of wood, before Sam looked up, noticing a sign on the front.

“Corner’s Store”

A store, here in the middle of nowhere? That was strange, and clearly, whoever owned the place also had no knowledge about the proper usage of apostrophes.

The white furred rabbit decided it was the best to enter the building and ask if by chances the store’s owner or a clerk, knew the way to the base, rather than lingering in the hot temperatures any longer.

Maybe he also could grab a bite to eat there as well.

As he entered the building with the sing behind the door saying “open” trough the door window, his eyes went wide in surprise, gazed upon what the general was surrounded with.

What he saw, evoked long buried and deep memories in his mind, for the structure and inside of the building, reminded him of the general stores from his childhood, even if some parts were fuzzy, mingled or forgotten, there were still some fragments that felt clear, he wondered even if he would be able to recognise some of the wares and brands names.

There was also, music playing, from the bits and pieces he listened to, it sounded like western-music, making his eyes roll for a moment, how fitting.

Shaking his head, he told himself that this wasn’t important right now, knowing were he had to go was his top priority, but, there was no one here not even when he approached the wooden counter.

Maybe they were in the storage place or took a break, he knew his best chance was just to ask.

“Hello? Is anybody here?”

Two, brownish-grey long arms that grabbed on the counter, startled Sam quiet a lot, which he admitted to himself and before he knew it, he had lost balance, and fell on the floor, directly on his behinds.

“Aw sorry I didn’t mean to sca-”

Whatever the person wanted to say, they stopped themselves with a surprised, perhaps even, startled gasp.

“Oww.”

Rubbing his back for a moment, Sam opened his eyes, noticing how the person scaring him for a moment, was, literally, looking down on him from the counter with their eye looking at him in concern.

The person was, who he believed was an employee or perhaps even the store owner themself, a wolf, with their lanky stature there whole upper body reached over the counter, with no need for them to to tiptoe to reach that height, or so Sam believed at least, they were at least a head larger than J- the Commander

Before he could say anything, the wolf reached one of their hands into his direction, and although Sam knew he could stand up himself, they still offered this, what he assumed was a silent apology additional to the aborted vocal one.

They were looking at him with their eye that looked apologetic at him, on the right side they wore a black eye-patch.

“I must apologies profoundly for having startled you, I was sortin- ah that’s not important, if I would have known who my next customer would be, I would have dusted this place.”

But Sam only listened half to what they had said to him, more occupied by their, strange sense of fashion, although they wore a white apron in front of it, similar how he remembered store clerks did and some still do, it was more their clothing behind that.

It looked as if someone cut a suit and dress vertically in half, and used these halves to create a unique clothing which the wolf now wore.

When Sam was able to free himself from his focus, he noticed that he was met with a confused stare, oh, did they ask him something, at this point clearly, they must think he had hit his head.

Wait, did they maybe knew him?

“Sorry for staring, it’s just, that must be the first time that I have a general as a customer.”

Perhaps playfully, but maybe genuinely, they gave him a salute.

Ah, for a moment the white rabbit had forgotten that he was in his army uniform, with its insignia unmistakably showing that he indeed was a general….once.

“Its alright, I’m, erm here more, informal.”

Giving him a simple nod, they remained silent, awaiting that he continued.

“You wouldn’t know by chance the direction to the-”

Letting out a cough Sam knew that the next part would sound strange, but, it was worth a shot.

“-way to the base of the...Wrath?”

He awaited to get a confused look, or perhaps getting asked why he wanted to go there, but instead the vendor nodded again, removing their hands from the counter and pulling something out from beneath it, which the rabbit recognised as a map.

“Hmm, let’s see, we are here…ah yes if you just go the direction east from here, you should get there in around half an hour plus minus ten to fifteen minutes, if you walk there of course, by vehicle its obviously faster.”

Stepping on his toes to see on the tall counter, he took a glance himself to ensure the wolf told him the truth and, upon further inspection realised, they did.

Once again he was surprised that until now, he didn’t know about this general store, which stood in the middle of nowhere, that, together with that fact that the wolf knew so well were the base of the Wrath was.

“Say, has this place opened only recently?”

Squinting his eyes, he could hear a chuckles from the person who stood in front of him, their lower body hidden behind the counter.

“Oh not at all, me and this place have been here for quiet, a while now general.”

Huh, you really discover every day something new Sam concluded in his thoughts, but before anything else could go trough his mind, he, once again clearly heard the grumbling of his stomach, and apparently, he was not the only one.

“If I may say, you look like you have quite the hike behind you, may I offer you something to eat or drink perhaps?”

Sam looked up to them, were they really offering him something to eat, a stranger who had just entered this building a moment ago?

“That...would be nice. Wait, you offer meals here as well?”

“Just some small snacks, this is a general store after all general.”

Giving him a smile the wolf vanished behind a door, that maybe led to the pantry or break room, Sam took a glance at himself, noticing how not only his uniform was covered in the brown-orange dust, but some parts of his fur as well which he now tried to get rid off.

“I assume you are in a hurry, so I hope that what I can offer you swiftly, is sufficient, it’s not really a general’s meal.”

On a white plate two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that were cut in half were offered to him and with a mild “thump” the wolf placed a bottle of cooled generic brand cola next to the snack.

Although he had to admit, that the bread looked a bit soggy, his hunger caused him to ignore that detail, having taken a small bite at first, he now scarfed down the first and second half of the PB&J before taking some of the drink to wash the paste down his throat.

Having satisfied his craving he noticed that the wolf was looking at him, not staring, just a genuinely observation, of course he could have asked, what they are looking at, but, he had to admit, for a moment, he felt embarrassed how frenzied he ate the snack, making him chuckle nervously for a moment.

“Ehehe...sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s ok, I understand what it means being hungry.”

Reaching for his pockets he fumbled to find his wallet.

“So what do I owe you?”

“Oh, it’s on the house-”

A part of him told him to be grateful about it, yet, another side inside of him felt as if he got patronised by the vendor, he was a general after all so he could pay for his food.

“- because uhm, I feel bad for having startled you AND you are my first visitor today.”

Oh, was that now a good or bad sign he wondered, as he pushed his purse back.

Taking the third piece be thought out loud before taking a bite, he was now a bit curious.

“How’s business here?”

“Can’t complain Sir, I’ve got often tourists visiting the desert, people from Duststorm Valley, then from those uhm freedom fighters in the west and of course a few Wrath personnel as well from time to time, eh, I don’t judge, I’m just a small store owner.”

Taking a quick look, from what he saw, this place had an, rather homely appearance and also it didn’t felt too hot in here, despite Sam not seeing any air conditioner.

It must be, nice, he thought, for a moment, working in a small store and not being surrounded by people who just shrugged when you died even when you most of the time deserved it, on the other hand, then he would be alone with his thoughts, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted that.

With a quick shudder going trough his spine, he quickly ate the last sandwich half and drank the rest of the refreshment, that would be enough to keep him going, he really needed to leave now and didn’t have any more time for some small talk.

The wolf meanwhile filled a larger jar with something, that looked to Sam like wine gum.

It was only fair, that the least he could do was, to give a short sign of gratitude.

“I-I need to get going but thanks M-…what’s your name?”

“Tonic, Tonic Corner Sir but Tonic is just fine with me.”

Going trough his memories, Sam wondered if that was perhaps, the first time he had heard “Tonic” being used as a name, maybe it was a nickname.

“Anyway, thanks for the directions and fare.”

“Of course General, and, good look on your journey, or mission, please come again.”

Although he had already turned around, he could, imagine that the store owner and wolf was probably giving him a smile and doing the salute again as he mumbled to himself.

“Yeah….perhaps another day.”

&lt;...>

The day, came sooner than Sam had anticipated.

With a basket in the hand he had entered the store, sure he could have, gone to Duststorm Valley or Goldroot Town, but, this store was the closest to the base and it was worth a shot visiting it.

This time, Tonic stood behind the counter, cleaning it with a rag, but when the wolf heard how the door was opened, and Sam stepping into their store, a smile formed on their face.

“Ah general, welcome, it’s good to see you again. How may I help you today?”

Picking something out of the basket he put it on the counter, a plain shopping list.

“Do you sell all of that here?”

Squinting , Tonic took the paper and moved it closely to their eye.

“I think I do, except...for flowers?”

Now that was, strange. Looking confused at them, Sam tilted his head

“Flowers?”

“Well it says it right here, the very first word.”

Giving him the list back, Sam looked at it himself, before letting out a sigh.

“That says flour-”

He noticed, that for the general store owner, this must have been embarrassing, however when he looked at the list himself again, he had to admit, that, some of it, could be really read as something entirely different.

“-but to be fair, my commanders cursive can be hard to read, especially when he writes fast.”

“I understand, mines not the best too, which is why I prefer to use a typewriter, prevents delivery problems trough bad handwriting, but, I should have everything it says here-”

One again they took the list, putting it closer to their eye that focused on it.

“Malt, Paddle...ehm, I think you better read it to me Sir, most of these are a shot in the dark.”

Letting out a noticeable sigh, Sam resigned and did so as he was asked, he really wasn’t interested to play errand boy for the commander longer that he had to be, and so he told Tonic what groceries he needed.

Having placed the package of flour on the counter, Tonic took a small wooden ladder from under the counter, to get the baking soda.

“I have to admit Sir, I am a tad surprised that you do the groceries yourself, usually superiors order some subordinates to do that for them.”

That was true, but, what was really usual on his situation, not a lot, neither when it came to himself, the Wrath, or the turn of events that had caused him to ally himself with the organization he once fought against in the first place.

One of them being the commander ordering him doing things, he questioned more than once, but couldn’t refuse, due to his contract, the one he had signed, for reasons he knew well enough.

“My commander insisted that I do it myself.”

Perhaps the wolf heard something in his voice, or it was a hunch, but he knew they were going to comment on what he had said when Tonic turned around, placing the baking soda down.

“You know, I’m really glad I am self-employed now, because if I had your superior, I would have left.”

Sam looked down on the floor, it was a thought he honestly, had a few times going trough his mind yet-

“That’s not possible...for a few reasons.”

Offering him a compassionate look, the wolf turned around again and grabbed a box of eggs and then a package of refined sugar.

“For the last two things on the list I need to go to the backroom, and given you are the only customer at this hour, feel free to come along.”

Well, he had nothing better to do and maybe he could avoid with that to think too much about the choices he had made trough his life.

Going behind the counter he saw a niche, not taller than himself were a few objects were placed around, but before he could look at them Tonic had already opened the door and let him in.

It wasn’t the largest room, but also a lot bigger than a supply closet, there were a few shelves with objects, that had been neatly organised, cans that have been stacked by color, or packages placed like cubes or pyramids. In the center was a table with three chairs, and so the general assumed that Tonic used this place also to take their breaks.

In the left corner, stood a fridge, and one that Sam knew all too well, for he remembered that, they had a similar one at home.

Clearly it was an old model, and had to be from the fifties, and yet it was no surprise that, if it really was from that decade, that it was still running, there were a few companies back then, who still cared about creating devices that would work forever, and not already loose a part if you looked at them funny.

“This is probably one object in my inventory, I am the most proud of, I bought them in a thrift store decades ago, and despite the many years they have on their back, the fridge just works as if it came out of the factory. No wonder these things are able to withstand nuclear bombs or other disasters.”

Sam couldn’t help but let out a snort.

“You believe that? You know that’s just an urban legend that has been around for decades.”

Reaching for the handle, Tonic opened the fridge and allowed the general to look inside of it, that was also, around the same height as he was.

“Hmpf, I have to let you know general, I am confident that this fridge will outlive all of us.”

For a quick moment, the general considered to say “Maybe you, but not me.” but, he was not in the mood to tell the general store owner he barely knew, about his curse that he brought upon himself years ago and instead decided to focus on the contents of the fridge again.

It too, was neatly organised, perhaps even better than any fallout shelter Sam had to admit, with the glass milk bottles all stacked to ensure no space was wasted, the same went for the butter and all the other products, in the lowest row were even a few bottles of wine and beer.

“-you really have everything, well...except one thing, I see white, but no red wine in there.”

Looking at him, the wolf grinned, looking proud at him yet, Sam felt that they were not done.

“Good observation general, but red wine does not necessary has to be cooled and can be kept at room temperature, which is why I store them in another part of the store so I have more room in the fridge for other things.”

Taking one bottle of milk and a package of butter, they nudged with their head, a sign, for the white rabbit to close the door of the fridge before telling Sam to go ahead.

While Tonic wrote the bill and used a mechanical cash register that the general wondered why it wasn’t already in a museum, he looked around the shop.

Above the wolf were smaller containers, all labelled differently, some for example were filled with spices others also with different kinds of coffees but of course there was much more.

Near the entrance he saw a record player and whatever country-music it played, it must have been a long playing record, or perhaps it was one of those players that started from anew, once they came to the end of the disc, he also saw under it, a wooden crate that had more record in it.

He also was certain that he saw somewhere at least one box of cigars laying around.

In a corner, he could even see how the even had a few pieces of fashion, some neatly folded together while two pieces were put on coat hangers to display them more, with the suit and dress, reminding Sam of the clothing Tonic was wearing.

For a moment, he considered going towards the clothes, but even if he would have, was stopped when he heard the cash register opening and the wolf putting the bill on the counter before they re-adjusted their eye patch.

“Is there anything else I can help you with general?”

With his errand being over, he knew that this meant now, he had to return to the Wrath base.

“No, that would be all.”

Did they notice the resignation in his voice? For a short moment, similar to the flick of a light-switch he saw the wolf’s expression change before they gave him a smile again.

As the general took out his wallet, the general shop vendor did not object this time, instead, as Sam placed the money on the counter, they reached for one of the glass jars filled with fruit chew candy. Pouring at least a quarter of its content into the basket and causing the general to look in both, disbelieve and yet, also surprise.

“Tonic what, what are you doing?!”

“Making your day a bit more sweet.”

“By filling my basket with candy?”

Tilting his head in question, Sam saw how they wrapped their arm around jar, before Tonic let out a sigh.

“Listen Sir, I don’t think it’s fair that your superior orders you to do his personal groceries-”

Putting their hand now into the transparent cylinder, taking out exactly one candy, before reaching it into his direction.

“-so there should be at least something in for you.”

It was, candy, for some it was just that, but, deep inside of the general, something felt warm and he appreciated it, because it may just be candy for some, but for him, it was an honest gift.

Slowly taking the sweet that was wrapped in paper that had strawberries on it, he knew that he had to leave soon, but for a second looked at what he now held in his hand.

For a moment, he thought about when he had received his last gift, that was not a weapon or doomsday device he had to test, usually ending his day abruptly.

Ready to leave he took the basket with he groceries and filled with candy.

“Thanks Tonic…that’s very, cons-...kind of you.”

Placing the lid back on the jar, they gave Sam a friendly smile and salute.

“Anytime general.”

<...>

“C-could I ask you something?”

Despite the fact that he had known the northwestern wolf for a while now, the general felt unwell about asking this particular question.

Tonic Corner meanwhile stood on their ladder, stacking cans of preserved peaches on each other, constructing on the rack a small pyramid.

“Of course, shoot.”

Holding one of said cans into their directions for the wolf to pick up, the white rabbit let out a sigh, he felt in a way, perhaps embarrassed, and yet, a small voice, that escaped a small fissure in his internal wall, whispered to him he could trust them, they had known each other for some time now after all.

“It’s…more personal, so erm...don’t get upset…please.”

For a while they stopped and Sam flinched, closing his eyes awaiting the fallout of his words as he fidgeted with his hands.

Instead he heard a chuckle, that while sounding faintly tired, was genuine.

“General, even if you would ask me for my credit card information, I wouldn’t be angry, maybe wondering if you are part of a multi-level-marketing scam but not angry.”

He reached the last can in her direction.

“You know you don’t have to call me by my rank all the time.”

Finishing the small architectural construct, Tonic started to descend from the short ladder.

“Eh, I see it more as a nickname by now, what is it you wanted to ask me?”

Turning around, Sam took a deep breath, in a way he thought this was, ridiculous, he was a four star general of the government’s army...once and yet it was so hard for him to talk about this topic.

But maybe, it was exactly that reason why it was so difficult to address it.

He looked at the dress on the coat hanger, the one he, secretly had been looking at more than once, making him feel things, he had buried long ago, or so, he thought.

“When...when did you dec-...found out...realised it…your...how you live your life now, and being comfortable about it.”

Hearing footsteps, the general wondered if he blew it, should he make some remark, brushing his question away? This was stupid, no he was stupid, he should not ask such silly questions. Father wa-

Feeling a soft touch, his red eyes opened looking at Tonic’s hand that was gently placed on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile, he felt, how the wolf understood what he meant to say.

“It was my first semester in theater class, I just experimented and, ‘they and them’ stuck with me, felt more comfortable using them. I like wearing dresses, I like wearing suits, so at one point I decided, why not dress in both and voila.”

Turning around to face Tonic again, Sam caught them just in time as they made a formal bow in his direction, wearing their clothing, half a suit and dress, they looked so, confident and happy about it, something he doubted, he could ever do.

With the wolves words still echoing trough his mind, he began to wonder something, as a new question formed in his mind.

“Theater class...so you were an actor before you went into the shop vendor business?”

Smiling, Tonic let out a short, yet also loud “ha” continuing their grin as they chuckles for a moment.

“No, it’s a nice thought but I left after my first semester, one of our teachers was a pretentious jerk, so I together with a friend left and went to another college instead, both of us studying journalism.”

Sam had to admit, there was something, humorous, to imagine the lanky wolf running around with a camera or perhaps a tape recorder for interviews. Although, Sam saw in many journalists, nosy people who loved to ask trick questions or twisted words around, he couldn’t imagine that Tonic was this kind of person.

Grinning he was curious and had to ask something else, maybe perhaps also a bit as a tease.

“So, what sort of journalist were you? Did you write for one of those tabloids who know more about superstars, than they know about themselves?”

The moment, their smile faltered, from one second to another, was also the very same, were Sam wondered if now would be a good time, for his curse to take effect to spare him from the embarrassment, of having clearly poked on a touchy subject.

Making a half turn, Tonic looked at a shelve that was filled with cleaning products, the iris of their eye moving as if it was a table tennis ball, finally they smiled again, but not as bright as it was before, and more, shaky.

“No...I...reported about war...saw a lot of things that...changed me.”

Did they knew him? The question suddenly jumped into his mind. Was Tonic actually aware of who he was, and what he had done in the past, but as for now had not revealed anything, maybe waiting for the right moment

“What...war?”

Biting on his lips and looking on the floor, he did not know what animated him to ask that, or actually, he knew very well, he had to kno-

“A few, but, my last active service, was reporting about, the Coastal War.”

He remembered, it was a conflict, that had happened at the same time, when he was fighting against the Wrath. Although he did not know all the details, from what he remembered, it was described as pure terror, one that started in the last century, and ended at the beginning of the current one.

“Oh…”

Slowly looking up again, he noticed how Tonic had taken one of the boxes of detergent from the shelf, as if they were reading the description of the box and yet they still had their attention at the general, continuing their response.

“I was supposed to be there, only for a few months, it wasn’t pretty.”

Taking a sharp breath, the wolf put the package back, before turning around, their attention back to Sam, their eye, looking gloomy, as if they thought back and found themselves in a place of the past again.

“Well, I got my stay involuntary extended, spend the next five years as a POW.”

With the object being returned to its original place, the very same hand that had held it, moved to their face, and although Tonic’s focus was still were the products stood, the white rabbit could see, how they touched their black eye patch as their fur bristled.

“One of the personnel…we called him “The Butcher”, clawed my eye out, all because I “looked at him funny”, he was one hell of a stoat.”

The last word, was that caused Sam to shudder, with memories resurfacing, that, he did not want to remember himself and tried so often to suppress, and yet, he could feel pulsating pain going trough his left ear, as if the bite wound was still fresh and before the general knew it himself, he was already touching it.

„I guess, we have something in common, as tragic as it is Sir.“

His throat felt dry, and Sam had no interest in sharing his story, and, a part of him knew that Tonic didn’t expect him to tell them, and understood, just staring at him with deep sorrow, it made him feel, sorry for them, and although right now it was for him, as if there was a lump in his throat, he managed to bring out a word.

“Yeah…..”

With one deep inhalation, followed by exhaling that sounded for the rabbit that still looked on the floor, more like an exhausted sigh, Tonic’s attention returned back to the general, trying to give a confident appearance while looking tired, as if, sharing these few sentences, costed them so much energy and overcoming.

“After what happened in there, I...I just couldn’t continue...luckily I still had my wife and son who supported me, and well, then I became a general store owner and vendor.”

Once again Sam saw how the brownish-grey wolf took a breath, as if trying to get rid of her thoughts once and for all, or perhaps at least for the moment as they approached the part were the clothing stood, picking up the dress.

“You can try it on if you want to? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Despite what had just happened, a few seconds ago, Tonic offered the white rabbit a warm look.

He was surprised, how, did they know, or was it more a lucky guess from them? And yet he did not feel, at the moment embarrassed...or ashamed about it. A part of him wanted to feel the dress and how it may look on him, but no, he couldn’t, not right now...not yet, despite the wish, there was something in himself, that held the rabbit back.

“Maybe, maybe later.”

“Of course”

With the fashion returned to its original place, the wolf gave the general an understanding expression as they walked past him, approaching the counter

“Tonic?”

Hmh?”

Swallowing down some air, it was now Sam who let out a short breath.

“Thanks for...for being so open to me.”

Leaning against the counter, the wolf smiled at him.

“We all need sometimes a corner to lean on.”

<...>

He messed up, him and that loud mouth of his, he should have known this would cause problems.

The panting and running were only one sign of that, the panic he had and ran trough his whole body was another.

Despite the fact, that he was used to death, there was just something, terrifying and disturbing of the thought how this time he might die.

Luckily for the general, between him and his persecutor, he was, even for his age, the faster one.

Despite him focusing more in what was directly in front of him, in the corner of his eyes, he could see a building that by know Sam knew very well.

Swallowing some air, his thoughts were in overdrive, but one of them was stronger compared to the others that went trough his mind.

It pained him, to think about, roping Tonic into this, but...he….he trusted them, and this was his best shot to come out alive of this.

The rabbit hoped, that they could forgive him, from the trouble he would cause them, but also understood if after that, they never wanted to see him again.

With a sudden sharp turn, he ran to the building, with the doorknob slipping from his shaky hand the first time, before he pushed the door and was inside of the store.

There was Tonic Corner, standing as usual behind the counter, having a mellow expression on their face when they saw him, about to greet the rabbit, with the expression changing to confusion, when the general continued running towards them, and making a sudden hop he was on top of the wooden surface. Meeting face to face with the general store vendor.

“Hide me-”

“Wh-”

“-please!”

Maybe it was the anxiety in his eyes, or the fact that he was completely out of breath, perhaps also his fur bristling in alarm and him shaking, but the wolf’s expression changed into an, understanding and serious tone.

“Under the counter, quick.”

Taking a few steps behind, they gestured down, swiftly, with his stamina already starting to dwindle, Sam removed himself from the surface, now on the opposite side he crawled in the free space under it, were to the wooden ladder a bucket and a few other things laid around, or were fixated on the wood.

But he did not focus on that right now, what was more important to him, was pressing his mouth shut to ensure he was not heard, despite him hyperventilating.

Usually, he had no problems being yelled at, or threatened, he could take that and had experience with that trough his military career.

But, it was something else, when it was him, and HE, was really mad with the fight they had today.

It really was, different when, it is someone yelling at you, whose body they use does not belong to them, and you hear the voice of someone you cared about but words being spoken and used, that are not theirs.

“WHERE IS HE, WHERE?!”

The general could feel how the blood froze in his veins, and the breath got stuck in his throat, all was quiet, there was no music playing as usual, only the sound of boots, stepping with a sign of might on the wooden floor, who had to accept this treatment, having no say in that matter as they creaked in resignation.

“Greetings how ma-”

How quickly Tonic, whose legs he could only see, voice changed, it made him wonder if it was a remnant of the time they went to theater class.

“Don’t play coy with me, were is he, where is the GENERAL?!”

Their legs shifted, instead of the casual stance, they now turned more to, attention.

“You appear upset but...I only see us two right now, guess that means you are my first customer of the day.”

A sudden sound, of something falling...a can perhaps, startled him for a moment, then the steps grew louder.

“I know he is here shopkeeper, and I will dismantle your whole shack if I have to!”

When Sam heard, how he, the commander, slammed his hands on the wooden counter, the rabbit really had to keep it together, not to make a single noise.

The loud sound of sniffing was in the air.

“His smell lingers in this room wolf, so you better give him to me now! He signed a contract! He belongs to me!”

With the words being yelled, there was a short silence, only being broken when the wolf took a sharp breath and a cough that almost sounded like a sarcastic chuckle.

“Smells like dust and a glass of molasses to me, the one you just knocked over, want to buy something? Because I don’t tolerate loitering in my store, grizzly bear.”

What followed was a growl, one Sam knew, all to well at this point, but the following sound, surprised him, because the sound was accompanied, by a wolf’s snarl that tried to drown out the commander.

“I will count to three, if you don’t give me the rabbit then...YOU will be sorry for getting in MY face.”

“YOU entered MY store pal!”

“One!”

Tonic Corners hands suddenly appeared above him, and for the first time Sam looked at the ceiling, making his eyes small.

A double barrel shotgun was attached to the wood over his head, and it made him gulp in fear...no…he understood Tonic but he silently begged them not to do it…please…no…not Jude.

“Two!”

However, to Sam’s relieve the hands moved behind the rifle, and they grabbed something else, that, due of how far behind it was, he could not identify completely, it looked like a can of...hairspray?

“Thr-”

Quickly the wolf took it from under the counter, when there was the sound of spraying, followed by a loud, startled and pained yell and confused steps on the floor.

“You miserable wretch what did you-”

With the can falling on the floor and rolling towards Sam, Tonic’s hands quickly grabbed under the wood again, taking another can that looked the same, hearing the same sound of the spray can being used and a similar sound of anguish from the Commander, as before, he took a glance at the can in front of him.

Taking a quick look at the metal object, he understood now why his pursuer was reacting that way.

A can of anti bear spray, and the wolf just gave their opponent a double dosage of it.

Unmistakably he could hear the commander gagging and breathing for air as if he had inhaled mustard gas, Sam also listened how a few more objects fell...and crashed on the floor, but, from the sound of it, nothing got broken. He could hear the anger in the voice of the bear whose pride got hurt, spewing out words to make him appear threatening again.

“Do you know who I am?!”

“Oh I know...you are a freeloader, that’s what you are.”

“I am-”

Again someone slammed their fists on the counter, but Sam knew, that this time the source was the store owner themselves, accompanied by another snarl.

“The next warning s’ going to hurt a lot more if you don’t sod off buddy!”

Angry and patience growing thin, that’s how they sounded. Sam had never heard the wolf’s voice with such...fire before as he did now

His commanders voice, which was usually mighty and loud, go reduced to one that was gasping to get more air into his lungs and also one that sounded hoarse, very likely from the effects of the bear spray.

“You will regret this day you crossed me for the first and last time huckster!

“Leave NOW!”

For a moment the general thought, as if the whole building was shaking from how strong the voice shouted those two words out of their lungs, as if they wanted to dispel an evil spirit, who had invaded this place.

Well, it wasn’t too far off.

Now there was nothing more that got said, only some sniffing and coughs from the bear together with the tension that still lingered, then some grumbling, footsteps who no longer sounded as strong as before, and the store’s door being slammed shut. Then there was just uncomfortable silence.

How long it remained like that, Sam could not say, during the whole quarrel he had listened too, he had lost track of time, but, despite how recent it was, he could no longer feel his chest rising as quickly and in panic, as it did before.

“Oh…oh my...”

Tonic’s voice sounded so ,anaemic, while today he heard many emotions, he didn’t know they were capable of, this one concerned the general the most, as he pulled himself out of the crawlspace, he saw a glimpse of the wolves tail, as it vanished in the backroom, with the white rabbit, slowly approaching the door to it.

“A-are you alright?”

It was, undeniable that he felt guilty...and like an absolute fool, what was he thinking?! Very likely nothing given his panic in the moment an internal voice reminded him. And still, he should have fought this battle himself, and not, made them doing it for him.

He would have to leave now, wouldn’t he? The wolf, who had, over the many weeks they had known each other, a good associate, would hate him for what he had done? Sam couldn’t really blame Tonic if they were now thinking that way about him, especially, because they know knew, about the contract...and with the commanders uniform, it was clear now that he too was associated with the Wrath.

“Oh...Sam...take a seat, if you want to.”

Sitting on the chair, they gestured to one of the other two, quietly he obliged, awaiting that at any given moment, the general store owner would throw him out.

But nothing came, Tonic just breathed in and out, with Sam assuming they were recharging their energy. Their fur was still bristling, their body shaking and the wolf’s tail moving quickly.

Yet, the longer the two sat in silence, the more he felt uncomfortable, as if his body was about to explode if he didn’t say...anything!

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

His voice felt so dry, as if he had swallowed a cup of sand, the rabbit, couldn’t, look them into their face in the moment.

“For what?...Because of ol’ wrath bear...it’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you...honestly hiding yourself was for the best…guy was like a boiler that was about to explode.”

Letting out another breath, they allowed their tense posture to relax a bit, looking down at the floor, it made Tonic appear as if they were about to doze off.

“But...you know now...what I am part of, the contract...that I am no longer part of the army and instead part of-”

Despite trying to, he found himself unable to finish the sentence, his throat felt so sore.

“-of the Wrath? I know…I knew since you first entered my shop.”

There was no anger in Sam when he heard it, just confusion, with his ears going up in attention.

“How...how did you figure it out?”

Shrugging with their shoulders, they gave the rabbit a clueless expression.

“A feeling, maybe a hunch...I just, kind of knew.”

Questions, floated in his mind, he did not understand.

“Then why, are you so kind to me? You, risked your life, just to protect me, why would you do that?”

“Because I think you are a good person Sir, besides, you are not the first Wrath custo-”

What they continued to say, faded out from his mind, a “good person”, did they really think he, General Samuel Cottontail, was a good person, it was a nice thought...yet so foolish to think about him like that. He felt, how his head turned to face the wolf that continued to say something, in a voice that sounded as if it had resigned many years ago to its fate.

“You…don’t know me Tonic, I’m not, an honorable person. It’s not a war hero who sits next to you, it’s a criminal.”

Their sentence cut off immediately, he just wanted to say it, a statement, as neutral as possible and yet, it sounded so hurt...so filled with emotion and sadness, despite the fact that he did not shed a tear, but more, as if he had just revealed a horrible truth, and in a way, didn’t he just do that?

Closing their eyes, the wolf bend a bit backwards, pressing against the chair, inhaling deeply, before exhaling the air with a hearable sound.

“Do you, regret what you did, or at least some of it?”

What he could not, Tonic did, it was a question, just a question as one might read on an exam, sounding with out any prejudice or emotion, a neutral sentence, waited to be answered.

Yet he couldn’t, at least, not vocally, and all the white furred rabbit was able to do, was to give a silent nod.

“Then I see no issue and my point remains, I think, you are a good person Sir.”

Flabbergasted he did not know what to say, but, even if he could have, the wolf was not finished, despite their whole body still recovering.

“I might not know why you are with them...or why you are under contract with that jerk…and of course I don’t know a lot about you general, but I feel, that you try to make things better…and that you attempt to leave a good impression behind, I guess that’s why-”

Smiling, they looked at him into his red eyes, genuinely and despite being tired with a happy tone, the wolf finished their sentence.

“-you are my friend.”

No, that, was not right, he didn’t hear that correctly didn’t he? Tonic must have said something else, and yet, their smile remained as they looked at him. Did they really see him like that, despite the many bridges he had burned in his live? Did they really see him, as a friend?

Despite the fact, that he tried to hold back as good as possible when he had heard the word, he could feel how his eyes got wet.

His companions smile did not fade, yet their eye showed compassion when they noticed it.

“Would you like to have a tissue?”

Remaining silent, Sam nodded again.

&lt;...>

Pain, absolute and indescribable pain was all that went trough his body, well, and a few twitches here and there.

At this point, Sam was used to it, but there was something different when you were unable to see, how injured your own body was that already slowly, attempted to reconstruct itself.

He knew that the same accident that took his eyes, blew away the lower half of his body together with his right arm, and the explosion also caused him to crash somewhere randomly into the desert.

Oh, and that a pack of coyotes was fighting over him, mangling him even more, he did attempt to trash around with his remaining arm, but right now they were pulling on that as well. And his futile attempt at yelling got ignored by the animals.

If he was lucky, he would be dying sooner or later, and wake up the next day, it was better than having to be aware of every single passing moment, only hearing the growling of the coyotes, the howling of the wind and in the distant something...droning?

The sound grew louder, and the rabbit began to recognise that it was, from a machine, yes, an engine but not from a car or truck, for that it was, too different.

Only when it was nearly there, and caused the coyotes to get a fright from it, yowling in disappointment that they had to abandoned their easy meal but valuing their own life more from whatever the sound was they could not understand, did Sam start to recognise it.

It was a motorbike, from the sound of it not the strongest, or perhaps it was old or needed some repairs, that was right now, not what he cared about, instead it was how suddenly the engine went death, and he heard footsteps, then as if someone was near him, sitting...falling or kneeling down, it was hard to say.

He could not understand the voice, if there were words, it was all too fast and sounded more like gibberish to him, but he could hear the emotion grew, and then how they began to sob, cry and soon to wail in absolute sadness.

They must think he was death, and given his current status he could not blame the stranger, although of course surprised by their reaction, the rabbit knew it was for the best not to to make a sound.

Which wasn’t possible anyway, given that his throat and vocal cords were, right now in the process of healing.

Moving would maybe also a bad idea, or else they might think he was some sort of zombie.

So he allowed them to cry for him, this absolute stranger, although he was in a way impressed, whoever that person was, they sure did not mind getting blood all over their clothing...a leather jacket maybe..given that they were the user of a motorbike.

For how long they cried over his death body, Sam couldn’t really say, for a variety of reasons, but he heard them mumbling a few sentences and words, although, he did not understand what they said, maybe it was a prayer for him.

He wondered, if, once they were finished they would put maybe a blanket over him, call the authorities or maybe, they would bury him at this spot, however, no one prepared him for what was about to happen, not even he could have foreseen it.

Suddenly, he felt how his body was picked up by the stranger, and while they grunted for a moment, they managed to lift his body, just, what did they think they were doing? Could they just not, leave him alone while he was in pain?

Despite, how did they expect to carry him on a motorbike, he had no legs on him after all.

Gently, he could feel how his body was lowered, with his right arm touching something that felt like metal, but the floor was more, wooden he assumed, he doubted this was a coffin.

With the sudden start of the engine again, in the back of his mind came the answer.

Oh, whoever had found him, must have had one of those motorbike trailers, one that had walls so you could transport something, like sand, stones…or a mangled body.

Despite his injuries, Sam could feel when the motorbike started to move, all that was left for him to do was to, enjoy the ride, wherever they were going, it couldn’t be worse than the coyotes.

A sudden bump caused something to hit his face, and touching it with his remaining arm, he recognised it as a tin can.

Well, whoever took him, also apparently had earlier got his groceries, or was delivering them to some place.

Letting out a breath, as good as that was possible for him, he had to admit, it was better than nothing, he had been on worse rides, even if he did not know, what his destination would be.

There was not much for him to do, he, could feel the sun shining on his face, and how here and there a few specs of dust flew into his face, but that was it, the ride felt endless however, from what he remembered that was no surprise, given that he was somewhere in no man’s land, when he got horribly injured.

Coming to a sudden halt, with his body moving a bit forward, and a few more cans rolling over him, was there something on the way...or did they reach their goal, whatever that would turn out to be, but when they heard the driver stepping down from their motorbike, and approaching him once again, he assumed they were here.

For a moment all was silent, but the stranger let out a sorrowful yet sharp sigh before stepping away from him...he recognised the clinking of one or more keys and a door being opened, then he got lifted up again, being carried like a bride on her wedding day, or so Sam assumed from how he was held.

It only lasted a short time, before once again he was laid down somewhere, and again, it felt like, wood, but this time as on top of the wood was something, he also noticed that it was cooler so, he must have been in a building.

Maybe someone of the Medic- no, that couldn’t be, the ride would have taken longer, it was more likely possible that someone of the Wrath found him...or the Roadkillerz perhaps...although, no...would of the two organisations anyone cry for him? One saw him as the enemy...and the other as an always returning meat shield.

So who was that person? If they were not going to reveal themselves, he would be asking once his throat felt better.

Just in that moment, he heard them letting out a sigh again, as they, so he concluded, removed their helmet, they sniffed as they got closer and, carefully brushed against the fur on his cheek as finally, they said something, trembling.

“Oh...Sa-Sir…not you too.”

Then they grew silent and he heard sobbing again.

If he had eyes right now, he would have had snapped them open in surprise, he knew who that was, definitely and without doubt, and if he had to take a good guess, Sam also knew where he was right now and on what exactly he was laying.

“W-Well, I guess...it’s time to...call the...auth-”

That was understandable, he could hear them moving around, and the general knew, that now, was the best moment to break the ice, and reveal to them, the unbelievable.

His throat still hurt a lot, but he could feel that his vocal cords, had healed, in his opinion, good enough, he knew that this would be painful, but, he had to do it now, taking all his energy he raised his voice.

“T...Ton..ic”

That was all before Sam suddenly felt the need to cough, well, that was good enough, the wolf knew now for sure that he was not death.

And indeed, he could clearly hear a gasp of both, surprise and utter shock, with whatever they held, their mobile phone perhaps, falling down on the floor, and quick steps that approached him.

“General...you...you’re alive...I-I-”

He wondered, if the wolf would cry for him again, but, it appeared as if they tried at best to keep calm.

“-I’m going to get you h-help right away, just, remain calm.”

Sam appreciated those words, he really did, most of the time when someone found him, they just, left the body where it was until he would wake up again and he had to walk to the Wrath base all by himself, but, there was no need for that, and the did not like the idea to stay in the hospital or being asked questions by some doctor.

“D...on’t, b-bother…”

Their voice was so hurt and shaky, he never heard Tonic so sad like that before, they really, must care a lot about him.

„If you think I am going to let you d-die...then you are wrong. I care about you and-“

He of course understood were they were coming from, but, the rabbit also knew that he had to tell them the truth, especially the part that he was not going to die and so he decided to interrupt them.

“T-...onic...listen...I can’t die...I am cursed...LITER…ALLY…I stole...from a god.”

For a moment Sam wondered if he was going to cough blood, but nothing came, except of course that his throat still felt very pained, next to the other pain that went trough his whole body, any other person would have passed out by the severity of their injuries, but not him of course.

“W-what...general h-”

“How...else do you think…I...’m still alive?”

The rabbit couldn’t remember when the last time was, that he had such difficulties forming a sentence, but he really hoped and wished right now, that Tonic would believe him, even if he was in absolute discomfort, he would be alright sooner or later.

His companion in the room, which he assumed was the backroom that by now he knew very well, stuttered for a moment, clearly, they didn’t want to argue with him, but of course, he understood that his words sounded very unbelievable and perhaps delirious too.

“B-But...your eyes…”

“Will gro-ow back later.”

“Sir...”

“Tonic…listen, I can’t die…I am c-ursed to live and die,...never ending cy...cle...brought…on...myself.”

Right now he felt so exhausted, well, that was no surprise, regenerating a body in such a state, was costing him a lot of energy, he could hear, how Tonic was moving a chair closer to him, and then sat down, letting out a resigned sigh.

“Is...is there anything I can do for you?”

Deciding to not strain his healing vocal cords any longer, Sam slowly shook his head.

“Well, the least I CAN do, is stay here with you until you have recovered.”

Feeling a soft touch on his hand, he leaned back on, well, he was obviously on the table of the backroom, for a moment all was quiet, and the rabbit wondered if between the pain and feeling his body slowly heal, he would at one point fall asleep.

However, the sound of soft sobbing, broke him away from the thoughts, it was clear, that despite being alive, that their companion was deeply shaken by what they had seen.

“T...To-”

“I really thought...I would loose you too...and that, I would be alone again.”

Deep sorrow was in the voice of the wolf and the rabbit knew, that they were not finished, and perhaps, that they wanted to share something with him.

“My customers come and go so frequently, I don’t really have any small talk with them, imagine my surprise when you stepped into my store and we held a short conversation, and that more than once...and as we talked more...we got to know each other..,”

There was a soft chuckle, and their voice sounded for a moment happy...and so full of relieve and yet, it quickly was drowned out, when it turned shaky again, hesitating if they should tell him more but, also, as if something in them told the wolf, to continue. He had time, and would listen to Tonic.

“First, I saw so many good people die in that horrid place I was incarcerated for so long, there were less and less...so few were left, who I knew, when the day came it was over, but when I returned...there was still my family….my wife and our son, who I had not seen in five years, who supported me-”

No longer did they try to hide their sadness, with the wolf allowing it to break trough

“-and then...from one moment to another...they are both gone too...and it’s just me and the store, I-”

Sam heard their cry, louder and clearer than ever before, heard the wolf’s wailing for the people they had lost, hearing how they moved their hands to their eyes and their sounds being muffled, and how from the shaking of their body, their chair groaned, as if it wanted to empathize with Tonic.

The general genuinely wanted to do the same, or at least telling the wolf, how sorry he was for their loss, but he couldn’t, mostly because of his injuries, all that was left to do, was him slowly moving his arm, carefully into their direction perhaps it was fate, that the grieving shop owner sat directly, were his arm was, placing the rabbits remaining hand gently, on their shoulder.

He could feel how Tonic placed their head on his hand, as they continued to mourn those, who they had lost all those years ago and the loneliness the wolf had felt for so long,

&lt;...>

Sam had to admit, that what he witnessed today, was a first.

Now, he was very well aware that he was not the only visitor of “Corner’s store”, but it still was the first time that he saw someone else in there, when he was present.

He had just entered the store, when he noticed the gestalt in front of him, who wore a coat with a long collar, making him unable to see their face but wondering why they had chosen such clothing style in the middle of the desert when the afternoon sun was burning down without any mercy.

The customer and Tonic were talking with each other, but it appeared as if their conversation was coming to an end.

“Ah well, it was nice seeing and talking with you again, have a nice day.”

“...likewise...”

A bill together with a few coins dropped a few inches above the wooden counter, not caring if the metal might roll away. Only focusing in what they had purchased.

From the one word he had heard their voice sounded husky and the smoke smelling like tobacco approved that sentiment, as they brushed against Sam, who again could not see their face but noticed the lit cigar in their hand, it was as if the strange customer, had not acknowledged the generals presence at all, and now they were gone, something inside of the rabbit hoped, he would not have to encounter that rude stranger ever again.

Approaching the counter he took another glance at the door that was closing, before looking at Tonic, the wolf appeared as if something was on their mind.

“What was their problem?”

“A lot...and it’s going to eat them from the inside if they keep it that way.”

Shaking their head as if the general store owner symbolically tried to remove the thoughts from the person, they offered Sam a smile.

“So, are you ready for our, ‘performance’ Sir?”

Grinning, Sam could feel how his head turned a bit red.

The last time they had seen each other, Sam mentioned, how he liked, singing, and after a bit of persuasion from Tonic, agreed to sing for them, the wolf was by no means pushy, instead they were thrilled when they spoke about it, and how they would love to hear him sing.

“Very well, but you better keep your part of the agreement.”

How could he ever deny Tonic such a request? But, the general had made it clear that he only would sing for the wolf, and only them and he also kindly, yet stern asked for no recordings.

“Of course a promise is a promise, come on, lets go to the storage and break room, so even if a customer should come, they won’t hear you, or only muffled.”

Breathing out, the general could not help but wonder, what he had gotten himself into, but he could not deny, that he found it, kind that Tonic wanted to hear him sing.

As they both entered the backroom, the white rabbit immediately noticed, how there was something off given that there was a wide object on the usual empty table.

“What is that?”

“I thought, it is only fair, that when you sing, that I support you with some strumming.”

“You didn’t tell me you could play the keyboard, why didn’t you say anything when I told you I about my piano skills?”

“Well, when you mentioned it, I thought, I keep it a surprise for today.”

Scratching on the back of their neck, they appeared a bit embarrassed, Sam however did not feel disgruntled, he was actually now, curious about Tonic playing on the electric piano.

Taking a vanilla folder that also laid on the table, the wolf handed it to him, with black permanent marker the words “Music Sheets” had been written on it.

“Given that you had accepted my request, for which I am very grateful, I thought I let you choose, I hope there’s something in there you like.”

Opening the bright paper, he was meet with quiet the selection.

“For how long have you been playing?”

“Well, not as long as you, but, for some time.”

Going trough the music pieces sheet by sheet he carefully looked on them, he knew most, if not all of them, phew, he had to admit it was hard to chose from, they all were-

Suddenly, the title of one caught his attention, one song, that had followed the rabbit, for a long time in his life.

The very first song he practiced when learning the piano.

“Daisy Bells”

He had not noticed that he spoke the title out loud, until Tonic responded.

“Oh a true classic, they thought a computer how to sing it or something like that.”

There were two sheets of the song, one specifically to be played on the piano, and another that had the lyrics of the song, however, Sam, without wanting to brag about it, had no need for the paper, for he knew the song by heart.

“It has been some time, but I am ready when you are general.”

Cracking their knuckles, Tonic Corner put the sheet on their e-piano, wiping away any dust, if there was any, adjusting the instrument and testing two of its keys before looking at Sam, with the rabbit admitting there was one last question he had.

“Do you want to sing the whole song, with after every verse, the refrain, or only an excerpt.”

“I say Sir, all or nothing.”

He had to admit, it had been some time that he had sung the whole song, so, that was very exciting for him.

Clearing his throat, Sam tried to find the right voice level, and when he had found it, gave the wolf a sign to start after having counted to three.

Breathing in, he was ready.

One, two, and three.

Keys were pressed and Tonic started playing.

“There is a flower within my heart, Daisy, Daisy!”

While at first singing carefully, he could feel how a warmth started to spread trough his whole body, making the singing easier and him more relaxed. They both were a good pair, there wasn’t a single bit of latency between the two, the wolf hit the notes perfectly, supporting the General silently.

Until they reached the refrain, when Sam hearing the sudden appearance of an additional voice who accompanied him trough it, there was something wholesome how they were a duet now and the rabbit could not help himself and smile closing his eyes for a moment.

“Daisy, Daisy, Give me your answer, do! I'm half crazy, All for the love of you! It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, But you'll look sweet upon the seat Of a bicycle built for two!”

He felt glad, genuinely glad and comfortable as he sang the song, together with someone, who did not make fun of his singing voice, or ridiculed it, but who enjoyed it as much as he did, and them singing along with him.

And he saw how Tonic too enjoyed themself, how the wolf raised their voice and sang every time the refrain came, filled with passion and dedication.

Even if the moments Sam visited the general store owner were usually not the longest, he had over time begun, to appreciate them, to be away for a while from all the chaos of the Wrath, Roadkillerz and whatsoever.

Singing for one last time the refrain in union, his red eyes observed Tonic Corner, smiling as they hit the keys.

Who, despite what had happened to them, trough the decades they were alive, they still found happiness. A person who showed him kindness, not caring about his past actions, and believing that there was good which resided in him. Someone, who without any hint of wanting to exploit the rabbit, called him in absolute honesty a friend.

For a moment, he felt melancholic, for the song was going to be over soon, yet the general knew and felt assured, that he could now sing around the shop vendor without feeling uncomfortable, knowing that they would enjoy and appreciate it.

As the song came to an end, their voices fading, there was a gentle smile on the generals face. Even if he was not saying it out loud, he had to admit it.

“Of a bicycle built for two!“

He too, saw Tonic as a friend.

&lt;...>

The Wrath Commander did tell them, they would going to regret for having crossed him.

Well, they did not regret it a single bit.

Despite the object being miles away from their store, they could still see it, it must be a massive construct of metal, which probably costed a lot of money, much more than they, a simple store owner had, but well, something told them, that later the machine would be nothing more than scrap metal. But right now, it still was prepared to do its intended purpose.

A doomsday device, a gigantic laser that could with a single shot, vaporizing everything that stood in its way.

With the store standing directly in the line of fire.

It came to no surprise to them, after all, they needed a field test, before once again the Wrath would try to conquer the world.

Maybe this time they would indeed succeed.

But of course, they would not witness that.

Going to the door, the shop owner was about to close it, when someone appeared in the door frame, panting and exhausted, it made them remember, the first time they had met.

“Tonic...listen, lets get out of here, I was able to convince the Commander to give you a short time of consideration….a VERY short one, so lets go.”

The rabbit pulled on the suit side of their clothing, but of course, the wolf did not move an inch, instead giving the general a warm smile.

“General, you already know my answer.”

As he turned around, he looked at them in disbelieve, perhaps also in anger and frustration.

“Do you know what it took to sway him? You can’t be serious Tonic, this is not a game! We have to go now!”

Remaining calm they went closer to the rabbit in the army uniform.

“When was it ever a game Sir?...I have said it again and again, if this store goes, so will I.”

Turning around they bit on their lip as they took an apple, brushed it off against their clothing, making it shine, giving it a final glance before putting it back to the others.

“Sir, you really should leave, I assume the grizzly bears patience is running thin.”

Having not turned around, they could hear a loud “thump” which they knew was the general having stomped on the floor, standing his ground as well.

“I will NOT leave without you Tonic...if…if you really stay here-

Tonic heard how he took a deep breath before finishing the sentence, louder than he had begun.

-then I will stay too!”

Letting out a sigh, they of course understood that sentiment and, the wolf was genuinely not surprised that he offered that, after all, the rabbit general would simply return in a day or two, and yet, it still meant so much to them, that he was ready to do it, turning around, they once again smiled at their frequent customer and friend.

“Well then general, let us celebrate the store’s closing properly, come on now, follow me to the backroom Sir.”

Despite the confident appearance of him, the northwestern wolf knew that internally their friend was shocked, not because of himself, but of course about them. He didn’t had to worry, they had a feeling, that they wouldn’t had to suffer.

And certainly, neither would he.

As both of them entered the room, Tonic gestured Sam to the old fridge they had kept for so long, they felt, how it pained their heart, what was about to happen, but, they had made up their mind and nothing would change that.

“General, would you please do me the honor, and get us a bottle of red wine from my loyal ice box.”

He gave them a simple nod, before slowly approaching the fridge, enough time, for the wolf to do something, they could not remember having done before, removing their eye patch, which they now held in their right hand, before they started to approach the rabbit, that was looking at the nearly empty appliance.

Suddenly, the ears of their friends went up, a sign, that he had noticed something was off.

“Wait a second...you told me red wine doesn’t have to be cooled.”

“I know.”

How much, it hurt them, as they raised both of their hands, and shoved the rabbit into the device, with one powerful push on his back, Sam ended up in there, and before the general could say anything, Tonic slammed the door shut, locking him into the refrigerator.

“Tonic what- LET ME OUT!!! Why are you doing this?!”

Of course they heard the banging from the inside of the fridge, placing their head on the door, guilt crept trough their whole body like a poison and as if a building was collapsing, they allowed their emotions to be free, sobbing as tears ran down their face and on the cold metal.

“I am sorry but, I can’t allow you to throw your life away, not even for a single day, and not for me. I know that the fridge will keep you safe.

Whatever the general shouted, it sounded like a blur to them, guilt spread trough their body for what they had done, but, they couldn’t bear the thought of their friend having to die because of them.

“This store is all that I have left that reminds me of them...and I am not going to give it up.”

As they were wiping away their tears, they knew it was time.

“Farewell, until we meet again, my dear friend.”

Slowly they removed their head from the vibrating metal surface, turning around, closing the room and taking another breath.

Approaching the entrance, the store owner took the sign, turning it around so that instead of “open” it now said “closed”, before leaving the door for a moment.

Going to their record player now, they knew which record they would choose and what song they wanted to hear for one last time.

Carefully they took the black disc from its cover and placed it on the machine, putting the needle slowly into the correct grooves.

With one simple and last press of the button, they saw the disk rotating, as they approached the store’s door again, looking into the outside when the song started to play:

“In the shadow of the valley I would like to settle down Wide open space Wind on my face A distant horizon The moon on the crest In the shadow of the valley That I love best”

Putting their hands behind their back, Tonic could not help but smile melancholic, right now they must look like a captain, going down with their sinking ship, well, in a way weren’t they?

Hearing the tune of the song, they hummed along, not feeling the energy to form the words to sing along and so they just, listened as they knew, it wouldn’t be long, until all would be over.

“You have always waited for me And you always will be there Sage brush and pine Old friends of mine A little bit further I’ll find my rest In the shadow of the valley That I love best”

There was a short tremor, cans and bottles were shaking for a moment, before all was quiet again, they were preparing the laser now, with the lens being adjusted one last time.

Memories started to flash before their eye, from the very first Tonic remembered, when they grew up, going to college, being a war journalist, the five years of lost freedom, reunification with their family...the incident that took the two from them, being alone …and meeting the general.

“I have wandered many places But they’re all the same to me Nowhere I found To settle down A little bit further I’ll find my rest In the shadow of the valley That I love best”

Similar to a small laser pointer, they saw the flash of red, slowly approaching them, growing bigger with each passing moment, and how the temperatures started to rise, despite knowing what was about to happen in a few moments, the wolf felt not afraid, giving the approaching and amplified light a smile, as if the shop owner was greeting it like a customer.

Once again there was shaking, but this time much stronger, with the wolf feeling it trough their bone and marrow and how a lot of their inventory started to fall down, how it shattered, got a dent or broke apart, yet, despite all of that, the wolf stood their ground, closing their eye, and exhaling the air in the lungs, for one last time.

The red light, began to engulf them and their whole store, in which they had lived and worked for many decades, there was one last thought with which they occupied themselves before it would be over.

“I will always think of the person you have become to me, my dear friend.

At least, I was able to give you something before we depart. I will never forget you Sam.”

And with that, Tonic Corner and their general store, were gone, not a single trace left, that gave the impression they ever existed in the first place.

“In the shadow of the valley That I love best”

&lt;...>

“Tonic! TONIC OPEN UP RIGH-”

Kicking against the door, a small voice told him that it was futile, but despite that, he still tried to get the fridge to open.

Why did they had to do this to him?! WHY?!

Trying to push with his trough against it, nothing happened.

Stopping for a moment, he could not stop his own thoughts from thinking about the wolf.

Did they really, care so much about him, that they could not handle the thought, that he would die alongside the wolf? Wanting to protect him for a single day, from what was happening continuously to him, because Tonic saw him as their good friend?

Groaning out in frustration Sam banged against the door again before he started to whimper.

“Tonic, please, please let me out. I want to-”

Feeling the sudden vibrations that grew stronger he stopped.

No, this couldn’t be good.

More desperately he banged at the door, shouting the name of his friend, desperately wanting to be let out to see them one last time, when he suddenly noticed how there was something in his right hand.

Looking at it closer, his red eyes grew wide open, immediately identifying what it was.

Tonic’s eye patch, which the wolf must have put into the fridge as they had pushed him inside of it.

He could feel, how his eyes turned watery, and as good as that was possible in the small appliance he was trapped into, Sam pulled his legs closer to his body, and cried, holding the memento of their friend close. As he felt one last and strong tremor.

Corner’s store was gone, and so was its keeper who he would never see again.

Wrath overcame him, mostly about his commander and what he had done, but also blaming himself, wondering if he could have perhaps done more to convince Tonic to leave the store, which now like them, was turned to atoms.

Letting out a frustrated shout he kicked one last time against the refrigerators, with all the strength he had, expecting it to resist again.

However, this time the door resigned and gave in, opening and Sam falling out of it.

As he was many feet...perhaps even miles into the air.

Despite his sadness and frustration the white rabbit screamed in pure terror as plummet quickly from the sky, with his tears being flown away by the strong resistance of the air.

He could see the ground again, growing with every second closer, still holding on the eye patch of Tonic Corner, keeping it safe in the palm of his hand, which he had formed to a fist.

Sam hoped, that it wouldn’t get destroyed on the impact, holding it near his chest, and narrowing his eyes, he really hoped, that his death would be a quick one, his day was already horrible enough with having lost a kind person he was close to.

Yet, when he fell closer to the ground, he saw, that what was his destination, looked different than the usual brownish-orange sand and the moment Samuel Cottontail realised that it was the ceiling of a car, was the very same moment he crashed trough it.

Everything hurt and he could hear a ringing in his ears, one of his eyes definitely got injured from the fall, and yet, despite the pain, he could see a moving shape that was talking to him.

The silhouette of a cat, with a cigar in their mouth.

&lt;...>

Weeks had passed before there was a funeral on short notice.

Looking into an open grave, with an empty coffin lowered slowly into the ground, with a simple gravestone, carved in was the name of their wife, son...and now their very own.

That the rain is soaking trough his fur, does not bother him at all, the white rabbit does not care, at least then, no one would see his tears or wonder why he was shaking.

However, it was unlikely that anyone would have seen him anyway, given that he was the only one attending it, there was no great speech or ceremony, just the burial and nothing more, as simple and quick as possible.

Staring at the wooden casket, he could not stop himself but letting out an expression of sorrow, he looked at the bouquet of flowers he had brought, wondering if Tonic would have liked them, there was a hint of regret, never having asked the shop owners what their favorite flowers were, as he allowed them to fall from his hand, down into the grave.

The rabbit did not know, how long he should dwell here and in the memories they shared together, in the few months in which they had known each other.

If he would stay too short, he felt that would be disrespectful...and yet, he knew he couldn’t be here forever, that’s not something Tonic would have wanted.

Feeling a lack of raindrops falling on his head, Sam looked up, and saw a large umbrella above him

“You’re going to catch your death here.”

He knew that voice all too well at this point, for they had known each other for a few weeks now, ever since he crashed into their vehicle and were brought against their will into a hospital to recover and yet, they felt surprised by their appearance.

„Blaise Owens, what are you doing here?“

Unlike as he usually knew the old cat, this time they had no cigar with them, perhaps it was too rainy, or they thought smoking on a graveyard would be inappropriate.

“Who do you think organised the funeral service?”

Seeing how it was now Blaise whose fur and funeral suit got soaked in the rain, they decided to get closer to them, so they both would be protected under the black umbrella.

“You knew them as well?”

Giving the rabbit a quick nod, they moved their head closer to Sam’s, perhaps so their voice would not be drowned out by the sound of the rain.

“We went to college together, became war journalists and met from time to time, but after...the time of imprisonment...we grew apart. I only met Tonic sparsely after that...but, I felt that it was my duty, to organise their funeral...even if it wasn’t much, but, they wanted to have it simple.”

Giving no verbal answer, Sam took one last glance into the grave, before he signalised Blaise, that he was ready to go.

As they began to walk trough the cemetery, getting closer to the gates, Sam could not help himself but wonder, turning their head to face Blaise.

“Could you tell me, something...about Tonic?”

Breathing in, the old cat gave him a familiar smile he had grown to

“What would you like to know?”

Taking a few more steps the rabbit thought about it, when a good question formed into his mind.

“How, how did you meet?”

They looked at him with surprise, before giving the rabbit a nod, ready to share their tale.

“It was on my first day in theater class, we just had introduced ourselves when ther-”

As he listened carefully to the story Blaise began to tell him, the rabbit placed his hand on the right side of chest, inside of the pocket from his shirt that he wore under his uniform, he kept Tonic’s eye patch safe and secure and close by his side.

Sam knew one thing for sure.

Even if he and the wolf had not known each other for long.

He would always remember Tonic Corner as the good friend they were to him, who believed and was convinced about one thing.

That he, was a kind person.

~~~~

"In the Shadow of the Valley" by Bing Nathan and Raun Burnham ℗ Sonoton Production Music and APM Music

Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre

#RKZ #Roadkillerz #General Snowballs #Samuel Cottontail #Commander Grizzly #RKZ OC #Roadkillerz OC #Tonic Corner RKZ #Blaise Owens RKZ #Owens family #Fan fiction #RKZ Fan fiction #Roadkillerz Fanfiction #Bowler writes #tw: death mention #TW: Blood mention #TW: Mild Gore #TW: Mild Violence #TW: Smoking #If I forgot something; please let me know #Fanfiction

[bowlerhatwearer]

Surgical Interrogation

Warnings: TW: Suicide, TW: Medial malpractice, TW: Surgical malpractice, TW:Ableism, TW: Surgery

Characters: Carlos Rojas, Commander Grizzly, The Surgeon (Lis Polarny), Blaise Owens.

Originally Written: 26th February

~~

If he would have had any skin, he probably would shudder, or at least feel cold, but given that he was a robot this was not the case. The room he sat in was very simple, a metal table, and two chairs, with one of them being occupied by him, and the other by his opponent, who was still adjusting themselves to the uncomfortable metal chair. With that the only thing noteworthy, next to the door was the “mirror”, for him it was obvious that it was a window, and behind it were probably people observing both. Looking at the person on the other end of the table he adjusted his screen that was his face, the amplitudes raising as he began to say something.

“So tell, what brings me the honour, to have our session in this luxurious room you have chosen for the both of us.”

Maybe they didn’t expect that a robot was able to have a voice that was so full of, sarcasm and cynicism but for a moment they looked up from their notepad before they let out a resigned breath.

“It was not me who made the decision where we were going to talk.”

“Of course, it wasn’t, since when did you ever.”

“Doctor-“

“It’s Surgeon.”

“You are not obligated to talk with me you know.”

“I am aware of that, however, I do find that situation amusing, as amusing as one can, sitting in an obvious interrogation room, especially given that it’s from the very same base I am working at.”

Their opponent was tapping on the notepad, before laying down their pen, which was full of scratches and biting marks.

“How about we start with something simple, can you tell me, since when are you part of the Wrath?”

That question got his attention, standing up from the chair, the surgeon pulled on his coat to straighten the folds, before looking directly into his opponents face by bowing slightly into his direction, if he could have, at this point he would’ve made a smug expression.

“I have been in the past a dutiful member. Already shortly after the Wrath had been founded when some naysayers called them a “cobbled together mercenary group” in disrespectful and belittling voices, on my card ratifying my alliance to the Wrath my membership is a single figure number.”

Leaning more forward his opponent got the feeling his screen was about to squish into his face, wondering if he should back up, however the Surgeon stopped to move one inch away before touching him.

“My superior was acting commander Carlos Rojas, whose manes colour was similar to a strong and illuminating wildfire, his fur in its brightness incomparable to any sun or star, taller than a tank as well as a charisma not even outmatched by twenty A-list celebrities, and eyes greener than any piece of jade or emerald could ever shine.”

His computer-generated voice, broke, and for a moment he closed his eyes, or rather his motion sensors that made him see, thinking back, when everything was, when it was all ok.

<…>

Despite the door being closed, the slightly muffled voice could still be heard, every soldier knew that right now was not the best time to ask the commander a question or perhaps give him a message, the only person next with him in the room knew that.

“Absolutely unacceptable…”

The Surgeon looked at his left hand

“How could they just do that-“

Then to his right one, moving them slowly

“If I could, I would have personally-“

Maybe he needed some oil

“The worst of all-“

Or perhaps some of his pneumatic or hydraulic tubes needed to be replaced.

“Are you listening to me?!”

His commanders voice sounded infuriated with a hint of annoyance, but the robotic surgeon knew that his anger, was not directed at him.

“Commander, I can feel, that your emotions have been, deeply affected, by this sudden change of course, however I do believe it is my duty to remind you-“

Rising from the in dark blue fabric covered sofa where moments ago the commander sat as well, he looked up at his taller superior.

“-the occurring events we had just witnessed merely seconds ago, are nothing more than fictional happenings from a television show, a, to be honest, cheaply made soap opera.”

The Commander looked at his with sharp eyes, as if the lion tried to look trough his, non-existent soul before slightly wrinkling up his nose.

“It’s a telenovela, there is a great different Surgeon, I can’t believe they killed my favourite character off like that, Rosa how could they have done that to you?!”

Tapping on his left shoulder slightly, even if he didn’t understand the ruckus, the Surgeon did try to give the commander solace.

“Now, now commander, the chances that she might come back one day are nearly 25 percent.”

“You don’t know that…”

“Characters who usually die in such…unique ways like hers, tend to come back through either easily explainable, or complicated ways.”

“She was slain by a pineapple, what an absolute disgrace to her performance.”

If he could let out a sigh, he would do now, he respected his superior of course, but sometimes he was an enigma to him.

“Commander, I still fail to understand why you have such an, emotional response over the death of a character.”

That for a moment he considered to add “pointless” to the sentence was quickly suppressed, the last time Rojas did “enlighten” him about hundreds of reasons why one of the many side characters of this soap- telenovela were important. For now, his commander was going around him in circles, with a voice sounding like a teacher, who is putting their pupil right.

“Of course, you don’t Surgeon, after all you haven’t, like I did, watched the series from the very beginning.”

Why wasn’t he surprised.

“By all due respect commander but I need to protest, just because I haven’t watched the first hundred episodes from a show that by now has over 14000 doesn’t mean I have not followed the story, I have used, free time, to inform myself trough summaries and used up precious memory of my data storage. Memory I could have used to safe information on new surgical techniques, instead used to analyse this fictional production. There are the minds of a thousand doctors and a thousand more surgeons in my memory.”

Rojas was about to say something new, an objection he was sure would make the Surgeon see his way and how good this show really was, but just in that moment the alarm, in its loud and cracking tone like tactful thunder interrupted him. Souring the commanders mood even more who bit now on his lip.

“Of all the, it doesn’t take much to guess who dares to interrupt my marathon.”

Following the commander a few steps behind, they both went down the same corridor, however their way would split soon. The Surgeon observed his superior, his leader, the purple coat how it folded with every move, the boots making their typical clanking sound on the floor.

“I believe that will make the Racuchy I have prepared for you redundant commander.”

“Put them in the fridge, I will warm them up later, prepare yourself, who knows what he has planned this time.”

They have had fought each other lots of times, often with no clear winner, it was skirmishes at their finest, with him having to threat the injured in the aftermath of the battles, with how often by now he has witnessed them, the surgeon did call them from time to time “date”, as teasingly as his robotic voice allowed that.

“So what will it be this time commander, chocolate, roses or perhaps sitting with the dear general in a gondola under the shining moonlight whilst you listen to the wonderful voice of the gondolier?”

Hearing Rojas grunt in annoyance and frustration, was something the Surgeon appreciated only, when it was because he teased his commander a little. The lion squinted before rolling his eyes , then speaking to the robot again.

“I thought about ambushing and locking him up in a safe before dropping it down in a gorge never to be seen again, but no matter what I do, he always comes back!”

“As if he was from some sort of cartoon.”

With the last words being said, their ways split, Rojas, about to lead his troops into battle, the Surgeon preparing to take care for the soon to be injured.

<…>

“That was, what we usually did, if time allowed it of course, it was not often, but a nice change of the daily work…what.”

Opening his sensors again he could see their opponent, this old cat smiling before letting out a cough and their hoarse voice began to say something

“Nothing, really, it’s just, strange to hear that a robot is cooking, you said you prepared, Racuchy, right?”

“Correct, Rojas liked it too, as far as my memory goes, cooking here and there his own meals, if time allowed it. You wouldn’t believe the arguments he had with one of the cooks or when I attempted to make my fist Mousse of Chocolate and I put hotsauce in it because I believed it would “spice thinks up”, you should have seen Roj-

He stopped, from one moment to another all emotion that appeared in his voice, gone, all was back to normal. There was silence, neither of the two was moving, neither the Surgeon nor the person on the other end of the table.

“That, of course changed, when it happened, other would call it some name, give this date something to remember it, but what good does that do…”

“But if you remember it, then what do you call it?”

He looked distant, away from the old cat as if he was no longer here, but somewhere entirely else.

“Simple, ‘The Day’, nothing more.”

<…>

It was quiet, too quiet, not that he didn’t appreciate it, after all as a surgeon he needed his concentration, even if the robot only typed some data into a computer (which he thought was somehow ironic, a machine using another machine) but usually when it was this, calm, something was about to happen, usually something bad if it wasn’t the soldiers preparing some surprise party, which also, usually ended in disaster.

Next to him where two tickets, he knew that the chances that his superior, the commander had time was small, but he hoped that Rojas had a small window open to go see with him, for what the tickets where needed for, the surgeon was certain that his commander would appreciate the show. It had been too long that he had any entertainment, that was not his soa- telenovela Carlos Rojas watched in his free time and the Surgeon often accompanied on the couch. But right now, the commander was absent, on an important mission, away from the base, probably returning any second now and the Surgeon could ask him if he was interested in one of the tickets.

The moment the robot was about to type another word, an alarm went off, not the usual that with its loud ringing announced an enemy attack, but another, one that sounded more like wailing, lamenting in sadness and pain, the alarm that basically said that something really, serious had happened and the Surgeons assistance was required ASAP.

Quickly they hopped away from their chair and office table, and although running was not really something he was created for, he increased his walking speed as good as that was possible, following the corridor that would bring him to the entrance of the base, soldiers were running left and right around, confused, shocked, as if they all were trying to process some great calamity that had befallen them all. He didn’t like that; he didn’t like that at all. If he had a lip, he would have bitten on it, but all he could do was nervously clench his claws together.

When he reached the roomy lobby, it was stuffed with soldiers, who appeared even more anxious and perplexed than the ones before, something had worn down their moral hard. From left to right they talked and shouted as if the end of the world happened before their eyes, that someone had shot a nuclear warhead into their direction was an option the Surgeon discarded, that was very unlikely, a different alarm would have sounded for that and- argh, he couldn’t concentrate with everyone talking and their volume increasing due of their panic. Some of them shouting that they needed his help.

Raising their claw, so that everyone could see it, he decided to increase his volume.

“Would everyone in this room just calm down!”

That seems to have done the trick, it was quiet, awfully, and uncomfortable silent.

He didn’t like that; he didn’t like that at all.

“You- “he randomly pointed at one of the soldiers, who tried his best to stand at attention.

“- tell me the cause of this.” Waving his hand at the direction of the groups of soldiers.

Startled by being chosen they stuttered a few letters before the soldier calmed themself by taking a breath before looking down at the tiled floor.

“There, there was an attack the Commander led the counteroffensive when...he’s gone.”

Before the Surgeon could process the sentence completely his body had already moved forward, with his screen being bowed above the soldiers head aggressively.

“What? What do you mean with gone?”

“An explosion, there was an explosion I think and, there’s not much left of-“

No, this wasn’t true, there were, countless of other explanations, they must have been wrong.

They all, must have been wrong to think that Commander Carlos Rojas was-

One of the other soldiers tugged on his coat, faster than he should have he turned around.

By now the robotic surgeon had his claws pressed against each other, he was sure to soon have reached their breaking point and the metal of claws would snap like a toothpick.

The soldier held a jar, and for a moment the Surgeon thought that for some reason they offered him a condolence pickle.

But whatever was pickled into this glass, with its green liquid was no plant , vegetable or whatever in that range.

It was a brain, floating together in the glass with an eyeball, both without any sign of life.

He knew what this suggested, and despite the fact that a small part of his processor already began to scream, the Surgeon ignored it, letting out a hollow laugh.

“How foolish, of you all to think, this, is the Commander-“

Taking the jar from the Soldier he held it close to his mechanic body, raising the glass to the level of his screen.

“The chances are high, that those are merely the remains of some enemy soldier-“

Programming and tools implemented in him began to awake, activating different software to analyse the brain, but most importantly the eye, going through his database.

“-and surely, our Commander is alive and well, probably hidden in a trench, stained, perhaps injured and most likely his dignity getting a scratch, but there is no chance that THIS-“

The tools were finished doing their work, all software, all programming, and all data brought the same conclusion and displayed it in his electronic mind.

“Analysis concluded; visual organ matches to 99,9% that of Carlos Rojas.”

“- the Commander.”

How quiet his voice had turned, did the people surrounding him even hear what he had said?

The mighty lion, reduced to nothing more than a brain and one floating eyeball.

“What am I supposed to do?”

<…>

Wary did his claws tab on the surface of the table that reflected his face, as if it was glass instead of metal.

“Of course, the, the Eggheads began working on a plan to save him.”

The cat who set on the opposite had at this point lightened themself a cigar, the bluish-grey smoke rising into the air, before dissolving, after another puff they took the cigar out of their mouth.

“And you where, instantly on board, with, what they came up with?”

Like the smoke the questioned lingered for a while in the room and the cat wondered if they had to repeat themself.

The surgeon at first only shook his head.

“No-“it came after another short pause.

“-my duty is…was, as a surgeon to perform surgeries that safe lives, however, I am…I was equipped with moralistic and ethical boundaries, you know, to ensure that, what I was doing was to help people.”

“…did someone deactivate them so you could do the procedure, to safe the Commander?”

He looked down, at the table, he didn’t feel well, to speak out what he was thinking, but another part of him felt like it was important, to say it out loud, he could feel the voices starting to raise themselves, but for now they were still too quiet to affect him.

“No, I, deactivated them myself.”

<…>

He tries to ignore them, all of them, how they stood there, some walking with him, the voices, they were everywhere.

“You have to-“

“It’s our only chance-“

“Please we-“

Group dynamic at its finest, in this case, of panic and what a part of him would have liked to call hysteria by now, he just wanted them all to shut up. So many of them talking, their voices turning just into an entangled ball of words.

The surgeon understood them of course, this was a heavy blow for them, a part of his mind felt sympathy for the soldiers who tried to tell him to do it.

But no, no matter what, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, mustn’t do it, it would go against everything he was created for.

The voices, those forces on the outside trying to make him reconsider, it was too much.

“Be silent!”

His own voice, overpowering the many

Finally.

Grabbing the handle to the door that leads to his office he puts his screen on the surface.

“I need-“

It’s quiet, he doesn’t know if that’s any better than when there was noise.

“-I need time to think.”

With that he opens the door, and as quickly closes it as soon as he’s in, locking it up so that he really would be unbothered.

As soon as he sat into his chair the first thought began to float into his mind.

What was he going to do?

There was of course his medical expertise, which told him the facts plainly.

All hope was lost, Commander Rojas was death.

However, there were other considerations as well.

The eggheads came quicker than he would have expected, would have liked, to a solution for the problem the Wrath faces.

And for that they needed his help.

Which he couldn’t do.

It was not possible.

For the only way to save the Commander, was to sacrifice another persons life.

And that was not an option.

Literally, his programming wouldn’t allow it.

In an act of self-initiative, the Wrath soldiers were able to captured someone, they talked about him.

Something, something involved in the whole thing that resulted in the commander being nothing more than a brain and one eye.

Which was now sitting on his desk, in a jar, pickled in some green fluid for it to be preserved.

The Surgeon, if he could, and really wished right now to do so, would have let out a sigh.

He went through his mind and processing, calculating what now would happen now that Rojas would be no more.

His central processing unit was not really designed for him to be some kind of supercomputer that could predict and solve some complex questions, but he was certain that the hardware of his would be able to solve this.

With Rojas gone, another commander would be needed to replace him, however, there was the problem, whilst there had been subordinates, the Commander never had chosen a clear successor, or at least none the Surgeon was aware of.

That alone might already cause the problem that a vacuum of power could happen, which could lead to infighting in the Wrath, ergo the soldiers and other staff would split apart because they all have different preferences in who should be their new leader. This again would result in the Wrath either way splitting apart, causing a civil war OR with the Wrath being dissolved.

All three of the options would lead to the same, the Wrath never again reaching the strength to be the organization it is right now or becoming even stronger in the future.

It was a horrid thought, and not an option for the Surgeon.

Maybe he should try becoming the leader, the thought was immediately deleted from his database as soon as it came up.

Not a valid option either.

Looking at the jar with the commanders remains in his, he carefully touched it with one of his claws.

What would be the commanders wish? What would he want?

The surgeon cursed himself, for having neglected to talk with the Commander about this.

His body was important for him, and now most of it was gone.

Would he accept a new one would-

He stopped himself, he was really considering it, was he not?

1999 voices in his database and memory storage told him that it was against every information they have been spliced with, to do it.

And one, a whisper, telling him it was the only option they had left.

But, the limitations, the boundaries, the restrictions he was made for, to ensure to safe peoples lives, not to take them, one must not take a persons life, to safe another in a surgery. He was programmed to view all life equally. Ally and enemy alike. Operating on them first who had more sever, life threatening injuries. But one life must not be taken, to safe another in such instances.

He saw it before his inner eyes, tree switches, each one of them labelled differently.

“Ethics”, “Morals”, “Emotions”

The first one that was switched off was the one holding the ethical boundaries.

For the first time, the Surgeon believed to have felt something that when going through his knowledge, could only be described as pain.

Pressing his claws together he hit his screen in the shock on the office table, not hard but enough to make a sound.

So that was gone, the question about ethics was now out of the picture, he didn’t had to worry about this anymore. Two more to go.

The next switch that got pulled down before his internal view was the one responsible for his moral boundaries. All the restrictions that came with it, what he never was allowed to do to a pati- a subject, were now gone.

All that was left now where his emotions, and those where in total chaos in what just had happened.

One part wanted to desperately laugh about the weight of this situation, another cry with how far they have taken it, there was anger about himself and the others, happiness that they were one step closer in saving their commander and lastly emptiness, a void that began to spread over slowly, taking with it all the other emotions.

He stood up, not giving the jar another glance for now but he did take it with him when opening the door again, meeting the soldiers and others who were still gathered around his office, he believed their numbers might have increased, but wasn’t sure, as soon as he stepped out, they all went quiet, as if it was some sort of news conference.

Well, in some way it was.

They all looked, concerned, was it because of suspense, what he was about to say?

Was it how he looked, has he changed by taking down two of the three levers already?

“I have made a decision-“

This voice, it sounded so hollow to him now, was it even his own anymore?

“-the surgical procedure will be executed.”

There were a few whispers, they sounded, positive, but grew quiet when he made claw that there was still something else, he had to say.

"All ethical and moralistic boundaries have been deactivated for this one surgery, what happens after it is on you, you will bear the consequences of my actions."

With that being said, the lever of his emotions got pulled down as well, it felt like as if a thunderbolt struck into his head, directly into his mind, shattering the firmly collected mind into a thousand shards and pieces, all going quiet, leaving behind only the surgical and medical information that was in his storage medias and databases.

What he once thought and felt, it was all gone.

Only logic and knowledge remained.

The surgeon left the group behind with what he has just said, already walking towards the operating room with the jar in his claws.

When he opened the door, all was nearly dark, so he turned the light switch on so his visual sensors could see.

There was one subject on the operating table, tied down to prevent redundant movement or attempts of escape.

The subject, Ursidae, did say something, but there was no reason to listen to any of the words he spoke out in increased volume.

They were unimportant for the surgery.

Irrelevant for what was about to happen.

Trivial

As a robotic surgeon he was also equipped with the information needed to properly reassure patients before the surgery.

An anaesthetist was not required.

Taking the gas bottle with the narcotics he opened the valve generously.

Enough to neutralise a horse.

Without a thought, re-examination, or anything else he put the mask that emitted the gas on the bears muzzle who attempted to protest and fight in vain.

Picking up the increasing violent movement, that could do nothing to break the belts that hold the patient on the table, the surgeons protocol set in. With the free claw he pressed the bear firmly on the table before a robotic, emotionless, and recorded voice started to appear.

“Do not resist.”

The movement of the subject grew more frantic.

“Do not resist.”

More desperate, his eyes looking for any compassion in the robot

“Do not resist.”

There were none

“Do not resist”

The bears movement grew slower, then it finally stopped.

“Anaesthesia was successfully applied, starting now with surgery.”

It was near silent now, only a single sound echoed through the room.

A sound of danger, one where there was no reversal from.

The screech of a quickly activated bone saw, moving closer to the bears head.

<…>

His opposite judged him; he knew that there was no reason to look up. The cat was now by his fourth cigar since this “interview” had started, the cigar was nearly depleted, they didn’t say anything for a while, just writing down on their notepad, the robot thought that perhaps now this, session, was over, but then they dropped the pen on the table, looking directly at his screen.

“You said, if I get this right, that you deactivated those, restrictions, yourself, so I wonder-“

They, take a long pull from the cigar, before filling the room with more smoke

“-couldn’t you just have, simply reactivated them?”

Of course, he should have known that this question would come.

All he can do is let out a chuckle, as good as a robot can do, as he can do, bitter and sarcastic.

“It was the very first thing I tried to do after it was over but-“

His claws cramp on the tabletop and the Surgeon is sure that there is a small dent in there now.

“-it just wouldn’t work, it was like a-“

Yeah, what was it like?

“- a light switch, that when I tried to turn in on again, it would, but only for a short moment, I mean not even in the range of seconds more like-“

There was another pause, the best he could do to imitate a breath, or perhaps a sigh.

“-picoseconds…it would always go dark again, it always does.”

He couldn’t sit any longer, he needed to move, more than just his claws, this constant sitting did no good to his inner workings.

Slowly he rose, walking away from his chair, and then slowly around the table, thinking.

“Only later, I don’t know when, did I inform myself about who I just…robbed from their life.”

“You mean, the bear, Jude Valentine?”

His legs froze, not by his command, they just did.

It was strange, to hear the name spoken out by someone else.

“Affirmative, a soldier, enemy soldier, from the rank of a private. The details are lost to me, but our soldiers captured him, shortly after Commander Rojas…loss of mass.”

The last word lingers for a while, then it is calm again, they are now writing on their notebook, just sitting there, thinking.

It makes the Surgeon nervous, the more there is silence, there more he knows that this cats mind is ticking and clicking, their brain cells connection, working on something, it makes him twitchy.

“Was it so easy, to deactivate those restrictions because it was an emergency, Surgeon, or was it so easy because the person you, connected Carlos Rojas brain with, was an enemy soldier, a normal cadet. Can you answer me that?”

He thinks for a while, and the more the robot thinks, the more he concludes that this is a stupid question, and it makes him not unsettling, no something else, he turns around, his monitor flashing, as if he tries to give an angry glare.

“What sort of question is this supposed to be, I think I know when or why I deactivate my restrictions and emotions!”

They don’t give him time to retort, no, there are too many, strings of data flooding up that need to be processed now. There is something that greatly, disturbs him by this specific question and how it is worded, but he doesn’t know why, neither does he know what he is going to answer.

“Jude Valentine was an enemy soldier, no matter what rank or position, he was one of many, he was meant, from the moment he enlisted or was drafted or whatever, to be replaceable- “

He considers flipping the table.

“You want to know who the real victims are in war, how about some enlightenment, feline.”

They don’t respond, so he takes that as a yes, a silent approval.

“It’s the civilians, those who have to flee where they once lived because bombs and grenades are about to hit them, who have to sleep, always in the fear to be hit by mortal shelling, who have to accommodate and assimilate to the new place where they are going to live, now that their country is no longer theirs, who get stabbed in the back by those they called friends in this new lands, for daring to question their system!”

Despite the outburst, the table remains unmoved, so does the cat, they just sit there, interesting, he really thought they would call for some guards. But all they do is taking another pull from their cigar. He wonders if they even listened to him.

They take a breath, then the cat sits back in the chair, appearing, calm.

“What happened after the surgery?”

He concluded that asking them if they did listen what he just said did not matter, he said what he had to say and his opposite did acknowledge it, probably. So, he sat down again, this time looking at the cat who took out another cigar.

“What you already know. Commander Grizzly came into charge. General Cottontail joined the Wrath. New recruits joined; some others left. The telenovela got cancelled, the Racuchy, rotted away, long forgotten and untouched in the fridge and the tickets expired. Everything turned back to normal-“

He looks at the lightbulb, the light is yellow, it should be warm, most of the energy of a lamp was wasted on heat energy, instead of illumination, yet, he still felt cold, he shouldn’t feel like that, the temperature it shouldn’t be possible.”

“-everyone except, me of course. Focusing now mostly on my work, except for some light maintenance I secluded myself from the rest of the base, if I was not in my office, I was in the operation room and vice versa. I did as I was instructed, I did was I was constructed for I did as I was intended to work.”

His claws do not move.

“I more and more succumbed to madness on the inside, on the outside I was what I was always intended to be, a robotic surgeon. With Carlos Rojas gone, there was no real reason to have emotions anymore.”

He nudged his head, looking back at the table that reflected his face, it was a bit blurry.

“Excuse me but Carlos Rojas is here, he is C-“

Bitterness collects itself in his throat

“No he isn’t, at least, not as he was before.”

The next words, he wants to say, feel like corrosive bile to him.

“I was no longer able to recognize the Commander, who was once the reason I joined these forces, the one I used to work with, the one I used to take orders from, the one I used to talk and banter with.”

His opposite takes the cigar out, allowing the ash to fall on the floor, using the silence to speak.

“And it continued like this?”

“Of course, people started to notice that something has changed with me, however I negated these questions, later I didn’t respond to them anymore and started to avoid any approaches from, anyone. I got memos from different parts of the Wrath, wanting to talk, the personnel department for example, I, ignored all of them. Only responding to Emergencies anymore.”

He scratches on the table with his claws, more and more of his reflection disappearing under the now fresh scratches on the metal.

“When I was not operating I tried to use my time to look back on former surgeries, re-evaluating them, searching for ways to improve, then I also began to sort my folders, to archive them more efficient, sweeping my office and cleaning the mirror, when I was finished with that I began to do things that one might see as trivial, Sorting my pens from the largest to the smallest, counting how many staples I had left in my stapler, making airplanes out of printer paper, bending a straightened paper clip to its original form.”

He had to look at them, to see what they were thinking, right now, their expression surprised them, they didn’t look bored, but interested, in what he had said, and wanting him to continue.

“I did all of this so I didn’t have had to, power myself off, from time to time I had to do that to clean the cache, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t function properly…however, I didn’t want to go into Stand-by-mode because, every time I did, I saw…him.”

“Commander Rojas?”

He shakes his head.

“No, the bear, Jude Valentine, judging me.”

Using his claws he adjusts his monitor, before looking at the cat again.

“But it didn’t help, this, problem, this glitch grew worse, I began to see him not only when I was in sleep mode, but also when I was activated, noise, voices began to appear too, not the bears, one that came from my own memory storage. Until a day would where I would reach my breaking point. And that day came.”

Looking at them began to hurt, so it was the table surface again.

“Commander…Grizzly, at one point had the idea to award me a medal, for, saving “his” life, I think he did it because he knew I couldn’t refuse this honour, so that I HAD to talk with him and also, maybe to raise my “mood”. However, with this approaching date, things went worse. And then the day was here, sooner than I had hoped for.”

<…>

That was not how it should be, all of this was so sudden.

All of this was wrong.

Looking at the clock in his office, he just grew more tense.

In 30 minutes the “Commander”, would personally come for him.

Going together to the ceremony where he “Commander Grizzly” as he was called, would award him personally a medal.

For “saving” his life.

It made him sick.

He didn’t want this, he never asked for this.

In the corner of his sensors, he could see him, this shadow, at this point the robot could no longer say when they started to appear, that bear, the one he used to safe his former commander.

All in vain, a life destroyed for nothing, Commander Rojas was gone, there was only this “Commander Grizzly” now.

Was this a joke, no, it was torture, it was his own personal punishment, for going against everything he was created for.

And the little bear he used for that, knew that.

That is why he was here, watching, observing him.

But always staying mute.

Why should he talk, the Surgeons inner voices of his programming already did their part to destroy him.

“Your fault.” “Going against the principles.” “An act of blasphemy against all doctors and surgeons.”

This and many more, was what quietly began to creep into his inner parts of his processors, starting to take over ever command and query. Only with great difficulty was he still able to continue his work.

He didn’t notice how he stood up, slowly walking towards the mirror of his office, even slower looking into it.

It wasn’t his “face”, his monitor that has been always there since the day he was activated.

No, it was a bear that looked back at him, the one he knew too well.

With no eyes, and blood everywhere and the mouth wide open for a muted scream.

At him, against him, always his fault.

He just wanted it to be gone, all gone.

In his frustration, his left claw clenched, before striking against the mirror, smashing it to a thousand pieces.

Even himself, he wanted to be gone.

It was not the first time the thought had come into his mind, to initiate a self-inflicted, forced shut down.

But not it felt the strongest and with the nearing ceremony, no way to turn back.

It was the only way, the only solution, to end it all, to have peace and silence.

Never to be confronted by this shadow, or his voices ever again.

It would all be over soon.

The scalpel on the office table was useless, protocols and implemented rules prevented him to use medical tools against himself, was whoever wrote those lines, aware that this scenario might happen?

However, a foreign sharp object, that certainly was not implemented, a loophole, one to free him from his misery once and for all.

Carefully, yet still with haste he analysed all the glass shards until he found a sufficient one, that was still stuck in the frame of the mirror. He took it out, making sure not to break it any further, before with a simple pull, it was in his possession. For a moment he examined the shard, so that would be the tool, the corpus delicti of his own action and decision.

He was a machine now, he was replaceable.

No one would miss him.

And with one strong and violent movement, he felt the shard penetrating the weak sheet metal, that protected his inner cables and tubes from being twisted or damaged, compared to a person, it was his “throat” he had just stabbed.

Like clockwork it continued from him then on, there was not much thought except the commands that made him move his claw that held the shard, like a can opener around his throat, cutting and separating more and more the connection between his body and monitor.

All of this would be over soon, how strange, it felt, as if there was a hint of euphoria in his thoughts, as if he was, happy, that this was going to be the end of his existence. Certainly, a few months ago he thought his end would be that he simply would, case to function, or to be outdated, but deactivating himself in such a way, that would have sounded, illogical back then.

Now it was reality, as he cut against one of the pneumatic tubes, feeling and hearing the hiss the compressed air made as it escaped. A pop-up on his inner screen gave him the warning that the air pressure of the pneumatic systems was lowering to a small degree for reasons the programming couldn’t understand.

He ignored that message.

How would it be, once he shuts down, after all he was a machine, a robot, with the memories of a thousand doctors, and a thousand more surgeons. Would it be like shutting down a computer, after its work was finished? Well, even if it was only a secondary idea, in some, cruel way his forced shut down was also an experiment, was it not?

By now he was more than halfway through, cutting his “throat”, some of the cables were also damaged due of how crude he was cutting, it was after all no scalpel or surgical knife he used, but that was not the goal of this “self-operation”. All those other voices could scream whatever they wanted, now they didn’t matter, and soon, they would never again. Not even the pop-ups who begged for maintenance, that someone would check upon the robot, could do anything to stop him from what he was doing to himself. Messages about how power was slowly lost, the water dripping from the hydraulic tubes into the cables, chips, and boards. It mattered not, it mattered nothing.

The sudden knocking at the door made him come to an abrupt halt.

“Surgeon? Surgeon are you here?”

It was the sound of the one who called himself “Commander”.

Oh no, NO!

With difficulty he moved his head to look at the clock in his room.

A Quarter, there was still a quarter of an hour left!

The monitor that was his face flickered.

“I know we have still fifteen minutes, but I thought why not set ahead the ceremony?”

The shock together with the software and programs thinking set too deep than to answer, the conclusion was made to cast aside all remaining rational and logical thinking.

Both claws jammed on each end of the monitor, pushing upwards with all the power, energy, and strength this robot was created to eject if necessary.

“Surgeon? Is everything alright? Surgeon??!”

This voice, of a man that should no longer exist, who DID no longer exist, grew concerned. The knob of the door was twisted each time with more strength and impatiently. The foresight to lock the door, was now a blessing, or so a few rushed thoughts that escaped the panic mode he was in told him. Not that it mattered in any way anymore.

It must end, all of it, the voices inside of him, the sounds from the outside, the vision, all, had to stop.

The mechanical arms begged him to stop, it felt like as if the tubes where about to burst, working on overdrive to pump more water and air through the system. More and more messages appeared on his internal systems, Warnings and Errors, flooding the inner screen. Telling him that everything was in some way damaged and had to be repaired immediately if a system crash and a Random-Access Memory loss should be prevented. There was no guarantee that his system, with each pull getting more desperate, could access the backup drives in time. There was no assurance that the RAID systems could do their work, should one of the drives in his systems get damaged beyond repair.

One last sound of creaking metal, then a short snap, and he could feel how he had separated his head from the body, now only a few cables and tubes held him together, it was time to change that.

“Don’t worry Surgeon, I’m, I’m getting you out of there!”

An interesting thought, that an enigma like that, would try to help him, but help from what, his decision was clear, there was no need to aid in preventing the now inevitable.

No, all that he could feel now was hate, self-loathing and disgust with what HE had done, to go completely against and violate every ethical and moralistic rule, to have shut-off his emotions he no longer could feel. He, he was to blame. No one else. This was his doing, and only his, and it was HIS to end it all, here and there.

Metallic laughter, hollow and without emotion echoed from the cracking and glitching screen, that with each passing one, grew more louder and with static.

“This, is what I deserve, ruining one person’s whole LIFE, it only equals to ruin MINE.”

His own voice echoed through the room, as if others were repeating it, with each echo it sounded different, maybe it where the other voices, repeating, agreeing to what he was doing.

He could hear stomping, running, towards the door of his office.

“This is what I deserve”-

With all his might that remained in the robotic body, the surgeon pulled on his head, the cables began started to snap, the tubes couldn’t hold any longer on their connections and releases themselves from the monitor, snapping back to the rest other part of the body, releasing the rest of their air and spluttering water as if it was blood.

At about the same time, when head and body got separated, the door to the Surgeons office was smashed open, with no tool, or help from others, but solely by the force of Commander Grizzly, who ran into the door with all his strength after taking a run up. With his face slightly bruised and a few splinters, he looked up, to see the end.

“-this is what YOU deserve!”

With the energy that remained in the head used up, it went dark quickly, all that remained was a near silent sound of whirring of the ventilators whose rotors were still moving. Slowly the claws released themselves from the monitor, letting it fall on the cold and unmoving floor, where the screen cracked because the glass fell directly on the concrete.

Almost as gallant as a ballerina did the rest of the body shut down, the legs kneeled, before the balance was lost and it fell on its side, laying there without any motion before the last ventilator stopped propelling. The glass shard still grasped in the Surgeons motionless claw.

For the moment, all was quiet.

<…>

The air is so, oppressive, as if causing a knot in his throat. Which by all means didn’t make any sense, he couldn’t even breath! Before he can realize it himself his own claws are there, scratching around the connection that has been put together again with a weld seam. All those memories flooding, overloading his central processing unit.

The Surgeon does not notice it, but his opposite does, the one who leads the whole interview, the screen of the robot flickers, there are some, clearly not normal spasm as more and more violently the claws appear to, trying to rip away the welding seam. As the cat opens their mouth, the cigar falls out, the smoke that was inside of them did not. In their attempt to call out to the Surgeon, all the journalist manages to do is accidently inhaling the smoke again, resulting in an aggressive and heavy coughing fit. For a moment they wonder if that’s going to be the end, seeing already stars when their lung starts to calm down. Not the only things as the cat notices, when one of the claws is placed gently on his shoulders.

“I have to say Owens, if you continue with this habit, you might see the radishes from below sooner than you wish for. But I appreciate for snapping me out from my thoughts.”

Taking a few more breaths, arms stretched on the edges of the tables as they inhaled the air deeply into their body, they look up to the Monitor of the robot, that by now has returned to normal. A new question formed in Blaise Owens mind.

“What?”

“Seeing the radishes from below? Ah you know, an old saying like being six feet underground or pushing up the daisy and so on.”

The pleasure of smoking had vanished like its smoke, allowing the cigar to glimmer on the metal table, they decided to continue with their interview.

“Moving on, so after your, suici-“

“Deactivation, one who kills themselves, does not return.”

“I disagree, but anyways, after your deactivation, what happened then?”

“Well, nothing, really, apparently, they moved my body in the cellar, until I got repaired and reactivated.”

“And why did they put you in commission again?”

The Surgeons robotic body slumped slightly, one of his claws stretching out whilst the monitor looked to the left.

“Eh, apparently the Commander needed a capable Surgeon, for a rather, in my opinion, trivial and unimportant surgery. And for some reason he trusted me more than any other capable Surgeon.”

For a short moment Blaise Owens knocked with their pen on the table, when it stopped, they asked a question, hoping to get an answer from the Surgeon from.

“But wouldn’t you say that this is proof that Commander Grizzly IS Carlos Rojas, if he could have asked a random surgeon but chose you, is that not a sign that he is still the Commander you knew?”

The old journalist had closed his eyes when finishing the sentence, worrying that the robot who sat on the opposite of him, would perhaps get angry, instead he sat still. As if he is waiting for the question to settle.

“Have you ever heard of the Ship of Theseus; it is a thought experiment.”

“Can’t say I have.”

“For simplicity let me explain it this way. You have a ship on a journey, that over the time needs its parts replaced, when the journey is over, every part of the Ship has been replaced, not one original part remained.”

“I-I think I know what you mean but I am-“

“Commander Carlos Rojas body has been, replaced to a major part with that of someone else, so can this, new Commander, still be called Carlos Rojas, however, should they be called Commander Grizzly, given that it is Rojas mind that is active. Is it the Ship? Is it not? Are they some sort of Hybrid?”

Blaise had to admit, that he didn’t have an answer to that question, but the Surgeon never awaited one in the first place.

“I regret it, I really do. If I somehow could, change my actions, I wouldn’t hesitate to do so.”

“So you feel guilty about your actions?”

Throwing his claws up into the air the voice of the surgeon grew full with static, however, the increase of volume was not meant to be taken, that he was angry at Blaise Owens, but rather a release, to say what has been on his mind.

“YES! I feel deep remorse for what I did…sometimes I wonder If it was all worth it.”

He falls back into the metal chair, that makes a quiet groan of protest in response.

“Will I ever be able to make it up to him, change what my surgery has caused. Will he ever forgive me for what I have done to him and his body?”

For some reason, it felt for Blaise as if the look was now more, sad, despite having remained completely the same.

“Any more questions?”

“Yes- there is something else I have been wondering about through our interview.”

It was now Blaise who stood up, walking around the table, more in thought than before.

“You see, you have talked now about feeling guilty and remorse of your actions. You told me how you were able to, deactivate your emotional, moralistic, and ethical boundaries all by yourself. And that example, about having gotten stabbed by someone close to you, sounded rather personal.”

They stand before the robot, who still has not said anything, just waiting, for Blaise Owens to finish they were talking about.

“So, I was wondering Surgeon, if there is more than just a robot on the screen.”

<…>

The pillow is comfy, it is white, with a simple cloth as it was expected in every hospital bed. There were no colours or pattern on it. All it was, was a pillow, like hundreds, no, thousands of pillows as they existed on the whole wide world. Perhaps tens of thousands would be a better number.

The pillow was the only thing he could feel, for the rest of his body no longer listened to any command his brain ordered or would have loved to command.

One violent movement, a stab between the last cervical, and the first thoracic vertebra, a precise stab that every physician would have been proud of, if it would have been for a surgical procedure and not to injure someone out of spite, especially if the attacker was someone you trusted.

He never would have thought that this would be his end, being in the prime with his career, bound for the rest of his life to a bed, unable to move anything except his head with great effort. Well, if he was lucky, maybe some hospital bug would put him out of his forced existence of doing nothing and put in involuntary early retirement from his profession.

A renowned Neurosurgeon, damned to this state.

What an absolute disgrace.

There was at least one positive outlook from this, his “dear” colleague who had put him to involuntary bed rest, would for the rest of his life stay in a madhouse.

Eh, he was gaining nothing from it, it wouldn’t magically heal him after all, so maybe that wasn’t so positive as he thought it was.

It was the sound of the doors handle being pressed, that caught his attention, it was either way a nurse with a bedpan, a doctor looking for his wellbeing or-

“Ah, this looks like to be the correct room.”

“Sure, as you have said the last two times.”

“Oh hush.”

A visitor, or rather two given the short exchange of words, whilst the first one, had a more positive sounding voice, the other sounded rather flat, neutral, or perhaps more down to earth, however both of them sounded rather masculine.

“First of all, who are you and second, leave.”

He was not interested to have some company, especially from some people whose voices he couldn’t recognize, he really hoped it where not some journalists, trying to ask him about the accident aka murder attempt on him.

“Looks like we can go.”

“Not so fast, maybe this fella might reconsider his stance when we tell him why we are here.”

“If you say so.”

“I say you move your legs here so I can see you two!”

Not a moment later, two figures were standing in front of his bed, bowing down slightly so that he could see them better. Both wore dark formal suits, as if coming from an opera play or awarding ceremony, with the difference than one wore a green tie, and the other a red one. Their faces where hidden behind masks, the material was or at least looked like porcelain, with one mask having a smile drawn on it, and the other a frown. It was not hard for him to determine whose voice belonged to who anymore.

“So, what do you two want? Are you two a bunch of clowns, ordered to entertain me. If yes, then get lost.”

“Oh no, no and no. We are, representatives, dear Mr. Neurosurgeon, and we got a proposition for you.”

“A chance, to continue with your profession, if you are ready, to pay the price.”

For a moment he said nothing, but then decided to response to those two jesters.

“Gentleman, I am not sure if today is the day where they allow the insane to roam free on the streets. But I am afraid I must burst your bubble of illusion. My body cannot be helped! This is permanent! Now-”

“Who was saying we talked about your body?”

That question, got him and his attention, even if they where probably messing with him, he could at least listen to their crazy offer before screaming for someone to throw them out of the hospital.

“Continue.”

“Thank you for allowing us to explain. See, the institution we represent believes that it would be a waste, a shame, an absolute injustice If such a grand mind like yours, would go to waste.”

“We have searched and collected the experience and knowledge of a thousand Doctors and a thousand more Surgeons, for the purpose in creating a machine that can utilize this knowledge.”

“A robotic surgeon to be specific, who is able to work independently, without the supervision of anyone.”

Pah, that was never going to work, what the heck where they even talking about, robotics, robots, where merely some gimmicks some inventors made because they had too much free time, or who appeared in those dreaded sci-fi comics or films!

“I admit that I don’t know much about Robots, but even I know that this is insanity you are speaking. And even if, who would control this “Surgeon robot” of yours, a computer, as far as I am aware gentleman, those still fill a whole room, sometimes a whole building, and your computer would need a telephone to fit in a construct, that would be mobile enough to conduct surgery. No computer can replace a mind like ours!”

“A great statement, and good proof that your head has not been injured due of the unfortunate events that have happened towards you Mr.Neurosurgeon”

“That’s not my-“

The one with the smiling face was taking out a piece of blue paper from their suit, as they unfolded it he could see the blueprint for a machine, that despite its angular appearance, looked a bit similar to a person, in the corner was a description

“Prototype: Independent robotic Surgeon MK V”

“You stand correct, a computer as you know it would not be sufficient. However, what if we told you, it would not be a programmed intelligence that would apply all the knowledge and memories we have collected, but rather, a biological one, mirrored into a machine, a system, compact enough to be put into a robot surgeon.”

“My colleague is correct. Unfortunately, we have yet not found a participant in the procedure, to be the mind, the link, the, if I may say, face and voice of the construct we intend to create. The other doctors and surgeons where willing to offer their memories, knowledge, and expertise, but were not interested to be put inside a machine.”

“And so you come to me, who is bedbound for the rest of his life, if they would like to participate in an experiment, that could give them the opportunity to preform surgeries again, or the attempt might kill me.”

“No Sir, we have run the tests and simulations, there should be nothing to fear.”

“Probably.”

“Yes, so, what do you say to our offer, Mr.Neurosurgeon?”

The other one, with the frowning looking mask was now taking the turn, revealing a paper that appeared to be a contract, putting it in front of his face, he began to read.

He had to think, those two, there was neither anything trustworthy, but also not untrustworthy on them, if that was their plan, if they could make it work. All the doctors told him the truth; he would never move again. Which meant he would be wasting away in bed, forced to an existence of doing nothing and being a burden! It was there, in his mind, a voice that told him, that even if this was outright careless, he should, no he must take that opportunity.

“Do you have a pen?”

“Uhm yes wh-“

“Put it in my mouth.”

“I beg you pardon.”

“Put the end of the pen in my mouth and show me where to sign boy!”

As he commanded one of them put the pen into his mouth, whilst the other held the contract firmly in their hands, both waited patiently as he signed the contract.”

“Give me one week to put my affairs in order, then I’m ready.”

“Ah, wonderful. Don’t worry, you won’t regret it, you can always decline if you want.”

“Interesting decision. We will prepare for you to be extracted from this facility; in a week we will come for you.”

As they both began to remove themself from his view, his mind worked, his mouth near silently repeating.

“The minds of a thousand doctors, and a thousand more surgeons…fascinating.”

<…>

“Uhm, Surgeon, sir, are you still here?”

“Ah, yes, yes, I was lost in some thoughts.”

“I was asking-“

“I know Owens…I think it is the best, if some parts of my past remain as they are, hidden, and perhaps, forgotten by the public, honestly, I see no reason why to reveal who the part of me is, that does mostly the talking and thinking. It’s the best, to be, just a Surgeon.”

“Hmm, there is one more thing I would like to know. About you, joining the Wrath.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you join the Wrath, I mean, it was your personal decision, right?”

Ah, that one caught him off guard to be honest, it had been so long since someone had asked him that. Yet, there was also something, uplifting in getting asked that.

“I have to say Blaise, you are the first person who has asked me this, in a long, long time.”

<…>

They may have shaped him, they may have given him this chance and they made him to the construct he is now, but he always knew that it would be his decision, what to do after all the tests, and experiments to see how well they built him, would be finished, it took them long enough. All the considerations have led him to this place, this base, that was still under construction.

At least, the gate looked nice, it even had an intercom.

It still felt somewhat strange, to move what were basically his hands now, metal claws, that functioned precise and without any time delay. By all means, such technology shouldn’t have existed when they put him in charge of this body, but well, here he was, pressing the button.

For a while there was static before a voice emerged.

“Yes?”

“Greetings I-“

“-we don’t want anything, so go sell your products somewhere else.”

“- you seem mistaken, I am Mr…a medical professional who would like to offer his services to this organization.”

When he released the button he waited for a response, but there was nothing, well, maybe if Plan B would work.”

“I also work for free, all I need is just an office, a surgical room, a power so-“

Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, the gate in front of him opened with a large metallic sound, a part of the voices with who he shared this robotic body, advised him to take cover, or to run, but he stayed there, awaiting whatever was to come for him. His white coat fluttered a bit because of the wind, all he had with him was a medium-sized suitcase with a few belongings and tools. He had thought about it for days and concluded that this was the right decision to make.

The gate was now open, and he waited, when suddenly he could hear, at first faint, then closer, footsteps from three different people. Two, that where clearly guards or soldiers, keeping their rifles locked and loaded, but he ignored them, for his whole attention was directed at the one in the middle.

A lion, taller than anyone he had seen before, the fur, so bright, shining in the light of the evening sun, and the mane, it appeared to glitter, similar to a strong and illuminating wildfire. The eyes of the man, it felt like as if they stared into his processor, with their strong shade of green, like emeralds or jade perhaps, maybe even stronger.

“I see, it is you want to join into our ranks? Then tell me, why should I let you in? What can you offer to me robot?”

For a moment he did not dare to say anything, that charisma he radiated, and that voice, every A-list celebrity would feel jealous. His uniform with its shoulder pats and purple cape, only solidify his status, that yes, this was the Commander he had heard about.

“Because, commander Rojas, I am a surgeon, with the expertise of a thousand doctors, and even a thousand more surgeons. Who would like to offer his services to aid you.”

He pressed one of his arms close to his chest, before giving a respectful bow to the commander, he would have loved to kneel down, but wasn’t sure if he would be able to get up again.

At the edges of his sensors that made him see, he could see how a pleased smile was appearing on the Commanders face.

“You have heard about me, good. Tell me, tell me one last thing before I make my decision, why do you want to joint me?”

He straightened himself up, looking directly into the face of the lion, who awaited, no, expected him to answer.

“Why? Because commander Rojas, I believe your faction, your group, your military is the key, the only way, to unite this world to one, sir. The Wrath must rule, and I will support this cause, forever.”

<…>

“Forever…”

He repeated, yet, unlike in his memories, this time it sounded hoarse and uncertain, more like a question, than a statement.

Standing up from the chair, he saw how Blaise Owens still scribbled some words on the notepad, should he take it, destroy it, maybe even k-

No, all the voices agreed, this was history, it all happened, no need to hide the truth.

“We’re finished here.”

Walking to the door, they had it already open, when looking back one last time to the cat.

“I hope you got what you need, I hope General Cottontail got his answers.”

Shock and surprise, he could hear it clearly in their voice, breathing sharply from being caught.

“What? How? When?”

Coughing from the sudden revelation, the Surgeon used the opportunity, letting out a static laugh, that washed up war journalist wasn’t bad, but he was better.

“Oh Blaise, do I have to remind you, a thousand doctors, and a thousand more surgeons in my head. I knew from the very beginning, that you were doing a favour for the General.”

He could inform the Commander, that certainly would be interesting to see if Blaise and the General would get punished.

No, he decided against it, the journalists company was, appreciated.

Whatever would happen with all the information, it did not matter to him, he had to prepare himself and the operation room.

There was always work to do now that he was back online.

#Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #Blaise Owens RKZ #The Surgeon RKZ #Lis Polarny RKZ #TW: Suicide #tw: medical malpractice #tw: surgery #TW: Surgical malpractice #TW: Ableism #Now I am not sure anymore; whether this one or the one with Blaise and Sam was my first story ^^;;;

[bowlerhatwearer]

Smothering Friendship

TW: Blood, TW: Implied Amputation, TW: Surgery, TW: Death, TW: Smoking

Characters: Bruno Capello, Cupid Hound, Samuel Cottontail, Blaise Owens, Joanna Owens

Originally written: 15th May 2022

~~

“Ah, that’s the way of life, wouldn’t you agree Sam?” Even with the midday sun burning over their heads without any mercy, it did not bother the two who sat there on the hill in the slightest, especially because they both were protected under the blessed shade of a broad violet sunshade. The white rabbit couldn’t agree more with Blaise Owens, who currently was occupied rummaging through the picnic basket. For today was a special day for the two of them, who sat in front of a table they had been placed on top of the hill, sitting across from each other, having had just enjoyed a three-course meal the old war journalist had prepared. Only a few meters away from them was another, smaller table where a record player stood, playing some tunes.

“I didn’t know you where such a good cook Blaise. First a homemade Consommé with noodles, the main dish being, what did you call it, a cordon bleu? And as a dessert a white mousse au chocolate. Despite the time we have known each other you are still full of surprises.”

“Oh, hush Sam, you are acting as if I am some chef cook, but I appreciate the compliment. It was nothing but speaking of surprises.”

With one firm pull, the old war journalist took out from the large picnic basket what appeared to be a dark green champagne bottle.

“Is that-“

Upon revealing the label of the bottle, Blaise smiled a bit sheepishly

“Fizzy fruit juice actually, I want this to be a day to remember, as crystal clear as the glass from which it will be drunk, but nevertheless the juice has a great flavour and was similar expensive to its alcoholic equivalent. For they only use the best of the best fruits for this drink.”

Placing two glasses, that from the way they reflected the light of the sun alone, must have had cost a small fortune, the cat focused on opening the bottle, slowly removing the cork, having his shaking hands tightly gripped on the bottle, with his right one being on the cork, for Blaise wished to catch it before it could hit someone.

Most especially, so it wouldn’t hit Sam.

Despite the day having been so well, there was still, the worry that the smallest thing going wrong could culminate into some freak accident that could kill Sam, and Blaise wanted to prevent that from happening, for today was a day to remember, a day to celebrate.

The loud popping sound signalised to the old cat that they did it, sighing in relieve they carefully threw the cork back into the picnic basket, they had just enough time to start filling Sams glasses, before the juice could start to escape from the bottle, onto the table, the white rabbit gave a small chuckle because it was kind of funny how Blaise attempted intensely not to spill a single drop, biting on their tongue in the process. Having filled their champagne glasses, Blaise took his and raised his arm in Sams direction.

“Today it has been exactly five years since we have met each other. I will never forget the day you have changed my life, by falling through the ceiling of my car.”

Their hand trembles whilst holding their glass, which is very unusual, perhaps they are more nervous about that speech than they had thought, yet, they know what they want to say, the genuine words he had thought about to close his short speech to Sam.

“I don’t know where I would be today if it wouldn’t be for you Sam. And for that, I will always be grateful. Cheers, salut, prost and skol!”

Carefully the glasses met, before there was the tender yet sharp sound of two glasses clinking in union.

“Likewise, Blaise, even if I was not, a, very polite guest, to you on our first encounter. Thank you, for everything.”

“No one would have been polite, if they would have been in the same condition you were in Sam. I am happy, to be around you and I look at these past five years with a cheerful smile, but also with a sad eye. I hate to admit it, but in these last five years I get the feeling age is catching up to me much faster than in t-“

As if fate wanted to proof him right, Blaise Owens was interrupted by a coughing fit, one, that did not stop so easily, their eyes began to water, and putting the glass on the table, had to support themselves by putting their hands on their table, making it shake slightly. Sam was about to look if they were alright, but Blaise gave him a hand sign to stay, the coughing had calmed down.

“Damn to the underworld and back! I don’t know what is wrong with me. Lately it has been getting worse, but that shall not interrupt us on this special day.”

“Blaise, are you sure you’re doing, ok?”

“Yes, don’t worry about me Sam, really, it’s probably only a cold.”

The rabbit looked for a moment with their red eyes worried at the old war journalist, before offering them a warm smile, reaching behind his back, he was pulling something from behind the chair that was standing behind him.

“Speaking of old, I have bought you something, that I think you might like, or not.”

“Sam, you shouldn’t have.”

“Knowing you Blaise, you probably brought me an anniversary gift as well.”

“You know me well.”

Given the gifts shape, it was not hard for Blaise to guess what was in the wrapping, their smile revealing that they already had a very good guess what it was, still, they decided to wait until they had freed it from its wrapping before saying something, which they began to remove carefully.

Only a few seconds later, did Blaise Owens hold the revealed gift in their hands.

“A cane, a walking cane-“

Whilst a major part of it was coated in black varnish, there was a small part, before the silver-coated metal handle, that revealed it to be crafted out of cherry wood.

“-oh Sam, you shouldn’t have, this, must have costed a fortune.”

“Who knows, maybe I just robbed it off an old man.”

“I can hardly believe that, especially when it comes to you but, thank you, Sam, I really appreciate the gift.”

“I remembered how you told me how your legs have been acting up lately, and you said you were going to get a cane because of that, and also because you wanted to look classy, so, I thought I would get you one as a gift.”

Brushing with their fingers against the metal handle, it felt cool but also comfortable to touch, the longer the examined the cane, the wider they grinned, approaching Sam they gave the rabbit a hug out of thanks.

“It’s wonderful craftmanship, but I am afraid that my gift is not going to reach the same bar as yours Sam, I’m sorry for that in advance, I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

“Blaise, whatever you’ve gotten me, I am sure it can easily hold up with a cane.”

“We shall see about that.”

Despite their calm voice, they were actually in their mind deeply embarrassed, Sam must have taken lengths to get such a walking cane, and all he had to offer, was, it was now almost painful for them to say what it was.

Removing themselves from the table, Blaise walked away from it to get their present, whilst testing out their new walking cane, they really hoped that Sam would like the gift, doubt started to form into their mind, but no, there was no turning back, they would give Sam their present, and a small part still told him, that the rabbit would appreciate it, for it was something very personal.

Under the table, on the one where the record player still played its tunes, was a medium sized box, wrapped in plain white paper, and red cloth ribbons. It looks almost, like a typical present out of a picture book, but Blaise liked its appearance.

Being a few meters away from Sam, they wanted to say something to their companion, perhaps something witty, but the moment passed when there was suddenly the sound of whistling in Blaise ears, one that appeared to come out of nowhere, yet closer.

Just in the moment he had taken the gift, Blaise Owens trembling hands allowed it to fall onto the ground, cursing themself, they had to bow down to get it, remaining where they stood, the few meters away from the dinner table, as the whistling sound grew stronger.

“Stange, it’s not even windy, doesn’t even sound like it, what’s tha-“

Sams words got muted instantly by the deafening sound of a crash, one that twirled up every piece of dust and sand in a four-meter radius. Blaise was knocked down as earth and sand hit him from every side, trickling down their neck. Coughing, not as violent as before was the first thing to be heard, when the violent sound died down, with the cat trying everything to remove the dust from their eyes to see again. Finally, they took a glance into where Sam was supposed to be.

Where moments ago, Samuel Cottontail stood, was now the crashed remain of an unexploded anti-aircraft missile that stood there half submerged in the sand of the hill, the engine still smoking. The bottle of fizzy fruit juice laying on the ground, its liquid spilled and greedily taken by the soil, one half of the table having been blown to pieces, and the record player having fallen onto the ground, scratching the record in the process.

Everything was forgotten in Blaise Owens mind, everything stood still, until the first new thoughts started to flood trough their mind, as if it was a broken dam.

“SAM!”

Blaise scream echoed as they forgot the present, running towards the crash side, the walking cane still in their hand but forgotten to be used they immediately knelt down when reaching the missile, and started to dig with their hands.

“Sam!”

They didn’t care how deep he was buried into the sand, they dug, with each hand full throwing it away their thoughts growing more frantic to just reach the end of the missile to safe him. Their mind was in full blown panic and dismay, perhaps if not, they would have acknowledged the dangers of digging an unsupported hole that could have easily swallowed Blaise Owens up and bury alive.

Finally, what felt like hours to them, they had reached where they believed Sam would lay, breathing heavy they continued to dig, when touching a dusty sleeve, that Blaise immediately identified to be from Sams shirt, digging around it they were able to free the rabbits arm, the rest of his body having apparently being crushed by the missile, yet, the arm was still attached to the rest of Sam.

Out of reflex they pulled the sleeve more down, reaching for Sams hand and Blaise desperately pressing their good ear at the end of the wrist to check for his pulse.

There was none.

“Sam…”

Despite trying to check two, three, even ten times, there was no indication for a pulse, and Blaise Owens had to accept the fact, that the white rabbit was death.

Again.

Pulling themselves out of the hole they had dug to get to Sam, they remained there at where the missile crashed. Blaise could feel, how tears started to form in his eyes, how his grief and sadness was rolling down his cheeks, before falling into the hot and uncaring dessert sand.

No, despite how often they had witnessed Sam die, this time It was different.

This time, it appeared to have been a direct insult, a sick twisted play of fate, to abort the time they shared together.

One the day, on the anniversary of having met for the first time.

The first thing that changed in their usually calm and composed appearance was with what force they gripped around the handle of their walking cane, followed by the gritting of their teeth, their tail lashing violently and finally their eyes, red from crying twitching.

Sadness had turned into fury.

“It’s-“

*bang*

“-not-

*bang*

“-fair!”

*bang, bang, bang*

Huffing they stood close to the motionless and unexploded missile, which they had just hit with their canes handle, but no, Blaise Owens was far from over and showing mercy to yet another unnecessary construction of war (an unnecessary product itself as Blaise mind quickly reminded them) that just killed a person, even if not as originally intended.

“He deserves better!”

They did not care where they struck the missile, too angry to care or to be reasoned with, they aimlessly continued to hit on the rockets outer shielding.

“Because for you, oh almighty entity of death and fate, this is just one big act-“

Despite their lungs protesting, to give them a break, their hands and legs shivering in exhaustion, Blaise Owens continued to cane the unexploded weapon.

“- making his life miserable, just for the laughs!”

Their violet eyes flashed, before once again their teeth gritted against each other, Sam tried to hard, yet this entity that caused the curse, didn’t care.

“There is rarely a day where Sam is not killed, so couldn’t you just have made one exception!”

This time the swing was much harder than the last, leaving a dent on the metal plating of the missile, that never fulfilled its intended purpose.

In their moment, Blaise had zoomed everything else that was happening around them completely out, not noticing how two shapes were stepping out from a hidden entrance. Cupid Hound and Bruno Capello, who was saying something to the colourful plush dog.

“Now where would I crash If I where an anti-aircr-“

Still in his thoughts the eighteen-year-old jackalope hadn’t noticed the angry rant of Blaise Owens yet, who was still occupied in beating the same rocket, he and Cupid were searching for, merciless.

Cupid however saw it, pulling on his friends shirt to get his attention pointing into the direction of the hill, where the old cat stood.

“-what’s - HOLY, BLAISE STOP IT, you’re getting yourself- no, us all killed!”

Running into their direction, the Roadkillerz duo tried to pull Blaise away from the rocket, but it was to no avail, they didn’t appear to have even noticed that Bruno and Cupid where there, pulling on the part of their suspender that was on their back Bruno grunted, both in annoyance and panic.

“What’s wrong with you!? Stop hitting the dud!”

“He’s trying so hard to get his life around.”

Lounging themselves at the missile they continue to hit it even more aggressive, completely ignoring the presence of the other two who even with using their full strength, couldn’t hinder Blaise from bashing the weapon.

“When will this end?! In ten years? Twenty, a hundred, maybe in ten thousand perhaps?!”

“Are you talking about the general? Blaise I’m sorry but he’s going to be ok!”

But Brunos words fell on deaf ears, too deep was their grief, sorrow, frustration, and fury they felt to even acknowledge that anyone else was there, the day was ruined, they just wanted to have a day, that could be fondly remembered, but it was all for nothing. They didn’t care if that thing would explode in their face, maybe that was for the best.

Their lungs burned so much, yet, they didn’t consider stopping yet.

“Every day I see him doing a little bit better, yes, I admit sometimes less successful but sometimes also more, but he tries so HARD!”

Wheezing and coughing, they could feel how their foothold was slowly crumbling away, but they didn’t, they couldn’t just let it end like this.

“Every time, he died, it’s not just him who you hurt, but me as well!”

“Please Blaise, you need to stop, you’re hurting yourself!”

Yet even Cupids words where to no avail, they couldn’t hear them, for the beating of Blaise own heart has turned deafening to them. He barely got any air into his lungs anymore, between all the wheezing and coughing it just seemed, less and less possible to breath.

“Why don’t you just kill me then! Why don’t you just go f-“

Whatever word Blaise Owens wanted to speak out, they just couldn’t do it, for there was no longer any air in their lungs. Despite their hardest attempts, they couldn’t, it felt, as if they were filled with hot, molten, and heavy lead. Dropping the walking cane out of shock, they desperately tried to breath, but nothing happened.

In panic they held on to their own throat, hitting their chest for their lungs to work again, only gurgling escaping their throat. Their whole body burned like a forest fire, a new wave of tears forming around the corner of his eyes.

“Blaise?”

“Blaise what’s wrong!?”

Suffocating in pain and fear, their legs started to give in, and everything appeared to move in Blaise vision, as if it was in slow motion.

Bruno and Cupid who desperately tried to help them, but couldn’t, looking in pure shock as Blaise Owens fell on their back, how they couldn’t move their head anymore whose mouth was torn open and how Blaise view changed, seeing instead of the dessert, now the clear blue sky as they laid on the ground. They couldn’t hear the shouts of the two Roadkillerz either, for it felt like as if they had become deaf.

During their violent spasms still trying to bring his lung to breath, which grew with every moment weaker, Blaise was alone with the few thoughts they could still make, as their body appeared to shut down.

“So, this is, how it finally ends with me.”

Their view already turned blurry, yet they still could see the outlines of Cupid and Bruno who were shaking him, maybe to keep them awake.

“Bruno….Cupid….”

One last glance, already fading into darkness, one last look at the remains of the missile, that had ruined this day, that began so perfectly.

“Sam…”

<…>

All was quiet and dark in the room, that was, until suddenly the white blanket got thrown on the ground by whoever occupied the bed. Looking around, he noticed something quickly.

“Uuuurg, this isn’t my room.”

Sam couldn’t remember what had happened, well, obviously he had died, so much was clear, but Blaise was trying to give him a present, when there was suddenly this whistling sound, he looked up, and that was it. All he knew was that his whole body felt very sore and his head still groggy.

“Where am I?”

“At the hospital. You took longer to rise from the death than usually.”

On every other day, the thought of being here would make him flinch, but his head still hurt too much, instead he looked at the figure, that stood in the doorframe of the room he was in, they looked familiar, but their voice sounded, different.

“Blaise? Is that you?”

“I am not, but close.”

Turning on the lights, Sam had to adjust his red eyes to the sudden brightness, when he saw who was standing in front of him. Dr. Joanna Owens, Blaise younger sister who, looked a bit similar to her older sibling.

“Believe me, the effort digging your body out, was not worth it, but I know that Blaise cares about you, so much, that they neglect their own health.”

There was something, pondering in her voice. However, Sam was not really a person, fond of doctors, even if this one was related to Blaise.

“What do you want Doctor?”

“Fetching you, you are after all one of Blaises emergency contacts.”

He didn’t like the implications, Blaise neglecting their own health, him being one of their emergency contacts, something was going on.

Stepping out of the bed, he realized that he was completely in his clothing, which didn’t appear to be dirty.

“What happened, where is Blaise?”

Having looked at the floor, she now stared directly into Sams eyes.

“They nearly died.”

Maybe it was her neutral tone, but the short sentence made him upset. He could feel his stomach twisting when his mind repeated over and over again “nearly died.” Blaise nearly dying, that sounded unbelievable. Gritting his teeth, he responded in a half-shout.

“No this is-! How did this happen?”

“A sudden and violent embolism in their left lung, with their smoking habit, it didn’t shock me that this possibility turned into reality, I am surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Sam felt as if he was going to be sick, and even though there was nothing he could have done, he felt guilty for not having been there to help Blaise, but also angry at their sister, for how, cold, and uncaring her voice sounded.

“You know, I considered the idea of cutting your lungs out and operating them into Blaise, given that your organs regrow always, but I know that Blaise would never forgive me if I had done that, neither would they have wanted that.”

Now he was growing inpatient, instead of telling him just where Blaise was now and how they were doing, she had to tell him this?!

“Where are they Dr.Owens, where is Blaise?”

Taking a sharp breath, Joanna took a look to her left once, then to her right before focusing on Sam again.

“They are, stable, recovering, and responsive. Fortunately, a team of Medics first responders were not too far away, two Roadkillerz had directed them where to find Blaise, and your body-“

He was about to say something again to her, but she was faster, raising her hand to signal that she wasn’t finished talking.

“-my colleagues immediately prepared for an emergency surgery and preformed a pneumonectomy on Blaise left lung, or to say it simpler-“

Stepping away from the table, Sam looked curious in what was hidden behind her, but really wished he didn’t for now he felt even more sick and wondered if he was about to barf. There stood a tall glass cylinder, filled with rubbing alcohol, floating in it, what Sam assumed was part of Blaise Owens breathing organ.

“-they removed Blaise left lung, there was nothing that could have been done to safe it. However, and fortunately people can survive with only one remaining lung just fine, if they aren’t self-destructive chain-smokers like a certain someone.”

He wasn’t sure what to say, all of this, still sounded unreal, as if this was all just not true, as if he was still death and would wake up any minute now.

“They’re at the CCU, would you like to see him?”

Removing his focus from the cylinder, Joannas expression looked after she had said these words, warmer than before.

“I-I can visit them, right now?”

“Sure, you are after all in their emergency contacts, I said they’re responsive, didn’t I? Very weak but they can hear you, and answer, just don’t push it, they need to take it slow.”

Nodding he was ready to leave the room behind, as they both stepped out of the corridor, Sam noticed how Joanna had taken the cylinder with her, which he had to admit, was creeping him out slightly, but also made him wonder.

“Will they be, alright?”

“With medication and laying low on cigars, sure, they have survived five years of forced labour and five years being around you.”

“Yeah that make- five years being around me?! Hey, what is that-“

Sam was not able to finish being offended, for Joanna simply interrupted him.

“Blaise is tough, but I expect you to keep an eye on them, especially because of their smoking habit. They have been smoking ever since Lawrence died.”

Before the white rabbit could say something to the doctor, she was already giving him another hand-sign to follow her to the elevator, stepping into it after Sam, there was something else she had to tell him in private.

“I believe that you should know that I have been told what transpired after you died. Apparently, my sibling, in a fit of grief, has been overcome with anger, which is, rarely something that happens, especially in such extend. Anyways, they began and continued to hit against the unexploded anti-aircraft missile, shouting against some to me unknown deity and the whole world before collapsing on the ground.”

Sam had to digest those words, his death seemed to have really shaken Blaise this time, still, it was very careless of them to hit a dud!

“That…they could have died with that stunt!”

“I agree, luckily there never was an explosive charge in that missile.”

When the elevator opened, Joanna made sure Sam was following her, not to get lost in the corridors of the critical care unit, before finally reaching the door where Blaise was taken care of. Before he turned down the handle of the door, Sam gave a glance to Joanna

“Wait, shouldn’t I wear some protective suit, a mask, or at least get my hands disinfected?”

“Don’t worry, we already took care of that, for you.”

The way she said that, really made him shudder, but he felt, it was better not to inquire what she meant with that.

“Three more things, first, when you are done being sappy, tell Blaise that I have a souvenir for them-“

Her fingers tapped at the glass cylinder that contained Blaise left lung.

“Second, again, don’t push them, they need time to recover- “

Sam just nodded in response, he wouldn’t stress Blaise out, he wanted them to get well soon after all. Joanna approached the general closer, putting her left hand on his shoulder.

“Lastly, General, even when Blaise has recovered…things will never be the same again. Living with one lung, especially with their excessive smoking, it won’t be easy for them. Please, they are going to need you Sam.”

He wasn’t sure at first how to respond, but then looked Joanna in her eyes, who for the first time since they had met, looked with sorrow, pleading with him in silence, to be there for their sibling.

“I…I understand.”

With that being said, she drew back her hand, giving him one nod before leaving as Sam pressed down the handle of the door, entering the room.

The first thing he noticed was of course Blaise, laying in the hospital bed connected to some machines he did not recognize all of them, however he knew what the monitor showed the vital signs, and some. Some infusions were connected to his arms but it appeared as if Blaise was breathing on his own.

Just, for how long was he gone?

Maybe he was wrong but a few of those machined looked similar, to the ones he saw when visiting his father before he was dying, perhaps a bit more modern.

Father, yes, the room had something like the hospital room in which his own father later died. Their last meeting did not go well, and he left with an even more hurt feeling, than with the one he had entered. Knowing that his father would never approve of him or be once proud of him.

So, was it wrong to think, to contemplate that seeing Blaise Owens like this, hurt him much more than when he visited his own dying father?

Getting closer, Sam noticed how Blaise eyes where closed, taking deep breaths, that despite them having only half of their lung capacity left, appeared calm. The old war journalist looked exhausted and tired. Which made sense, first the embolism followed by an emergency surgery, it must have been very energy draining.

It was probably for the best to leave them without causing a disturbance.

Deciding to take one last glance before doing so, he saw Blaise cane, leaning against the wall and, a gift!

He remembered, shortly before he died, he got a quick glance of Blaise wrapped gift that was supposed to be for him, the white wrapping paper appeared to have been smudged by the desserts soil, and the red ribbon looked a bit tattered, but beside that its condition was still very good.

Blaise was in the process of gifting it to him, would it be bad, perhaps selfish even if he opened it now? But Blaise wanted him to have it, so, there was a part of him that said, it was right to open it, not a mischievous one but one that was honest and calm.

Unwrapping the paper, a black cardboard box, having the size of a medium sized box appeared under it, taking off the box lid, he saw the present, Blaise had intended to give him.

A book, with a red and white stiped colour, but as he opened it, he noticed, it wasn’t a book

It was a photo album.

Going through it, page by page Sam began to realize that those weren’t just some random photographs gathered together, but rather pictures they had made themselves when they and Sam where together from the past five years to the present.

Showing moments where Sam was genuinely happy.

There were photos of him singing and dancing-

Him hanging out with others.

Having some relaxing time in a restaurant.

Being on the observation platform, enjoying the view.

The list of activities continued, with the photographs being of high quality and each one having written a date under them, stating when the photograph got taken, by Blaise.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he began to look through the medium sized album, but for the moment, time wasn’t important for him, then he reached the last page, where one sentence was written, with silver ink.

“To Sam, the first person, who I have seen in a very long time as a true-“

“-friend.”

Turning around the white rabbit believed he had gotten a heart attack, from the sudden appearance of the recognisable, but weak sounding voice of Blaise Owens. Whose violet eyes looked at Sam.

“Blaise! You, what, you- what were you thinking you could have gotten yourself killed?!”

He was happy, he was genuinely relieved to see Blaise being awake and as well as one could be in such a situation, but the thought that there could have been the chance, of Blaise Owens, in their grief blowing themself up, because they kept kicking and unexploded war missile, hurt.

“Hello Sam-“

Taking a deep breath, Blaise eyes only stayed open for short moments, before the old cat closed them again for a while.

“-it’s just, not fair to you.”

“Blaise, please, I am used to it by now.”

“Still, it is no excuse.”

“It’s also no excuse to put yourself in danger Blaise.”

“But, the, anniversary-“

“Forget the anniversary Blaise, I’m just, glad you’re alive, that’s all that matters now, you fool.”

Despite the exhausted appearance, they let out a hoarse but well-meant chuckle. Taking a few deep breaths, thinking before saying something to their visitor.

“Well, at least, I’m your, FF, Sam.”

You are my what?”

A weak smile appeared on the cats face as they looked at the rabbit.

“Your foolish friend.”

Despite everything, the pain they currently must be into, the strange new situation of breathing with only one lung and being tired, there was something optimistic in their voice.

Something that caused the rabbit to feel, that his eyes were getting wet.

“Sam are you- oof!”

Before Blaise Owens knew it, he could feel how Sam was giving them a hug, perhaps to hide his tears, but also because they were relieved, that their friend was alive.

“Appreciate, hug, really, but pain…”

“Oh, sorry.”

<The End>

#TW: Blood #TW: Surgery #TW: Death #TW: Smoking #Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #Blaise Owens RKZ #Joanna Owens RKZ #I think this will be the last story I am posting for today ^^;;;

[bowlerhatwearer]

No Requests, only Kindness

TW: Implied Death, TW: Smoking

Characters: Samuel Cottontail, Blaise Owens.

Originally written: 18th May 2022

~~

When he awoke from the death again, the first thing he was met with was the colour red.

It was not, as Samuel Cottontail suspected at first being from his own blood, or from someone else, but rather from a cluster of bricks, that had surrounded him.

He remembered now, he was violently thrown into an old brick wall, that, before he could have made an escape, toppled over, with the loose bricks battering him to death.

And now he was stuck, unable to move, having to wait until someone would find him, and if not, well dying again and again was also a possibility.

Since he was trapped and couldn’t really move under all the bricks, there was not a lot for him to do, for a while he whistled to himself but eventually the general got bored from having to listen to his own tunes.

“I really should have taken a book with me, no, make that an audio book.”

There was no echo, the remains of the wall swallowed the sentence whole as soon as he had spoken it out.

An uncomfortable feeling began to resurface in his mind, making him more nervous.

If he would not be out of here soon.

He was eventually going to think about things.

Memories, that were better to be buried like he was right now.

Supressed and locked up.

Sam tried to free himself franticly, but to no avail, not one of the bricks would move an inch. He was trapped and soon would be exposed to his thoughts, was it getting hotter in this pile of bricks or was that just him?!

Screaming was an option, he considered with each passing moment more and more.

“Click, clack, click, clack-”

The sudden sound, of, of bricks being moved made him sigh in relieve. Someone was getting him out of here, someone took the effort to remove the bricks, someone who-

Taking involuntarily a strong sniff, he could smell, trough the dust and burned clay, smoke.

Cigar smoke

The enthusiasm for his saviour vaporized as fast, as he was sure that the person would be trough their cigar.

Sam right now, was not interested in seeing them, groaning as the sound of the bricks getting removed grew closer, he tried not to look, when suddenly there was a ray of sunshine hit his face and he opened his eyes in reflex. There he was met with the face of a cat with the tobacco product he had smelled earlier, looking directly into his face.

“Of all the rotten luck, it’s you.”

“Good evening to you too General.”

Blaise Owens stared for a while, coughing from the red dust that swirled up when they removed some more of the bricks. They stared at each other for a moment, neither saying anything but Sam getting both, uncomfortable with the cats presence and being stuck any second longer in this hole.

“So do you want me, to-“

“Just get me out of here!”

Not saying another word, the cat began to remove more of the bricks, throwing them behind their shoulder, wheezing and coughing again in the process. Their eyes met from time to time with Sam who was watching impatiently to get out of here. Despite the air being stuffy, Owens continued to smoke their cigar, that at this point was short enough, that they could easily hold it into their mouth without difficulty.

“Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Oh you know, not much except being surrounded by bricks and not being in the mood for small talk!”

Well, at least he was already being able to move his limbs more freely again, as soon as Sam was able to pull his arm out of the rubble, he too began to remove the bricks. For how long they both worked together to get him out of here was something not one of them knew. Just that when they where certain that the general could be freed without any trouble, Blaise Owens started to pull.

“Easy, hey easy I said! I don’t want to get ripped in half.”

“You won’t, my lungs on the other hand-“

There it was again, Owens coughing, at this point Sam could’ve easily distinguished it from at least a hundred different coughs. But in the middle of getting him out of the old bricks, something began to manifest in Sams head, a thought, that he shouldn’t really think about, but it was already too late.

“Why are they doing this? Why are they helping me?”

Looking at the old war journalist, Sam thought that they had a rather featureless expression on their face right now, their violet eyes looked tired. Oh, he knew that Blaise could laugh (even if he did not understand their humour) and smile, but it never really told the white rabbit much about Blaise Owens.

The cat who had already, more than once helped him out in different ways. Either way, as right now by digging him out some rubble, offering him a snack and what was the most usual, offering him a ride to the Wrath base.

They offered Sam their arms so he could grab them, they began to pull, taking one last deep breath before they started to get him out of the remains of the old wall.

A new thought, as he began to feel fresh air again, going through his lungs, came into his mind, an answer to the questions he had earlier in his mind.

“They probably want something from me. Yes, that’s it! The old cat just waits for the right moment to strike so that I do something for them! Of course, it’s always like that!”

It made sense, didn’t it, Blaise Owens only helped him, because they wanted something in return, but well, he never asked Blaise to be here in the first place, so why should he give them something!? If they wanted some intel or other information, well, then they could forget it. The more those thoughts appeared in his head, the more his body struggled, wanting to be let down by the Cat that had just freed him completely from the rubble and still had him in their grasp.

“Something wrong General?”

“Just….just let me go.”

Gentle, yet with a firm grasp they placed Sam on the dessert ground. He could see that Blaise Owens all terrain vehicle was only a few steps away from them.

Should he really take the ride, who knew what Blaise would want in return, well, they had not asked for anything yet, but maybe today they would! Perhaps it would be the better decision to just walk.

“We’re going to be here for a while.”

Opening and closing his eyes, Sam was snapped out of his thoughts by the cats sentence.

“What? Why?”

“Engine overheated, I have to let it cool down for a while.”

“Can’t you just cool it down with water?”

“And waste my drinking water, just to cool down something faster? No, the engine is going to work again sooner or later, we just have to wait.”

Extinguishing his nearly depleted cigar on the door of their vehicle, they took out a new one, lightened it before looking at Sam.

“I have a satellite telephone; you can use it to call your colleagues if you want to get home faster.”

They called the staff of the Wrath his colleagues. What a silly thought! But he considered Blaise offer for a while, before casting it aside. No, if he would do that, whoever would come pick him up, if someone would come in the first place, would probably ask for a favour as well. No thanks!

“No, let’s wait.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sam snuffled given the dust that was still in his nose. He looked at Blaise, whose usually white shirt was full of red dust of the bricks and from the sand, looking at himself, he was not looking any better and ah, one of his sleeves was torn slightly, great he had to get that repaired.

Blaise meanwhile had vanished behind their vehicle, opening the trunk of their car and pulling out something, when Sam saw the silhouette of Blaise, because they stood directly in the action of light of the hot evening sun, they had to swallow down.

They were, what appeared to be, holding a rifle.

He let out a gasp in surprise his eyes snapping open and his alarm bells ringing, yet despite that, he found himself frozen where he currently stood. So that’s what was going to happen to him today huh? Despite not trusting Blaise Owens much, this was certainly a turn of events.

“Well General, I guess it is now time-“

He should have known; he really should have known better than to trust this cat. Of course, people would just act sympatric but actually meant not! People who gave him “trust” and “love” but at the end just hurt him. Why would there every be any dif-

“- that we are taking a seat. Seriously, standing in the heat is not good for you.”

Wait what?

Click, click

Opening his eyes again, Sam realized, that what he believed to have been a rifle, turned out to be something entirely else when Blaise Owens stepped out of the sun.

They held a chair, folding it out before putting it on the ground, where their car provided shade. It looked simply, something from a camping store probably. Sam still stared in disbelieve that the weapon he suspected, turned out to be a piece of furniture. For a moment there was the weak thought that maybe Blaise Owens was about to hit him with the chair, but even he had to admit that this sounded ridiculous.

Meanwhile the old cat had taken out another chair, followed by a table and lastly what appeared to be a picnic cooler, placing it on the table.

“Please, general, take a seat, getting a heatstroke would be, unfavourable.”

Did they really care, or did Blaise just say that because they were not interested in carrying him if he should collapse?

But, he had to admit, his legs felt tired, taking the offer he sat down, it was not the, most comfortable chair but it will do the trick, the sound of a zipper getting opened made his ear twitch, the old cat began to go through the picnic cooler.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to ask, what would you like to have? I have bottled water, citrus lemonade, strawberry s-“

“Strawberry.”

It was a short but direct answer. The old cat nodded in response, taking out a can of the bag, before opening it for the general, who had to admit, felt a bit insulted by Blaise patronizing act, he could open the can himself very well, it made his teeth grit.

“I can open the can myself.”

“Sure, but I, uhm, didn’t know if there was any pressure on that can, so I wanted to make sure that your uniform wouldn’t get all sticky General.”

He had to sigh once again, this whole situation was just, strange, why was Owens doing all of this, what did they want?

His thoughts ceased when touching the can, how cool it was and how quickly condensation started to form around it. Taking a sip, he had to admit, it didn’t taste bad, he didn’t know the brand, but it wasn’t too sweet, and the strawberry flavour tasted, almost, natural. Before he knew it, half of the can was already gone.

“And now something special for me-“

Rummaging through the bag with one hand, whilst the other held their still burning cigar, their tail lashed calmly and Blaise not damaged ear twitched slightly, before the movement in the bag stopped, and a smile appeared on their face.

“- there is nothing better on a hot afternoon, than a bottle of grapefruit soda.”

And here he was thinking, Blaise would drink a beer, rolling his eyes he gave the bottle a look, with its milky orange content that had some, fruit pulp floating around.

“You are drinking that? Isn’t that just all, bitter?”

“Well, we have our sweet moments in life, but also bitter ones.”

Removing the cap Blaise was about to drink from the bottle, before stopping.

“You know, my five years in the forced labour camp were certainly bitter.”

What followed was the strange, hollow sounding laugh of Blaise Owens before he started to drink their lemonade, Sam at this point already knew that humour of Blaise too well, making the rabbit let out a sigh.

And here he was sitting now, with the strange old and washed-up war journalist, waiting for the engine to cool down, drinking cooled drinks.

Why where they doing this?

Once again, he was asking himself that question, but more in detail.

Why was Blaise Owens, someone he, Samuel Cottontail, barely knew, doing this? Waiting for him? Offering him a chair to sit and something to drink? It just, did not make any sense. What did he want from him?

Something must have given away that he was in a struggle, because Blaise violet eyes gave an concerned expression.

“General, is something wrong?”

The voice sounded genuinely worried, but why would they do that? Didn’t they know who he was, they are a war journalist, there was no way they didn’t know about him!

Before he knew it, the hand who held the strawberry soda can, is in a tight grip around the aluminium and the metal creaking is the only sound in the air, chilled soda began to pour on his hand, snapping him out of the thoughts. But the emotions remain, the thoughts, it distresses him, makes him angry even.

“Uh oh, I think I’m having a towel somewhe-“

“Why-“

“E-excuse me?”

“Why are you doing this to me?!”

The old cat has not enough time to react, for Sam did not even take short breath before he continued in his half shouting voice.

“Stop walking around the nest and tell me what you want! Is it money? Fame? A position at the Wrath maybe? Do you want recognition or a signed autograph from me?! Just finally tell me what you want in return instead of this psychological torture tactic!”

If there was a point that some of the soda could have been saved, it was now gone, without him noticing at first the dented can falls onto the dusty ground, the last few drops running into the sand.

They just sit there silently, their expression, neutral, the bottle is put on the table before Blaise takes another pull from the cigar before relaxing in their folded chair.

“I want, nothing.”

“Liar!”

His response is more out of reflex than thought, but there wouldn’t have been much difference, the concept is strange, alien, not possible and can’t exist, offering, but wanting nothing in return, there was ALWAYS a catch.

“Alright then, what I want is simple-“

There it was, he knew it, now Blaise Owens would finally reveal their true face to him, they weren’t so though than they thought they were.

“- I want you to take another soda can and relax.”

No, this was not possible, this couldn’t possibly be true.

Resigning he fell into the chair; Blaise nudged the picnic cooler closer into his direction and without another thought, Sam just rummages through it, before grabbing another can. He can’t see it, but he was sure at the moment he just looked defeated, by an old cat whose whereabouts he failed to understand. He is rubbing his tired eyes, before looking at Blaise, who still continued to smoke their cigar with relish.

“Why, just, please, tell me the truth? This is not the first time you have waited for me, and not the first time you have helped me out of some rubble either. You are offering me something to drink and your food, you are even offering my rides to the base! Nobody is asking you to do that Owens!”

Their body rises as they let go from all the smoke that had filled their lungs, they look so calm and relaxed right now, quiet the opposite from him, who is sitting there all tense and nervous because he can’t understand where Blaise is going with all of this.

“Nobody asked me to do any of this, that is correct.”

“Then why?”

“Because I wanted to do it-“

Slowly Blaise Owens head moves, to look into the red eyes of the rabbit, a soft smile appearing on their lips.

“-because I like you Sam.”

His own eyes, don’t move, he just sits there, looking into the face of the cat, who waited for him to response. He would have loved to laugh about their comment.

It sounded so unbelievable.

So…. honest and truthful.

He had to look away.

That old cat meant what they had just said.

Their response and emotions as they said this short sentence, they were sincere about it.

Oh dear.

Despite his best attempts to remain calm, he could not stop himself from breathing in sharply and to release a short sniffle, that he hoped Blaise didn’t hear.

“I don’t care if you are, a member of the Wrath, a four-star general or a war veteran. I like you for the person that you are. Ever since we have met the first time.”

He only listened to some extend to what Blaise had said, the words “because I like you” still echoing into his mind, growing stronger every time it was repeated internally to him.

But, no, Blaise would hate him, is going to hate him, there was no other way, after all-

“Do you know who I am?”

His voice sounds hoarse, without much energy left, only squinting into Blaise direction.

“I am aware that you have made some, questionable decisions in your life-“

“That’s an underestimation.”

“-but I still like you, I really enjoy your company general.”

He took in a deep breath, could they not see, the seriousness of this situation?

“I am a war criminal Owens.”

“Yet, can I not be nice to you-“

They took another, longer pull from their cigar, before breathing it out, the blue-grey smoke dissolving into the air.

“-knowing, that you think about what you have done, each and every day, with a gnawing feeling on the back of your head. After all, general, you are who you want to be.”

He has gone quiet, at this point, neither his outside, nor his consciousness didn’t know how to respond to the old cats words anymore. So that’s it then? They, really liked him, not because he was a general or for his military accomplishments, instead they looked somewhere else and just, liked him for who he was?

“General, if I may ask-“

They waited for a moment before continuing their sentence, probably awaiting that Sam would say anything, but nothing came,

“-who has hurt you, that the concept of kindness and showing compassion, confuse and scare you?”

For a moment he said nothing, all was quiet, he knew, he could now give a long-detailed list of his whole life. Who knew, maybe Owens would have appreciated it, hearing his biography, no, he would keep it short. His eyes looked even more tired than before, sitting, and talking, who would have every thought that it could be so draining?

“Enough, for more, than one lifetime, I hurt others too, perhaps even more than who have hurt me.”

They looked at him, the eyes showing compassion. Before quietness could have settled down again, the old cat let out a gasp, breathing in and out, ready to say something.

“You know when the Roadkillerz had that talent show, where you wanted to sing and dance, but, they pulled you always off the stage-“

Ugh, that day, he had to admit, he really didn’t like to give it much thought, he still remembered how the whole stage crashed onto him.

“-I really, would have liked hearing you sing, and see you dancing on that day, I think, it would have been a nice performance.”

Their voice sounded so calm and genuine when they said it, even with a bit of sorrow and regret, towards him. Where they really sad because he was not able on that day to show off his singing and dancing skills?

What felt like, for being the first time on the whole day, a smile formed on the rabbits face, certainly, it was only small and vanished moments later, but it was there, and that was, what counted.

“Wow…thanks. Maybe one day-”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, it felt embarrassing, maybe he shouldn’t talk about it, hobbies that genui-

“It would be an honour general. I bet you have a great talent for singing songs and dancing to music.”

“Ah hush…what about you, do you like singing and dancing?”

“Well, there was that one semester I took in theatre class, but besides of that, it’s more of a hobby.”

Taking another sip from the strawberry soda, Sam had to admit, as strange as this Owens was, they began to feel, with each passing moment, more comfortable around them. Who would have thought, that at one point in his life, someone would say that they liked him, just for the way he was, he wouldn’t have thought about it. If someone else would have told him, he would have brushed them off. But here he was, sitting with Blaise Owens and drinking soda.

The sound of rummaging caught his attention, the old journalist was searching through the picnic cooler again, when they suddenly pulled out two ice pops that were wrapped in transparent plastic.

“I hope Raspberry flavour is ok with you. I think, after that the engine should have cooled down again, enough to drive you back to the base.”

Without giving an answer he took one from Blaise hand, he looked at the ice pop, the situation was strange, so peculiar that he just couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle from this whole situation. Him, sitting there with the old cat in the shade of their car, enjoying flavoured water ice.

“Thank you but, you make a poor choice with what people you hang out with.”

“Maybe, but then my life would be a really bland and one-sided one general.”

Even if the ice pop already began to melt slightly, there was something he had to say.

“Sam.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Sam, you, said it yourself, didn’t you? You don’t care about my title or accomplishments in the military, so call me Sam.”

“Only if you call me Blaise.”

“It’s a deal then, and…thanks again Blaise.”

“You’re welcome, Sam.”

#Blaise Owens RKZ #Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #TW: Smoking #TW: Death

[bowlerhatwearer]

Driving in the Night

TW: Mention of child abuse, TW: Implied Death, TW: Smoking

Characters: Samuel Cottontail, Blaise Owens

Originally written: 11th May 2022

~~~

The first thing he noticed was pain, yeah, that came to no surprise, dying violently and always coming back was after all on his daily orders since he was in his 30s. What followed was the taste of dust and earth, making him snap his red eyes open. General Samuel Cottontail realized that his body was partly buried in the dessert soil, making him spit out the bits that had gotten involuntary into his mouth.

Great, just great, well, despite the pain there was something positive on it, he could feel that all his limbs where still attached to his body and nothing felt broken, so they had regenerated already. With a swift kick he removed some of the earth, before burying himself out of the ground.

His uniform would need a good cleaning after that. Speaking of which, as soon as he had freed himself, he had to assess the situation. Standing up with a grunt, his legs nearly giving up for a moment because of the pain. He looked around, everything was dark and he had a splitting headache. It was night and he couldn’t see a thing. Scratching on his nose, he smelled, less intentional than out of reflex, yet it turned out to be good, or else he wouldn’t have noticed what was in the air.

Smoke, not from a wildfire or a camp cooker, no, smoke infused with nicotine.

Cigar smoke, coming left from him.

Surveying the area closer, he noticed a soft, orange glow, not too distant from his current position, and something already told him he knew who the person was that smoked.

As if an answer to his thought, there was a short cough that soon died away into the night, followed by the sound of someone, taking a pull on their tabaco product.

He knew exactly who that was, and to think that apparently, the only person with him around here was them, disgruntled the general a bit.

Moving down from the dune Sams walk was more an annoyed trampling, his eyes squinting, the stature of the rabbit slightly bowed and his ears down, holding his right arm with his other, because it still felt sore.

When he could start to see the silhouette of the person, they turned around, trough the glow of their cigar the general could see a polite smile forming.

“Ah general, I was honestly wondering-“ their sentence got interrupted by coughing.

“-if my waiting was all for naught, and you might have reappeared somewhere else.”

Breathing in slightly annoyed their eyes fixated on them, his teeth pressed together.

“What are you doing here Owens?”

“Oh, you know, waiting for you to wake up.”

“Waiting for m-, why, for a personal interview? No thanks.”

“To offer you a ride home, but if you would rather like to walk-“

Sam examined the old cat, who was casually leaning against the closed door of their off-road vehicle as they took another pull with relish of their imminent depleted cigar. Given that it was new moon, only the glimmer of the cigar illuminated a bit of light.

Enough to see Blaise Owens face, his white shirt that was stained with a few spots from different liquids and fluids and their purple suspenders they were always wearing. Sam couldn’t remember that he ever saw the washed-up war journalist ever in another piece of clothing.

“…Get in the car.”

Upon the orders of the general, they extinguished their cigar on their vehicle before opening the door for the backseats for Sam. Blaise took the end of their cigar with them into the drivers seat, before throwing it into the vehicles ashtray.

With a bit of effort, the white rabbit pulled himself onto the backseats of the vehicle, not because the entrance was so tall, but rather because his whole body felt exhausted and was still in pain. Especially his left arm felt really sore. At least the seats felt nice and comfortable, he decided it was the best to just lay there and to rest whilst Blaise would be driving.

At least, that where his intention until he noticed, just, how slowly the car was driving, now he knew that Blaise all-terrain vehicle was not, the fastest model, he had witnessed the vehicle in action a few times, but even he knew that it was capable to drive more than, whatever speed they were driving now!

“What’s going on, why are you driving so slowly?”

He demanded, to know an answer, and he really hoped Owens had a good one, right now he wasn’t really in the mood for jokes.

“I would love to general, but I can’t you see, the last…quarrel between you and the Roadkillerz damaged the full beam function of my car, and to our own safety, I have to drive by sight.”

Groaning in disapproval he wished he could smack the wheel out of Owens hands, but he felt too tired and exhausted to even think about driving himself, well, at least he got some more time to recover from his injuries.

“I am also going to send to your HQ and the Roadkillerz the repair bill.”

Holding his head, he just gave a quick nod in annoyance, yeah, yeah, whatever. Gosh darn it his head hurt like as if he had gotten under a steamroller again. It felt like as if thousands of tiny hot needles were stabbed into his brain.

“Argh, what happened yesterday, or today or whatever!”

Opening his eyes he could see, how Blaise Owens was adjusting the driving mirror in an angle, that they were able to see Sam.

“Hmm, there was something, something about a new super weapon of yours, something something world domination plan…something something Bruno and Cupid trying to stop it and something something the whole thing exploding and crushing on top of you.”

Yes, now he remembered, at least bits and pieces, probably also what remained of him when the destroyed machine fell down on him.

“Great, just great, all the funding blown to nothing.”

“Ah, chin up general, maybe next time.”

“Whatever.”

Laying back onto the soft fabric he closed his eyes, he just wanting to sleep through the whole drive as his bones still ached, when suddenly he could something, foreign, paper like, touching his hand. Grasping it without another thought he pulled it closer to him, a small brown paper bag with content.

“Oh, looks like you have found my lunch, suit yourself if you want it general.”

He didn’t really feel like eating right now, putting it aside, his curiosity still got the better of him.

“What’s in it? Granola bars, sheet iron or water purification tablets maybe?”

“Well, no, a ham and cheese sandwich, a bottle of iced tea and a chocolate bar.”

At least it sounded better than what they got back then in the army. A slight shudder ran down his back when he thought about the emergency rations.

“What kind of…chocolate?”

“Standard milk chocolate, I think.”

That didn’t sound so bad, maybe later, he would take at least the chocolate bar.

“Alas, they didn’t had any white chocolate in store when I bought the lunch.”

“White chocolate, Hah! That’s not real chocolate!”

“Maybe, but it’s the only one they make with crisps.”

Huddling up to find a comfortable position, Sam did not see how Blaise was fishing another cigar out of their pocket, before lightening it with the vehicles cigarette lighter.

“So, General, I was thinking and meant to ask-“

Oh no, he was not in the mood for small talk right now, especially not with Blaise Owens, the old war journalist who just couldn’t retire. They would probably ask him some questions about, whatever had transpired during the confrontation with that jackalope Bruno and his plush dog friend Cupid.

“Good, then keep thinking, I’m not in the mood! Just, listen to some radio or whatever.”

“Alright, alright.”

The purple eyes of the cat focused for a moment at the car radio, twisting the knob for the frequency, however, no matter how hard they tried, instead of any music, or a voice there was only static, until-

“Well, at least there is one channel, let’s see what they got.”

“-after a short break, we will be right back to you dear listeners, to our program about the history of washing machine drums, part eight of sixteen!”

“Doesn’t that just sound lovely gen-“

“Just turn the stupid thing off!”

Without another word all grew silent, only interrupted by the rumbling of the car engine or when Blaise was driving on bumpy terrain. Even if he wanted to appreciate it, he couldn’t, for now that he was all alone, so was he with his thoughts, and they began to creep forward trough his mind, something he tried to avoid at all costs. Taking a deep breath, before releasing the air through his nose it appeared he had no other choice than to talk with, Blaise Owens.

He dreaded the thought.

“What was it you wanted to ask me, just, make it quick.”

Taking another pull from their cigar, Sam could see how the cat took a quick glance at the driving mirror, before breathing out, together with smoke, which quickly escaped through the gab of the slightly opened car window.

“I wanted to ask you about the military.”

Hah, he knew it!

“You already know how it works there so-“

“Oh, not the Wrath, I meant the military, the uhm army, the government.”

Taking a sharp breath, he really wasn’t interested to whatever the old cat wanted to ask, but Sam felt as if it was already too late to turn back now.

“What do you want to know…”

“You are a four-star, that’s the rank of, a General, right?”

“I’m not called General Cottontail for nothing Owens.”

“Right, so…wow.”

His ears perked up by the sound of, was that admiration in the sound of them? Because it really sounded so.

“That means you were in the army for quite a while. A four-star general, that must be a great accomplishment.”

Yes, that definitely sounded like admiration to him, honest one too, well, it had been a while since he heard some, the rabbit could feel how pride was unfolding trough his whole body, from his little toe to the tip of his ears.

“Why thank you, at least there is someone out there who can see that, I worked fair and square to be promoted into this rank.”

As if out of instinct he brushed over the ribbons that where on his uniform, all of them, showing one of the accomplishments he got through his years in the army.

“Wow, really, just, wow, to have such a goal, set in your life. Knowing what you want, wanting to be a general.”

His eyes that he had comfortably closes snapped open, there was something that didn’t set right with what Owens just had said, no, not how they said it, that was fairly, impressed, but the wording, it sounded, strange.

“Care to explain, what you mean with that?”

Their hands turned the wheel slightly to the left, before driving straight ahead again, using the moment to look into the driving mirror at the general again.

“I mean-“

There was a slight hesitation in their voice, before continuing.

“-you worked hard to get the rank of a four-star general because YOU wanted it, right?”

Raising his head, he almost fell back on the seat when trying to look at Blaise, who already went back to concentrate on the road. What sort of question what that supposed to be? He always wanted to be a general! That was his wish and decision, a dream come true. Right. Right?

Something, small was going through the generals head, yet, before it was able to expand, grow, to cause anything, it died as little as it had begun to emerge, safely scooped up and thrown behind his mental wall.

“Of course, I did! Was there anything that made you doubt that?!”

“Not at all general-“their voice sounded more, cautious.

“- I was just thinking.”

“Then think of something else.”

The quiet Sam wishes for is short lived, the silence of Owens speaks volumes to him, the old journalist is already thinking of another question and Sams mind was already working like an typewriter in overdrive, to prepare himself for whatever they would ask.

“Where you the first one from you family joining the army, general?”

Only for a short moment, he looked down at the vehicles floor.

“No, there was also my father…”

They must have felt the bitterness, the cold and slightly hollow sound of his voice. Only giving a short response, the realization this might be a touchy subject.

“Oh...”

There is some rumbling and vibration he can feel, the terrain must get more uneven with more stones on the road, if there even is one.

“In my family, there was no one who joined the army, or got enlisted as far as I know. Not even my father, but he was a happy man, like my mother, of course, that all changed when…when my brother died, but ah well that was a long time ago and water under the bridge.”

There is a short laugh from Blaise after having finished that sentence, or perhaps, it is more of a giggle, Sam isn’t sure, but it damn well does sound, strange, yet, despite thinking about it, he couldn’t say why. As if something was just simply, amiss.

“Did they love you?”

The first thing he feels is shocked, then confusion and followed by questions that began to form in his head. Why did he just ask that? Sam finds himself in the situation, that both of his hands are over his mouth, as if trying to suffocate, or perhaps punish him for even daring, to say this string of words and to make sure such a question would never again leave his mouth. He can feel how his whole-body shudders.

“I think they did, sure they were concerned, with me being a journalist, always on the front and heat of war, but as you know it, no risk, no fun. But it was nice, my childhood, mother, and father, they never bend a hair of my fur or that of my siblings you know?”

Liar, the word forms in his brain, either that or Blaise Owens thought back of his childhood with rose tinted glasses.

“Are you saying that to yourself before you go to bed Owens?”

“It’s true, really.”

For a moment there is silence, their cigar already at its half-life, with the hot ash always landing into the vehicle’s ashtray. Blaise takes another pull of their cigar, there is a short cough, before saying what they wanted to say.

“My parents, I think they, never wanted us to have it like them, you know, corporal punishment. But well, look at me, hit not once and still got himself captured and put in a forced labour camp.”

There is that laugh again, that strange laugh, forced labour, how could they laugh about such a thing? Something that had happened to them? But the questions remained unanswered, swallowed up by other thoughts and Blaise Owens already talking again.

“Perhaps, it wouldn’t have been like that if my father-“

They stop, Sam can see, concentrating at the rear-view mirror how he partly saw, that the old cats smile vanishes and is replaced by a stoic and neutral expression.

“-it’s in the past now.”

All that remained from what Sam just witnessed in mere seconds, was one thought in the generals’ head as he rolled his eyes.

“No wonder you turned out this way.”

Instead of what he thought, something else formed in his mouth, as if he had to object in what Blaise had said earlier, as if Sam had to be right, no matter how wrong it would sound.

“Well, my father hit me, and I turned out alright.”

Rather the focused yet firm sentence he wanted to say to Owens, it sounded more like a blurt as if an automatic response, a defence against what had earlier been said.

Quiet and darkness, was all he was met with, but then his ears caught something, a small sound, at first the albino rabbit thought it was humming, yet, it becomes more clear, it sounded rather like as if Blaise Owens was thinking, contemplating, yes reflecting about what he just had said.

“What?”

The message was clear, but Blaise remained quiet for the moment, at first he thought that maybe the washed-up cat did not hear him, but then it was clear to him, he was probably still thinking, or maybe they thought their answer would perhaps upset him. He could feel how his teeth grinded against each other. That journalist would drive him mad with how they acted. That’s why their company, was in Sams opinion, often unwanted, but would anyone listen to him, no.

“Well, spit, it, out.”

There is for a moment, a sigh in the air, before Blaise closes their purple eyes for a second.

“Isn’t that just a cycle? Your father hits you, because he was hit, and thinks it was right. So, you think, because your father hit you, because HE was hit, it is alright to hit others, and that your father was in the right to hit you. Isn’t that what causes a never-ending and repeating cycle? Would you hit a defenceless person general?”

Both words, “hit” and “defenceless” echo in his ears for a while, but instead of fading away, it felt like as if they grew stronger in his ears. A defenceless person, weak, unprotected, wasn’t he that once? Was he threated right? Did he, threat people right?

The bump in the road that makes the vehicle shakes comes to his favour, shaking his head he can get the sticky words of Blaise sentence, out of his head, freeing himself from it before it causes anything.

He says nothing anymore, the mood for talking was, for the moment at least, gone, he feels tired and exhausted, now more than ever, only mumbling something, into the seat, not meant for Blaise to be heard. Looking away from the old cat so they wouldn’t be able to see his expression.

“It was for the best…. probably.”

Closing his eyes, he just wished they would be there soon, but with how dark it was he was unable to see anything familiar on the outside, that could give him a hint how long it would be, until they would have reached the base. If only he could get some sleep.

The grumbling of his stomach thwarted that thought, he tried to ignore it. Oh no he wasn’t hungry, not at all. But the more the general told himself that lie, the hungrier he felt. Despite his best efforts to fall asleep, it was no use, his stomach just grew louder with every moment. Resigning he pulled the packed lunch closer to himself, sitting up, scratching his head before opening the small brown paper bag Blaise had offered him earlier.

Like they had said, a ham and cheese sandwich, a bottle of iced tea and a chocolate bar.

Removing the wrapper from the filled bread, he noticed how the sandwich was a bit soggy, but edible as he noticed when he took a bite. It wasn’t so bad, it tasted actually really good, sure it was just a plain sandwich, but the mix or salt and pepper was just right, and there was neither too little nor too much mayonnaise between the slices of bread that could leave a smudge on his clothing. Whoever made that sandwich, was also not stingy with the amount cheese and ham slices they put in there, neither were they sliced too thin or thick.

Drinking from the iced tea, Sam had to admit that he was hungrier, than he had thought, maybe before the attack, he hadn’t had a chance to take a bite, he couldn’t really remember the details anymore.

Now all that was left was the milk chocolate bar who he, perhaps a bit impatiently opened, ignoring the few small chocolate pieces that fell on his uniform, as he bit into the bar with relish. The sweet chocolate was a firework for his tastebuds. Before he noticed it, the chocolate bar was already gone, only the ripped apart wrapper being a witness that there was any candy in that packeted lunch once.

He had to admit that he felt better now, also not as tired as before, maybe all he really needed was only a quick lunch break. There was, a little glimmer in his mind that told him, to say something to Blaise, a gesture of gratitude, yet, before he could let it enlighten him, or cast it aside the old cat was already reaching out to say something.

“I have been thinking about your career and, I would like to say, it really is impressive. Years of, I assume it was military school, or academy perhaps. I don’t think I would have been able to pull through it, all I managed was university. But you, all those exams, theoretical and practical. The responsibilities and stamina you had, to go through all of that, incredible.”

His ears went up in full attention. There it was again, that feeling of pride, how warmly it spread tough him. Yes, he, Samuel Cottontail, did all of that, sure there where its ups and downs, but he, yes, he managed to accomplish all of that at the end. He-

“You must have had a great instructor, who must have seen all of that potential.”

It was gone, all gone, from one moment to another, the warmth had left his body, a little bit remained, that’s the one he felt personally, how this small rest left, before it felt all cold. The word “instructor” brings back memories that he wished internally that they wouldn’t resurface. Automatically he touches the one ear, with the striking injury, the appearance of the injury, there was no coincidence that it looked like as if someone had bitten a large chunk out of his ear. Upon touching it, he looked away, out of the window, in the never-ending darkness that was everywhere around the car.

“Yeah…”

His voice sounds hoarse and pained yet is too quiet for Blaise Owens to hear, perhaps then, they would have not continued to speak.

“I once had to do research for a paper that I needed for university, reading, and informing myself about drill instructors, or sergeants, I don’t know the specific term. I had to go through a lot of newspaper articles and archived data. I found out a lot, lots of interesting stuff, but also something, well painful-“

Throwing out their cigar end, they look back at Sam, directly with their purple eyes that meet his red ones, as if the colour in Blaise eyes was glowing.

“I looked up the number of drill sergeants who mistreated and bullied the soldiers that were subjected to them, but not only them, but also the numbers of soldiers who, took their revenge on said drill sergeants. Soldiers who injured their instructors out of revenge, sometimes even, killing them. I thought it would only be a small number, but it was, higher than I had thought.”

He does not respond, cannot respond, this all feels too, familiar, hits closer to home than what he had wished for. How? How was that possible? How could they have known? No, that was all a coincidence, a bad coincidence, was it? There was no explanation how Blaise Owens-

The words about injuring and sometimes even killing them, for a moment he does not think about himself and his past, but rather about a private he once knew very well, how he had threatened that private, if things would have been different, would have Jude Val-

“Well, you know what I think about that honestly. I don’t have any hard feelings against them. Look, if you had been abused by a person you trust, you want to satisfy, can you really blame those who got mistreated that they snap? I feel sorry for them…I mean haha, look at me, I have never killed anybody in my life, but if I would have done it, maybe I wouldn’t have had to spend five years of my life in a forced labour camp!”

They laugh again, that strange, foreign laugh that just didn’t fit, yet they laughed about what apparently was their own misery. Or maybe they were laughing about his. How odd, Blaise Owens wording was, was it really all coincidence? Even if a part of Samuel Cottontails mind protested, the gears where already locked and began to twist and turn, he could feel how not wrath, but red-hot wrath was going through him. Just the way they talked, as if they knew what they were talking about.

As if they knew what he had to go through! The small part that would have loved to tell him, that he has it all wrong, was thrown away, back behind the mental wall. Maybe the whole packed lunch thing was just some distraction to make him weak and vulnerable, a chance for Blaise Owens, that old and washed-up journalist, to strike.

It felt like as if his whole body was an angry teakettle, and every moment steam would whistle out of his ears.

“You, know, NOTHING!”

How odd, it appears in his mind, that sounded almost familiar, like a Deja-vu.

For a short moment the shout causes Blaise to be unconcentrated, Sam could see how their fur is bristling for a moment as they take control of the wheel again, they let go only for a what must have been a second.

“Sam, I can assu-“

“That’s general to you! You listen to me! You can’t obviously know what I have been going-“

“We’re here general.”

Before another word leaves his mouth, all his attention is brought to the illuminated gate, yes, these where clearly the secure, full metal doors of the wrath base. Some of the soldiers would held night watch if they didn’t fell asleep again, so getting in would not be a problem.

Reaching for the handle to open the door, it gets already opened for him from the outside by Blaise, who stands there, stiff, appearing unmoved from the few loud words he had said to them. They probably waited for him to say something so Sam reasoned with himself.

“Whilst it wasn’t a ride, as I am usually accustomed to, neither where the topics of conversation mind you. I have to say I have been chauffeured worse. Good night!”

Their voice in response is tired, a bit raspy, yet the cat still manages to give a weak smile before putting another cigar into their mouth.

“Always and anytime, general.”

#Bowlers old Stories #Bowlers old fanfictions #Blaise Owens RKZ #Owens Family RKZ #I think this was the first RKZ I have ever written if I remember correctly #tw: child abuse #tw: implied death #TW: Smoking

[bowlerhatwearer]

A Day off

TW: Anxiety, TW: Smoking

Characters: Commander Grizzly (Carlos Rojas), Samuel Cottontail, Donald Cottontail, Sgt. Pepper, Blaise Owens

Originally written: 24th May 2022

~~~

„Let me get this straight, you need my general for what now?”

Commander Grizzly looked at the person opposite from him with challenging eyes, they on the other hand appeared to be more relaxed as they took out their cigar and blew the smoke into the air. Sam, who was standing next to the Commander watched the negotiations, calmly yet observant.

“I am writing an article about “World Commander Day”, Commander, and as I just indicated, I am going to write about you. Commander Grizzly, undoubted leader of the Wrath, who with his rule of an iron fist, has set the goal to conquer, govern and rule this world. Who else, if not you, dear commander, would be perfectly suited for, to write an article about?”

Blaise Owens leaned back in their chair, with the bear doing the same, Sam could see from the quick glance he took, that Grizzly liked that idea, an article, writing about him, he could already suspect that the commander was thinking that the article would be a full hymn of praise. However, Blaise was no such journalist, they always wrote the truth, they wrote it so much that their articles where drier to read than a well-done steak to eat. So, for Sam it didn’t make sense why Blaise would suddenly, write such an article, that could only be compared to propaganda, something the old war journalist declined to write.

“I can see, why you would write an article that honours my accomplishments and expressed my goals I have for this world, but why do you need my general for that? You can just talk with me about all of this in great detail!”

The Commander sounded offended by the idea that instead of him, Sam would tell the old war journalist about the bear. For a moment Blaise Owens said nothing, releasing another puff of smoke he leaned forward and opened their violet eyes.

“I am afraid that is not possible Commander, for you see, if I held an exclusive interview with you, people may believe that you might take…liberties in describing certain events and achievements of yours. Now, you know it is not me who is saying that, but you know what the common people think-”

Grizzly cleared his throat in agreement. Standing up the Blaise view shifted to Sam before raising their hand into the rabbits direction.

“-now your general on the other hand, he has known you for years, if he tells me about your great performances, the people will believe it without doubt, for he is your subordinate after all, so why would he lie in the article I am writing? I would need him for the whole day. So, what do you say Commander?”

Sam could see that the Commander was pondering about it, but he also knew that Blaise words had already convinced him, so it was merely just for show.

“Alright, but you better write me from my best side-“

Felling a sudden heavy pull on his shoulder, Sam found himself close to Grizzlys snout, the bears grip getting stronger with each passing moment and his breath reaching the rabbits ears.

“-and you better think carefully what you’re telling them, or you’re death meat!”

“O-of course sir, wouldn’t think of it!”

Finally, he let go of the generals shoulder, releasing him with Sam faster than he intended, being on the other side of the table.

“You are both dismissed.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Commander.”

Turning around Blaise Owens and General Cottontail where about to leave when there was suddenly a shout from behind.

“Hey! Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The white rabbit wasn’t sure what his superior still wanted, but the old war journalist seemed to have realized for they gave themselves a playful facepalm.

“How could I forget-“

They turned around and gave a respectful bow towards Commander Grizzly.

“-I wish you a happy and pleasant World Commander Day.”

With a satisfied smile on his face, the Wrath Commander sat down again.

“That’s better.”

Closing the door behind them, Sam was a bit uneasy about this, but well, a day with Blaise Owens was usually, not as eventful as the other days, usually, who knew what might happen today.

“So, what do you want to know about him?”

Walking down the corridor the old cat continued to smoke their cigar.

“Not here, a clearer environment provokes the brain cells, so we are going for a ride, since you are dismissed for the day that shouldn’t cause any problems.”

“Oh…do you even know what you want to write about yet Blaise?”

Walking behind Blaise, he squinted with his eyes, he knew the old war journalist for some time now, they were actually on good terms, but still, sometimes they were still an enigma to Sam.

Instead of giving an answer the old cat hummed as they walked out of the base towards his car, an older off-road vehicle that was quite roomy, Sam knew it well for he had been a passenger of Blaise car a lot of times by now and even drove it himself one or twice. As they both sat down in the car, with Blaise in the passenger seat and Sam in the co-passenger one, the old cat extinguished their cigar in the vehicles ash tray.

“So, tell me Sam, what do you know about World Commander Day?”

“To be honest, absolutely nothing, it sounds like one of those days they made up to sell stuff.”

When Blaise Owens told him and Commander Grizzly about World Commander Day, Sam had not heard once about such a day, however, given that there was a world apple day, World spaghetti day, World cachepot day and so one, it sounded plausible that there was also one honouring Commanders.

“Yeah, me neither.”

The response from Blaise baffled him for a moment, that just didn’t make any sense or added up at all. If the old cat didn’t know about it, then why take the effort to write an article at all? Why come to the base and ask for him to be dismissed then when-

Wait a second.

Turning his attention to Blaise, he could see the retired war journalist shaking, he thought for a short moment if they were coughing violently again but no, they were, actually laughing.

“It’s…hahah…it’s like you said….as if it is made up…hahaha.”

“Blaise-“

But they continued laughing, even louder for a moment when they heard how Sam was putting two and two together, or when he grabbed them by their shoulders and started to shake them. The half panicked, half surprised voice of Sam going through their ears.

“BLAISE! Do you have a death wish!? If Grizzly finds out about this, we are both done for!”

Calming down, Blaise moved waved their hand to reassure Sam as the laughter finally died down entirely.

“Don’t worry, he won’t, and if he does, well, you only live once they say…well at least in my case. I already had a life, so that’s a risk I am willing to pay. I mean, World Commander Day does exist now, because I made it up.”

Groaning in frustration Sam rubbed against his temples closing his eyes.

“Just, just tell me why you’re doing this?”

“Oh that’s easy-“

Igniting the engine, and putting on the reverse gear, Blaise started to back up from where they had parked their car, before driving away.

“-we two are going to enjoy a nice day off.”

Removing his hands from his head he opened his eyes, and his ears went up.

What did they just say?

Looking up they saw how Blaise gave a slight smile and then sighed.

“The last week was stressful to you, and the one before as well, and lets not talk about yesterday, I came up with this…project as a front, so that you can have a break. I just needed to find a way that wouldn’t be, you know, straight up lying, so it doesn’t damage my journalistic integrity.”

A part of him wanted to be angry at Blaise for playing with fire, but the realization, the thought that they did that, so that he could have a day without all the stress he usually is exposed to, without, maybe, the risk of dying today.

It felt nice.

“Wow…you, you really…-“

He could feel how his body eased up and how he began to relax inside the chair, he had to admit, curiosity started to get the better of him.

“So, where are we going now for our “interview” Mx.Owens?”

The voice full of playful tease, he could see how Blaise started to smile

“Why General Cottontail, to Even Town of course, sure it is a bit of a drive, but where else but where I grew up.”

“You grew up in Even? That, isn’t that far away from Mayberry.”

“Correct, it is one of the neighbour towns, in the past the city was known for its kitchen appliances industry, but after the factories closed, there were different attempts to make sure Even wouldn’t die out. Take a big guess how they saved the town.”

He thought for a while and although not thinking of an answer, he felt as if at least there was a hint that could be correct.

“Does it have anything to do with Mayberrys isolation?”

Blaise gave a simple nod.

“They made it their whole tourism shtick there, it’s the town where you can get the best view of the walls around Mayberry. You can even buy postcards there-“

Sam wasn’t sure what to think about that, he can’t even remember if he ever was in Even, sure he knew the town from hearsay, but having been there, he wasn’t sure. But the thought of Mayberrys isolation being used to sell fridge magnets or other cheap knickknacks didn’t sit right with him.

Taking out their cigar from their ashtray, Blaise Owens was lighting the rest of it again.

“- the government can’t really do anything against it, that’s free market for you.”

<…>

The town was not, advertising being close to Mayberry, as much as he had feared, Sam had to admit, a few billboards and shops here and there, but compared to the marriage ads in Mayberry, that was bearable. Blaise had parked their car and although it looked for a moment that because of the size the vehicle wouldn’t fit into the parking lot, it eventually did.

“Now although this is a day off, I do have some errands that I need to make, the first one being the garden shop, of course- “

But Sam had stopped listening when the old cat had mentioned the word garden shop.

It reactivated some old memories, deep down that the rabbit was not even aware of that he still had, how they slowly resurfaced.

He thought about his mother, a sad woman, with lots of regrets and pain in her life who had it not easy with her husband.

Yet, despite her life not having been kind to her, there was one thing Sam remembered, where she was able to put her foot down.

The small flower garden on their plot, that Sam remembered, one of the few memories of his childhood, that was a fond one, that was not, at least directly, connected to pain or sadness.

How he loved, looking at them, their different shapes, sizes, and colour, he mi-

“Sam, are you alright?”

The melancholic look on his face vanished as soon as he heard Blaise voice getting through his thoughts.

“Ah, yes, of course! Just lead the way.”

The moment he had said the sentence, he knew that he just sounded, too enthusiastic about it, and whilst a bit of it was true, it certainly sounded as if he was acting, and he couldn’t act around Blaise because the old cat knew a thing or two about theatre.

But Blaise Owens said nothing, maybe they did not hear him for the old war journalist only pointed him into the direction of the garden shop in front of them, a medium sized location that upon opening its automatic doors in front of the two, revealed the wonders of gardening to them.

It where, mostly flowers, many of them already blooming in their small cardboard flowerpots but there were also small trees, that upon closer inspection by Sam were sold as “balcony fruit trees” having stepped into one of the corridors together, Blaise turned around to Sam.

“I am going to look for some flower seeds, would it be ok if we separate for a moment?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t get lost.”

“Don’t worry, Sam, I have a map with me.”

Ending the quick playful banter Blaise quickly vanished behind two tall box trees.

He was now mostly by himself, there were a few other shoppers here and there, but with the exceptions of a few quick glances, they returned to looking at the plants. How odd, thinking about it, he would have thought that people might see it as strange, seeing someone in an army uniform standing in a gardening shop around, yet no one seemed to really, care.

Maybe they thought he was an army recruiter, who got lost.

Something was grazing against his hand and looking down he noticed a whole ray of pink cultivated peonies. A shield informing him that the same flower, had won last year a price for being one of the most popular flowers.

He decided to pick one up, the smell of the flower already reaching his nose before it was even close to his face, the flower bud of this one was not completely open yet, but in a few days it certainly would and-

“Flowers, pah, the only flowers a man gets is on their grave!”

The pot fell out of Sams startled hands, on the floor but fortunately, with the exception of a dented leaf, the flower was not damaged.

He knew to whom this voice belonged to yet couldn’t help but take a quick glance around.

There was no one there.

“Rose pruners aren’t the tool of a man, guns and rifles are boy!”

Clearly, without any doubt, it was the voice of his father echoing through his mind.

Sam could feel how a headache started to form, trying to breath calmly, his hands moved automatically to touch on his forehead.

“What, are you going to cry you little sissy!?”

Of all the things, why did a few bits of pieces of words, his father had said to him in the past, had just to appear now in his mind, this wasn’t fair, all he wanted to do was just to look at the flowers and enjoy the rest of the day.

“See something you like Sam?”

For a moment the voice had startled him, and the general was certain that if he wouldn’t have reached to support himself one of the tables where the flowers stood in time, he would have cracked his skull open on one of them. Sam breathed in for a moment, concentrating on Blaise Owens white stained shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“G-give me a moment.”

Honestly, he welcomed it that the old war journalist was there, who appeared to carry a few flower packages of seeds with them, at least now, he didn’t have to concentrate on the words of his father that had echoed only moments ago, through his mind.

Blaise on the other hand was looking at him with a worried glance, taking another step they noticed something brushing against their shoe, looking down, they knelt to pick it up.

“Will you look at that, a peony.”

“Blaise…”

“Hmm, yes?”

“Are you done? Can we leave?”

For a second, the cat gave Sam a confused look before it quickly vanished, followed by a nod.

“I have everything I need, let’s go.”

With Sam now in front they walked towards the cash register that was operated by a red panda in a green-white uniform. The longer he was there, the more unwell he felt, so, Sam quickly excused himself and already walked out of the shop, when he was out taking some breaths of fresh air, he felt slightly better.

“Sam, are you really alright? Do you-“

“I’m fine Blaise, really a-“

Only now did the white rabbit notice, that Blaise Owens had taken the Peony with them, who he accidentally had dropped, and the cat had picked up again.

“Do you like it?”

“I-I guess but why did you buy it?”

“Oh, I got it for you.”

For him, they bought it for him, but why?

“Now, I admit, I don’t know why, I was never good with the whole symbolism stuff about flowers, but there was something on that flower, that just reminded me of you.”

Blaise eyes were closed as they stretched their arms out towards Sam, with the peony now nearly in his face he could smell the flower again and see the warm smile of the old cats face.

He was allowed to enjoy this, something in him told himself.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that spoke against, taking the peony.

It was a present, to him and he liked it.

Carefully he took the flower in his hands, pressing it closer to him than he had intended.

“T-“

Before being able to finish what he wanted to say, he was interrupted by the own groaning of his stomach and Sam was reminded, that he hadn’t had eaten anything yet. This was supposed to be his surprise day off and then this. In that moment he wished to either way sink into the earth or rip off his ears.

“How about dinner? It’s on me and I know a place here, I think you’re going to find interesting.”

<…>

Not ten minutes later they had arrived at the location Blaise had mentioned and entering the restaurant, it looked like as if it was out of this world, at least it looked very out of place for Sam, he couldn’t remember if he ever was in a restaurant like this one.

The walls were panelled with dark brown varnished wood, tall rectangle-shaped windows with long petrol blue curtains, furniture, all tables, and the cushioned chairs were all wood and despite the big chandeliers over their heads that radiated electric light, there was something dim in this establishment, but not one that made Sam feel uncomfortable but rather homey.

“Some guy immigrated and opened this place at the beginning of the last century, had to leave his home because he insulted the emperor or something, his family carries on his legacy on the fifth generation, now-”

Sam only listened with half an ear to what Blaise had said, looking at one of the oil paintings that hung on the walls, the portrait of an Ibex standing proudly, Sam theorized if the man depicted was perhaps a factory owner, all the other portraits showed people too, who were clothed lavishly.

“-what do you think of this place?”

Sam looked back to Blaise who was gesturing to a window spot, with two bench seats that were cushioned in petrol blue fabric like the chairs. A few other guests were in the restaurant as well, as Sam noticed, but they were either way occupied reading the newspaper, talking with each other or eating their food. However, he also took the opportunity to use Blaise question to say what he thought about the restaurant.

“It’s, really interesting, I never was in a restaurant that looks…like that.”

“Now the food here is delicious, but the place is best known for its long list of different coffee variations you can order from.”

As if mentioning the word food, caused a hex to be evoked, a waitress appeared next to their table, the camel wore a white shirt and over it a dark vest with a bowtie, asking them moments later after she gave them both the menu card, what they would like to drink.

Even if the beverage list on the menu was smaller than the one for the coffees that was in total four pages long, it was difficult for Sam to select, but at the end decided to order a glass of strawberry nectar mixed with still water, Blaise wanted to order grapefruit juice, but cursed under their breath when they remembered that this would mess up with their meds, so they ordered the same as Sam did.

Blaise Owens looked pleased and leaned back into their seat closing his violet eyes and letting out a relaxed sigh.

“This place holds many, memories, I have been here in many stages of my life, from my early childhood-“

Looking around, Sam did so too, again examining the unique interior, even if he was in such a place for the first time, there was something in it that he liked.

“-until the present. Decades have passed, but this restaurant and café, has always stayed the same.”

Sam couldn’t help but wonder, what a younger Blaise Owens looked like, even more how they might have been in their childhood, all they knew was the old war journalist, with their many scars and healed wounds in their face.

“You are probably wondering something, why is it always, that when we are hanging out, I entertain you with meals in some way?”

The sentence had caught Sam off guard, but it was also true.

“I have been wondering something like that Blaise, I mean, I am grateful for your offers, but you know you don’t have to.”

Right as he had finished the sentence, the waitress brought them their drinks, telling them as she placed the glasses with the red liquid down, that she is going to give them some minutes to decide what they wanted to order.

“Honestly, I like to share and to get the time to talk with people, I think, it’s because in those five years…we didn’t have had much food or time for conversation in the labour camp, you know…-“

It made sense, Sam had noticed, how Blaise had changed since the old cat went to therapy, when talking about this topic, in the past they had made self-deprecating jokes about their situation, laughing about their own misfortune something Sam found, odd, but ever since the old war journalist had taken a break to focus on their mental well-being, they could talk more, openly about their past.

“-I also grew up in a family, where, money was, a bit of an issue, now, I think we were in the lower middle class, but you know, we often ate at home, we had to save our coins so going out was only on rare occasions. But- “

Blaise smiled, looking at their glass as a few strawberry seeds and pulp was floating in their glass up and down.

“-I remember, how when I was young, I helped dad once with some repair job, the customer gave him a few extra bucks and so as a surprise gift, we went here and I was allowed to order something, it was only a small meal yet, it meant so much to me when I was a kid. I guess, that’s why I like inviting friends to lunches and dinners.”

They looked so pleased, when thinking back about their past, Sam knew that the old cats past was not always bright, but right now, it appeared as if they had hit a pleasant spot in their memories.

For a moment, he too could feel a warmth in his heart, and it made him happy.

Until it was not.

Coldness crept trough his whole body and, it felt at least like, as if his fur was bristling.

Own memories resurfaced, and as they flashed before his eyes, the general came to a realization.

When he thought about HIS father, there was nothing pleasant he could think about.

Did he ever, invite his son to dinner because he did something good?

Has he ever gotten a gift his father presented him out of kindness?

Was he ever proud of him, for something he had done?

A part of him, didn’t want to search for an answer trough his memories, but another worked similar to a machine in overdrive in an attempt to find a positive answer.

But he couldn’t find one.

How lucky for Sam, he thought when his mind got clearer again, that he had put his face into the menu card, or else Blaise might have noticed again, that he looked miserable.

Fortunately, this time, he couldn’t hear the drowning voice of his father inside of him.

That however brought the downside that he didn’t concentrate on the meals on the menu, and when the waitress returned the General panicked for a moment, before, through a quick glance he noticed that they also served steak.

Ordering one with a corncob and potato wedges as side dish together with a small bowl of cocktail sauce, Sam shifted his attention to Blaise, who was ordering Goulash, a sort of stew, native to the home country of the restaurants founder, as the cat explained when the waitress had already left to give their orders to the cook.

“Now I know that this is no Doo-Wop diner, but I thought you might like the setting and the food, sure it is all new, but I thought, hmmmm- “

Looking up he could see how Blaise expression shifted into a worried tone, oh no, did his body language reveal anything? A part of him didn’t want that Blaise got worried for his sake, another told him however why he acted so surprised, Blaise was a journalist, they were supposed to read people.”

Placing their hands on the table, they gave a soft and comforting smile.

“Sam, please tell me what’s wrong, it’s your day off and I can s- I believe you are in discomfort.”

He didn’t want to ruin that day for Blaise.

But he also didn’t want to lie to them.

Breathing out a sigh he looked with his red eyes into the cats.

“It’s just when you talked about your dad I got reminded of my father and…I don’t think he ever showed me that kindness like yours.”

There, it was out, and he was already closing his eyes waiting for…well just anything.

“Oh…that…is very harsh.”

“Eh, it’s nothing, just something, small and long in the past. “

Reaching for his glass the general believed that maybe taking a sip from his drink might help.

“It really isn’t Sam…I’m sorry that this has happened to you.”

The genuine expression of sorrow in Blaise Owens words, startled him, making the white rabbit nearly choke on the strawberry nectar. Coughing a few times before being able to say something.

“What no? You don’t have anything to apologize for…maybe he did it because he thought I would get pampered by any gifts.”

Only after he had spoken out those words, he wondered, why was he defending him?

“Hmpf, a father, gifting something to their child out of true love is what I hardly call getting spoiled. You know what I think Sam-”

Their hands grabbed firmly on the chair and the cats expression changed from being blue to be more serious.

“-when the moment comes where I leave this world, I think I am going to give Seargent Hasenpfeffer a visit to give him a piece of my mind.”

The way Blaise said it, convinced to do that, sure, even if it sounded certainly very, nutty, there was something soothing on the thought that Blaise would go to hell and back for him, even if it sounded very reckless.

Sam couldn’t help himself but let out a faint chuckle.

“What did you just call him?”

“Oh, you know, I thought that could be a nickname he absolutely despises.”

“He would, he really would.”

<…>

The dinner was nice, so was the coffee too, for Sam had asked Blaise to surprise him with one of the many selections, and so the old war journalist chose one, that was called an “Einspänner”, a sweet coffee with half of the glass having been filled with solid whipped cream.

“You have to drink the coffee through the whipped cream-“

The old cat had said to him, and he replied with a curious look.

“-the coffee cools down before it reaches your lips, making it pleasant to drink.”

Blaise was right and he liked this coffee variation very much.

Now, after having paid the bill and chatted for a little while more, they went for a walk through Even town with Blaise telling him about the city, they had grown up in. He liked listening to them, as the old cat told him about every nook and cranny of the town and how towards the end of the small tour Blaise has given him, the two took a walk through the park.

Now they sat in the car again, it was already the beginning of the late evening, but Blaise told him that they needed to visit another shop before returning to the base, a clothing store.

“Let’s be honest, it’s time that I buy myself a few new shirts, and maybe a new suspender, or perhaps even two.”

Sam said nothing but agreed internally with Blaise, all the same looking white shirts they wore, had reached a point where they all showed signs that they had been worn. Stains of different liquids, tears or cuts that had happened over the years, some of them even missed a few buttons, and the cat either way didn’t have any spare buttons to replace them or didn’t care. Even the shirt they wore now, was already in the process of being tattered and had been patched up a few times.

Carefully driving the car into a parking lot, the two friends stepped out in front of a medium sized building, that advertised to have clothing for everyone. Young and old, feminine, masculine or androgyn, tall and small etc. etc.

It came to no surprise, that the selection inside of the store was, overwhelming for Sam, even there where a lot of fashion dolls in different clothing of sizes and colours, showing off the latest trends.

A store clerk, a horse who stood at the cash register noticed the two, although he didn’t look too enthusiastic, maybe hoping for the closing time to come soon, so Sam wondered, the horse did ask them if they needed any help, which both of them declined politely.

Before the white rabbit could say anything to Blaise they were already gone, vanishing into the aisle where a sign informed that shirts could be found. Alone by himself the rabbit decided to take a stroll trough the store, even if it was medium sized, there was no danger in getting lost.

Going beside the clothes-stands he had to admit he wasn’t really impressed with all the range of shirts, trousers and ties he saw, they didn’t look bad and some of the pattern looked interest but nothing that really spoke to him.

Sooner or later Blaise would come and g-

The thought was cast aside suddenly, when his red eyes caught something, only a few steps away from him.

A dress

Everything else around him, was forgotten and time was no longer moving or in any way important for him.

The attention of Sam was all directed at the clothing. An ad, close enough that it was in his view informed him, that the dress was from the “Neo 50s Collection”, no wonder that he responded to it and its pattern, a shade of pink like the peony that had a white dotted pattern.

He knew he shouldn’t but there was that thought, after a long time, again, having found its way out of the wall trough the smallest back-alley crack resurfacing into his mind.

There was the memory, how his sisters dressed him up, literally, and how, good it felt to him back then, wearing and moving in it, of course, behind closed doors, to make sure his noisy brothers wouldn’t suspect anything or worse-

-his father would.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but suddenly, it felt hot and uncomfortable in the air-conditioned clothing store. Perhaps it was for the fact that it felt to him, as if someone was standing close to him a presence Sam really wished, that it would just leave before saying anything.

“Boys don’t wear dresses, never will they-“

Once again, the voice of his father was ringing into his ears, still as fresh as when he had told Sam.

“-as long as I am around! Now cast aside those unmanly thoughts before I-“

He closed his eyes, if he would just leave, backing away from the dress that for a little moment brought him joy, maybe then-

“What a lovely dress-“

Out of reflex his red eyes snapped open, looking directly at the source of the voice.

Blaise Owens, with a few shirts hanging on their left arm, examined the pink-white dotted dress, taking a closer look.

His father was right, wasn’t he? It was unmanly and childish, he was a man, he was supposed to wear shirts and trousers, masculine clothing, for the rest of his life, as society had intended, there was no place for such tomfoolery it-

“-did you know that I used to wear dresses?”

The genuine sounding and calm voice of the old cat broke the contraption in what Sam was caught in, he looked at the cat, questioning, confused, but also, curious in what they had just said.

“It’s true, from the early 2000s until…I think it was 2025, I liked to wear them at galas, parties, ceremonies etc. whenever there was some sort of event but ah, when I stopped attending them, there was no need for this old cat anymore, to feel pretty.”

At this moment Sam did notice the hint of melancholy in Blaise honest voice whose right hand grazed softly over the dress the rabbit admired before.

“Of course, the ones I wore were with darker colours, wine-red, purple or midnight blue for example, I preferred long cocktail dresses to be honest.”

They were so open about it, no attempt to hide or excuse it, just, talking about how it was, and Sam knew, there was no reason for Blaise to lie about this, they said the truth out loud.

Maybe, he should do that too.

“I-I like to-“

This was more difficult done than saying that to himself in his mind, Sam had to admit, but he wanted to speak it out, he felt comfortable around Blaise, who stood next to him, patiently and with a calm smile on their lips.

“-wear th- dresses too.”

Yet, despite all the confidence, the bitter afterthought that Blaise might turn around and say something he would not expect coming out of their mouth was still existing, even if it was small.

“I think the one you looked at, suits you well.”

Now it was gone, there was nothing that remained of those doubts.

“You don’t think it’s strange?”

“Why should I? There is nothing wrong with wanting to try on and wear dresses, does not matter who you are. As long as you feel comfortable, wear whatever you want.”

Their purple eyes looked at Sam sadly, there was no reason to hide from them who made him feel insecure about the way he felt about wanting to wear dresses.

“Father…father said that it was…that..”

It hurt thinking about what his father had said to him, in the past when he was young and tried to bring the topic up once…and what price he paid for even daring to mention it. Sam did not notice how his focus went down to the tiled floor and how his voice escaped him.

Only when he felt a slight weight on one of his shoulders, he looked up again seeing how the old war journalist gave him an understanding look.

“Sam, you are here at the clothing store and your father is…he’s six feet underground in the earth…maybe even deeper. You should wear what you would like to wear.”

The cat excused themselves for a moment, maybe, Sam thought to leave him with their words alone for a while, but maybe also because their left arm grew tired from having all those shirts around.

His attention went back to the dress.

Blaise was right.

The piece of clothing looked nice.

Sam could see himself wearing it, happily, walking around and doing a twist in it, maybe one day even dancing. For a while he allowed those thoughts to come and go before making the conclusion.

No.

He LOVED that dress and he wanted to wear it.

If anything he-

There was a sudden sound of static, and Sam could hear the voice of the store clerk.

Announcing that the store would close now.

For a moment, he could feel a bit of anger building up, how this was not fair, then it turned into frustration before allowing it to be released from his body by exhaling deeply.

Well, he just blew his chance for today.

Seeing Blaise appearing behind a wardrobe he passed him, ready to leave the shop as the other customers already did.

However, his friend did not move an inch, even when Sam was halfway to the exit, he could see them looking absent minded at another piece of clothing.

Could it be that they didn’t hear it?

Returning to the old war journalist, he approached them calmly.

“Blaise, the store is closing, we need to go.”

“It certainly is closing…but not for us, there is still one hour left.”

Right, now Blaise was confusing him.

“What do you mean?”

“I might have been able to convince the store clerk, to close the shop one hour earlier, and allow us to remain, the miracle of monetary…influence.”

“…monetary influence…Blaise-“

Then it suddenly hit him, especially now that the old cat was putting their purse back into the pocket of their trouser.

“-you bribed him.”

He was honestly surprised, how much money did Blaise just spend for that, but most importantly…why?

“I thought you might feel more comfortable, if it is just the two of us, when you want to try on that dress, or maybe even more than one. You have one hour, all for yourself, I can of course leave too, if you want.”

Stunned he looked for a moment at his friend, he knew him well, but should he really be surprised? They have known each other for a while now, and Blaise Owens was after all, a journalist.”

“No, stay, please. I admit…I think I wouldn’t have felt as comfortable doing it, with all the people around, staring.”

“So what do you say my friend-“

Taking carefully the white-pink dot pattern dress from the plastic hanger, they held it in both of their arms, reaching towards Sam with a kind smile on their face.

“-has the time come, where you will be, yourself?”

When his hands touched the fabric he could feel, how his heart started to warm up and beat faster in rhythm, spreading trough his whole body, as if a new aura emerged, one not full of insecurity and worry, but with acceptance and welcome for who he was. Perhaps it would only last for this one hour, but Sam knew that he would make the best of it.

Blaise still stood there, looking at him with curiosity, however something clicked inside of the generals mind, his eyes looked behind the old cat, where a few other dresses were showcased, as if faith wanted him to find something, he saw a dress that Sam thought, would suit perfect for what he had in mind.

“I will, but only-“

Stepping behind them, he could feel how the old war journalist turned around, with questions in their head, wondering what he was doing as he approached the dress, long and striped with the colours black and violet. Now it was Sam who took the hanger, presenting the Dress he had chose to Blaise Owens.

“-if you wear this one, please Blaise, you deserve it too.”

For a short moment the cat was left speechless, leaving their mouth open as they exhaled a gasp of surprise and their eyes widening , Sam knew that they clearly didn’t expect this move, but soon their mouth formed into a smile again, one that clearly showed that they were touched by their friends gesture.

Saying nothing, they took it, giving each other one last glance as they both vanished into the changing booths.

Without holding back, Sam undressed himself from his uniform that he nearly wore every day.

Carefully he began to take the dress into his hands again and began to put it on. Feeling how the cool fabric, started to warm up around his fur was something, that he had not noticed for, what felt like decades at this point. Sam was not sure how long he was in the changing booth, staring at the mirror who was his only company in the wooden box, all the white rabbit knew was that it happened, automatically, as if he was accustomed to wear a dress every day when he put it one, he never, really did so himself yet it felt, familiar, as if his sisters, despite not being here, where helping him to get inside of the dress, supporting his decision, even beyond their lives.

Moving his head out slowly from the cubicle he took a quick glance with his red eyes, to make sure no one else, besides him and Blaise where there. Releasing a sigh when it was confirmed that he was alone, he stepped outside, he was for the moment alone with his thoughts whilst looking at himself, wondering if the clothing fit right and yes, it did and how comfortable it was to wear. Without noticing himself, a smile formed on his face. It felt so nice, and pleasant wearing the white-pink dotted dress.

His thoughts suddenly came to a halt when the white rabbit heard annoyed grunting coming from the neighbouring changing booth, mumbling, and cursing emerged.

“Will you just- arg come on- that’s just- hnnnnnn-“

Approaching the cubicle Sam was wondering if the old cat was in the need of any assistance with the dress.

“Blaise, is everything alright, do you need help?”

“No….no…I just forgot how, difficult it is to get into a dress with fur, as fluffy as mine, just, give me a second a- there we go, finally.”

Unlike Sam, Blaise went out of the booth quickly and there they stood, in front of each other now, in silence whilst wearing the dresses, one pink with white dots in a fashion of the 50s, the other striped in the colour’s violet-black intended to be worn at cocktail parties.

For a while, they stood in silence looking at each other in the clothing, both have not worn for the first time in decades. Just the two of them and no one else around to say anything. It was Blaise, who broke the silence as once again, a warm smile appeared on his face.

“You look wonderful my friend. I told you it would suit you well.”

Sam, he remained silent, not out of rudeness, but because he was at a loss of words right now.

Everything on that situation felt good and made him lucky. The warmth that began to spread all over his body, that he was able to express himself, wearing, what he wanted for so long. How comfortable and well it felt, with only one person next to him, who accepted him the way he is, wearing themselves a dress and encouraged him to do so. There was no negative thought or emotion in his mind for the moment, all Sam felt was true, happiness.

He began to chuckle, and quickly it turned into a laugh.

Not because he thought there was something funny or that he was making fun of himself but rather, out of relieve. It had been so long, since he felt such a marvellous feeling in himself, all the worries and pain gone, just the wholesome feeling of finally, for this short moment, being who he wanted to be, it was overwhelming. As if his subconsciousness was moving his body, he began to approach Blaise Owens with every step closer and before Sam knew it, he had already embraced the old cat into a tight hug.

They were laughing too, out of joy for their friend who looked so full of relish, as if a great burden had been taken away from him. The rabbit looked so relieved to have finally gotten the chance, to be who he wanted to be. Blaise saw, how tears have formed in the corner of the rabbits eyes, and the old cat hugged Sam even more in response, holding him close to themself, they had to admit, seeing their friend so relieved, caused tears of happiness to emerge in their eyes too. Perhaps it was meant to be a thought from the rabbit he spoke out on accident, given how quietly he whispered it, but despite that, Blaise Owens heard it very well.

“Thank you, Blaise, thank you.”

<…>

The hour passed quicker than both had anticipated, and even if they were to enjoy the time in the clothing store, both admitted to themselves quietly, that it was over too soon.

Sitting in the off-road vehicle, Sam was looking out into the dessert that was engulfed by the darkness of the night and Blaise focus was on the road.

It was a nice day off, from all the duties or other shenanigans, most likely his death, that would have happened usually, and the general knew that he would never forget it, yet, now that they were getting closer to the Wrath base, there was the unwellness and worried feeling, that Blaise, given their “little project” would be paying a price for that.

“Ah, I nearly forgot, there is something, under your seat you might, appreciate.”

Pointing into his direction, Blaise, not smoking as they usually would, turned their attention back to the road.

Sam reached for the ground and with a bit of an effort felt something paper like, pulling it out underneath the seat he occupied, the rabbit saw that it was a beige folder which he immediately opened, reading the content of the first page, his red eyes snapped open, whispering to himself the title of the paper, that turned out to be a contract.

“Non-disclosure agreement”

Reading trough it, it basically stated that Blaise Owens was not allowed to talk with anyone about what had transpired today, with the exception of Sam himself, and that only in private. That all the information would be handled confidentially and not revealed to anyone. The cat had already signed the contract, all it needed now was the generals signature to be ratified.

“I know, that this looks perhaps a tad extreme-“

Reaching down the cat took out a pen that laid next to the ashtray, giving it to Sam to sign the contract.

“-but I want you to know Sam, that I am not going to tell anyone, not a soul, what had happened today. All I know is that we were gathering information for World Commander Day.”

Sam, taking the pen was surprised by how, well prepared Blaise was, but also appreciated how Blaise ensured to keep everything that had happened today, for themselves, he knew that his friend, would not reveal It to anyone. Quickly he signed the document with a smile on his face.

“Right, right. I still appreciate the transparency my friend, you know me so well.”

“In the folder you will also find the article about World Commander Day, which I wrote yesterday. It’s in physical form because it’s more of a personal piece for Grizzlys eyes only, there is, no way that I am going to publish this.”

Sam skimmed trough it, that was a solid article about Commander Grizzly, as he knew it from Blaise, perhaps, this time not as dry and fact based as usual, but also not the sweet self-aggrandizing words that his superior would wish to read.

“Now, the article is not propaganda, it is the truth, I might just have, worded certain things nicer, but again, it’s the truth. I also might have, added a bit tongue-in-cheek wording but that is going to go over Grizzlys head.”

At this point, they had already reached the gates of the base that slowly opened for the vehicle to enter. The floodlight reflected on the cars paint as they drove to one of the parking spots and stopped the engine and pulled on the fixing break. Before Sam could step out, Blaise stopped him with a hand sign.

“One more thing, we don’t want to make Commander Grizzly suspicious, do we?”

Grabbing under the drivers seat, the old cat pulled out a small brown box before opening it and revealing a mug that said:

“World Greatest Commander #1”

Blaise handed the present for the commander to Sam, the white rabbit didn’t know where Blaise had found it, but he knew that Grizzly would like it, either way going to use it every day from now on or placing it on his desk for everybody to see.

“I am sure the commander is going to appreciate the gift, on, World Commander Day.”

Putting quotation marks into the air when he said the last part, he couldn’t help but smile again, thinking about the day as he took the small box and the peony Blaise had gifted him earlier, even if the voice of his father had shaken him, all in all, he really enjoyed the day. Looking at the flower his glance shifted to the old cat.

“I can’t remember anyone ever doing something like that for me…thanks Blaise.”

Knowing that the time has come, where Sam would return to the base and his usually duties, the old war journalist gave him a friendly smile as well before they would part.

“For you Sam, always.”

#Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #Blaise Owens RKZ #TW: Smoking #TW: Anxiety

[bowlerhatwearer]

A birthday to remember

TW: Blood, TW: Death, TW: Smoking

Characters: Commander Grizzly (Carlos Rojas), Samuel Cottontail, Ian Snapshot, Blaise Owens.

Originally written: 18th September 2022

~~

He really shouldn’t have expected anything on his birthday.

But instead, Commander Grizzly used it, to hold a speech, he claimed was for him, but actually turned out to be used, to boast about how he, the great leader of the Wrath, had shown mercy to the general, as he allowed him to join his organisation so generously and showing mercy.

Fortunately Sam was partly standing behind his superior, or else he or the soldiers gathered could have seen how he was rolling with his eyes.

This was a waste of time.

After all, he wasn’t getting older anyway any more, so why celebrate something that had turned redundant?

That he was going to celebrate a day that was like any other, were the curse could strike any moment now?

Sooner or later, he would be dying, and now he had to waste the hours that remained without the curse taking effect, by listening to the bears talking.

Releasing a slow breath that was mixed with a sigh, he placed his hand at his chest, feeling the content of his pocket that was sewn on the inside of his uniform.

Even on his birthday, he was not safe from the fate, he had brought on himself

Only one thing did the rabbit wonder about, because it was, unusual.

Just were was Blaise Owens?

The old war journalist was known for their punctuality, next to their constant smoking of cigars of course, and yet, they were late, which as far as Sam knew, they never where before.

It was out of questions that they had forgotten, yesterday they still talked about it, with the general and while they said they would bring him a present in the days following his birthday, they told him they would show up at the base, with at least a little something as a foretaste.

Just in that moment he heard heavy footsteps, and apparently they were loud enough for even making the commander interrupt his own speech.

“Ah, look who has finally cared to join us, the journalist with their many questions, now where was I...yes the priority why on birthdays, you should always remember what is most important...me-”

Continuing his speech, Sam focused his attention to the old pallas’s cat instead who started to approach him, making his eyes go wide, in surprise, or perhaps rather, shock.

They looked terrible, now, their clothing looked as usual, but, in their face it appeared as if they had seen...something that had shaken them trough their core, with their movement being more automatic than, controlled by themself.

That, as well as that they held in their left hand a cigar where they took in short breaks a pull, which was odd, because even Blaise, usually did not smoke inside of buildings, that were not their own home.

Were they perhaps sick? Or did they drive over some animal perhaps on their way to their base? Maybe their age was just starting to catch up on them.

Sam only could form theories, when he suddenly felt a soft nudge on his arm, startling for a moment because he didn’t notice, just, how close Blaise had come to him in the time he was occupies thinking.

“I have brought you a little something, h-happy birthday g-general.”

Despite their best attempts to give a kind smile, Sam could see how the cat forced themselves to that expression, but before he could say anything at the moment, the old cat held something in their right hand, in his view.

It was a single cupcake with a birthday candle put on top, that had yet to be lit.

He would have recognised the paper the sweet, everywhere, even from miles away, it was from the very same bakery the general loves to visit when he has time, which was often enough for him to have a loyalty card of the place.

On his next visit, he would get a free cupcake, similar to the one Blaise still held next to him.

Taking the dessert from the old, slightly shaking old cat, he gave them a silent expression of gratitude, but decided, given the condition Blaise was in, they would ask them what was wrong.

“Blaise, are you not feeling well?”

Although he whispered it towards the war journalist, he knew that they understood him loud and clear, especially when they attempted to scuffled to him as carefully as possible, their eyes looking left and right, as if they were followed, before starting to form words.

“S-am, is there a place were we could talk, more discreet.”

Despite how silent the voice was, it sounded very serious, and, that meant something, but even if it was, the general knew he couldn’t move away.

“Blaise, as long as the commander is holding one of his speeches, no one can really leave.”

Scratching their arm, they gave him a desperate look

“Please it’s, very urgent, there was an incident, that….that concerns you.”

Alright, this really, gave him an unwell feeling in his guts, Blaise voice sounded really tense and sharp.

“Listen, as soon as he is finished we can talk, but if it’s really important, just whisper it, very quietly in my ear.”

When they took a strong pull from their cigar, they exhaled the smoke onto the floor, before getting very close to the white rabbit.

“Twenty former, high ranking army personnel have been brutally massacred at a top secret government bunker facility in the Evergreen woods, two are still missing-”

Receiving such news, it was hard for the rabbit not to blurt something out, or keeping a straight face, but, all he did was gulping down some air as the old war journalist continued.

“-no one should have known about this place and yet it still got exposed...from what I have heard and...seen, this was the work of a single person who got in there trough a disguise.”

Once again they took another pull of their cigar, keeping for a moment the smoke in their mouth, before looking away and releasing it.

This was, really something, but, he was not sure what to think or say, he had left the army ages ago, so, he had to wonder, why exactly Blaise was telling him that, but, he noticed that they were not finished yet.

“I am telling you this because I recognised a few names Sam, and I am very concerned, they were all part of the brass, but were all subordinated to a superior during their active service...it was not hard to find out who they took orders from, Sam I have the rising suspicion th-”

Before they were able to finish what they wanted to say, Blaise voice, as well as that of commander Grizzly was drowned out by a screeching sound.

A buzzsaw?

With everyone obviously hearing it, the bear turned around with an, clearly disgruntled expression.

“General, why was I not informed that the base refurbishment would happen today?”

“They, aren’t sir, they are supposed to happen next week.”

“Then who is making this sound?”

Even if Sam could have given the bear an answer, they all were distracted when the sound grew louder, and the wall were they originated, started to spark, as something cut trough it quickly.

Not a word was spoken, when the sound stopped, and the piece of the wall that was cut through, lost its balance and fell with a tremoring sound on the ground, making it shake slightly.

Probably annoyed by the unordered new entrance and what it would cost him, Commander Grizzly growled.

“Soldiers, give whoever did this a warm welcome.”

As he snapped his fingers, the soldiers present, immediately pointed their guns and rifles at the direction of the square opening.

Some of the soldiers began to approach it when suddenly two small object got thrown trough it, there was of course immediately discomfort, with Commander Grizzly hiding behind Sam in panic, as they all realised that it were two grenades.

Yet, before anyone could have acted or said anything, grey smoke already poured out of the metal containers, making the soldiers start to loose their focus and coughing, a few even lowering their weapons.

With the commander still standing behind Sam, his view shifted to Blaise who was violently coughing from the smoke, however the general decided to hold back an ironic remark, as they saw how much it affected the old cat, who accidentally from the shaking, dropped their cigar that vanished under the thick layers of smoke.

Sam wanted to ask them if they were alright, but before he had a chance, a painful scream echoed trough the room, and he focused on that instead.

It was followed by another, and then one more, before more and more of the soldiers started to shout in panic as they got attacked by an unknown and unseen assailant.

There was at first the thought, if perhaps the soldiers, in their own panic were beating themselves up, but given that no one fired a shot, and how they heard quick movement, Sam realised that this was an outside force.

He wondered when he would be next, however, despite what was going on, backed up a little, making Blaise press their body against the wall, if they would be trying to harm their friend...or the commander than they had to go trough him, whoever they were.

Finally, the smoke started to disperse, escaping trough the hole, the grenades and the attacker had come from.

On the ground laid the soldiers, who moments ago were ready and eager to riddle their assigned target with bullets, now they all held their stomachs and heads, as if they got beaten up by a school yard bully, but at least, it looked as if none of them were seriously harmed, and instead the attackers goal was merely to disarm them.

Who, for the first time Sam saw now.

They were, rather small given that they had just caused a bunch of soldier being unable to move.

Even smaller than himself, at least, one head shorter than he was, despite the mask they wore, hearing their breathing, the general knew that they were a cat, or assumed so, given that the helmet looked very, cat-shaped.

“Finally, my mission is coming to an end.”

He could hear, how the short cat’s voice sounded distorted, very likely from the mask they wore.

“Oh no…”

Very faintly was it spoken, but, when turning around Sam saw how Blaise usually tired looking violet eyes, have been snapped wide open as they observed they attacker.

Noticing that they held in one hand a box, they automatically looked at the other, were he held a bundle, causing Sam’s eyes to go wide.

It were dog-tags, each one of them covered in dried up blood, perhaps around twenty of them.

No, it were exactly, twenty dog tags.

He had not to think quick, to know, just, who was standing in front of him now.

Maybe it was seeing the assailants size or something else, but Commander Grizzly stepped away from the general, growling with intimidation at the small cat, who continued to be unimpressed by the tall bears performance.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but if you believe your magic trick is impressing anyone you little twerp then you thought wrong. I am the leader of this organisation, and I don’t see it kindly if someone disturbs MY speeches, I WILL bring you down, even if it costs me my whole base, fight to the last man and have to bring you down myself you wannabe big shot!”

The general had to admit, the Commanders rant left his speechless, this was very honourable from the bear.

However, it appeared as if the cat had not listened, or remained unimpressed, instead, they pointed into the direction of Sam, pointing with directly with their finger at him, while the rest of their hand continued to hold the bundle of tainted dog-tags.

“I only care about him, give the bunny to me and everyone else will be spared. This quarrel only involves me and the general.”

Grizzly looked at Sam, then the cat, before giving a shrug.

“Ok, he’s yours.”

He really shouldn’t have expected anything else from his commander, and yet, he could not help himself but feel offended.

“What?!”

“Before I forget general, I brought you a little...birthday present.”

Making a curtsy, they slid the box they had held until now, into the rabbit’s direction, were it touched the rabbits feet.

Despite not really wanting to, he picked it up, opening it slowly and fearing for the worst, like a severed head or, perhaps someone having been turned into pizza.

However, to his own surprise, it was a buttercream cake as you got it from every cake shop, but his relieve soon vanished, when he read what was written on the dessert with red frosting.

“You are going to die now ^^”

Looking up again, he caught the cat in the right moment as they were loading their gun with a magazine and unlocked it, not bothering to look at Sam when they addressed him.

“It’s the best if you just stand still, that makes things just easier for both of us.”

Pushing the box with the cake into his commanders hands, Sam really wasn’t sure what to do now, would fleeing even be an option at this point?

Grizzly on the other hand was delighted by the surprise present.

“For me, ahhh, good this day is paying off after all wh- hey-”

At first Sam assumed that it was the message in frosting, which was for him, insulted the commander, who closed the lid of the box, no longer appearing interested in it.

“-there is marzipan on top of it, a fine cake got completely ruined.”

Lowering their gun, the cats attention shifted to the bear.

“I know, right? I wanted a classical buttercream cake, but the bakery insisted on putting marzipan on it, telling me I can remove it if I don’t want to eat it.”

“Fools, that just ruins the surface.”

“Exactly, I told them that but did they listen? Of course not.”

“It’s better to make things yourself at this point, I kno-”

Wondering if his brain was in a sort of fever dream and he just imagined the conversation before his lights would be put out, Sam felt how someone was moving his arm, trying to get him to move.”

Blaise Owens was desperately pulling on him, trying to get the rabbit to move.

“Come on, come on while he is distracted, lets move.”

Pleadingly the old cat looked at him, begging him to come with him, so there would be at least a small chance, that he would survive that day.

At first, he didn’t notice it himself, but slowly he realised, how his legs started to move on their own, first going, then increasing their speed steadily, with Blaise still holding his hand as they both began to ran.

“Hey- don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt a talk with fleeing.”

Flinching, Sam could not describe just, how angry he felt at Grizzly right now.

In the corner of his eyes, when he had turned his head around, he could see the masked cat, observing them and their increasing distance between him and his assassin.

“So you have chosen to get yourself involved in this Blaise, very well, this is on you now.”

Before he knew it, a bullet flew past them, before it penetrated the wall next to them.

With another sound being added, Sam knew now, that a hunt against him, had officially begun.

The rabbit broke himself free from Blaise grip, trying to run in zigzag in the hallway as good as this was possible, as both of them made a turn at a corner, two additional bullets flew into the wall.

He could feel his lungs burning, but this was nothing compared to the old cat that accompanied him, who was wheezing as if they were in their last breaths, it was now Sam who had taken the lead, having taken the hand of the old cat as if they were a child on their first day of school.

Although Sam, did feel touched that Blaise pushed him to run away, he also could feel resentment of the situation, but not because of himself, even if they were running for their lives now, he had to say what was on his mind.

“What were you thinking?! You’re putting your own life at risk, why Blaise, I would have come back tomorrow?”

Gasping for air, the old cat gave him a determined look, despite the watery eyes from how much their own breathing organs must hurt right now.

“First, it’s your birthday-”

Their eyes, grew wider when both noticed, how the entrance of the base became larger with every step. However the cat was still behind them, having shot again at them, failing to hit them, only within a few inches.

“-and secondly, I will not allow that he will get his way for revenge justified or not!”

Before he could ask what the retired war journalist meant, they were coughing and another bullet flew past them, close to the door controls, as they ran outside, the old cat immediately pointing at their vehicle that was parked close.

However, the general hastily pressed a button at the control panel that was next to him, causing the door to slowly close.

Even if this assassin could reach the door in time, he still would be slowed down, even if only for a little bit.

Quickly they both ran to the car, an off-road vehicle that at by now, Sam knew very well, having sat in the passenger seat often enough at this point.

Just as he was doing now, with a bit of effort he was able to pull himself up into the seat, with the old cat and driver waiting anxiously, starting the engine and driving before Sam had a chance to put on the seatbelt.

As they started to move, the cat stepped on the gas pedal with as much strength as it was possible to them, causing the rabbit to be pressed against the seat and to clamp his hands on his knees.

Luckily, at this moment the gate that was the entrance to the base, was still open, or else, so the general assumed, Blaise would have simply driven trough it not caring for the damage this would have caused.

The moment they were outside of it, Blaise took another cigar in their mouth, lighting it up with the vehicles cigarette lighter, taking a pull as it helped calming them down as Sam noticed.

“This is bad, it’s really bad…..I- didn’t knew that of all people, it would be him but now...it makes sense. I-”

For a moment they looked at the rabbit, their violet eyes staring into him, tense and certainly troubled.

“-I don’t know were to go, Ian will locate us, no matter what, but I will not allow it that he hurts you Sam, or anyone else. I need to think of something fast.”

He was not sure, what to think about that, too much, was going on right now, him still breathing in and out sharply and thinking aboutwhat had just transpired in mere minutes, clearly, Sam had to admit, he liked surprises, but this was even for him, too much action for one day.

Catching his breath and rhythm, he was finally able to say something.

“Who is this Ian, and why does he want to kill me?!”

The old cat took another deep pull from their cigar, they slowly exhaled the smoke, before taking another glance at Sam, looking at him with an apologetic look, as if all of this was their fault.

“Ian Snapshot, a black-footed cat was a former colleague of mine, but after, certain events you are familiar with, they have decided to become a bounty hunter and…killer for hire.”

“So someone had hired him to kill me...right?”

One again they inhaled some of the glimmering tobacco before breathing it out with a shake, before they continued.

“No...this is a personal vendetta, and I can guess why.”

Sam could see, how Blaise felt uncomfortable talking about it, as if, it caused him aches and struggled with it, yet, decided that it was for the best, to release what they needed to say, however, the general, felt anger going trough his body, not directed against Blaise of course.

“What?! I don’t even know that guy?! I have messed up a lot in my life Blaise, but I would remember if it involved this Ian Snapshot.”

They looked at him with a pained expression, closing their eyes for a moment, wanting to continue what they knew, perhaps giving him an answer, but before they knew it, the sound of suddenly cracking glass alarmed them, with both ducking as three additional bullets went trough the rear window, and left trough the wind shield, feeling now even more panic and giving Blaise a glance as well, it appeared as if they once again, had the luck to remain unharmed.

As they took the drivers wheel in both hands, Blaise began to drive as good as possible left and right, fortunately there was no other vehicle coming from the side.

Giving at first the rear-view mirror and then the right side mirror a glance, Sam saw that a black car was driving behind them, one that was clearly smaller compared to Blaise’s vehicle, and appeared to have been made in the 1930s or maybe 40s, it had a silvery car grill that looked very striking.

Slowly Ian’s automobile was catching up on them, and the general felt, that it was just a matter of time until the contract killer would start shooting again.

Looking at Blaise, Sam noticed how their hands were gripping firmly the stirring wheel, as they sat up and took another pull from their cigar before gritting their teeth.

“Oh that’s it!”

As the speed began to increase, Blaise looked at the street, and seeing that it was mostly straight took a moment to look at their front seat passenger.

“He may turn my off-road vehicle into a pile of Swiss cheese, hit or kill me any moment now, but I will not allow it that he hurts you or any bystanders in his madness for revenge-”

Gripping the gearstick as if they were strangling it, the rabbit wondered if Blaise would rip it out in their anger any moment now, as they shifted it to a greater number. Looking at the street again, the old cat let out a sigh, looking a bit sorrowful, trying to focus on the street.

“-in my glovebox there is something that might help putting an end to this, I don’t like it, but in this case, I don’t see any other choice, just, make sure no one else is out there when you use it.”

Putting his thump and index finger on the press key of the storage device, the generals eyes went wide, when they saw and realised what Blaise Owens was talking about.

In front of him laid a revolver in the glovebox, ready to be taken out, it was, clearly an older model and although other thoughts were in his mind right now, Sam estimates that it was one from the last century. The firearm appeared to be a standard model and there was nothing special about it, except for the fact that it appeared to be well maintained by its owner.

“Blaise I- I didn’t knew you owned a gun.”

Once again they let out a sigh, before taking a swift pull from their cigar, as if they regretted having it in their possession.

“It’s for emergencies only, and mostly to scare away people or wild animals, if the worst come to the worst...but I guess that’s now one of those moments….it’s loaded,”

Looking away from the road again, Blaise expression, although still appearing hurt from how things turned out today, also showed determination, knowing that it would now come, to this.

“Be my guest and be my gunner.”

After they spoke this, they silently brought their attention back to the street, continuing to drive as fast as that was heir vehicle could go

Taking another glance at the shining metal, Sam nodded before deciding to use the crank at the door to open the window.

His first action after pushing his head out, was to immediately to get it in again, not a second too late another bullet went directly into the side-view mirror, causing the reflecting plastic to crack from the pressure of the metal.

Carefully looking out again, Ian was on the opposite window of his car, with Ian apparently not caring, that no one was holding the stirring wheel at the moment as he focused on Sam.

While it had been a while since he held a real colt in his hand, the general still knew by heart how to use it as he unlocked it, before starting to aim at the black footed cat.

Ian appeared surprised by the turn of events, because instead of aiming at Sam, he vanished into the car again, however, the rabbits hopes he might move to the stirring wheel, or maybe even turn finally around, were shattered when he saw how the catt attempted to open the other car window, probably to be a bit safer from getting shot.

Grunting in annoyance, there was suddenly an idea that came into his mind, the risks were high, but perhaps it could work to their advantage.

No longer was the white rabbit aiming at Ian, but instead at the front wheel, on the left side, and before the cat noticed, or had time to react, Sam had already pulled the rigger.

Feeling the recoil, which he had not sensed for some time since the last time he held such a gun, the general was worried he might drop the gun, causing it to fall on the street, but to his relieve, it remained firmly in his hand.

The same could not be said about Ian Snapshots car, with Sam’s eyes growing big, when he noticed that the wheel looked quiet, wrecked and no longer of being of much use.

Right and left did the car drift and he could see how his would-be-assassin attempted everything to regain control, and yet, he was unable to catch up with them any more, slowly vanishing from their view.

Glancing at the revolver, the general could not help but wonder, what sort of ammunition Blaise had put into their gun.

Yet before he could ask, his focus shifted to the old war journalist, who was muttering trough his breath.

“Oh no…”

Moving his head, for a moment Sam tensed up, wondering if Ian had already caught up to them, but, when no black car and neither cat appeared, he looked at the front, seeing a sign, what he assumed caused Blaise’s reaction.

“Welcome to Goldroot Town”

Sighing, the old cat was shaking their head.

“I-I didn’t knew we were driving that way, Ian won’t stop, not even at a populated place as this one.”

Continuing to move, they both could already see how houses were appearing in front of them, and before both knew it, were already in the town.

This was apparently not the only concern, for, the off-road vehicle started to slow down, before ultimately coming to a halt.

While having used the gun, Sam was focused on that, his worries of the mad assailant re-appearing any moment now, started to grow with each passing moment, they were not driving.

“W-why are we not moving, what’s going on?”

Smoking their cigar, Blaise pointed at the street, that a few people were crossing, despite the town having a more, vintage flair, there were still traffic lights to regulate the streets, and currently it was on red.

Sam groaned in discomfort of the situation, he felt restless and was wondering if he perhaps should step out of the car and try to hide in one of the buildings, yet, with how the black-footed cat was following them around, he had the gnawing feeling if they would notice, he was no longer in the cat. Ian would search through each building...no matter how many obstacles were in his way...or people.

Argh, pressing against his head he tried to remember whenever he had angered a person with the name “Ian Snapshot”, but there was nothing, absolutely not a single memory he remembered about having done anything to a person with that name.

However, before he could have continued to think about it, or ask Blaise, a scream suddenly ringed through his ears, one that came from outside of the vehicle he was in.

Seeing a pair who was hastily pushing their baby stroller to safety on the other side of the street, into a building, the rabbit looked behind him, when his eyes turned small.

The contract killers car was leaning against the pavement, with the wheel Sam had shot, having been nearly completely grated away on the street, together with the wheel rim that was halfway gone. But that was not what concerned the general, it was rather, the open car door and what he was witnessing at the moment.

Ian Snapshot stood next to a red car that had no ceiling, looking like a roadster and its driver quickly getting out of it because the black footed cat pointed his gun at them, with the driver falling on the ground in their fear of getting harmed or worse, hastily collecting themselves and running away, and Ian taking over the car’s ownership, but not before throwing something on the back seats of the car.

Sam’s view returned to Blaise, who apparently had seen as well what had just transpired, yet, their hands remained on the drivers wheel with their fingers tapping nervously on it, and their focus being again on the traffic light, which was still red.

“Blaise what are you waiting for, we got to move!”

“I-I can’t the light it-”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Sam felt as if he could rip his ears out

“Will you forget the light, there is no one on the road any more!”

The old cat were biting their tongue before responding.

“But someone could still try to flee and has to get to the other side!”

“Yes and we might not have that chance if you don’t drive now!”

Gritting their teeth, Blaise head twisted into the generals direction, taking their cigar out and although they attempted to remain calm, it was clear that their patience was running thin.

“I, will not, put innocent lives in dangers, I am not Ian.”

Before he could have retorted, they both saw how the red light, had already turned to yellow, and now green, prompting Sam to shout.

“Move, move!”

Stepping on the gas pedal again, the vehicle started to regain its speed.

However, this was only a small consolation for the general, who saw that the red sports-car was catching up on them, and much faster than Ian’s old car, given that the red one, could drive more miles per hour, than Blaise’s.

The old manul cat meanwhile, looked at the street again as they tried to drive as quickly away from Ian as possible. Making Sam wonder if they had ignored their own words, they had said merely seconds ago, but, when he saw how the streets were empty, and no one was to be seen, together with the fact that the traffic lights were at this moment all turned to green, Sam understood that the old war journalist, was taken every chance and risk they had now, to escape their pursuer and not getting someone else roped into this.

Once again the general looked out of the window, ready to shoot the black-footed cat, however before he knew it, bullets began to fly again into his direction, before he could have found the time to pull the trigger of the revolver.

Unlike his own car, Ian Snapshot had this time, not to lean out of a window to shoot at them, which brought him an advantage against Sam.

Ducking he could hear how once again projectiles hit the windscreen, with most of the holes having been on his side at this point, the general could feel his heart racing, with his fight or flight response going into overdrive, but he knew, that right now there was not a lot he could do, only sitting in seat and hoping for the best.

“That guy is really not going to give up on me is he?!”

He knew of course the answer to that question, and that this would continue, with either way getting rid of Ian, or him dying.

Noticing the in the white rabbits view never ending speed, he took a glance at Blaise who bit not only on their cigar but tongue as well, the way they stepped on the gas pedal this time, it made Sam wonder if they were going to push it trough the vehicles floor.

Pressing himself forward Sam thought if there was a specific reason why the old war journalist began to drive even faster, or just because Ian catching on to them, was imminent, and when he saw what he assumed was the reason, his eyes grew wider every passing moment.

In front of them was a junction, and from what he noticed, there were on the left side vehicles, ready to drive as soon as the traffic light would switch to green on their side.

But now, it was still their turn, however, from their distant, the rabbit knew, they very likely, couldn’t possible make it, either way having to stop, or Blaise risking an accident, and the latter was very unlikely, given the old cat’s usually safer style of driving.

However Blaise Owens did not stop, their violet eyes only looked at the street as they shifted to the last gear level, causing the rabbits head to get pressed into the backrest while the driver took another pull of their cigar.

They were not going to stop, were they?

From one second to another, green changed to yellow, and as if a signal for the white rabbit, he closed his eyes, fearing for the worst and counting the seconds until this car would be noting more that scrap metal, and them involuntary crash test dummies.

But, when, the estimated time it would have needed, to turn them into pancakes was over, he carefully dared to open one eye, and then the other.

They had made it safety over the junction, causing him to breath out in relieve.

Yet, before he could have said anything to Blaise, either way praise or a scolding for a lifetime for nearly killing him but most importantly themself, there was the sound of a loud crash, the fate he had feared they would meet, having happened to someone else instead.

It was not hard for him to guess who it was, yet, Sam dared to turn his head around, a truck was blocking the view, the same one, he assumed the other driver had just crashed into, and given only one person was behind them, it was, very likely Ian Snapshot.

Even if a part of his mind told him, that it would be over now, with the assailant surely, being too injured or worse, to hunt him any longer, he was still wary about the situation, and decided to be careful.

The old cat meanwhile, started to carefully slow down, they were still in the city, extinguishing their cigar, they let out a sigh, breathing in and out steadily, they looked troubled and something told the general, it was not only because of the wild chase.

“Blaise, why does Ian want to hunt me, you know it, don’t you?”

How suddenly they looked at him, with their eyes, for a moment it appeared as if they flashed up, before they breathed out with a heavy heart, looking back through the damaged wind shield.

“One day, it was before we both ended up in the labour camp, Ian got the message that his home was completely annihilated, it was a small and, homely village at the states border, it happened during the open conflict of the Army,.and the Wrath. The inhabitants wanted to live and survive...so the settlement proclaimed neutrality-”

Sam could feel, how he gasped for air, even with this one sentence, he knew that he wasn’t going to like what would follow.

“-everything got razed to the ground, no brick that did no end somewhere else...very few survived...the investigation concluded that it was artillery fire from the government army, that destroyed and killed so much-

Seeing their left arm shift, the rabbit noticed how Blaise was, apparently searching on their body if they had somewhere still a cigar left and indeed, they found a smaller one, in the pocket of their vest, putting it into their mouth, but not lighting it yet, continuing their briefing.

“-the government never paid any reparations...only giving a half-hearted apology in return, saying it was, in their own words and statement, collateral damage.”

It was the last two words that Blaise said out, bitter, as if they tried to spew it out because of the horrible taste it left into their mouth.

With his heart racing faster, a part of him didn’t want to hear it, but, knew, that he had to. It was important that he knew the whole story, to understand why Ian wanted to hunt him down.

“The army personnel...the commanding officers who were responsible for the attack...they were yours...all twenty were direct subordinate and took orders from General Sam. Cottontail. With them death, he is now coming for you, wanting to kill everyone who was involved.”

His mind was working and shifting like clockwork, every gear turning as fast as they could, he searched and searched, trying to find the right puzzle piece so that it would fit in, and yet, despite his best efforts, nothing, all was blanc, no matter how hard he tried to search trough all the wrongdoings and crimes he has committed trough the years in the army, to put an end to the war, there was nothing he could find, that had a connection with a village at the states borders.

“N-no I-I never, I-I didn’t. Blaise you got to believe me! I can’t remember having ordered something like that! I know I messed up a lot, but I did not order an artillery strike over a village that declared itself neutral, I swear!”

But, was it true? Did he meant it? Of course and yet, doubt over his own words spread through his mind, and if he did it? If he personally gave the orders for such an attack and he just forgot because he deemed it as not important, seeing those lives he had taken as, irrelevant. So small that he just, didn’t give it a single thought any more?”

The general could feel how his head turned dizzy, and began to hurt, however, the short pad he felt on his shoulders, helped him to focus on something else, as the old cat retracted their hand back to the stirring wheel.

“Sam, I believe you that you were not directly involved in this attack, yet Ian still wants to have your head. Maybe it’s just the fact that you were their superior, only Ian knows the answer, however I will not allow it that he kills you, going the way of blind vengeance, is not right.”

However, the rabbit only listened to what Blaise had said with one ear, too much was going on in his own mind again, trying to think through everything he remembered, at his time as a general in the army, to, find something.

The sudden sound, a particular one that he could hear from the still open side window put him away from his thoughts, it sounded like, running?

What he saw when he turned his head to his right side, caused his pupils to shrink.

Ian Snapshot, seemingly unharmed had caught up on them, running and jumping from roof to roof of the buildings with easy, while carrying a large grey sports bag with him that was attached to his back.

And then he looked at the rabbit, and Sam wondered, if he was right with his thought that the black footed cat smiled at him under his mask, as he took out his gun, and pointed it in the rabbits face still running on the buildings roofs.

“WATCH OUT!”

But his words were misinterpreted by the driver, looking left and right at the street, of course, seeing no imminent danger, but before the old war journalist could ask what the problem was, Sam pulled them down, forcing their body to duck.

The sound of cracking glass followed immediate together with a sharp whistle of a flying bullet, yet, it was not what Sam focused on, but rather the sharp pain that went through his right ear, making him cry out in pain, and touching it, feeling the warm blood, dripping, then running on his fingers soaking them red.

“SAM!”

Hearing their alarming voice, the rabbit tried to look up to Blaise, whose face was full of shock and concern, the rabbit could feel his head throbbing, feeling his stomach twisting and turning, he wondered if he was about to empty soon, but fortunately nothing came. Instead , despite how much his right ear hurt, he could hear Blaise muttering.

“In my glove box there are some first aid equipment, I wish I could help you, but with Ian-”

Flinching they returned to their posture, focusing on were they were driving, but now the old war journalist looked even more tense than before, gripping with his hands against the stirring wheel.

It hurt so much, and every second he wished it would just stop, but of course, his nerves and system said otherwise, slowly he reached for the glove box, opening it again, starting to rummage through it and finding some packaged cotton and bandages, ripping them open he began applying the fabric on his injured ear, not caring how sloppy he did it, he just didn’t want to focus on the injury or the blood any more.

Despite how unwell he felt now from the injury, he dared to look outside of the window, the distance of the buildings to each other was growing larger, they were reaching the end of the town, and Ian, was nowhere to be seen, causing Sam to panic because, if he was not here, then where was he?

Turning his head further around, he saw the back-footed cat and what he was doing, just like mere minutes ago, he held his gun in front of someone, who raised their arms in fright, forcing them to step down from their vehicle, which was a dark blue motorcycle, soon he would catch up on them again.

Maybe he should just, turn himself in, to give Ian what he wanted, then at least Blaise would have been no longer in danger and he, he would just return tomorrow, his birthday was already ruined and all he wanted to do was to lay down in bed.

“I will not, I will not give this to Ian, I refuse to let him get away with this.”

Did he say anything out loud, could their friend and driver read his mind, or was it just coincidence? Whatever it was, the cat in the drivers seat was determined not to give up.

But neither was Ian Snapshot as Sam noticed, despite the pain, and still hearing a ringing in his ear, he could clearly distinguish between the sound of Blaise vehicle and that of a motorcycle.

However, they sounded fainter than he had expected, and when, for a moment the noise did not grow louder, the general once again took the revolver in his shaking hands that felt cold, before slowly peeking out of the damaged window.

As he had suspected, Ian was more distant from them, looking closer he noticed that the black-footed cat no longer had the gym-bag with him, and what he saw Snapshot holding instead, took his breath away and his heart to run like a horse, he knew now why the assassin no tried to get closer to them.

Driving with one hand, he grabbed firmly onto a rocket launcher with his other one with one part of the weapon placed on his shoulder.

“We need to get off the street now Blaise! He has a-”

But it was too late, the sound of a projectile being fired with immense power and speed, was one that had itself buried in his mind from over the many years he had been in the army, and he heard it now.

His companion meanwhile, got only stressed out by the sound more, trying to drive faster and looking at the street with Sam in his panic wondering if Blaise was aware what it was or if they even really heard it, they had to get of the street now before it was too late.

Hastily he grabbed at the stirring wheel to get off the street, startling Blaise who let go of a moment.

“What are you doing we-”

Instead of driving off the street, the vehicle only made a half turn, then standing still, the engine having been stalled.

Before another world could have been spoken or a sound be made, Sam saw, as if in slow motion, how the anti-tank missile hit the left centre of the vehicle.

The first thing he noticed was the sound, it was so loud, going through his ears, and causing him to wonder if he would go deaf now, then of course the violent shake that went through Sam and his surroundings, followed by smoke and feeling debris, and pain everywhere.

He no longer could see Blaise around him, his very own voice drowned out as he called out for his friend, and before he knew it, he felt gravity doing its work, with the vehicle falling to its side, then toppling over, again and again.

Sam could not say for how often exactly, because another violent shake happened, hitting his head on the roof of the car everything turned black.

<...>

One of the first things he noticed, was the smell of different scorched materials, causing him to snap open his eyes as quickly as that was possible, the other was the pain on his upper body, then the realization, that he no longer could feel his legs.

As he looked around, he noticed that he got trashed around badly, and that his body was full of cuts and fresh bruises, with blood oozing out of his head and colouring the rest of fur that on many places was dirty, everything felt dizzy and like a blur, yet, even then he noticed how there was no one in the passenger seat.

He was alone in the car, hanging upside down, while the window, or rather what remained of it was also affected from the crash, he estimated, as good as that was possible, getting a clear thought in that situation, he removed the seatbelt, falling down.

Right now the general couldn’t care less about the bits of pain he was feeling now because of that, or the fact that because of the accident he had been paralysed from the waist down. The fresh injury on his ear was nothing, compared to that.

Coughing and gasping for fresh air, he crawled out of the twisted window, he needed to find Blaise, to ensure they were safe.

For his mind was working quickly, and all horrible scenarios came into his mind, the thought, that the old war journalist had given his life, to safe him, it caused him to feel dread and guilt, internally he was hoping, they were still alive.

Being cursed with never ending immortality, that killed and resurrected you so often, came also with the side effect of being aware of every single thing that was wrong with your body, feeling in every inch of muscle, flesh and bone, how it hurt as Sam began dragging himself into the plains that were in front of him and were the vehicle had crashed wheezing from how everything pained him.

Surveying the area, he let out another gasp, this time not because of his external and internal injuries, but rather, from what he saw, in the dry grass, laid that someone else might have mistaken for some random lump or a neglectfully discarded trash bag, but Sam knew what, or rather who it was.

“Blaise-”

His voice sounded very dry and hoarse, and he doubted it, that if Blaise was conscious, they heard him, and so, despite all alarm bells going off telling him not to, the general started to pull himself closer to the old war journalist, taking clumps of grass into his hands to pull himself closer to them.

It took him a great effort and, what felt to the rabbit nearly an eternity, until he had finally, finally reached them close enough, to check their pulse, it was, lucky that while had suffocated.

Placing his head, on the old cats chest, there were heartbeats, and then, he could hear regular breathing.

Letting out a sigh of relieve, it was then, that the rabbit noticed footsteps and of course, it was not hard for him to notice who it was and yet, it caused his eyes to snap open to full attention, as good as that was possible in his current condition.

“Blaise will be fine, the blast threw them out of the car before it toppled over, but they are not who you should be worrying about right now.”

Dragging himself closer to the war journalist, he knew that they couldn’t do much against Ian, however, they were ready to protect his friend, with all the energy he had left. Trying to growl at the person who stood behind him, but of course, the black-footed cat remained unimpressed.

“I don’t care about Owens, they knew what it meant, to intermeddle in personal business, and what risks there would be.”

Feeling how they moved closer, he heard the assailant’s breathing, either way he was a good actor, or he really was not exhausted from the hunt.

“It was quiet the joyride, I have to admit that, but every journey comes to its end-”

Perhaps he would die now, but, even if he hated Ian’s guts for what he had done today, there was some relieve, knowing Blaise would not be harmed and roped any further into this, feeling how they got grabbed, he let out unintentional, a painful gasp.

“-or in your case, at least for today.”

Oh, so they knew about his curse after all. He genuinely was surprised and despite how the part of his body, he could still feel, was on fire right now, he had to ask a question.

“Th...en, why k...kill me?”

His soon-to-be assassin didn’t give him immediately an answer, rather, they walked with him a few feet away, despite everything, Sam had to admit he was impressed, how the black-footed cat that was even shorter than him, managed to carry him with ease, before he was thrown on the ground falling on his back causing his injuries to inflame even more and him to groan in pain.

Instead of ending it here right now, the cat instead started to remove their helmet, dropping it on the brown grass, more gracefully than he did with Sam.

For the first time, they saw their face, with its sand brown fur and copper eyes and an expression, that showed no emotions at the moment, only staring at and their mouth started to move.

“It’s the fact that I know that I have killed you, what happens after that and your whereabouts, I don’t care.”

Once again, he could feel how he was picked up, causing the rabbit to once again, to breath for air, his whole body, began to tire and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight back any-more, as their eyes met face to face.

“Tell me general, do you know, who I am?”

His voice sounded rather young, and yet, so full of vitriol and hate directed towards Sam. Charged with so much energy, that Sam wondered, when it would be released towards him, like a thunderbolt.

“O-only y...your name. But I had nothing to do...with your village...I swear. I didn’t knew!”

And that was the truth, of all the atrocities he had committed, he couldn’t remember having been involved into this one.

Felling how the cats claws buried into his claws into his shoulders, his red eyes looked into Snapshot’s face again, who showed his teeth and fangs before hissing.

“Exactly, you did NOTHING, and you didn’t KNEW! Because you never cared in the first place!”

The contract killer snarled at him, and now Sam knew that he was getting to feel everything what had been built up for so long in the short cat.

“You were the general! You should have known what your subordinates did, but you did not care, you neglected and ignored your duties for other things. I know you didn’t knew, and that you never gave the orders-

For a moment Ian stopped talking, as he reached for his pockets to take something out, which Sam recognised very quickly, for it was the same bundle of blood stained dog-tags, he saw earlier in the contract killers hand.

-those who did It, are already death...you could have stopped it, you had the power to do so...but you chose to look away to get closer to your own goals, Sam Cottontail.”

As he continued talking, the seriously injured rabbit recognised, how a part of the cat’s anger was replaced by, sadness, even with how much hate Ian had in his voice, a part of it turned into a melancholic tone, and despite how his hands slowly moved to Sam’s throat, and getting tighter around it, nothing of its sorrow was lost.

“Do you know what it means to loose your home, your family and friends-”

More and more did his grip turn into strangling, ready to squeeze the life of the general, who the assailant was ready to end any moment now.

“-to loose your IDENTITY?!”

Sam saw the sadness, and the pain in Ian’s face, no matter how hard the back-footed cat tried to hide that fact. While he too, had suffered in his life, the loss his attacker had to face, was not the same. Who from one moment to another had lost it all. And yet, the pain, there was something that reminded him about his younger self.

It hurt to speak, however, not only because the cat’s hand around his throat, or the whole pain going trough his body, but also, for what he was feeling emotionally right now.

“I’m-

The cat however, in both anger and mourning, did not care, and just wanted to have him gone, and the general understood that, he really did, but he had to say it, because he meant it, he should’ve noticed it, listened to what was planned and about to happen, but no, he ignored it, either way because he really didn’t look, or because he didn’t want to hear about it, and for that, he really was-

“-sorry.”

How suddenly Ian’s eyes snapped open, giving a startled expression, from one second to another, Sam found himself on the ground again, having been dropped by the cat, when he groaned from the pain, it appeared as if his attacker returned from his thoughts, shaking his head, before his copper eyes, stared down at him, no longer, looking as angry and full of revenge as before.

For a moment, there was silence, not even any wind was moving, his red eyes saw, how the cats lips were trembling before starting to move.

“You are the first...the only one who ever apologised.”

After that, nothing, he just continued to stare at Sam, before kneeing down, and although he was relieved that he could speak out, what he wanted to say, the presence of the contract killer who apparently, was no longer interested in killing him, bothered the rabbit.

“S-so what, y...ou are just...letting me lay here, half-death until I’m better again….well thanks for that.”

He wished he could roll his eyes as he said the last part as sarcastic as that was possible in his agony, but, not even for that he had any energy left and so he just, stared at the black-footed cat again, who knelt down next to him.

“No, I will finish my job-”

Ah, there it was, he should’ve known that it wasn’t over yet, and still he could not help himself but to gasp when he put his helmet once again, over his head.

“- not for revenge, but as mercy.”

Sam felt how, Ian’s hands once again reached for his neck, however this time more gently, the fingers, almost in a caressing finger descending, before coming to a stop, it made him realise what was going to happen, before the rabbit could say anything or give it another thought, it was over.

Having found his carotid, Ian, for a short moment, pressed against the artery as strong as possible, making the parts of the rabbits body that still could move, go limb, the cat could feel how the heart had stopped its beating.

“You have my respect general...but target is target, so don’t hold it against me when I take a memento from you, as I did with the others.”

Despite how quickly the cat began to search for something, the assassin did it still with respect and not like a looter, he had taken out the generals wallet, but, that was not what he was aiming for, and instead browsed some more, until there was a satisfied smile under the mask.

He could feel it as he touched the uniform, in the inside pocket he felt something resisting against his pressure, hard, metallic and of course the small beads that combined with each other made a chain, taking it outside, he looked at the object he wanted to claim and held in his gloved hands, glancing at it, for unlike its relatives, this one was clean, without any blood.

There was something, that caught his eye when he observed the dog-tag who he realised was not the generals.

“Very interesting...Jude Valentine...someone you cared about? It matters not, since I can’t find yours general, I guess, this one will, suffice.”

Ian was ready to add them to his collection, or he would’ve, if it weren’t for the fact that there was a loud bang, followed by immediate sharp pain going through his right shoulder and him screaming for a moment, causing him to let the identification tag fall, directly on the death rabbit’s chest.

He felt it, how the bullet had buried itself through his armour, flesh and finally bone before coming to a halt, and despite how much it hurt, with the blood starting to pour from his body, he could not help himself, but chuckle in his pain as he laid on the ground, knowing very well who had just shot him..

“Armor piercing ammunition? You just broke at least ten different conventions with that move Blaise.”

Despite how much it hurt, the black-footed cat couldn’t stop his grinning, holding his hand that held the other dog-tags, against his wound, before letting out an uncomfortable sounding groan.

They stood behind him, holding their revolver directly against his body.

“Leave, now, because the next bullet will go through your head.”

Trying to raise himself, Ian did not look into his old colleagues eyes, and focused on the death general instead.

“You really have made an interesting find, I guess our mutual suffering didn’t mean anything then? A war criminal, you really have some, strange preferences when it comes to choosing your friends, don’t you Blaise? And for that, you waste a bullet, on me?”

Despite not seeing it and the aches he felt, Ian sill could hear how behind him, they gritted their teeth.

“That’s hardly the point right now Ian. Do you know how many innocent bystanders you have injured or nearly killed with that stunt of yours. I drove into the town by accident, you were ready to cause collateral damage for your blinded revenge, how is that different for what happened to your village!?”

He could feel the anger rising in his body from Blaise’s scolding and yet, he wanted to remain polite, he had already shown enough emotions for today.

“Y-you don’t get to talk about my home, you didn’t loose, what I have….but I get the message...I felt it loud and clear.”

For the first time since he got shot, the old cat appeared in his view, looking at Sam, before letting out a resigned sigh.

“Are you happy now? Is your thirst finally quenched?”

Giving it not a single though, the answer to that was for a simple.

“Of course, I got what I wanted.”

Raising his head, he saw how Blaise looked at him, their expression full of doubt of what he had just said, but when the old manul cat remained silent.

Ian took the opportunity to talk, because, there was something, he wanted them to hear, something more personal that had to be said and he wanted them to listen clear to his perhaps, cryptic sounding message, he was sure, Blaise would decipher one day, eventually.

“Oh Blaise. How long do you want to run and not face the facts and reality?”

He glanced at the corpse of Sam, then returned his attention to Blaise before the old war journalist could say anything, giving them a sneering and bitter laugh.

“You think your friendship with that war criminal will go well? There will be a price for you to pay, a storm is coming, one you won’t be able to avoid my dear old friend. And this time, you won’t be able to hide in your little world and illusions you have created, it will crack you and it will HURT!”

Blaise just rolled their eyes when he was finished, with their revolver still in their hand, but not pointed on his head with as much determination as before.

“My patience is running thin, leave.”

Standing up carefully, his whole right side hurt making him wonder if he would fall, but didn’t, with his upper body bend towards the white rabbits lifeless body, he knew he would leave soon.

“I will, however, not before I get what I want, I will take a souvenir with me, then I and the general are even.”

For a moment, they said nothing, then looking on the ground and Ian wondered if they really had the guts to shoot him again, when the old cat started to mutter.

“Fine, but take something of less, sentimental value and then go!”

Giving him a nod, Ian glanced at Sam’s wallet instead.

“I guess, there will be something for me to take, we both can agree on, old friend.”

<...>

Feeling a splitting headache, he groaned, slowly opening his eyes and wondering if he was involved in a car accident, before Sam remembered what had happened, with an image of Blaise unmoving body flashing into his mind, ignoring the sore feeling he still had through his whole body.

In panic he looked around the environment, not caring how the sun was rising or that the grass was wet from the morning dew.

Standing up he was about to call for the old cat, whose wrecked vehicle still laid upside down in the plains, desperately looking for him, the general turned his head again, suddenly being face to face with the war journalist, letting out a startled shout, he could feel how his body lost its balance and he fell into the grass.

He expected for Blaise to offer him their hand, but instead they silently sat down beside him, into the plants that felt at least a bit soft and looking at the stars and moon, who were still visible in the sky, although, already starting to vanish a bit in the morning sky.

“Is, is he gone?”

Letting out a sigh they placed their hands into their lap before nodding.

“Yes, Ian is gone and won’t bother you again, at least not for his revenge plot, however given his profession, who knows, it’s possible you might encounter him again one day.”

With his mind already making up scenarios, he could feel a shudder crawling up his back and taking a breath of air.

“I’d rather not see him again.”

Turning his attention to Blaise again, instead of the grass in front of his, he could feel how his heart moved down, the old cat did not appear, to have been injured and yet, still looked hurt, yet before he could’ve asked them what the matter was, they already spoke.

“I-I’m sorry that I was unable to stop him Sam, I didn’t want this happening to you.”

Seeing the guilt in their eyes, the white rabbit gave them a reassuring pad on the old felines back before closing his eyes.

“You did more than I could’ve asked for Blaise, I mean, compared to Grizzly, you were ready to throw your life away, speaking off-”

Grabbing the old cat by their shoulders all of a sudden, his red eyes met their violet ones, looking sternly at them.

“-don’t you ever risk your life like that again for me Owens, you could have gotten killed...I don’t think, I could forgive myself, if you would loose your life, just to protect mine.”

Despite how angry he looked at the old war journalist and that he had just scolded him, Blaise’s neutral, perhaps a bit, surprised expression, soon turned into a soft smile.

“You are my friend Sam, and seeing you getting hurt, is just a thought I can’t really bear.”

And so did he, but he really didn’t want to argue with the old cat right now, yet could not help but question why Blaise would so, quickly throw their own life away for him, who returned anyway.

Scratching their neck, Sam saw that there was still something gnawing on the mind of Blaise, but unlike looking hurt, they appeared to be more, embarrassed.

“Besides, I ehm, had to make a sacrifice, on your behalf.”

Putting their head into their hands they looked into the once again into the sky but this time with a more, neutral expression.

“Ian insisted that he took something from you, as a trophy, a dog-tag.”

With his eyes suddenly snapping open in anxiety, he touched the inside pocket of his uniform, and, found it to be empty, suddenly, it felt for Sam as if he no longer could breath, when in the corner of his right eye.

He saw Blaise, holding the metal identity tag in his fingers, carefully touching the chain, which he quickly recognised as the one he was missing, who the old cat was reaching into his direction.

Snatching it quickly away, the moment he held it in his hands and made sure it really was the one he kept so close to him, there was a pang of guilt, that must’ve looked rude right now and so he gave the old cat an apologetic look before putting the dog-tag away, so it was safe and secure in his pocket again.

“However I was able to...negotiate...that Ian takes something else.”

In their other hand Blaise held the generals wallet, handing it over to him and the rabbit opening it, going through the content and looking through it, with a mild gasp, noticed how one object was missing.

“He took your sugar bakery loyalty card instead.”

Despite this being a, by far smaller and insignificant loss that what the other object would have been, he could not stop himself but to let out a fast but also loud yell of anger, frustration and in the end, resignation, before allowing himself to fall into the grass again.

He really wanted to have that cupcake, and now the free sweet would fall to a hitman.

Taking a breath, he allowed himself to open his eyes again, with Blaise observing him, then his focus went back to the wreckage that was once an off-road vehicle.

“Sorry for your car, will your...insurance cover it?”

It was now Sam, who felt guilty, because at this point, Blaise means to get from one place to another, was nothing more than scrap metal and he was sure, not even the best mechanic could repair it. Maybe he could offer the old cat one of the Wrath’s vehicles as compensation.

However, Blaise did not look angry and just chuckled before giving Sam another warm smile.

“No, however, knowing Ian, in a few days, money will mysteriously appear on my bank account, enough to buy myself a new one, or rather, used one, they don’t get manufactured any more after all.”

Continuing to sit in the grass, talking about the vehicle, the rabbit began to wonder how they would get back to the base now, and as if Blaise could read his mind, their lips began to move.

“I already made a call and it shouldn’t take long until we have a ride. As soon as I get a new way of transportation, we will drive to the bakery for you to get, two new cupcakes or more, I promise you Sam, we will celebrate your birthday there later.”

Feeling how he was now getting a pad on the back, Sam let out a sigh, but, could not help but smile as he looked into the sky as well.

“With everything that had happened today, that would be nice.”

#Bowlers old stories #Bowlers old fanfictions #Blaise Owens RKZ #Ian Snapshot RKZ #Owens Family RKZ #TW: Blood #TW: Death #TW: Smoking

[bowlerhatwearer]

First Day of Issues

TW: Blood, Injuries, Smoking

Characters: Samuel Cottontail, Blaise Owens

Originally written: 22nd May 2022

~~

Why were they doing this?

There was no reason to drive into this dessert with their off-road vehicle, at this point they could sit on the porch of their family home, drinking in the afternoon sun whilst smoking a cigar.

Speaking of.

Keeping one hand steady on the wheel they searched at first for their lighter, before giving themselves a mental facepalm, their car was not that new, it still had a cigarette lighter built inside, so he could use that one instead. Quickly pressing the button, they took out their cigar, pressing it firmly inside their mouth.

Blaise Owens really wondered, why they, with their sixty years of being around in this world, had decided to continue working as a war journalist.

With everything that had happened and everything they had witnessed, why did they keep going? The years or death and destruction they had reported about, and snapshots taken from the different warzones they had seen. The five years of forced labou-

Hitting a bump, the car rumbled for a moment before being calm again.

Where they not enough, was it all not enough? So why did they do it, there was, literally no reason to drive at this place, inhabiting an old ranger station like some hermit crab, and write articles for a group of self-declared freedom fighters, some paramilitary oppressive organization and a bunch of medics who had to lick the other twos wounds. They really couldn’t care less about any of them, Blaise had seen similar organizations all before, how they got founded, how they rose and how they fell.

Maybe they should just drive away. There was nothing that spoke against that. Just turning the car around and driving to the place their parents had willed on them, their former home.

Carefully they pressed with their foot on the break, the vehicle slowly came to a halt.

Just in that moment, the cigarette lighter made a sound like a coil spring, pulling on the locking break and turning the engine off, Blaise Owens lightened their cigar, feeling the nicotine in his mouth spreading they pressed their head back on the headrest.

They really, had to think this through.

Officially, Blaise was retired, having worked over four decades in the journalist business, with most of them as one involved in wars and other conflicts, they received a pension and were honoured for their work. It just did not make sense for them to keep going. They should just leave, and enjoy their evening of life on their terms, for a long time they had done what others had told them to do, so maybe they should just take it easy, and enjoy the either more or less years they still had.

A semi-violent coughing fit erupted in their chest, fortunately they held their cigar strong in their left hand and it did not fell on the vehicles floor.

Well, realistically they had less years to worry about.

Anyways, but why should they care about the Roadkillerz, Wrath and Medics, it shouldn’t be their job to record when they were blowing each other’s brain out.

They had been through enough, why keep going and write for a conflict, they probably won’t survive seeing getting resolved?

Fate should decide if they would drive more into the dessert, closer to the old ranger station, or take a turn around and leave.

They didn’t know why they suddenly had that thought, but they liked it.

If fate would give this old manul cat a sign, why they, by all means, should stay here, then they would.

But if nothing would be happening in a matter of minutes, no, make that seconds, then they would drive to their parents home and life there for their rest of the small and resigned life they still had left in their broken body. At least there, when it would extinguish, they would be all alone with no one else around to see them being pathetic trough and trough. Their stained white shirt being the proof of that.

If their parents could see them right now, if their younger brother could see them, what would they think of them? Had they thrown it all away? Maybe, so Blaise thought, they should have taken another direction in their life, but it was too late for that now. Closing their violet eyes, they let out a sigh.

Another pull was taken by the cigar, leaving the smoke for a while in their mouth, they would take the moment, and if nothing happened now as they would release the bluish-grey smoke, they would leave, never to return to this part of the world ever again.

Opening the cars window they slowly allowed the smoke to escape their mouth and it fled through the window into the outside.

Welp, that’s it, the decision was made, they would NOT write any articles anymore and leave, goodbye journalism and hello retire-

The sudden vibrations that had completely surrounded their vehicle, made them stop thinking, it wasn’t too strong, but enough for it to be noticeable and to make the cat uncomfortable. They held their hands firmly on the stirring wheel, after a few moments, it was over.

Was that an earthquake?

It appeared that it was over now, and, honestly, that was just a random occurrence, so they brushed it off that this was some sort of sign.

Their ears perched up, there was something in the air, coming into their direction.

“Aaaaaaa-“

It somehow sounded for Blaise Owens, with their one ear whose outer ear was not damaged, like a new years rocket, either that or from an old multiple rocket launcher.

“-aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-“

Now that the sound got clearer, it actually sounded more like a voice, as if someone was screaming, in fear, pain maybe, but perhaps also anger.

“-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The sudden, violent appearance of a crash, that, originated and went trough the ceiling of his car, made Blaise Owens startle and meow in reflex. They were certain that their pupils where smaller when they felt how something, just crash landed from above, into their backseat. Detaching the seatbelt, they turned around from their seat what just hit his car. Who knew, maybe he was already death from the rocket or meteorite that had hit them, and they were already a ghost.

“Holy Sun, moon and all the stars together!”

Having shouted this out loud, Blaise took a look at the backseats where something had crashed. At first, they could not recognise what was there in their car, it appeared to be, some Green and white mass, but when it slowly moved, and ears where revealed Blaise Owens knew what was before him.

A white rabbit who was wearing a green uniform, a governmental army uniform to be precise, they had seen many of those troughs their life, and given what they assumed where shoulder pads, it appeared as if they were from a higher rank.

However, for a moment Blaise got distracted, despite the shock still going through their bones and their fur being all bristled up, their violet eyes focused on something else, at one exact spot.

There appeared to be on the back of the rabbits head, a particular scar, it looked like it got stitched, so it was older, Blaise body and mind was screaming at them that now was not the time to concentrate on some strangers body scars, but instead to give first aid, to see if the person who only mere moments ago, just crash landed into the ceiling of their car was still alive!

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuh-“

Still watching from their seat, they could see how the body was moving, weakly, well, that was a good sign, hopefully.

Jumping out of the cars door, they opened the other quickly to get a better look at the person who mere seconds ago just landed in his vehicle and upon having a closer look, oh, it that wasn’t a pretty sight.

Blaise Owens was not a doctor, a nurse and not even a first responder, but it didn’t need the experience of any of those to say that the rabbits limbs, appeared to be broken, each one of them, given how they were spread, at least the cuts and bruises seemed less serious, although the right eye appeared to have gotten injured as well.

“Hey! Hey can you hear me?”

Shaking him a bit on the shoulder, the only response they got out from, the white rabbit was groaning in pain.

They had to put him in a stable position, even if they were in pain and had outer and probably internal injuries, they had to put him in a comfortable position and put on the safety belts so he wouldn’t fall off during the drive.

Yes, for they were convinced to bring this poor, seriously injured man to the closest hospital at all costs, he would not die, no, they, Blaise Owens could not allow that. They might have been a war journalist, but they were also someone who would do their duty to save a life, no matter what.

Of course, they knew that there where first aid measures they could take, but Blaise Owens made the decision, after seeing not much blood, at the moment at least, that it was for the best to bring the army rabbit as quickly as possible to the nearest hospital.

Closing the door and stepping into the drivers seat again they took out their mobile phone, not the most modern, but it had a touchscreen, even if the retired war journalist used them most of the time, only for calls, they knew how to use some of the software and applications that where on there, quickly using the map app they had installed, to search for the nearest hospital before placing it in front of them into a holder.

“There we go! Don’t you worry I’m going to get you help straight away!”

Maybe the pain had phased down or the rabbit had regained consciousness, but Blaise could see in the rear-view mirror how their head moves slowly, still groaning and how Blaise saw for the first time their eyes, how they got opened carefully and a bit drowsy.

How the bright red irides looked around in confusion.

“Wha- Where am I?”

That was all the white army rabbit could say before groaning and half-shouting in pain, he appeared to have noticed the seriousness of his injuries.

“You have landed in my car and are badly injured, but don’t worry-“

Waiting no longer Blaise restarted the engine, before shifting into reverse gear, then first gear and continued to increase the gear levels as they drove faster trough the dessert.

“-you’re going to be alright. Just, try to stay calm.”

Their passenger did exactly as they said, after all there was nothing else, he could do, except trying to raise his head into the direction the voice was coming from.

“Who- are you- Roadkillerz then I-?”

His voiced sounded weak, Blaise really hoped that he would pull through, biting on their lip they stepped even harder on the gas pedal.

“No, I am neither part of them, the Wrath, or the Medics. I am your current driver.”

He appeared to be satisfied with that answer, or just no longer had the energy to keep his head raised as he laid back on the seats. Did he have a concussion? Then they needed to really drive fast and ignore all the laws of the street to get him to the hospital. Blaise could hear how on the backseat; the rabbit was mumbling something.

“Where, are you, bringing me?”

Despite the pain he was obviously in, the rabbit still managed to finish the sentence, even if his breathing was heavy and he started to mumble again.

“To the hospital of course, I don’t know what had happened to you, but, you-“

Before being able to finish his sentence, Blaise saw how the rabbits eyes snapped open and he tried to raise his head again.

“The hosp- NO! Not the doctors! Not their needles and medicines! And especially not their uncomfortable questions!”

Oh dear, the poor man was clearly delirious, the brain probably tried to calm him down from all the pain he was in.

“Listen, you need help, seriously, I think you broke all your bones!”

Trying to move one of his hands, he noticed just how, twisted it looked groaning once again.

“Just, bring me to the Wrath base!”

That sounded strange, why would he want to be there, his uniform was that of the army, and as far as Blaise knew, the Wrath wore purple…or violet they weren’t sure right now.

“Believe me, the Wrath would be the last place where you need to be right now.”

Indicating that he was going to turn left, Blaise stirred the driving wheel, trying, despite how fast they drove, to make sure their fellow passenger was not thrown around too violently, but he seemed not to care, instead grunting in response for what Blaise had said to him.

“You listen to me! I am General -ARGH- Samuel Cottontail and I -oof- demand you to turn around and bring me to the Wrath!...ooooh my head…..”

Looking with their purple eyes into the rear-view mirror, they felt sympathy for the general, if he wanted so badly to be brought to the Wrath, was he perhaps a member of them, a defector perhaps?

“And I am Blaise Owens, retired war journalist and I say you need aid, so, rule overturned, you can thank me later.”

Maybe they shouldn’t have said that because this general appeared to be really disgruntled because of what they just had said, or perhaps it was the pain, maybe both.

“I will say thanks for…nothing! Look you appear to be new here…so I will make…this clear how-“

Having no more energy, sweating, and shaking slightly from the pain he laid his head down.

“-things work! You bring me to the wrath base…or leave me to die!”

The last word was still echoing in their head, Blaise had to admit they began to feel offended; they knew that Generals where supposed to be courageous and where expected to make sacrifices in times of war and conflict, but they were not going to allow that he would die. Maybe in his feverish dreams he thought Blaise had to save themself and he had to be left behind.

“I admire your valour but no and that’s my final answer. I will and cannot allow that to happen no matter what. Even if, whoever did this to you would come to get you, I will try my best to bring you to the hospital…..I saw too many people die, I am not going to allow the same happening to you.”

Gritting his teeth Blaise decided to concentrate on the street that began to appear, well that was a good sign at least, they were closer to civilization now.

The injured general meanwhile breathes heavy, moving his head left and right, in pain.

“You don’t understand, I am cursed I-“

Cursed? Was that some sort of metaphor? Maybe this Sam guy wasn’t the luckiest general on this world and got injured often. Oh, that sounded a bit sad, what cruel fate to be involved in injuries, perhaps even every day of his life. Not only sounded that unfair, but also tragic.

“Maybe it was a curse that got you injured, but see it now as a blessing, you fell through my car, and bring you to the nearest hospital ASAP!”

For a moment it appeared as if the general tried with all the power that had remained in his body, to sit up, but it was to no avail, groaning in defeat and discomfort he tried to look away from the old war journalist as Blaise noticed trough the rear-view mirror.

“You’re, a, fool!”

“Perhaps, but still one that’s trying to safe your life, no matter what.”

It was only now, that for the first time Blaise Owens noticed the air that was coming into the car because of the big hole in the ceiling, how their fur bristled from the wind or how their cigar was already nearly gone, throwing the end into the ashtray, they decided to wait, they didn’t want to make the drive even more unpleasant for the general as it already was.

Taking another glance, they could see that the General was sulking, probably because of their pain huddled into his own body on the seat, not taking another glance at the old cat. It looked like their conversation was over, maybe that was for the best, so that the white rabbit could take a rest. Fortunately, his ears still moved slightly, or Blaise would have been worried that he was death.

Looking on the street again, then the mobile phone, Blaise could already see the hospital appearing, the building wasn’t far away anymore.

One last turn to the left, shifting the gear to the first level again and slowing down, Blaise Owens Car came to a halt directly at the emergency entrance of the hospital, luckily at the moment the place was clear, only what appeared, a few hospital personnel on a smoke break who stared curious at them as they stepped out. Telling them that there was a person in their car who needed immediate aid they fortunately offered their help immediately.

A crocodile in a white coat, very likely a doctor, helped Blaise getting the general out of the car, who started to protest again as well as groaned in pain, as they put him on a stretcher that four others of the hospital employees had brough to the off-road vehicle.

“Let me go! Stop this! Aaargh-“

The crocodile rolled his eyes from the resistance, whispering to Blaise who put a new cigar into their mouth.

“You think he isn’t insured and that’s why he is making such a fuss?”

“Hmmm, he’s an army general…I think so at least, they should have him covered.”

Approaching the stretcher Blaise looked at the white rabbit with sympathetic eyes because of his situation.

“Don’t worry general, I promise to visit, I will bring flowers! Here, have my visiting card.”

Despite the kind offer of the flowers and them placing the paper on the stretcher, Blaise felt how the red, angry eyes of the general stared into theirs, no, even deeper, they stared into the cats very soul whilst growling in wrath.

“Mark my words-“

Blaise Owens wanted to protest, the crocodile doctor did but the seriously injured man didn’t want to listen as he raised with great effort his body to look at the retired war journalist with gritted teeth and his eyes, despite one being injured, glowing like red hot coals or perhaps iron. The medical personnel already carrying him on the stretcher inside of the hospital.

“-I will never forget you this Blaise Owens, NEVER!”

Well, they really hoped that the general meant this as a thanks, even if they knew better, with that, General Samuel Cottontail vanished inside of the hospital still growling loudly in frustration.

“You’re welcome!”

There was nothing more for them to do here, returning inside of their car they took another pull of the only recently lit cigar.

Certainly, this was not how they imagined their day would go, but this must have what they were waiting for today.

A sign, a reason why they should move into the old ranger station.

With the personification of it, being General Cottontail who fell literally, from the sky into their car.

Even though he wasn’t the most pleasant guest, but who would with such grave injuries, Blaise Owens had to admit he was an interesting person, there was something that they liked on him.

They would be staying for a while, in Duststorm Valley and the lands around it.

#Bowlers old stories #Bowlers old fanfictions #Blaise Owens RKZ #Owens Family RKZ #TW: Blood #TW: Injury #TW: Smoking

[bowlerhatwearer]

From the Estate of

Victor Owens

Characters: Victor Owens, Blaise Owens (mentioned), Lawrence Owens (mentioned)

Originally written: 16th February 2022

~~

Dearest and honourable mayor of Mayberry,

dearest reputable city council of Mayberry,

as you may have noticed by now the defamatory article of my older brother, Blaise Owens, I, dear gentlemen would hereby speak out my sympathy for the shock and anger you must have been feeling for this smear campaign that the person, who, though it pains me deeply, I must call my brother, has brought upon your eyes and wonderful town, a city, if you allow me to remark, that is a noble example for a flawless working society.

My following words I assume will not bring you solace given how deep the pain that Blaise has inflicted must sit, however I ask you to please allow me to explain, so that you know, dearest gentleman, that I was in no position nor had I the knowledge that my brother would do such a thing. I can assure you that if there would have been even the smallest of hints, I would have tried to put an end of this mad project of his.

You might have heard that my weak and sickly younger brother Lawrence, writer for the renowned paper “Town-News”, has recently passed away due to a short but fatal sickness. Even if his death was foreseeable, it inflicted great psychological discomfort upon my older brother Blaise, who is unable to move on from this familiar calamity. There is no reason to paraphrase as well as deny it, my remaining brother, Blaise, has become mentally unstable due to the death of my and his younger brother.

In his grief and confusion, he sought to find someone to blame, find someone responsible for the sickness that has taken the life of our brother. You can see how illogical this sounds, which is further proof of the ill mind of Blaise. Unfortunately, the victim of his madness happened to be your great and famous city that he used as a target, by writing this disgraceful commentary.

Dearest gentleman, I once again would like to clarify, that MY, Victor Ownes, loyalty lies in this city, and I will not in this instance and no other be on the side of my remaining, clinically insane brother when it comes to the spreading of wrong and harmful misinformation that can cause economical, as well as personal damage on a person’s reputation.

I do hope that this isolated incident from my older brother won’t repeat itself. You have my promise that I will take all possible measures to ensure that he will not repeat the same or similar offence again in the future as well and I do hope that it did not damage our relations regarding the mining contracts of the company that I am employed to represent.

With that being said, and my alliance and loyalty to the city of Mayberry made clear, I wish you, dear gentleman pleasant days. I do hope that we meet again and have sympathetic conversations at the monthly dinner party at the “Diamond restaurant”.

Yours loyally and truly

Victor Owens

#Blaise Owens RKZ #Victor Owens RKZ #Lawrence Owens RKZ #Owens Family RKZ #Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #This letter was written by Victor in the past #Shortly after Blaise wrote the guest commentary

[bowlerhatwearer]

Mayberry: The Town of surreal dreams and expectations

A guest commentary by Blaise Owens

Characters: Blaise Owens

Originally written: 14th February 2022

~~

Mayberry is a town with a sparkling front, a horn of plenty of prosperity and happiness. However, for those who dare to take a closer look behind the scenery, they will find that the spectacular city has a more sinister face, no one for now has cared to expose.

When entering Mayberry no one can look away from the billboards, murals as well as placards that greet one, either way stating that this town, this district is the number one place in the stats when it comes to marriages as well as weddings. Furthermore, the register offices, that can be called without any hint of irony, marriage offices make an interesting picture, lines of people, always in duos, on the right man and on the left woman. For one it has quite the romantic flair, but for a realist it does look more like a group of innocents, perhaps naïve animals waiting at the door of the slaughterhouse to never return.

This willingness, an unquestionable obedience can be seen not only in this instance, but in many others as well. To not marry at a certain age is seen as unacceptable, going against the principles of the town, one can even say without any hint of sarcasm that it would be more accepted to drive over a group of the elderly, than not to marry when maturing into the age that allows one to marry. Those who do accept or give in to this ritual are welcomed, those who reject are seen as strange, abnormal, sometimes even as a problem. A mentality that one can easily compared to fanatic cults that preach salvation trough mass suicide.

However, one end is certain due of the cities approach as well as their whole handling, it is vulnerable to economic problems. Mayberries whole sales pitch, which can also easily be called an industry, only focuses on one topic, wedding and wedding related products. Most bakeries live from the production of multi-level wedding cakes. Tailors from suits and dresses that are only worn once in a lifetime. There are even whole schools and seminars, dedicated for woman to learn how to be the perfect wife and housewife. Most goods and serviced revolve around this one topic. With one problem being collectively forgotten. What happens with all of this if one day for example the wedding quotas go down, or if inflation makes grand weddings invaluable. Are people expected to take loans or mortgages to pay for them?

The town of Mayberry allures with its dream of the perfect wedding and family, ignoring or fighting against who not wish for such a life. The nonofficial motto is “Who does not fit, is made to fit”. A majority of this town lives in an illusion believing this to be the right way, thinking it must be the correct direction to go, ignoring that this fever dream can as easily end, as it has begun.

#Bowlers old fanfictions #Bowlers old stories #Blaise Owens RKZ

[bowlerhatwearer]

What does Blaise think of Elwood dusk and his son who is a "real boy"?

Greetings Anon

I have to admit, I have, forgotten who "Elwood Dusk" was, and had to ask, but now I remember again, and I would like to thank @northerngrail for reminding me.

To be honest, in the very beginning Blaise was, fascinated by the Elephant, because, he believed that this, young man, would perhaps, with his ideas, revolutionize the world.

However, a few, months later, Blaise realized, that Elwood, was just, like so many others that came before him.

A showman, entrepreneur, billionaire....and fraud in the old cats eyes, with Blaise having found out themself, that so many of Elwood's ideas, where either way, not even his, or an absolute failure that helped no one, except the rich's elephants ego.

Blaise would admit he had hoped, this particular person, would be different, but they only have to blame themself Blaise would say, for even having had, believed and lived in that illusion for a moment.

Now, Blaise Owens is a critic of Elwood Dusk and the billionaires empire that he had amassed over the years, arguing against the elephants ideas and plans with, logic, reason, common sense and sources.

However, the old cat does not mind Elwood's son, after all, he can't be blamed for his fathers doing, Blaise just wonders why Elwood named his son after the quadratic formula.

Yours sincerely

Bowler

#RKZ #Roadkillerz #Elwood Dusk RKZ #(-b ± √( b^2 - 4ac ) )/(2a) RKZ #RKZ OC #Roadkillerz OC #Blaise Owens RKZ #Ask #Anonymous #Anon #I wasn't sure if I would be able to write Elwood's son's name #But I was able to do it ^^

[bowlerhatwearer]

What is the other scenario where "Snowballs" appears?

Greetings Anon

It is only a concept, but I thought at one point, after having been hit unconscious, "the Therapist" would return, however this time to cause havoc at the Medics base.

He would use his orb, to cause illusions using the worries and fears of people, against them.

One of the people affected by the orbs power would be Obdulio Bravo, who suddenly sees one of his greatest fears come true.

Walking in the hallways, he sees the mangled body of Ty Nicholas ex-wife.

(For clarity allow me to explain, Tyson's ex-wife and Obdulio were good friends in the past, and despite what happened the chinchilla still has contact with her and they are still friends, however Obdulio made it very clear he is not going to reveal anything to her about Ty or Viper, with her having responded that this is fine with her, for she has closed this chapter of her life.)

So you can imagine how shocked Obdulio was, when he suddenly sees the death body of a friend, when suddenly "General Snowballs" appears in front of his, with "Snowballs" of course also being an Illusion of the orb and "the Therapist".

In his sadness, but also, absolute anger for Sam, he pulls out a gun and runs after "Snowballs" who is taunting him.

That is, until at one point Obdulio encounters the real Sam, pointing his gun into the rabbits direction, the situation is really tense and it needs a lot of convincing, not only from Sam or Blaise who are present (and were affected by the illusions as well) but from others as well, that what Obdulio saw, did not happened, but were the doing of "the Therapist".

Obdulio is absolutely hurt, because he was more than ready to shoot Sam, and he would apologize, it just, it felt so real, and he thought it really happened, he drops to his knees and allows the gun to fall on the ground, being overwhelmed by the stress he starts to cry.

I don't know the details but at the end "the Therapist" will be dealt with and the illusions stop.

Yours sincerely

Bowler

#Bowler #calm #Madame Balm #Sam #Roadkillerz #RKZ #Ty Nicholas #Tyson Nicholas RKZ #Viper Nicholas #Viper Nicholas RKZ #General Snowballs #Roadkillerz OC #RKZ OC #Obdulio Bravo RKZ #Obdulio Bravo #The Therapist RKZ #The Therapist #Blaise Owens RKZ #Blaise Owens #Ask #Anonymous #Anon #This is based on the fact that on the ask Blog the TGs ex-wife was killed by Snowballs #And that knew her #And would have at one point; at least pointed a gun at Snowballs #I was not sure if he would have fired said gun; but at least he would have threatened Snowballs with it

[bowlerhatwearer]

What does Blaise think of Bubba cottontail? Sam believes it was him responsible for a car crash because he thinks he wasn't capable of raising children. he also has a habit of smoking weed.

Greetings Anon ^^

Like many things in life, Blaise would say, there is no simple answer to that question.

The old war journalist can't say whether the car accident was Bubba Cottontails fault or not, the driver of the semi-truck that rammed them from behind died and Blaise was not present, the little information they can gather, don't give much details, probably only speculation.

However, Blaise would say, smoking marijuana to escape reality and perhaps the pain of the past, is a bad copying mechanism, Blaise would say that already smoking tobacco is an bad copying mechanism (talking about themself) so you can imagine that weed is just worse. The old manul cat doesn't understand how one can just smoke joint after joint, trying to escape the true world, whilst he had children that needed him, instead of being a father, being their for them, he just smoked his joy weed thinking that all his problems and responsibilities would turn into smoke like the pot he took.

But, Blaise also sees that Bubba tries so hard to do better now, who voluntary went to rehab to get the help he needed and escape his cycle of self-pity, stopped smoking weed altogether and started to turn his life around. They would comment, positively how much Bubba has changed personality and appearance wise.

So to summarize, Blaise Owens sees in Bubba Cottontail someone who messed up badly in their life but tries to improve and do better now, you know, just like a certain other Cottontail.

Yours sincerely

Bowler

#Roadkillerz #RKZ #Roadkillerz OC #RKZ OC #Bubba Cottontail #Bubba Cottontail RKZ #Blaise Owens #Blaise Owens RKZ #Owens Family #Ask #Anonymous #Anon