Dead Bunny's blog

TRANSMISSION 21
(POV: Party Poison)

“We hold in our hearts the sword and the faith… swelled up from the rain, clouds move like a wraith…”

I exhale heavily, then try to breathe in more of the words that have laid buried for so long.
“Well after all, we’ll lie another day…. And through it all, we’ll find some other way… To carry on through cartilage and fluid...” The action of the pencil stops for a moment, and I frown. Dig deeper. “And did you come to stare or wash away the blood?”

I can almost hear how the acoustic guitar is going to sing with me, dripping with regret and sentiment. It leads me to a chorus. “Well tonight, well tonight, will it ever come? Spend the rest of your days…” Now what? “Rocking out just for the dead… Well tonight, will it ever come?”

The bass is deep and wet, the guitar is some mean sloppy punk that manages to subtly implement the occasional shot of J-rock, the drums pound without overpowering, and the whole thing is laced with the filthy, filthy industrial synth sounds touched upon by the Flaming Lips. The vocals are a collision of Gerard Way’s sass and story telling and clarity, James Marsters’ smoky sensitivities, Cameron Bird’s deranged and whimsical tone, and Jared Leto’s raw power. Often, the deliciously disjointed and motley harmonies pioneered by bands such as Arcade Fire are employed. The lyrics are gory and odd and undeniably personal, and they tell you the story of your life through sweetly horrific allegory… and when they’re not doing all that, they’re a shot of mosh-pit adrenaline that you can’t help but fist-pump, headbang, and scream along to.

Mom and Dad got me my FIRST EVER MCR POSTER on Saturday… I spent Sunday helping my little sister clean our room (we share a room, and she has inherited my slobbishness)… Then last night my older sister and I found out that we can Netflix FRUITS BASKET on our Xbox 360, so we watched the first episode last night. We both LOVE LOVE LOVE Furuba, and lemme tell ya it’s so much better when you’re not trying to watch it on a laptop… It’s even the English version. Shigure is absolutely perfect, as are Tohru and Kyo. I can’t wait for Haru and Momiji and Ayame… That will be the most amazing. It’s just nice that my older sister and I have something in common that we both can fangirl on (oh, and speaking of fangirling, that picture is of Haru Sohma… best character, don’t’cha know. I think I’m gonna try to draw him soon… Ah, one day when I have a boyfriend we will cosplay as Haru and Rin!!! I’m such a nerd!!!) So anyway, my dog woke me up at five a.m. this morning barfing on our floor.

Let’s be satisfied with the details of their lives that the Guys give to us willingly. Let’s not ask for more and risk making them feel like their personal lives have been put on display for everyone to gossip about, like the kids who always say how they love them so much don’t care enough to give them a little privacy. It’s gotta be painful sometimes, dealing with media vultures who wanna spread shit about you…. And I don’t want the Guys to feel like their lives have become a roadside attraction. I mean, they give us so much through their art, how could we ever ask for more? Let’s be grateful for what they do for us by sitting down for interviews that inspire us, meeting us before and after their shows and changing our lives, playing their hearts out on the stage, putting everything they have into the records that make us fall in love with them, and always thanking us for being their army. They deserve a little respect in return for all they do, right?

TRANSMISSION 18
(POV: Fun Ghoul)

I don’t know if I can describe too well the feeling I had when we first got back. Something good, maybe even a little bit perfect. Everybody’s reactions almost broke my black little heart with happiness. Jet Star cried a bit. The Kobra Kid, once he started believing that it really was us, wouldn’t let Party Poison go. Missile Kid was happier than if you’d given her a freaking pony, I swear. ‘Aint never been a reunion as sweet as ours.

Nope, that didn’t cover it at all…

You gotta understand; they all thought Party and I had been dusted. For about three months, they’d been trying to learn to live without us. I can’t imagine what Missile must’ve been feeling (we went down trying to rescue her— no, not trying, succeeding). What Kobra must’ve been feeling… But in what I’m sure must’ve sounded like an idealistically happy ending to all of them, we weren’t dusted. We came home. How would YOU react?

TRANSMISSION 16
(POV: Party Poison)

I swear I could just die of anticipation.

Being separated from Mikey for so long has been hard. Weird. Like something is missing. I always get the impulse to say something to him, but he’s not there. And now I can see the word “DIE” silhouetted against the bloodied evening sky. It used to say “DINER”, but the “N” and “R” fell down in an acid wind storm or something, so now it says “DIE”. Hence, “The Die-ner”. My heart jumps into my throat.
“Step on the fucking gas, Fun!!” Even this little, swiftly shrinking stretch of land between me and my baby brother is cause for… bitchiness. I was gonna say ‘agitation’, but ‘bitchiness’ is a better word for it. Happy, good-natured, impatient bitchiness. Aaaaaagh.

Fawkin hell maaaaan. Some of my bloggies were restored, but not all of them *sobs*. And I have all the chapters of my fanfic saved so I can just re-post them, but I hate that I’ve lost not only all those lovely comments people dropped, but also the random, non-fanfic posts I posted in the past…. Dammit, I was up to so many pages of blogs!! They said they’d fiiixxxxx iittttt. My bloggies should be back by nowwwwwww. You see this bunny? This ‘aint no happy bunny. This is a seriously sad, whiny bunny. This bunny feels the need to warn you that she’ll be re-posting parts eight and nine of her AWESOMELY AWESOME fanfiction, “The Last Ride of the Fabulous Killjoys”. Perhaps you’d like to read it? Anyway, love goin’ out to all my other Zonerunners who have lost their recent blog posts… I feel ya. In a non-creepy way.

OVER AND OUT

So I did this drawing of Gerard… and the scanner effed with it a bit (meh, I have a vendetta with that p.o.s.), but do you like it? I mean, does it look like him? I think I like it (more so in real life), but do you like it?

OVER AND OUT

TRANSMISSION 18
(POV: Fun Ghoul)

I don’t know if I can describe too well the feeling I had when we first got back. Something good, maybe even a little bit perfect. Everybody’s reactions almost broke my black little heart with happiness. Jet Star cried a bit. The Kobra Kid, once he started believing that it really was us, wouldn’t let Party Poison go. Missile Kid was happier than if you’d given her a freaking pony, I swear. ‘Aint never been a reunion as sweet as ours.

Nope, that didn’t cover it at all…

You gotta understand; they all thought Party and I had been dusted. For about three months, they’d been trying to learn to live without us. I can’t imagine what Missile must’ve been feeling (we went down trying to rescue her— no, not trying, succeeding). What Kobra must’ve been feeling… But in what I’m sure must’ve sounded like an idealistically happy ending to all of them, we weren’t dusted. We came home. How would YOU react?

And where is it going? You guys seen it? I think it’s a tiny Draculoid… watching us… And the page has been loading slightly slower, giving time for this black screen… that is when the little /* */ appears. I MINIMIZED AND MAXIMIZED AGAIN AND IT DISSAPEARED! JUST NOW!! I highlighted it and nothing happened… this is quite odd. Teensy Draculoid… It’s more mysterious than when the “report to Mollom” option first arrived on the Zones. I mean, a certain wise den mama somebody (you KNOW who you are ;D) spoiled that by explaining it in a logical way. It’s just like a third-party site type deal that does… stuff… which is disappointing because the word Mollom sounded like, ya know, somebody who goes halvsies on tacos with Kang the Conqueror and is evil and planning on taking over the interwebs. But yeah, I’d like to know why /* */ is watching us, what it wants with us, and what its evil plans are. Or maybe I’d rather not know and come up with stupid and far-fetched explanations for it.