If You Had Prepared 20 Years Ago...
Hello, darlings. My name is Jessica Rabbit-- Wife of Roger Rabbit, thank you.
I love my darling Roger-- He makes me laugh, and I'd do anything for my husband! And I do mean anything, darling- But let's not test those waters, mm?
If you're ever around Toontown, do drop me a line.The Rabbit home is always open to visitors!
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Ink & Faint || Jessica & Roger || Week 3


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Warning for body horror, extreme emotional duress, reminder of wartime death.
I suspect the ‘death/reanimation’ takes some hours- So I apologize if this seems abrupt. It was intended to stretch over about two-three hours time, from late night to mid-morning.

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Ink & Faint || Jessica & Roger || Week 3



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Light body horror warning.

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Some Decoration // Clopin & Jess


Raising an eyebrow and huffing with amusement, Clopin lead Jessica through the tunnels which were now expanding into the larger catacombs. “A magic plant that brings people back from the dead is silly nonsense. Did you really think anyone would believe you, eh?” Chuckling nervously, Clopin was confused. Her story seemed so … real. The usual stories are along the lines of ‘I’m lost and need to find a secret way home.’ Or something like that. Why would she come up with such a story? Did she think they were stupid? Yet as they walked along in an awkward silence, their shadows painted on the walls, Clopin couldn’t keep his mind off her tale. What if it was true and she was just a girl looking for help. He could see something in those guarded eyes of hers and maybe it was loss. Clopin shook his head to clear it, bells echoing in the silence. He didn’t like what this girl was doing to him. It was like every moment longer he spent with her he began to not know himself. She’s one of the only people who has ever seen such a side of him and he didn’t like it one bit. Although, Clopin didn’t like silence even more, so he decided to get to know more about her story. “And who told you to give such a tale, hmm? I doubt Frollo has that much of an imagination. Where did you hear it?”


Jessica stiffened slightly but did not allow herself the curtsey of looking back to Clopin, nor would she allow him to register the subtle twitch and pull of muscles in her face that indicated that flash of self-doubt that flooded her.

       …Is silly nonsense.

On some level, she knew that- She recognized that bringing anything back from where it had gone wasn’t something that happened, never mind something that happened to her or any other Toon.

 You fade, you’re dipped, you’re forgotten? You’re gone forever, no matter how often someone tries to draw you again, or how strongly you hold on to the memories.

       Even memories locked in an unused room-

Jessica swallowed hard and pushed the thought away firmly, face hardening. There were more important things to consider now. She spoke without quite hearing, not realizing the abrupt coldness creeping into the edge of her voice;

      “No, I suppose not.”

She lifted her chin and continued, pausing before she did so— Where had she heard? Until he’d asked, she had forgotten. It came back clear as day in a sudden rush, and the realization was like walking through cold rain;

   “I don’t know who Frollo is, and I’d rather you stopped assuming I did, but I read it in a book. It was an old book, I don’t remember the title, bound in leather— I found it at some estate sale. A woman named Madame M… Just, selling off all sorts of strange things. She gave it to me with a set of bedclothes, told me to take care of it.”

The words sounded ridiculous even as she said them, but she kept talking with her brow wrinkling,
"But now I think it’s being used to prop up one of my plants in the kitchen. I hope Roger hasn’t over-watered it."

She probably shouldn’t have done that with the book, probably should have bought it to someone right away to examine, to study- Maybe it was some cultural artifact or a magical tome?

It was probably just a book of stories meant to entertain children, yet—

       Why had it slipped so calmly from her mind and left only behind the image of the flower, ghost-blue and faintly lit, growing between bones and the Earth?
There were certainly strange things in Toon Town, but Toons don’t like to play with memory, not when memory is what keeps them strong. What was the story behind the story, and what was the tale behind the tome?
Quietly, a warm sliver of hope whispered through her, that maybe, just maybe it could—
It was interrupted by the reminder of their footsteps chasing shadows, the knife wandering close to her back, and the reminder that she, above all else, and her foolish hope had landed her square into this folly.

               No. Just some silly nonsense, Jessica.

Ink & Faint || Jessica & Roger || Week 3



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Ink & Faint || Jessica & Roger || Week 3


Jessica’s voice only just caught his attention, though it didn’t stop his frantic attempt to undo the bandage. It was constricting, and hot, and everything in him just screamed at him to get it off. He fumbled with the paint-stained material, unravelling it and letting it drop to the floor at his feet until his arm was free.

That was better. The cooler air hit his arm and relieved the sensation somewhat — but still, a strange and unnerving pain gnawed away at the limb. Deeper.

His back was to her now as he stood, hunched over the floor before the small couch, and clutching his arm close against himself. It hurt, and the only thing taking his mind off of it was the increasing pressure in his head.

Then he remembered Jessica’s voice, and he attempted to answer her through clenched teeth.

"Jessica?" He whined, slowly turning to face her as he began to scratch at his arm once more. "… I think there’s something wrong with me."

Jessica was off the couch so quickly she felt dizzy, grasping the back for support as she moved forward. Her left leg was asleep but like hell she’d let that stop her-
"Roger, don’t-" She swallowed tightly and whispered,
"You know that’ll only make it worse-"
She reached out tentatively to move his hand away, but drew back with a sharp breath. 

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Ink & Faint || Jessica & Roger || Week 3


Once again her presence provided comfort. Her soft touches and gentle words had his previous panic dissipating into a tranquil sense of serenity. Here, he felt safe. 

Even if they had gotten the scare of a lifetime, even if their home had been overrun, and the fate of the outside world was uncertain — it was all okay, as long as he had Jessica with him.

Roger smiled into the kiss, and closed his eyes as Jessica’s hand ran soft lines down his ears. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, and drew himself closer into the hug, letting out a contented sigh as he allowed himself to relax completely against her.

Jessica’s heartbeat only provided more comfort as he smiled and let his eyes close. Rest sounded good right then, and it wasn’t until he slowed down completely, that he realized just how tired he had become…

"Love you too, pumpkin. Forever and ever."

~ ~ ~

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Jessica slept peacefully- If she were to be honest she’d slept on this couch in worse positions under similar duress. Maybe not zombies-attacking-our-city-and-biting-my-husband duress, but… Similar.

It was when Roger’s direct warmth grew absent that she stirred faintly and curled in on herself. A flickering reminder in the back of her mind, the casual but dreadful paranoia he’s gone whispering like flames, igniting her consciousness caused her eyes to snap open. She sat up, perhaps abruptly and fumbled in the dark, speaking through a voice dry and quick with panic;


She blinked and had to push away her curtain of hair, registering his shifting weight on her lap and relief fluttered back into her heart. Her eyes half-lidded and a dazed, sleepy smile on her lips, she chuckled,

"Roger, darling- Come back to sleep. We can do that in the morning…"

She yawned broadly, and stifled it with a gloved hand before blinking again in the over-long pause. There was only the noise of scratching, and his movements seemed frantic, unusual even for his strange nocturnal activities—


Some Decoration // Clopin & Jess


Clopin narrowed his eyes at her jest, feeling in no mood to be mischievous or act maliciously. With comment like this, of course she was a spy! Or was she? How couldn’t she be a spy?

Hissing in frustration, Clopin held her gently by the arm as he guided her through the catacombs. Still stuck in old memories, Clopin was drained emotionally. He knew because she was a spy she should be the one feeling bad. Yet if that was so then why did he feel so bad about hurting her?

Hearing Jessica’s tone, Clopin didn’t trust her so he took out a torch and lit it. “This way.” he said as he nudged Jessica towards the first tunnel.

Feeling the need to talk or he would be sealed by his depressive thoughts, Clopin attempted to make his voice sound less melancholy. “So what was going to be your cover story for needing bones anyway hmm?”

Jessica exhaled noisily through her teeth, blowing a lock of hair from her face as she moved forward, listening for any distant noise or sign of life. There seemed to be nothing yet, so what did she risk in saying so? He clearly wouldn’t believe her, whatever she argued;

"They’re for a friend of mine. He’s a — A Doctor. Of sorts, anyway.”

Her shoulders rolled with a shrug and she looked up as they went, counting footsteps in her head;

"I suspect he’ll use them in some conjuring, some brew— Or just for gardening. I could have bought him ash enough for that, but…"
There was a lingering pause, and her voice felt distant;
"I’d read once, there was a flower you could grow between bones. It reaches between the living and the dead, and you can call on chance, or fate, or what ever it is that lets it grow by brewing it in a tea-"
She cleared her throat,

"To bring something back that was lost."

She let the silence fill the spaces between their footsteps for a long moment, before her voice lowered gently, just enough to float back and cloak itself in the shadows of white noise from the tunnels;

                                                “I was hoping it wasn’t just a story.”


Some Decoration // Clopin & Jess



(Some Clopin AU: Childhood BG)

Clopin did a little hip hop and lead her farther and deeper into the cathedral. Taking his knife away from her throat, he took he arm in his, still holding tightly and now angled the knife at her back.

Jessica continued her talking in…

Clopin was used to these catacombs in the dark. He’d spent most of his life here so he moved along freely, Jessica on the other hand was beginning to seem a little less straight walking in the dark. Huffing, Clopin turned to Jessica to a ask if she wanted light but hesitated. If he lit up the dark she could see where she was going and escape. ‘Would that really be so bad?’ he thought to himself. Yes. It would be that bad. He was tired of letting Frollo’s spies run free as he gave no mercy to Clopin’s people. And anyway, if she ran Clopin could simply drown out the flames and catch her in the dark. He knew this place and she didn’t. Speaking in a low, rather monotone voice, Clopin asked her, “Would you, uh, like some light?”

"The dark is fine,"

Jessica’s voice echoed off the side walls and she wondered how close they were to her, to him, how many stairs were yet to travel— It was not a distant echo, it seemed, so perhaps not too far.

Her eyes were growing adjust enough to test the stairs before her when they came, but the passages— Well, if there was a wall, she could move to keep from hitting it, but her certainty and sense of direction was off. Her lips thinned in annoyance however as they came to a three-way fort, the tunnels only light vague phosphorescence on the wall— From what, she knew not, knowingly only better than the question it.

She turned back to Clopin with a heavy sigh, and nodded ahead,

"Well? You’re my guide. Or would you rather I pick a way myself and lose us in the dark?"

Her grin was carnivorous and cruel, painted over half a sneer, “You’d not be the first man to make that request.”
She left off that the others wound up with a sharp heel ground into their foot and an elbow in the gut; Why reveal her secrets? 


Ink & Faint || Jessica & Roger || Week 3


The wound was bandaged up, but the sound of Jessica’s apology made his heart sink. His ears fell and his eyes locked onto hers, hand squeezing hers tighter to reaffirm to her that he was still there. They were both still in this together.

He shook his head along with her, and pulled her hand closer to him as she rested her forehead against his.

"It’s not your fault, Jessy. Neither of us knew what was going on. You just wanted to make sure everyone was alright." He hoped he was reassuring her, but just for good measure, he gently wrapped his ears around her neck and patted the back of her head softly.

He moved forward so his nose was pressed against hers.

"Nothing too bad happened." Sure, the whole ordeal had been scary. Very scary. But nothing they hadn’t gotten away from. “This is so tiny.” He laughed, raising his bandaged arm slightly to get a better look at it.

The fact that it had actually caused his ink to run was a cause for concern, and the question as to what had happened to those toons in front of their house — but he pushed those thoughts down. They were safe now, and that was all that mattered. And under the fading adrenaline and panic, he could feel fatigue… though he attributed it to the stress.

He leaned his forehead against hers again, letting his eyes close.

"And you fixed it." From what he had seen, the running paint had been slowed considerably. "You fixed it."

Jessica’s heart sank slightly but she held his smile, nodding gently. Wrapping her fingers around his she could feel his heartbeat, muffled beneath ink and fur. Her nose brushed his as he spoke and she watched the ways his eyes moved as he murmured—

And briefly she felt totally, completely safe. The way his ears locked around her head and bought her closer, the warmth of their shared breath and the silence between words stretched into a space she could shut her eyes and breathe.

         Nothing too bad happened.

Even if it almost had, the words were calming. She took a deep breath and gave only the fainted of nods, her eyes opening with a light smile and a quirk of her lips to his laugh, the sound flooding her with relief. If nothing else, they had that—- That was enough. They’d gone through worse with laughter alone, and had seen it through. She squeezed his hand and chuckled,

"You’re right, my only."

She moved her hand away, only to wrap her arms around him and draw up into the couch, pulling him against her and resting her head on the top of his, placing kisses all around his crown, between his ears and down to his nose, pausing just before his lips to smile at him,

We fixed it. Rest up, buttercup.”

She kissed his nose and then his lips with a soft laugh, running her hand over his ears and smoothing them down, cupping his back and cuddling him closer,

"We’ll figure out everything else after we rest."

She stifled a yawn, and murmured,

"I love you," before she reached over and turned out the lamp beside them, dimming the room and leaving them in a wash of warm, hazy shadows, safe from a strange and dangerous world…

                        For now.

The writing process.