If You Had Prepared 20 Years Ago...
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! I promise I don't bite... unless you ask nicely.
part of/ mod of disneyroleplay || headcanons || current threads
"Of course…" Roger shrugged, pretty sure the unsavory toon arms dealer probably already knew about this place. Though he might drop some hints to the foxy fellow, as he deserved a little bit of payback for the late night partying- Jessica would probably have to wallop him at least once. While the newly hired piano player wasn’t the vicious sort, well, some people just needed a refresher course on manners….
"Oh, alright…" he stopped at looked over at her a moment, then over at the open door that comically squeaked shut as the redhead made her point. "That’s- just dreadful-" he murmured, properly aghast. Paranoia scanning the fine print for anything that seemed unsavory. Mrs Rabbit must have upped the standards for the place, as he didn’t find anything too terribly offensive. Some of the injury policies were a bit worrying- he wasn’t as keen as the more comedy oriented toons on getting flattened or blown up- but all in all he could deal with it. Though he’d certainly not last here long should the singer get the itch to leave. None of the surly looking employees seemed to be the caring sort, but- he’d deal with that should the situation arise. Fortunately, he was clearheaded enough today that he was comfortable reviewing and signing the contract without fear of impaired judgement.
"Ah- hmmm. I suppose I’ll have to get used to that- ah, breaking heads…" he chuckled nervously. It was one thing to have a row with one’s roommate, but the burly gorilla at the door made him hope he didn’t NEED to start or end any fistfights in the club….
Jessica smoothed her dress and blinked brightly, nodding. She purred,
"Isn’t it? But the builder’s a rat—" And at that point, a large rat in overalls and a yellow button down with a sailor’s cap waddled past, carrying a ladder that threatened to bog him down— Had his twin not held the other end up as they waltzed through. Jessica rolled her eyes and muttered, "That was him"
Jessica glanced to Roger with fondness, and smiled warmly, “Oh! Well, don’t worry too much about it, dear— We do have policies about humans. Never do more to them than they’d do to us, which recently hasn’t been much. Just a couple thrown drinks here and there, some invisible ink, handbuzzers..” She trailed off and pulled at one of her gloves, musing,
"Just the usual practical jokes. We do like to keep people on when we can. Why, Miss Boop has been here for ages! Haven’t you, dear?”
She called somewhere back to the wings, where a high voice replied, “Sure have!” And sang a bit of a tune before chuckling and flouncing off. Jessica winked at Roger,
"You know, she is available— But don’t let her rile you up too much! She’s old school, you see. She can handle anything any fella’ throws at her and won’t bat an eyelash, bless her.”
Drizella was somewhat taken aback, after watching Jessica perform a simple photo shoot, it seemed as though she could do everything wonderfully. Including cleaning a home. It took immense courage for Drizella to clean a bit of the home, and she let the maids do the…
Drizella clapped excitedly, and gave Jessica a small hug. This would be the first time she’d ever gone out of town, in a while at least.
"Oh wonderful! I was hoping you would say that. It just so happens, I’m a big fan of carrot cake. Especially if the icing is extra creamy, that makes it even more delectable. Would there be a certain time I should come? I can bring cinnamon rolls along as well, and who’s roger? Gosh, I’m bombarding you with questions here!" Drizella laughed nervously, and meekly grinned.
Jessica laughed warmly and returned the embrace with her eyes shining. It’d been quite a while since she’d made such a lovely friend- And of such high society! There were film stars and critics and authors, certainly, but—- Drizella was in a league of her own, and in more than one way. Her exuberance was contagious, and Jess tucked her hair back warmly as she nodded, then laughed,
"That’s quite alright! I’ll be sure to make a note about the icing, darling— And any time! Roger, my husband, will be pleased to meet you."
She winked, “He’s a wonderful host. I’d argue better than I am, in some ways— Though that’s perhaps just if you really enjoy jokes..” She blinked, then shrugged brightly.
Maleficent glided gracefully back into the ballroom, she had two Goons in her hand, unconscious and made just for the occasion. She grew tired of her guests enjoying themselves without her and decided she’d remind them why they were here as some of them had clearly forgotten.
Maleficent was already seething at the lack of greeting she’d received, barely any of those who danced merrily before her had so much as curtsied in her direction, let alone stroked her ego with compliments as one should at someone’s party. Especially someone as awe-inspiringly dangerous and beautiful as Maleficent. There were very few people in here she wouldn’t enjoy killing if they pushed her too far.
For now, she’d settle with the two Goons.
Maleficent walked up the wide steps to her throne in the great hall. She stood before it and brought the two Goons to collision, they made a noise like the crash of a symbol. That should get everyone’s attention.
"Ladies, Gentlemen and whatever else you are….” Maleficent called, her voice as saccharine and alluring as ever, even magically amplified. “…It has come to my attention that I haven’t properly begun the festivities…well, let’s formally start this party off with a bang!”
And with that, Maleficent threw the two Goons into the air with a flick of her wrist, they spiralled, suspended high in the air. She clicked her fingers and they exploded on command, expelling a deep green and plum purple confetti. Not to say that the Goons were fake though, everyone in the hall would do well not to think that. She’d merely turned their insides into confetti after she’d popped them. Maleficent laughed gently and descended into the crowd whose faces showed mixed emotions.
She stood in front of them, awaiting an orderly line of well-wishers.
Jessica turned with a start, hands flying to her face in surprise. She side-stepped the confetti with a grim turning of the stomach— All too reminiscent of the dip. Forcing a worried smile she cleared her throat and moved her gift basket back into her arms. She cleared her throat, and called a little weakly,
Before moving forward, gift in hand. Perhaps if she got this over with she’d be overlooked, or more welcomed into the host, and gift recipient’s, good graces. She lifted the basket to chest level, and put on her brightest smile,
"What a wonderful celebration! Or is it dreadful? All really up to you darling— I do hope this is acceptable."
The basket was a dark black weave with a satin gray-green bow, hints of purple glitter among the jet black tissue paper holding one bow-wrapped pineapple and a tall, slender dark bottle of perfume. There were several smaller jars to the side, which Jessica had traveled out of her way to find— The herbs inside she’d planted herself, with cautious recommendations from an old friend, and bottled. They were all-purpose little things, good for spells or cooking or potions or whatever. Alongside these three small jars was a much smaller vial, the script elegant in raised silver—
Essence of Nightshade.
Jessica approached the door trepidaciously; she wasn’t late but she wasn’t early-early. The ball was due to start sometime around—
Well. Her invitation hadn’t said, but when she’d arrived the lights seemed to be, er, low, and there were little goons everywhere. The one who had accepted her invitation in had tried to swat at her bottom, but being about two feet too low to the ground and just within emergency-frying-pan range had stopped his advances. She’d propped him up with a nearbye pike and hurried in, large gift basket in hand. Hopefully it’d be an appropriate gift for the Mistress of All Evil…
Still! The place was much busier than she had anticipated. A warm smile greeted her face— For all she worked she did enjoy a good party. She wondered briefly who had done the decor— The streamers were a nice touch to the various skulls…
Some familiar faces caught her eye, however, and she waved slightly to Hans and Bert. She hoped poor Hans was faring well— Roger had been.. Quite adamant about their attachment last she had seen him, and she knew quite well that was a little alarming. If she was honest, she didn’t remember much from the Snuggly Duckling… Musical sensation, but it had been a lovely time! Maybe.
Humming, she swept her way over to the gift table and deposited the basket. She paused and turned to adjust the bow, just-so, and turned back to the growing crowd.
"This should be quite the party…”
Wilbur was afraid of this pan wielding woman. However, Wilbur Robinson is never actually afraid. He greeted her warmly, breazing over her age comment, “I’m just… passing by. You know, meandering around, looking for adventure.” He smiled smugly, his arms crossed. When she referred to his hair, he reached up with his hand to see what he could do. “Yeah… I guess so. I’m not really sure, I have been walking around for quite some time, you know.” He gestured to the blue bird. “Are uh- You okay? What happened?”
[Remember to reblog as ‘text’, please! ^^ there’s a tutorial here.]
Lowering the pan, Jessica chuckled and moved her hand to her hip, weighing the iron in one hand vaguely, nodding slightly. Her brow didn’t fall and her smirk remained vaguely as she glanced behind him— Just in case, after all,
"Mmhmm. I’m fine, dear-” She grinned dully and tucked the pan away into her purse, where it was swallowed like a black hole absorbing a small star, and she tucked her hair back slightly, musing,
"Just a bit of a mishap. You know how it is- Wolves, weasels, that sort of thing. Always on your tail. Do I look like Red Riding Hood?” She paused, then added, “Don’t answer that.”
Continuing, she apprioased Wilbur from the side, and pointed vaguely to him, “And you? I don’t believe you’re the woodsy type. Not,” She chuckled warmly, “For a moment. Could you handle an adventure?” She turned back to him, and gestured to him vaguely, “You don’t seem the… Adventurous sort of toon, dear! No offence meant.”
Jessica adjusted the hem of her dress with a quick tug and returned to her feet with a soft ‘hmph!’ Behind her lay a scatter-brained weasel, reeling from the effects of a frying pan to the forehead and clutching at the spinning hearts and stars that bombarded him.
It had been a nice start to the…
Wilbur trudged through the woods, excited expeditions and adventure on his mind. In all honesty, Wilbur Robinson was very, very lost- But a Robinson never admits defeat. No sir. “Keep moving forward.” He said out loud, eyes looking up in the direction of the above trees. The boy wished he had a companion to be lost with, at least. He looked up and spied a woman, hitting a blue bird with a frying pan.
This was certainly a strange place he’d ended up in.
Jessica turned sharply, knees bent, arms at the read and frying pan back in front of her, her purse just hitting the dirt with a heavy thud, throwing up a small cloud of dust around her heels as she snapped,
"Who goes?! If you’re another weasel you’re in for a nasty shock, I assure you! AND THAT GOES DOUBLE FOR WOLVES!”
There was a brief panting pause as the sound of paws hurried away quickly. Jessica glanced to the side— Only a dusty outline remained where a wolf had been lurking. She scowled and returned her gaze sharp to where Wilbur emerged—
Relaxing, she stood and sighed, brushing back her hair and pouting with only an “Oh,” to acknowledge him. She bent down, retrieved her purse and wandered up to him curiously, almost casually, and prodded at him with the end of her pan,
"Are you a little young to be wandering the woods..” She circled the pan, and pointed it between his eyes, “On your own?”
She raised a brow, and grinned slowly, nodded to his hair, “Did you run through a bramble patch?”
Diablo squawked in acknowledgement and hopped off in the direction of the Forest of Thorns. He’d fly but, he didn’t think the pointy things on this human’s feet would let her walk as fast as that. When they approached the wall of brambles that surrounded the forest, they parted for him and revealed a clear path to the castle…Maleficent must still be watching…and she must really want to meet this shiny, red human. Diablo cawed and paused to check she was still following.
Once he was satisfied, he fluttered up to perch on a thorn-free bramble and tilted his head towards the path. He was a raven, he couldn’t exactly force the woman to go anywhere, he was a little small and he couldn’t speak person. He glided down towards the path and sat a few feet away, still in view, waiting for her to catch up.
Maleficent stared into the orb atop her staff, seeing through her raven’s eyes. This woman looked interesting, and rather useful. Maleficent could almost see the allure dripping from her smooth skin and she laughed to herself, a little more lust couldn’t hurt anyone.
Oh dear. Well. This is quite the unexpected— A bit of a thorny patch we’ve found ourselves in, isn’t it? Ha..Ha.
Jessica bought her hands and handbag closer as she followed Diablo through the forest and frowned slightly. It was darker and perhaps closer than she had considered, but the path was still relatively clear, if not foreboding. She raised a brow at Diablo, and murmured,
"I suspect you live here, then? Quite a dire place, even for a crow..”
The castle stood ahead and caused her a moment of pause. Tall and spiraling with dark bricks and dead lichen, it seemed to have almost an ethereal glow to it that pressed her to move forward. It wasn’t the coziest looking of abodes, but if it was a place for the night—
Well, she could handle herself! She straightened and huffed, willing herself courage. She muttered,
"Relax, Jessica. You handled Doom— You can handle a castle. They’re only.. Stories. Lots of stories."
She twisted the ring on her left hand and nodded fiercely. Only stories, she reassured herself— Even if she had firsthand knowledge of how… Real stories could become…