Chapter 468

Chapter 468

Mama Bun, Mama Bun, Oh Mama Mama Mama. Mama Bun! Ba boom boom boom boom...

Unmoved by the upbeat tune or my fingers massaging her cheeks, Mama Bun glowers and pouts while looming overhead, her back paws thumping every so often in a show of anger and frustration. Yanking at my silken sheets in petulant protest, the grumpy bunny flings them aside to expose my poor, wizened frame to winters chilling bite, her way of announcing its time I got my lazy ass out of bed. Despite having a pet door to come and go as she pleases, Mama Bun will settle for nothing less than my personal attention as she runs and jumps about the courtyard, and much as Id like to sleep in, I only have myself to blame for spoiling her.

Pig fucking... donkey bastards... shit cunt dick gagger... Almost blacking out as I sit up, I groan and curse beneath my breath while waiting for the agony to subside. Anxious and concerned, Mama Bun stands on her hind legs to nuzzle my cheek, carefully keeping her paws tucked to her chest so as not to accidentally maim me. While a bit of an exaggeration, her digging claws are sharp and my skin has the durability of one-ply toilet paper, so it took a few weeks, many injuries, and a lot of screaming before she understood she couldnt touch her super fragile daddy anymore. Luckily, her tongue is smooth and fur soft, so aside from her claws, horns, and twenty-kilogram torso, she doesnt present much threat to my physical well-being, or at least less of a threat than the birds, bears, cattle, wildcats, and quins.

God I miss cuddling floofs... they used to be so soft and warm, but now every hug is a prickly gamble against death.

Delicate skin and constant agony are among the least pressing of my issues, because at least theyre somewhat manageable. An inner layer of silk and an outer layer of hemp protects me from mundane threats like sharp hair and abrasive surfaces while a spoonful of high-grade liquid painkiller numbs the worst of my pain. I mean sure, addiction is a threat and constipation is nothing to laugh at, but I dont have many other options until I fix myself. Most of this pain is because my Core is shattered leaving me exposed to the worlds harsh elements, like (probably) higher gravity and (maybe) stronger sunlight. While my Domain could theoretically protect me, without a Core, I cant gather Chi through Balance or Devouring, and without Chi or Heavenly Energy to power it, I cant Develop my Domain to protect me, assuming I can even replicate my single instance of success.

As always, the thought of my broken Core brings my eyes to the side of my room, where my broken Spiritual Weapons are mounted on the wall above the last of my water gourds. Peace is merely a hilt now, and Unity a metal pole, but Tranquility could still be used as a decent buckler if it wasnt as brittle as glass. There they sit in plain sight despite suggestions I have them broken down for scrap or hidden away in storage, a daily reminder of what Ive lost. I keep them there because as depressing as it is to see them broken and lifeless, they also offer hope because like myself, they are damaged, but not irreparably so. Even now, if I were to close my eyes and spin around the room, I could point out exactly where all three weapons are and even specify which is which, as easily as pointing at my foot or nose. Though their physical forms are battered and broken, our Spiritual connection remains, damaged and lessened, but intact, which means there is still hope, and these days, hope is in short supply.

...

Well, that was kind of a downer. Time for my medicine. Hooray for drugs!

No! This is medicinal, not recreational. Do not get addicted. Drugs are bad mmkay? One spoonful a day, no more.

One benefit of an under-performing body is that the effects of drugs are not only more pronounced, they also last longer too, else Id worry more about addiction. Even then, I make sure my medicine is strictly controlled by Tokta and no one else, because Im a hundred percent certain hes sadistic enough to ignore me if I go pleading for more. Mom, Dad, Taduk, and Lin all worry about my suffering and would happily drug me up to the gills, but not only is the medical purification process expensive and time-consuming, it also muddles my thoughts and interferes with my attempts to come up with a solution to my current issues. Im hardly a stranger to pain and Id like to remain as clear-headed as possible, because who knows when inspiration or Insight might strike. Granted, Im also not a big fan of screaming every time the wind blows across my skin, but this is a happy medium I can accept, and Im sure Ill figure out a quick fix to my problems soon enough.

My broken Core, like any other ailment or disorder, can be fixed. I know it can be overcome because people have done it before, so if they can do it, so can I, because I am the man who does the impossible. The odds are stacked against me, but when have they not been? At least this time, I have a general idea of what to do. Fuck you world. Im Falling Rain, and I will never give up and never surrender.

But like... whats the rush? Im kinda enjoying myself, though the days do get a little monotonous. I miss movies. I dont like opera and live plays are just god-awful. Maybe I should start my own play troupe and teach them how to act. Hmm... I cant feel my face. Wait. Am I supposed to feel my face? Maybe if I touch it. Yup, definitely felt that. Yuck, my skin is so oily, I hate it. Ooh, found a pimple. Oh yes, this sucker is ripe for the popping. I need a mirror. Its disgusting, but I cant help myself. Theres something fascinating about squeezing the disgusting, white semi-liquid out of a nice, juicy pimple and watching it splatter across the mirror...

After getting dressed and taking a seat at the vanity table, I look up to find a paper scroll hanging over the mirror. Written in Lins neat and stylish calligraphy, it says, stop popping pimples, punctuated by a series of adorable angry faces depicting her, Mila, Yan, Song, and Luo-Luo, all scowling and easily identifiable thanks to their half-beast traits, or lack thereof. My sweet little Lin-Lin works so hard to take care of me, and even though Yan and Mila arent here, I know its only because they needed to vent their anger on the poor, unsuspecting Defiled. I worry about them, but Tenjin and Tursinai volunteered to look after Yan while Alsantset and Charok stepped in to guard Mila. Its still dangerous out there, but asking my wifeys not to go out and fight would be selfish and stupid. What right do I have to interfere with their dreams? Mila and Yan both want to become great warriors and generals, so all I can do is see them off with a smile and welcome them home the same way.

Falling Rain, house husband. Honestly, not the worst fate in the world. Take away the constant agony and doddering frailty, and I could easily love this life.

Hoping to be less scarred and pimply for everyone during the new year celebrations, I leave the whitish lump intact and go about the rest of my morning routine before hobbling out into the courtyard, bundled in a thick winter jacket to ward off the cold, biting wind. The manor walls block the sun from shining directly into the yard before noon, but the ambient glare is still strong enough to hurt my eyes as I make my way to sit beside Mom. Blinking to adjust to the light, my vision clears just in time to see Mama Bun springboard off of Baloos furry butt and do a back flip through the air, landing none too gracefully in the grass before turning to see my reaction.

Shes so cute I could almost die, like a child demanding attention and praise from daddy...

I mean, sure, Im a little in love with her and would go to great lengths to make her happy, but its not like anything would come of it even if she reciprocated my feelings, not until I fix this whole debilitating weakness thing and icky master/slave relationship...

Suppressing the urge to sigh, I snuggle with Lin and pull out a box of fresh shrimp while she lets loose with a piercing whistle. A tiny splash and a small rustle of grass gives Pong Pong away as he darts out of the pond and scurries over to my lap. Diving into the box with a satisfied squeak, he munches away at the crunchy, delectable delights and makes short work of fifteen palm-length shrimp, a horrifying, yet fascinating sight. Finished with his meal, the tiny turtle climbs out of the box and hunkers down to tolerate my affections, his eyes wide and mouth open in hopes of more shrimp. Sorry little guy, I whisper, giving his head a light scratch and enjoying the smooth, supple feeling of his wet skin. No more shrimp for today, but I got plenty of other treats. Sadly, as per usual, Pong Pong doesnt want anything to do with veggies, dried fish, or various other snacks Ive brought him, and he gives a little mournful squeak before hopping off to do his business in a pan of water.

Its annoying how he still demands to poop in a container when the pond is right there. All I do is empty the pan the moment hes done, but if I dont put one down, hell squeak up a storm until

A heart-rending shriek rips through the air and I almost fall out of my walker, but Lin and Mom both reach out to support me while Song leaps to her feet with weapon in hand. Gasping in horror, she points at the source of the shrill scream even as more sound out in tandem, a tragic, mournful wail which fills me with fear and despair, doubly so when I set eyes on the horrible bloodbath taking place in the park beside us.

So much blood... So much ferocity... Its an all-out, no-holds-barred, bunny brawl...

Standing on her hind legs, Mama Bun lays the smack-down on her sweet babies as they fight to surge past her, butting heads and locking horns in a family feud of epic proportions. All thirteen buns present in the citadel are taking part, shoving, kicking, and clawing in a chaotic pile of fur and blood, displaying a never before seen savage ferocity so at odds with their regular, happy selves.

Running over to break the fight up, Lin pushes the bunbuns apart to no avail, and even Song is helpless to stop them. Letting out a cry of surprise, my sweet wifey drops to the ground and my heart skips a beat, but mere seconds later, she hops back up unscathed with a bundle of grass clutched in her hand held overhead, its roots still stuck to a clump of dirt. Immediately, the bunbuns stop their fight and crowd around my wifeys legs, hopping and thumping in an attempt to capture whats in her hands. Luckily, it seems like none of them are too badly wounded, and a few even go so far as to flop on their sides to offer their bellies for pets, ignoring their bleeding wounds and torn ears in desperate appeal for the treat. After studying the treat in question, I realize the item which sparked this fight was none other than a clump of dragon whisker grass, one of the more common Spiritual Plants, but a Spiritual Plant nonetheless.

The question is: how? Weve been here for weeks so its not like its been there the whole time, so how could a Spiritual Plant grow in the middle of a populated field? I swear we sat there like two, maybe three weeks ago, doing the exact same thing were doing right

The pieces come together and I glance down at Pong Pongs poop pan, my eyes no doubt glimmering with greed as I stare at the runny poop floating in its watery depths.

It couldnt be... could it? It makes sense though, and its not even too far a stretch...

When I first came across Pong Pong, his shell was covered in Spiritual Algae, the same stuff found on Sir Inkys rock. Then, there was the whole unfortunate business with the bunbuns where I found them drinking Pong Pongs poop water and accidentally splashed it all around my yurt trying to get them away from it. In the following weeks, Id often find the bunbuns snacking on something in the vicinity of his poop disposal area, but for the sake of my mental well-being, I never took a close look at what they were eating, or even thought about it at all, but now the pieces are all coming together. This isnt the first time Mama Buns gotten in a fight with her babies over food in the wild, with the most recent one in memory being when she punted Blackjack away the same day we first fought Pudge. I distinctly remember Mama Bun jumping out of my embrace and racing ahead the moment we rode into our old campsite, making a beeline to where my yurt had been placed a few weeks prior instead of the flower-filled meadow beside us, but I chalked it up to hunger and stupidity.

Which honestly, was a pretty stupid assumption. Shes a lazy, spoiled bun who knows to inspect at my pockets when she wants something to eat, so why would she leave the comfort of my arms if not for a high value treat, like say a young, tender Spiritual Plant?

Does this mean Spiritual Plants grow when fertilized by Pong Pongs precious, magical poop? Did I just solve a millennia old mystery? Just think of the possibilities if this is true. I could farm Spiritual Plants. Endless ingredients for priceless, life-saving medicines, not the mention the ability to test any and all recipes or elixirs which might help me fix my Core and Spiritual Self. Maybe I could even grow Spiritual Rice to eat, or a Spiritual Tree which grows Spiritual Fruits, and use them to feed an army of powerful, intelligent, affectionate bunbuns! This is game-changing, not to mention it would prove the existence of other creatures like Pong Pong, flying creatures which leave their Spiritual Plant nourishing poop wherever they drop it...

...Also, I should wash my hands and never kiss the stupid turtle again. If his shell was covered in Spiritual Algae, and Spiritual Algae grows from his poop...

Gross. Divine Turtle my ass, what sort of Divinity swims around in their own poop?

Chapter Meme

Mama Bun's song