Re: Mini-Grand 5105 (Round 2: Game Planet Dome #421)
09-18-2011, 01:21 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Niall.
Conte took a deep breath, then plunged her head, face first, into the muddy banks of the river she had decided was called "Conte Creek". Conte clawed the banks of the river for thick mud and when she had grabbed two handfuls of dirt she slopped them onto her neon blue hair and massaged it into her scalp. Her hunter's instincts, which she decided she had only an hour ago, told her that she needed to blend into her environment in order to avoid be detected by the gun-toting crazies, and a flash of bright blue moving between the trees might be enough to give her away.
Conte had no so much changed her personality as added onto it. Every decision to give herself more personality traits that she made increased and amplified her emotions, thoughts and her desires. She was the gardener to her own mind, and it had grown rather overgrown within the last hour. Were she aware of the potential mental anarchy she was creating she may have done some pruning. While she'd given herself certain desirable qualities, she'd neglected to remove the childish personality that overrid many of her decisions. And why would she? Part of being a child is not wanting to grow up.
Wiping the mud from her eyes, she turned back to her rucksack. It contained her camping supplies, rations and her hunting rifle. She had been treking through the forest with it for the past half an hour, never meeting anyone, never seeing anyone, but occasionally hearing spurts of gunfire in the far distance. Wherever the fighting was taking place, she had seemed lucky enough to have stayed out of it so far.
As Conte reached down to pick up her rucksack, a shadowy shape darted out of the trees, under her outstretched hand and into her rucksack. Startled, Conte took a step back, then cautiously circled her rucksack until she could see into it. Looking back at her from the depths of her pack were two large, piercing, yellow eyes.
"Hello?"
Conte reached out a hand in a sign of peace. Two black ears, followed by a head emerged from the sack, then a body and finally a tail curled out behind it. Conte gasped in delight.
"Meow."
An observer more keen than Conte would have noticed that this feline did not actually mew as a normal cat would have, but specifically spoke the word "Meow". Rather sardonically too, at that.
"You're a kitty!"
Conte's inner child screamed with delight, and considering how that inner child took up most of her brain's processing power, so did she.
In the distance, the sound of footsteps could be heard, and the appeared to be getting louder.
Conte took a deep breath, then plunged her head, face first, into the muddy banks of the river she had decided was called "Conte Creek". Conte clawed the banks of the river for thick mud and when she had grabbed two handfuls of dirt she slopped them onto her neon blue hair and massaged it into her scalp. Her hunter's instincts, which she decided she had only an hour ago, told her that she needed to blend into her environment in order to avoid be detected by the gun-toting crazies, and a flash of bright blue moving between the trees might be enough to give her away.
Conte had no so much changed her personality as added onto it. Every decision to give herself more personality traits that she made increased and amplified her emotions, thoughts and her desires. She was the gardener to her own mind, and it had grown rather overgrown within the last hour. Were she aware of the potential mental anarchy she was creating she may have done some pruning. While she'd given herself certain desirable qualities, she'd neglected to remove the childish personality that overrid many of her decisions. And why would she? Part of being a child is not wanting to grow up.
Wiping the mud from her eyes, she turned back to her rucksack. It contained her camping supplies, rations and her hunting rifle. She had been treking through the forest with it for the past half an hour, never meeting anyone, never seeing anyone, but occasionally hearing spurts of gunfire in the far distance. Wherever the fighting was taking place, she had seemed lucky enough to have stayed out of it so far.
As Conte reached down to pick up her rucksack, a shadowy shape darted out of the trees, under her outstretched hand and into her rucksack. Startled, Conte took a step back, then cautiously circled her rucksack until she could see into it. Looking back at her from the depths of her pack were two large, piercing, yellow eyes.
"Hello?"
Conte reached out a hand in a sign of peace. Two black ears, followed by a head emerged from the sack, then a body and finally a tail curled out behind it. Conte gasped in delight.
"Meow."
An observer more keen than Conte would have noticed that this feline did not actually mew as a normal cat would have, but specifically spoke the word "Meow". Rather sardonically too, at that.
"You're a kitty!"
Conte's inner child screamed with delight, and considering how that inner child took up most of her brain's processing power, so did she.
In the distance, the sound of footsteps could be heard, and the appeared to be getting louder.