T̷h̷e̸ ̵G̶a̴m̸e̵ (Chat Thread)

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HeavensHens88 said:
owo and gallbladder nuzzles xd
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HeavensHens88 said:
Pickles took a long moment to evaluate her current situation after the events to actually make it so had transpired.

For one, she was free of goat.
For two, she was now in the presence of the thing that had relieved her of goat.

So she found it safe to figure that her level of peril had increased exponentially in the past thirty three point eight seconds. A record for her- unless she was going to count the time she'd figured out the formula to make a microwave explode while routinely cooking a packet of Ben's Original Ready Rice.

As for the identity of her savior-possibly-turning-slayer, her mind was giving her nothing. The build and hair suggested mammal, while the extremities and wings stubbornly argued reptile. The eyes swore a week of day- and nightmares.

"Yep indeedy do," she responded suddenly, having deemed that the situation couldn't be worsened by conversation. "Last time I checked, anyhow."

Since her body yet maintained its general state of life, Pickles then opted to explore the contents of the bag she had clutched to her chest like it was a gas mask after a certain roommate of hers had consumed an Amy's Gluten-Free Burrito.
She first encountered a water bottle, then a distinctly labeled food bar. Next her fingers curled around a cold tin and, curious, she pulled it out for closer inspection.
That inspection wasn't close enough, so she unscrewed the top and took a hearty whiff.

It was altogether. standard-medicinal-gel-scented.

Pickles pouted, only to finally take note of something laying alongside her, presumably dislodged in her dive for the bag.

It was a speargun, not unlike that she was used to wielding on fishing excursions. It was a bona fide AB Biller, stainless steel. Except it wasn't like any model she'd used in how it was a brilliant neon blue. Positively phosphorescent.

She turned the beautiful device over in her hands a few times, her confidence bolstered greatly. Now she could spear fish whenever it possessed her to do so.
Or maybe she wasn't confined to fish.

Ah, yes, back to her current company.

Pickles returned the thorough eye contact and, after a moment's consideration, lay the speargun back down. This creature hadn't done anything to incite an offense. But, at the same time, the matter of whether it would elect to change that in the near future was debatable.

"Alright, let's get this straight."
She had to summon all of her self-control to resist her usual iconic followup to that remark.
"Are you or are you not interested in eating me?" Again, no particular indications were presented. The staring contest of the ages continued- if it could be called that, seeing how she'd lost the moment they'd begun. "Not to be pushy, but this whole shebang could go over much easier if we clear the air here and now."

Wow, and she'd thought her ex had a violating gaze.

"Okay, then, well, in the meanwhile, I'm going to go about returning from whence I came." Having gathered her belongings, she saluted the creature for its admirable impersonation of a stone gargoyle and went about navigating her way back down the mountainside.
"Yeah," she affirmed as she worked on removing her bra strap from a protruding chunk of granite.
"Getting on that," she ascertained as she struggled with removing the good ankle from the crevice it'd wedged itself in.
"Annnnnnytime now," she vowed as she tore her shorts free from a patch of briars.
"Making headway," she declared as her eye met stick.

Well. She'd really asked for it.

With nauseating rapidity that made Pickles wish she'd remembered her capacity to close her eyes, open sky became sequestering canopy, hostile mountain became navigable marshlands, thin air became humid mugginess, and dog-dragon-deer-monkey became person.
Well, person with cat features.
She let herself focus on the person part.

"'Sup," Pickles greeted brightly, standing on both legs on solid ground for the first time since yesterday. "How's the end of the world looking for you?"

Then, without adieu, she toppled face-first into swamp dirt.
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I don't know if I've said this before (and if I have, I'll say it again), but I adore your writing style. You capture emotions so well, and have never once been bored when reading your stuff. /gen
 

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