Yay

internutter:

internutter:

With the amount of sense the last few hours have not made, I’m tempted to believe that this is all a simulation someone or something built into the universe for people foolish enough to have attempted what I did…

[AN: I am having intense internet trouble at the mome so I’m giving this to you from my phone. Forgive the lack of the usual formatting]

The trees were gathering water and farming people.

This… this was wrong. The sky was the colour of earth and the earth itself was blue. And… slightly marshy? But it was dry. A dry and supple sponge that nevertheless conspired to squelch.

A triffid on its leash was hissing at her. It looked exactly like the ridiculous rubber monsters of the movie. She guarded her eyes, just in case, and stumbled onwards down the soggy road.

One tree-child, naked as a jay, ran screaming from her. Yelling what sounded like, “Groot! Groot!” to the others.

She was out of range of the hissing triffid, at least. Shayde looked the lead tree squarely in its… face? and carefully, slowly, assumed a position of surrender.

Fingers interlaced and hands on top of her head. Kneeling in the squishy ground with her ankles crossed. And, because she was two heartbeats away from messing what was left of her clothes, Shayde did the one thing that always helped her calm down.

She sang.

“Picture yourself on a boat on a river… with tangerine trees and marmalade skies… Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly. A girl with kaleidoscope eyes…”

She peeked. Okay. This was good. They weren’t exactly aiming their weapons at her. But they were approaching with caution.

This was not the time to grin and show her sharp teeth. This was a time for staying very still and not doing anything at all threatening.

“Fimbalism finger fink,” the leader demanded. “Krelborn groot lalama!”

“Rapacious radishes,” she replied, and almost kicked herself. “Look. You cannae understand me. I cannae understand you. Mebbe a wee bit o’ pantomime?”

“Sconculous! Erid flelow carnarvon?”

Shayde sighed. This was going to be a long day. “Would ye believe, I’m mostly harmless?”

[Muse food remaining: 18. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]