(no subject)
It shouldn't be so light outside when I have to do homework =(
The thing about Redav Htrad was that he was too good for his own… good. Maybe it was less that he was so extremely good and more that he was too naïve and innocent to be capable of anything remotely not good. None of these thoughts ever passed through his pretty little white helmet, though. In fact, not many thoughts ever did. Rather, they seemed to be a rarity within his consciousness, which tended to be otherwise occupied with a mix of other things - bunnies’ thoughts, to be precise. To be quite honest, Redav’s life was kind of a casual, mindless spaceship-romp through a children’s petting farm. Literally.
Redav lived about 200 million bajillion miles above Central Park. It was arguable that it would be annoying to live that close to the traffic and loud city life of New New York, but Redav found that he was fairly comfortable with it. He enjoyed stepping out of his small, 5 million room apartment and onto his custom-made, pure-white flying carpet that his mother had insisted was a necessity, to save his ‘poor little legs’ the trip to the local downward elevator. From there, he would float leisurely down, down past the busy shops and malls and supermarkets and hobos local to New New York City, and directly into Central Park. Here, he usually proceeded to play with the adorable bunnies that flocked towards him.
This day was different, though. Where are the bunnies? Redav wondered in consternation. It was giving him a headache; he had never once had such an absolutely empty presence of mind. That is to say, he had become so accustomed to hearing the bunnies’ thoughts that the loss of these thoughts was… devastating, to say the least.
Where are the bunnies? Redav thought again, his white, plastic brow creasing as he became even more worried. After all, there were only so many places thirty bunnies could hide in Central Park, and why would the bunnies hide from him? He had carrots, and the bunnies loved carrots. He knew they did because that was precisely what they thought about fifty million times per day, whilst he was in their presence.
Even more worry-inducing was the thought that he couldn’t hear them - in his mind or, well, out of it.
This, of course, called for an investigation. Redav was very good at these investigation type things. His mother often said he was a very, very smart little boy; she then proceeded to adjust his white, plastic body armor, tighten his white, plastic belt and unceremoniously shoo him out the door.
That was last week.
Still, his mother thought he was very intelligent, and Redav agreed. After some careful deliberation, he decided that he would prove her correct - and save the bunnies from whatever evil harm may have been done unto them.
He would start by asking the platypus.
The thing about Redav Htrad was that he was too good for his own… good. Maybe it was less that he was so extremely good and more that he was too naïve and innocent to be capable of anything remotely not good. None of these thoughts ever passed through his pretty little white helmet, though. In fact, not many thoughts ever did. Rather, they seemed to be a rarity within his consciousness, which tended to be otherwise occupied with a mix of other things - bunnies’ thoughts, to be precise. To be quite honest, Redav’s life was kind of a casual, mindless spaceship-romp through a children’s petting farm. Literally.
Redav lived about 200 million bajillion miles above Central Park. It was arguable that it would be annoying to live that close to the traffic and loud city life of New New York, but Redav found that he was fairly comfortable with it. He enjoyed stepping out of his small, 5 million room apartment and onto his custom-made, pure-white flying carpet that his mother had insisted was a necessity, to save his ‘poor little legs’ the trip to the local downward elevator. From there, he would float leisurely down, down past the busy shops and malls and supermarkets and hobos local to New New York City, and directly into Central Park. Here, he usually proceeded to play with the adorable bunnies that flocked towards him.
This day was different, though. Where are the bunnies? Redav wondered in consternation. It was giving him a headache; he had never once had such an absolutely empty presence of mind. That is to say, he had become so accustomed to hearing the bunnies’ thoughts that the loss of these thoughts was… devastating, to say the least.
Where are the bunnies? Redav thought again, his white, plastic brow creasing as he became even more worried. After all, there were only so many places thirty bunnies could hide in Central Park, and why would the bunnies hide from him? He had carrots, and the bunnies loved carrots. He knew they did because that was precisely what they thought about fifty million times per day, whilst he was in their presence.
Even more worry-inducing was the thought that he couldn’t hear them - in his mind or, well, out of it.
This, of course, called for an investigation. Redav was very good at these investigation type things. His mother often said he was a very, very smart little boy; she then proceeded to adjust his white, plastic body armor, tighten his white, plastic belt and unceremoniously shoo him out the door.
That was last week.
Still, his mother thought he was very intelligent, and Redav agreed. After some careful deliberation, he decided that he would prove her correct - and save the bunnies from whatever evil harm may have been done unto them.
He would start by asking the platypus.