CHOICE SIX (END)
You judge the gap with a quick look and then go with your gut before you have time to really consider it very hard. You run, hard and fast, as quickly as you can to get away from the creature.
Your feet slap against the hard stone and echo down the corridor you’ve dashed down. You can still hear the creature shuffling behind you, and you just make out its scratchy voice calling after you. You don’t stop though, pushing yourself to run even faster and uncaring of where you are headed.
You are running so fast that you slam smack into a closed door. You see stars and start to fall, but your adrenaline keeps you upright and you reel backwards to grab at the door handle, ripping the door open and throwing yourself across the threshold.
You slam the door behind you and lean against it, panting and light headed.
Once you get your breath and you have a chance to notice what is around you, you realize you are being stared at by several pairs of curious eyes.
Five or six people, who look to have been in a very intense iconning session before you disturbed them, are looking at you as though you’ve grown a second head. They appear to be ordinary, non-scary types much like yourself, and you can tell from the various stages of composition they are all immersed in that they are a very talented group.
“Are you quite alright there?”
You open your mouth to reply, but all that bubbles out is laughter with a slightly hysterical edge to it.
One of them walks over to you--a different one from the one who had spoken previously--and places a comforting arm around your shoulder, drawing you farther into the room.
“You look like you’ve had quite the day. Why don’t you stay here with us? Our multi-maker community is always looking for new talent and we were just thinking about adding some new people.”
You look over your shoulder at the door, imagining the creature on the other side. Anything was better than that, and you’ve heard tales of multi-maker communities in other parts of the land where icon makers join up to improve their skills as a collective. You’d thought about searching for one before, but you’ve never thought you were skilled enough to join one.
You look up at the maker who still has their arm around you.
“I’d really like that,” you say, and the whole group smiles at you as they go back to work.
You swing your graphics program off your back and set up at a table near the one who had guided you in, and you smile happily as the terror begins to abate and the happy zen state of iconning making takes you over.
You look up at the others awhile later, laughing at one of their jokes. They smile back. You’re one of them now.
THEME: COMFORT ZONE
blue_emotion | pamkips | dashberlin | hauntes | petite_tomate
Your feet slap against the hard stone and echo down the corridor you’ve dashed down. You can still hear the creature shuffling behind you, and you just make out its scratchy voice calling after you. You don’t stop though, pushing yourself to run even faster and uncaring of where you are headed.
You are running so fast that you slam smack into a closed door. You see stars and start to fall, but your adrenaline keeps you upright and you reel backwards to grab at the door handle, ripping the door open and throwing yourself across the threshold.
You slam the door behind you and lean against it, panting and light headed.
Once you get your breath and you have a chance to notice what is around you, you realize you are being stared at by several pairs of curious eyes.
Five or six people, who look to have been in a very intense iconning session before you disturbed them, are looking at you as though you’ve grown a second head. They appear to be ordinary, non-scary types much like yourself, and you can tell from the various stages of composition they are all immersed in that they are a very talented group.
“Are you quite alright there?”
You open your mouth to reply, but all that bubbles out is laughter with a slightly hysterical edge to it.
One of them walks over to you--a different one from the one who had spoken previously--and places a comforting arm around your shoulder, drawing you farther into the room.
“You look like you’ve had quite the day. Why don’t you stay here with us? Our multi-maker community is always looking for new talent and we were just thinking about adding some new people.”
You look over your shoulder at the door, imagining the creature on the other side. Anything was better than that, and you’ve heard tales of multi-maker communities in other parts of the land where icon makers join up to improve their skills as a collective. You’d thought about searching for one before, but you’ve never thought you were skilled enough to join one.
You look up at the maker who still has their arm around you.
“I’d really like that,” you say, and the whole group smiles at you as they go back to work.
You swing your graphics program off your back and set up at a table near the one who had guided you in, and you smile happily as the terror begins to abate and the happy zen state of iconning making takes you over.
You look up at the others awhile later, laughing at one of their jokes. They smile back. You’re one of them now.
THEME: COMFORT ZONE
blue_emotion | pamkips | dashberlin | hauntes | petite_tomate