Grab critter, hug critter. Is emotional support critter now.
You kneel down, inspecting the strange creature. It waddles over towards you a little, staring up at you with wide, friendly eyes. It either doesn’t realize you dropped it, or doesn’t mind. Maybe it’s just so fat that a fall doesn’t really hurt it?
You give it a cautious poke, which the strange creature leans into, making a happy little noise as it rubs against your finger. Its bare skin is soft, smooth, and a little warm. It seems to be brightly colored, and though you’re colorblind and can’t tell
what color it is, that seems odd for such a seemingly defenseless creature. Maybe it’s related to some kind of frog? You’ve seen bright frogs before, and they don’t have fur.
Don't touch that thing, you don't know where it's been!
That’s… true. You’ve heard that brightly colored frogs are actually dangerous, despite how harmless they look. The prickling in your head makes it hard to remember exactly
what made them dangerous, but… maybe this creature is too. Maybe it was confined in the pot for that reason--its stubby little legs probably meant it wasn’t able to climb out, so it was… trapped.
That actually makes you feel really bad for the thing. It was trapped in an even tinier cell, inside yours, and now the person who freed it is debating whether she should be afraid of it. You give it another little poke, watching as it gives another happy little chirping sound and rubs against your finger. It seems to really like affection, it must have been lonely in there… poor thing.
You pick the creature up, watching as it snuggles happily into your hands, folding its legs underneath it. The small thing gives a contented little sigh as it relaxes. It’s way too trusting of you, you just dropped it a minute ago, and it is
happy to be held. Maybe it was someone’s pet? It can’t possibly be a wild animal, it doesn’t seem like it would survive for even a minute if it had to fend for itself.
You hug it close to you with the crook of your arm as you fish through your pocket for the lockpick. The little creature wiggles around a little before settling and nuzzling against you, clearly happy to be held. It’s cute enough to make you smile a little, though you’re still very worried about that monster outside the cell. You can’t hear its footsteps, at least, so… it probably didn’t hear the pot being dropped, or at least didn’t decide to come back.
That- umm. Get the door open. No matter what that's what we need to be doing now. Shouldn't be too complex, just put the hook end in the key hole and feel around for something to manipulate.
also, check to see what else we have in our pockets (depending on how realistic the GM is being, we may need a tensioning wrench to go along with that lockpick. Also, depending on the type of lock, a skeleton key may have been more appropriate. …I’ll shut up now before God kills our catgirl.).
Small creature secured in the crook of your arm, you reach through the bars of the door and start fiddling with the lock. You don’t know how to pick a lock--or, at least, you can’t remember how to through the prickling sensation that’s been clouding your thoughts–but you can give it your best shot. How hard can it be?
You press the lockpick into the keyhole at the bottom of the padlock, and just kinda… shove it in and out repeatedly, with no real idea what you’re doing. You can feel the lockpick scratching against the inside of the lock, but it doesn’t really feel like you’re doing anything. Then again, it probably doesn’t feel like anything until you succeed? You just try harder, your tail lashing behind you as you grow more stressed. This
has to work. You’ll definitely figure this out, otherwise you’ll be trapped in this awful cell until you die.
Suddenly, the lock clicks. And falls off the door. That… was easy. You blink a few times, surprised with yourself. Maybe you actually do know how to pick a lock, and just did it right by instinct? You can’t imagine it’s normally that easy.
You take a deep breath, give the creature in your arms another little hug--which is rewarded with a happy little chirl--and pull the door back. It swings inward with a loud creak that makes you wince. Not wanting to waste time, you peek outside.
You’re in the middle of a long hallway, lit by burning torches. More cell doors, just like yours, line both walls. You can’t hear or see any other prisoners, though. You can’t hear the monster, either. That should be relieving, but this place creeps you out too much for you to really relax. You shouldn’t be here.
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Topic: (ISG) Cure (Read 11806 times)