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Snippet #2724005

located in The Source of Mind, a part of The Manic Mind of Man, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Source of Mind

The strange, ever shifting dreamscape of wonder and torment.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jane Blackmore
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~Somewhere in The Source, Sometime Late~


Jane Blackmore trudged down a lonely path, please note that 'path' is a figurative term here, as there are no roads in The Source. Not this far out, anyways; there had been attempts to pave proper paths and roads, but all attempts to do so were met with extreme resistance from the plant-based Sourcekinds on the basis that such actions are racist discrimination towards immotile greenery. Under strong public pressure, all attempts to pave roads through here and related construction projects were quickly terminated. Rumours have it that one of the higher-ups that made this decision is related to one of the trees here...such rumours were quickly dismissed due to a lack of evidence and the alleged starter of these rumours was promptly hanged and incinerated for slandering authority figures.

Jane knew about the history of this area, and gave her surroundings the evil eye. Clearly, she was not impressed with the unfortunate lack of roads. This being The Source, some of the grass and plants literally shrivelled in terror and slight annoyance as some lumbering creature stepped over them again as Jane stared at them with the look of undisguised disdain before quickly shifting back into place with a slight rustle between them.

You know, this place is a dump. I mean, look at it, there's no toilets; no restaurants; the locals are assholes and most of them don't give good directions. A Voice abruptly interrupted rudely, ruining the...okay, admittedly mediocre scenery, but Jane appreciated the silence, dammit.

Shut up, you know you are annoying, right? I never asked for your opinions and I certainly never asked the locals for directions. Jane retorted snidely, attacking the Voices in her head. Most of them had almost immediately chimed in, offering opinions on disjointedly, making it hard for her to concentrate.

I want to taste fooooood~

Ugh, I'm tired; we've walking for ages. Can't we rest? Don't you know getting good sleep is a vital part of being a healthy and productive person? Have you forgotten your health class teacher's advises already? Your feet hurts, why don't you go see someone 'bout that? I heard that there's some travellers capable of doing some pretty wondrous shit in the cities.

Yeah well, our very existence was founded upon the fact that we can annoy you. You should've aware of that ever since, oh I don't know, maybe when you went to the psychiatrist for the first time around?

Look, fine, I'll do whatever; jus-just shut up, okay? You're making my head hurt! She growled inwardly in frustration, her complexion paled, not that it made much of a difference, her sickly complexion was already bad enough that people would've mistaken her for an albino if it wasn't for the fact that she had mousy brown hair that told otherwise. Her hair needed a trim as well, but Sourcekind barbers are a rare commodity and having her hair cut any other way don't make a lick of difference. After all, a traveller's appearance is a more-or-less reflection of their state of mind/mental well-being; therefore, traditional methods of altering appearances no longer apply to them in any way. Which was a shame, because she also needed a shower; Jane reeks of some evil combination of rotten eggs, spoilt milk, dead fish, and dried blood left in a barrel to ferment on a hot summer day; she doubts she'll ever look healthy and smell like pine cones and flowers ever again. With or without a shower. She rubbed her temples distractedly as she tried to deal with the Voices in her head, they were growing stronger day by day.

She stumbled, and ultimately tripped on a loose vine hidden in the undergrowth and crashed onto the ground. She nicked one of her fingers in the process as well, spilling a few drops of black blood that is of an unnatural hue onto the ground. The plants' reacted with mischievous laughter and a billowing whistle that carried over the wind. She cursed inwardly, now wearing a scowl on her face as she climbed to her feet. Somehow, she knew this was going to be a long day.

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