Post by lewis on Jul 25, 2014 11:35:22 GMT -5
A low, mechanical hum methodically assaulted Lewis's ears. He opened one eye a sliver, shuddered, and squeezed it back shut as a shaft of white drilled into his brain. Bright, so bright. He loathed the light, the ever seeking light that always found him when he hid. The pain, the ache in his head that the light induced was sickening.
The rat slowly adjusted to the cruel brilliance, scanning the setting beyond his cage. He was unused to the new, unusual and so very /bright/ world he had been thrown into. He had only left the nursery a few days previously. The nursery, the quiet dark nursery. He loved that nursery.
A few other rats were caged with him, unfamiliar and alien to him. But their emotions beat to the same pulse as his own, and he was drawn into their psychology. One was uncomfortable, shifting foot to foot, possibly because he was also new or disliked the prospect of being caged with Lewis. Feeling slightly hurt, he directed his attention to another, and then another. Bleak moods, the same bleak and empty hearts as his. He was thankful they were not sad. Sad hurt him, hurt him. His tail twitched.
Lewis flicked his direction of sight back to the noisy exterior, and through the haze of white noticed a beacon of color. He retraced the path of his eyes and tilted his head towards the source. There was a book, a thin open book on a table beneath his cage. But not a book that he normally saw, the ones with layers upon layers of sprawling black on white. This one was full of color. He inched towards the edge of his cage, looking over the shoulder of a whitecoat.
There were pictures instead of words, magical pictures so full of life and color that they almost seemed to move. His eyes widened and he pressed his paws to the glass. Most of the pictures were of a man in vibrant colors, kicking and punching people who looked terrible and mean. Lewis was saddened to see the pain of the magical paper men, but he looked on in awe and he started to notice a pattern, and saw that the pictures made a story, a story of fighting and hurting.
A whitecoat wearing large glasses suddenly obscured Lewis's vision and sat down in front of the picture book, turning the page. With a huff of irritation, the rat scurried to the side so that he could view the pages again, rolling up onto his hind legs and leaning into the glass. Several other men joined in communication with the Glasses Man and they all laughed for a moment, but Lewis was too caught up in the story to notice much.
Slowly he was drawn through the world of the brightly colored man, the brightly colored man who Lewis had deemed a good guy when he saw a picture of him kicking a paperlocked Whitecoat in the face. Mesmerized, mesmerized, his tail and whiskers twitched and his eyes were unblinking until the world had faded into memory, and the memory had evolved into desire. /I want to be a superhero/, he decided. /I want to be a superhero and save the day, and have superpowers and fight villains/, he thought. And he knew of a superhero beyond the prison of paper and ink beneath him, a rat with superpowers and an urge to liberate. "Come save me," Lewis whispered softly, his breath fogging the glass, "Come save me from the light, Blank."
(Note: no this will not evolve into rat yaoi)
The rat slowly adjusted to the cruel brilliance, scanning the setting beyond his cage. He was unused to the new, unusual and so very /bright/ world he had been thrown into. He had only left the nursery a few days previously. The nursery, the quiet dark nursery. He loved that nursery.
A few other rats were caged with him, unfamiliar and alien to him. But their emotions beat to the same pulse as his own, and he was drawn into their psychology. One was uncomfortable, shifting foot to foot, possibly because he was also new or disliked the prospect of being caged with Lewis. Feeling slightly hurt, he directed his attention to another, and then another. Bleak moods, the same bleak and empty hearts as his. He was thankful they were not sad. Sad hurt him, hurt him. His tail twitched.
Lewis flicked his direction of sight back to the noisy exterior, and through the haze of white noticed a beacon of color. He retraced the path of his eyes and tilted his head towards the source. There was a book, a thin open book on a table beneath his cage. But not a book that he normally saw, the ones with layers upon layers of sprawling black on white. This one was full of color. He inched towards the edge of his cage, looking over the shoulder of a whitecoat.
There were pictures instead of words, magical pictures so full of life and color that they almost seemed to move. His eyes widened and he pressed his paws to the glass. Most of the pictures were of a man in vibrant colors, kicking and punching people who looked terrible and mean. Lewis was saddened to see the pain of the magical paper men, but he looked on in awe and he started to notice a pattern, and saw that the pictures made a story, a story of fighting and hurting.
A whitecoat wearing large glasses suddenly obscured Lewis's vision and sat down in front of the picture book, turning the page. With a huff of irritation, the rat scurried to the side so that he could view the pages again, rolling up onto his hind legs and leaning into the glass. Several other men joined in communication with the Glasses Man and they all laughed for a moment, but Lewis was too caught up in the story to notice much.
Slowly he was drawn through the world of the brightly colored man, the brightly colored man who Lewis had deemed a good guy when he saw a picture of him kicking a paperlocked Whitecoat in the face. Mesmerized, mesmerized, his tail and whiskers twitched and his eyes were unblinking until the world had faded into memory, and the memory had evolved into desire. /I want to be a superhero/, he decided. /I want to be a superhero and save the day, and have superpowers and fight villains/, he thought. And he knew of a superhero beyond the prison of paper and ink beneath him, a rat with superpowers and an urge to liberate. "Come save me," Lewis whispered softly, his breath fogging the glass, "Come save me from the light, Blank."
(Note: no this will not evolve into rat yaoi)