Fishy
tits McGee (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
"Hnngg..... hnn.... mmmmmggrrh....what? Where am I?"
The last thing Winona could remember was Flannery going on about how she was going to rescue her.
Yeah sure, bet she brought a patented leather rope after using it to whack the horse she rode in on. It's like she never listened to all the vegan podcast links I sent her! Ugh, but she's so... hot...
She shook off the realization that she had hardly satiated any of her hungers in the past 12 hours, the grumbling of her stomach just barely deafening her stubborn libido. Where the hell was she anyway? She regarded the grim tunnel she had somehow found herself in. She looked above her head and remembered that the cobblestones of her cell floor were nearly identical to the ceiling she regarded now.
Did I... fall through the floor? That's not possible. I ate her stupid torcake. I tasted the fats of the dairy. And I was arrested! Doesn't that...
Everyone talked about how you would instantly lose your psychic powers if you broke vegan code. She thought about any time she had witnessed someone's vegan arrest before, like the time Cheryl got lost in the forest and accidentally ate some magic mushrooms, causing her to viciously attack a Weedle and devour it whole. She hadn't seen Cheryl since her arrest actually, and had no idea what had become of her after she was taken away...
CHERYL [REDACTED]
PRISONER # 2 304 892 5
CRIME(S):
POKéSLAUGHTER 1ST DEGREE, INGESTING ENDANGERED MUSHROOMS SPECIES,
MILF W/O CHILD
Was it possible that anyone who broke vegan code was imprisoned until their powers were gone? Did they even lose their powers at all?
Has Cheryl been imprisoned all this time?...
Winona snaps out of the vision, feeling now as though she might have actually hit her head when she went through her prison room floor. She rubbed at her temples, immediately recoiling from her own touch—her skull felt tenderized, completely unincorporated from any rigidity meant to exist in bone. Her vision was still blurred, but she knew she was back in her body when her nose detected fungus rather than fauna.
What is happening to me?! Where is Flannery? Why am I thinking of Cheryl, of all people??
...
...
...
Despite her being disoriented by her still-recovering vision, and a headache that rivaled the time Cynthia's Grandmother thought she saw an Unown that looked like a 3 and would not shut up about it, Winona had kept walking through the barely-visible passage and hit her head one last time on a wall.
God I hope that's the last time I hit my fucking head. I swear to Arceus, I'll adopt any diet necessary to stop banging my fuggin' noggin'. Look at me, my vernacular is heading toward the shitter. I need grace. I need air. I need to FLY, GOD DAMNIT.
Winona looked around, wondering where her feet had brought her when the rest of her body seemed to be fighting a war that originated squarely in her frontal lobe. She looked up:
part 2
part 3
part 4
"Hnngg..... hnn.... mmmmmggrrh....what? Where am I?"
Yeah sure, bet she brought a patented leather rope after using it to whack the horse she rode in on. It's like she never listened to all the vegan podcast links I sent her! Ugh, but she's so... hot...
She shook off the realization that she had hardly satiated any of her hungers in the past 12 hours, the grumbling of her stomach just barely deafening her stubborn libido. Where the hell was she anyway? She regarded the grim tunnel she had somehow found herself in. She looked above her head and remembered that the cobblestones of her cell floor were nearly identical to the ceiling she regarded now.
Did I... fall through the floor? That's not possible. I ate her stupid torcake. I tasted the fats of the dairy. And I was arrested! Doesn't that...
Everyone talked about how you would instantly lose your psychic powers if you broke vegan code. She thought about any time she had witnessed someone's vegan arrest before, like the time Cheryl got lost in the forest and accidentally ate some magic mushrooms, causing her to viciously attack a Weedle and devour it whole. She hadn't seen Cheryl since her arrest actually, and had no idea what had become of her after she was taken away...
CHERYL [REDACTED]
PRISONER # 2 304 892 5
CRIME(S):
POKéSLAUGHTER 1ST DEGREE, INGESTING ENDANGERED MUSHROOMS SPECIES,
MILF W/O CHILD
Has Cheryl been imprisoned all this time?...
Winona's vision is suddenly flooded with images that can't possibly exist in this dark, winding path: broad fields of wildflowers, Butterfree dancing in the air as if performing on an invisible stage, wild Bidoof and Starly lazing in the afternoon sun... She can hear a soft voice singing a lilting melody, as light as the dandelion fluff that tumbles across her view after being disturbed by the lazing friends who decide to roll over for a warmer sun spot.
Winona's head slowly bobs with the music and the breeze,
a spell so captivating that it is only broken when a hand caresses her neck—
Winona's head slowly bobs with the music and the breeze,
a spell so captivating that it is only broken when a hand caresses her neck—
Winona snaps out of the vision, feeling now as though she might have actually hit her head when she went through her prison room floor. She rubbed at her temples, immediately recoiling from her own touch—her skull felt tenderized, completely unincorporated from any rigidity meant to exist in bone. Her vision was still blurred, but she knew she was back in her body when her nose detected fungus rather than fauna.
What is happening to me?! Where is Flannery? Why am I thinking of Cheryl, of all people??
...
...
...
...OUCH!
Despite her being disoriented by her still-recovering vision, and a headache that rivaled the time Cynthia's Grandmother thought she saw an Unown that looked like a 3 and would not shut up about it, Winona had kept walking through the barely-visible passage and hit her head one last time on a wall.
God I hope that's the last time I hit my fucking head. I swear to Arceus, I'll adopt any diet necessary to stop banging my fuggin' noggin'. Look at me, my vernacular is heading toward the shitter. I need grace. I need air. I need to FLY, GOD DAMNIT.
Winona looked around, wondering where her feet had brought her when the rest of her body seemed to be fighting a war that originated squarely in her frontal lobe. She looked up:
and swore she could hear singing again...
part 3: fin
part 3: fin
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