Transformice - FROMAGE

The world of Transformice can seem like a cutesy, innocent place. But that is where the problem lies, for not everything would be as it seems. Every little 'pure' society can have it's flaws, it's cracks in the cement. Cement that festers with weed and horrible little flowers with dark roots that stretched forth, further splitting the cement.

That was the world of Transformice.

It would seem strange, but there was a certain set of rules that came to living in Transformice. To thriving and ensuring that life was good.

Number one.

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There was an instinct to mice. To get the cheese. It's something that every mouse desired; it's been imprinted in their bones since the dawn of time.

Prismaz's whiskers twitched with excitement. Her little body trembled. The excitement; her own excitement, was thick in the air. Transformice. The place that every mouse dreamed to be. From her spot within the hole, she watched the map play out. It was similar to the simulation she had went through mere moments ago, ensuring that she would be able to understand her goal and know what was expected of her in this new and strange place.

She inhaled shakily, watching as the mice raced back to their hole with cheese atop their backs, moving swiftly and efficiently. Gracefully, they moved over the terrain like flowing water and entered the hole before the seconds ticked down.The terrain suddenly shifted, loading and loading before new territory appeared in front of them.It was her time to go.

She emerged from the hole with light, careful steps. Tentative and almost hesitant. She presses her paws to the smooth grass of the map beneath her and inhales to smell her goal. There's the rush of other bodies around her, clamoring for the same thing.

They all liked the way their bodies pumped with adrenaline, ready to retrieve what was rightfully theirs; the gift of Elisah, the gift of cheese. They crowd around her, without hesitation. They knew what to do in this new world. There was a diversity of mice against the crowd; mixes of colors and bodies of all shapes and sizes. Fat mice. Skinny mice. Pale mice. Brown. She herself was brown. Plain, ordinary. She herself, adorned no items, yet her violet eyes shone with a twinkle to them. Youth. Innocence. Transformice would be quick to rip that innocence from her.

The shaman.

The shaman was a beautiful thing. A creature of magic adorned with bright azure markings that emphasized their rank. Their power. There was a different one for each round, yet this one was notably large. Grey, ashen fur the color of a cloud pregnant with storm was what made him stand out from the rest. His pelt was elegantly groomed and his stark white muzzle and belly stood out against the rest of him. A pair of snug dark gunmetal-hued headphones rested on the crook of his neck and a sky-blue cap sat atop his head, put off ajar slightly by the cerulean feather that sat atop his head, signifying his place as shaman for that round. He was wonderful, yet and he gave off a casual and relaxed appearance.

Elisah had blessed Shamans to guide the mice to the hole. Magic thrummed through these shaman's veins; quivered underneath their skin. She recognized that the mice would need much leadership in their lives to survive the troubling world of Transformice.

Each mouse had the power to build planks at their fingertips; other shamans either lazed about or used their powers to bring anguish to the mice within the map. Each map was limited with a certain amount of time to gain cheese before the landscape warped. They knew what they were doing. It was clear from the moment when they summoned several planks and buildings with ease, building a steady path made of wood and magical nails towards the desired object. Within moments, Prismaz would be running back to her hole, limbs aching with exertion. She was new to this world; not as experienced as others. It was clear with her movements. She had yet to adjust to the working pace of others. Her little thighs quivered with the effort of running the distance to the hole. Far too slow. Everyone else was within the safe haven by then, and she was left alone with the Shaman, save for the exception of the few pros milling and playing about at their leisure, knowing full well that they were within short distance of the hole and could easily escape there should the shaman become impatient with their actions.

"Freeze her!" Came their offending cries. Prismaz felt her heart jump to her throat. Fearful eyes flickered to the shaman as they strolled forward with ease. Instead of encasing her with an inescapable frost as she would have expected, the blessed shaman instead sauntered over as slow as a fat cat and plopped himself down next to her now still form.

"Uh..." Her voice was slow and heavy with unease, her body tense with the anticipation of a punishment of some sort to come. Instead, the grey mouse gestured to the hole, filled with the wriggling bodies of other mice that had joyously completed their mission in attaining cheese.When she hesitated once more, the shaman summoned a rune; a purple arrow that hung above her desired destination, stark against the baby blue backdrop of the sky and pointing towards the hole with obvious intent.

"You'll let me go?" She asked hopefully, her fearful demeanor brightening as the several groans of others could be heard in the background. The Shaman nodded.

"You're wasting time!" There was a holler from one of the pros as they slipped into the cavity that served as refuge for the mice, and Prismaz was soon to follow afterwards, her heart soaring with joy and hopefulness, and her mind clouded with a hint of embarrassment. A shaman had shown her kindness. She wasn't sure she would ever get the opportunity again. She was just grateful, a bit guilty for wasting the guy's time. Perhaps she would be able to catch his name tag later. Make friends with him. She needed friends in this new world.

She slipped into the hole, but with the next round, the grey mouse was gone.

Number one; the first rule of living within transformice. Never take kindness for granted.