Transformice - FROMAGE

In the early hours of dawn, the world of Transformice begins. Work came in the form of energetic mice, ready to harvest cheese for food as they slithered in between maps and the like with renewed energy for the day.

It was on that day that Prismaz joined one of the vanilla rooms. Her body was still riddled with sleep and anxiety, and the whole ordeal from yesterday did not help, but she felt slightly better. There was no lightheadedness, no nausea.

The room that the cheese hole had spawned into was that of a strange one. The ground was made of a flexible, purple rubber. The other mice, far more experienced than her and knowing what to do, leapt onto the material without hesitation. Instantly, they bounced up without effort, bodies flinging through the air and to the mouse hole suspended above ground.

Prismaz's first, shaky steps onto the rubber were tentative and slow. There wasn't much motion at first, but after some experimentive hopping, her body finally sprung up. Not so high, though, but only enough to feel the ruffle of air through her fur.

It was such a wild, joyous feeling that she decided to keep bouncing. She felt so free, as if there was nothing holding her down. For a moment, Prismaz imagined she was a bird, too far gone to notice the timer atop the platform counting down.

She was broken from her fantasy by a rude shout.

"Hurry the fuck up!"

Startled by the unkind awakening, Prismaz faltered on her way back towards the ground, landing haphazardly on her head.

There was a chorus of guffaw from the remaining mice in the map.

Heat flushed her face. Embarrassment and rage curling around her heart, grip tight.

After bouncing up to meet the cheese midway, she rushed into the home without another word.

-

Whatever map she expected to pop up did not come. What did come, however, was utterly beyond her control.

She did not spawn into a vanilla room, that much was apparent. In fact, she did not know where she spawned in the first place.

The sky was dark, addled with stars. The grass was soft and cool beneath her feet. Welcoming. But she saw no cheese.

Instead, she saw hundreds of naked mice, all clumped together before her. Almost all had brown fur, and some had the luxury of being clothed with a few items; scarfs and glasses, all low-priced items from the shop.

Before them, a hill sloped upwards. A cloaked figure stood, shrouded in a black hood and his long, lanky figure highlighted by the moon.

There were confused cries from the crowd, calls of alarm and chattering as a ball of nervousness hung over the gathering.

The figure raised his hands, ordering silence.

"Where the hell are we? Get me out of here!" Cane the particular cry of one mouse.

Other mice, less concerned and far more curious, gazed around. They could spot no timer, or anything to indicate what their purpose here was.

"Is this a new event map or something? What the hell do we do here?"

"Silence!" The gangly figure called, and Prismaz was instantly surprised by his baritone voice, which sounded pleasantly sonorous. The air seemed to shimmer and quake with unknown power, the effect of his words soothing to them. It was strange... his presence seemed invasive, unnatural. An unwelcome cold tightened it's grip around her nerves, forcing her into complacency. The crowd instantly silenced.