MsRoseRed

Hey everyone! MY good friend Bridget or , she's having a RP contest. Here's what she said: 


' I can't the only one who usually likes to plan roleplays right? Get the characters decided, what they may become in the future, etc? I spend days, weeks, planning things like that. 

It was a strangely bright time for Sam to feel a pang in his chest. Today was the day that was going to change apparently. Normally feelings like that came on rainy days where the winds were cold and a lack of warm light made everything around him seem monochromatic and lifeless. But with each step he took and the farther he walked away from helpless whimpers, the more his feet became lead. Sam had places to go, people to see; he didn’t have time to take up a box of quivering little animals. It would lead to a lot of work and care he didn’t have the money to invest in at this point in his life. His footsteps eventually stopped moving him forward, leaving him to stand less than fifty feet away from the quiet sounds that made his mind rethink his whole plan for the day. Thus after a moment of pause he went into that terrible habit of his… pacing.

His feet moved him into a constant circle, nearly bumping into the stream of people walking by. He counted his paces whilst his mind tried to make a choice that wasn’t just indifference. One, two three four… He was going to be late if he couldn’t just make a choice already! Five, six, seven, eight… Maybe he would just flip a coin on it. Heads for taking the box and tails for walking away.  Nine, ten…. Dammit he didn’t have a coin! Eenie-meenie-miney-mo…  Eleven, twelve… Well he was already late now, and those poor things don’t have any food. Thirteen… I mean there can’t be more than three of the little things. How hard could it be? Fourteen… If I don’t taken them, who will?

At fifteen he felt a groan ride up in his throat before he whipped around on his foot and plowed through the crowd. He didn’t care if people were shouting profanities at him or even going as far as to shove him back. He marched up to that box of kittens on the alleyway  only to find there were not three, but three times that. Nine little mewling, tumbling balls of fluff were in that box, and Sam’s heart fell into his stomach. With a sigh he gently grabbed the box, saying aloud to himself, “I made my choice. No going back.” So with that he turned and jogged towards his office, hoping and praying people would take the kittens… And that maybe they would be the perfect excuse for being less than timely. '

Contact her if you wanna give it a shot!