A Lion in the Concrete Jungle
Characters: Simba and anyone crazy enough to get close to a lion.
Time: Late morning/early afternoon
Location: The shiny bean of summoning!
Content: Holy shit there's a lion! Get in the car! (Simba arrives in Chicago.)
Format: If you can't tell by now, I really like prose.
Warnings: Unless you're a bug, none.
Simba stretched and yawned before opening his eyes and realizing that he wasn’t in the jungle anymore. Instead, he found himself under a shiny…thing, and it was pretty cold. He shivered, being used to the heat and humidity of the jungle where he had spent the past few years of his life.
“Timon? Pumbaa?” Simba looked around the immediate area, not seeing any sign of either the meerkat or the warthog. Their scents were also nowhere to be found. Instead, his nostrils were filled with a cloudy, dirty smell, and he didn’t like it. He also didn’t like the new scenery. There was this light-colored rock everywhere, with no trees, no…green. Simba did manage to spot a few pathetic-looking trees, but their leaves were gone, and he suspected that they were dead.
The lion looked around and wandered around the shiny thing he had awoken under. He then sat on his haunches, wondering where he was, how he got there, and where his friends were. If he had found himself in just another part of the jungle, it would be different. He’d just say ‘Hakuna Matata’ and look for his way back, but it didn’t look like he had such a nice option.
Well, in situations like this, first thing is first. Look for a source of water. Simba got up to do just that, smelling a hint of water on the air and heading towards it. He hoped that the water was cleaner than the disgusting air, but he didn’t put those hopes too high. The lion trudged through the…place. He didn’t know what to call it. Instead of trees, there were these tall things with shiny sides where he could see his reflection, as if someone had somehow made water solid and stuck it on the sides of the…things. Everywhere he looked; it was that stuff, the rock, some sort of black rock with colored stripes on it, and more tiny trees. He could only hope that he could get out of this place and find his friends back home in the jungle.
Time: Late morning/early afternoon
Location: The shiny bean of summoning!
Content: Holy shit there's a lion! Get in the car! (Simba arrives in Chicago.)
Format: If you can't tell by now, I really like prose.
Warnings: Unless you're a bug, none.
Simba stretched and yawned before opening his eyes and realizing that he wasn’t in the jungle anymore. Instead, he found himself under a shiny…thing, and it was pretty cold. He shivered, being used to the heat and humidity of the jungle where he had spent the past few years of his life.
“Timon? Pumbaa?” Simba looked around the immediate area, not seeing any sign of either the meerkat or the warthog. Their scents were also nowhere to be found. Instead, his nostrils were filled with a cloudy, dirty smell, and he didn’t like it. He also didn’t like the new scenery. There was this light-colored rock everywhere, with no trees, no…green. Simba did manage to spot a few pathetic-looking trees, but their leaves were gone, and he suspected that they were dead.
The lion looked around and wandered around the shiny thing he had awoken under. He then sat on his haunches, wondering where he was, how he got there, and where his friends were. If he had found himself in just another part of the jungle, it would be different. He’d just say ‘Hakuna Matata’ and look for his way back, but it didn’t look like he had such a nice option.
Well, in situations like this, first thing is first. Look for a source of water. Simba got up to do just that, smelling a hint of water on the air and heading towards it. He hoped that the water was cleaner than the disgusting air, but he didn’t put those hopes too high. The lion trudged through the…place. He didn’t know what to call it. Instead of trees, there were these tall things with shiny sides where he could see his reflection, as if someone had somehow made water solid and stuck it on the sides of the…things. Everywhere he looked; it was that stuff, the rock, some sort of black rock with colored stripes on it, and more tiny trees. He could only hope that he could get out of this place and find his friends back home in the jungle.