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 Shepard the Escape Artist {/semi-open}

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Queen of Shotas

Posts : 1366
Beata Bucks : 4240
Join date : 2013-03-14
Age : 18
Location : 'murica -- 我在你的母亲 ;D

PostSubject: Shepard the Escape Artist {/semi-open}   Sat Apr 01, 2017 7:57 pm

Heavy curtains that hung in the nursery failed to shield a child to a small sliver of the noon time sunlight. It was cast over the crib in which the boy laid. His blond lashes fluttered open after a short lived attempt to sleep. A noise maker was placed right next to his crib on top of the dresser. The noise of crickets caught his attention, and the small boy lifted his head from the ray of light. Shepard's face was impassive, blue eyes staring at the noise maker and mouth parted in a slight 'o'.

A red beanie hat lay just above the beam of light--having fallen off of his head as he had tried to sleep. The article of clothing held no interest to him, although it did match his red pants. Aunt Aleta had dressed him that day, red sweat pants, a white elbow padded shirt that said 'Rad like dad' and matching white treaded socks. Of course, he was too young to truly appreciate the aesthetic that was his outfit. But he was old enough to appreciate the noise maker.

As if he was colored curious, the boy scooted over to the edge of the crib then proceeded to use the bars to pull himself up right. With as much effort as he could muster, Shepard leaned over to touch the noise maker, only to miss by a mere few inches. Blue eyes narrowed, and tongue poked out in the corner of his mouth. Learning to take a step like all the adults, Shepard presses a foot to one of the side bars. Tiny treaded socks allowed him to push himself just a bit higher and a mere breath away from the noise maker.

In a moment, the scale tipped, and the little boy found himself over the side of the crib and into a pile of clothes inside a basket. Basket ex machina. Shepard lay in the pile of soft clothes for a long moment, opting not to cry. Rather, he pushed himself out of the basket by tipping it over. Clothes pour over him like a soft avalanche, and being a survivor, Shepard pulled himself out. An amused look had spilled over his face, a shit eating grin to whoever had decided to do laundry that day. Of course, he had no idea what that was. But! He did escape the crib.

The shouts of children coming from the other room, paired with the sound of musicTHE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC enticed the boy to scoot his way to the door. A slight crack to the door was enough for the boy to push it open. From there, Shepard rested his head on the floor and began to roll into the main room. The sound of blabbering followed him as the boy began to explore the world that was the playroom. It didn't seem the older kids paid him any mind.

All the way across the room from the door to the nursery, Shepard finally sat up. His head moved in a circle--dizzy from the trip across. Even with his dizzy vision, he was able to spot a group of colorful objects on the table across from him. Curiosity killed the cat, and the boy made his way over, opting to scoot for the short distance.

These color sticks smelled weird, and the older kids were smearing them all over. Didn't they know that food sized things were for eating? With one hand balancing himself of the table, and the other with a blue crayon posed for tasting.

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