NO GOOD DEED | Open, hoarding

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    [fancypost bgcolor= COLOR; border: 1px solid white; color: COLOR; background:url(https://38.media.tumblr.com/01…n098kX5w1s2ms9do1_250.gif); height: 210px; width: 170px]
    [/fancypost][abbr=Cherry Jubilee Michaelson, 1 year old]♣[/abbr] [abbr=Teleportation, Shape Shifting, Invisibility, Scent Manipulation, Memory Manipulation, Eye Color Manipulation, Project/Manipulate Emotions, Flower Prints, Paw Pads Glow]♦[/abbr] [abbr=Red Fox, Small Dragon, Domestic Cat]♥[/abbr] [abbr=Very hard, attack in #F7BE81]♠[/abbr]

    		 [fancypost bgcolor= COLOR; border: 0px solid white; border-left: 1px solid white; color: white; overflow: auto; height: 250px; width: 300px; margin-left: 5px; font-family: times new roman; text-align: justify]Cherry Jubilee was no stranger to the concept of hoarding.




    In fact, back in the old school, she had quite the collection of junk and knick-knacks, all items which she found interesting or pretty to look out. Once the building burned down, it was easy to move past the greedy hoarding of items that cluttered up space and start fresh.




    However, that strange island in the sky did...something to her mind. It gave her vague memories of that collection of hers, and how happy the items made her feel to look at.




    Wouldn't it be fun to do that again?




    All day, Cherry could be seen walking around various parts of the hospital, grabbing various things that she deemed worthy before dragging them back to her room, nervously glancing at everyone she passed on the way back to her room, a few times even snapping at those who gave her weird looks.




    Don't they know it's a rare piece? Why, I've only ever seen a teddy like this one one other time in my life!




    By the end of the day, the vixen sat exhausted, yet satisfied, looking at the pile of stuff she had accumulated. Huffing a little bit (it was hard work, what with all the stair cases and stuff), she inspected her work. Three different stuffed animals, a snow globe, some pieces of clothing, shiny jewelry, you name it, she most likely had it. Heck, she'd even thrown in a flower crown or two she had made for good measure.




    Now the hard part was keeping her things safe. Why, she'd have to guard it. And so she sat, perched on top of the pile on a particularly soft sweater, staring at the door with such ferocity it would be a miracle if any trespassers didn't burst into flames just by her looking at them.
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    fancypost (c) Paige