Never to Doubt the Knowledgeheavenly_homeJune 22 2010, 18:36:22 UTC
Kite, Ys, know.
In the beginning, there was a garden called the Heart of a Man that knew no boundary in the scope of its extension. The plants of this garden grew so quickly and so well that they reach the dome of the sky, high enough to brush the sun. Even as heat scorched the leaves the garden still grew, searching for what it did not know. Soon the garden had grown so wild and tangled the plants chocked themselves to withering. Blackened by death, the garden crumbled into dust; a desert took its place.
Ever do they say that the Heart of a Man is barren, though one amongst us knows differently. One flower survived, he will say. There is still life in the garden.
Hope is the name of this flower, love and friendship its soil. Nurture this Hope and soon the garden will bloom again.
It was the real him; he needs help. I know he doesn’t really mean it, though he thinks he does. I wish he’d let us help him.
In His Mind, A Wicked Wingheavenly_homeJuly 6 2010, 04:57:35 UTC
Ys, Fuu, angel
In his dream, when he daydreams - which he does rarely, almost never- Fuu sprouts one white wing from her back, a true angle wing half hidden by the long fall of her curling blond hair. He stands before her, unmoving, and her sword, glittering with crystals shaped like light, like hope, is poised just above his heart. One smooth thrust through his chest and he would be...
She is crying, frozen in time like a statue of the ages, sorrowful but willing. He reaches out, touches his end, and finds it warm and giving- her arm beneath his fingertips.
Fuu has killed, has been claimed Death’s Bringer, the Angel of Death by another, tricked into the role by a child he could have felt a kinship with (if he could feel at all).
Dreams can become reality, he knows; all his dreams are real, nightmares in the dark of his mind. This end he can long for, could thank her for.
or Ys+Kite "know"
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In the beginning, there was a garden called the Heart of a Man that knew no boundary in the scope of its extension. The plants of this garden grew so quickly and so well that they reach the dome of the sky, high enough to brush the sun. Even as heat scorched the leaves the garden still grew, searching for what it did not know. Soon the garden had grown so wild and tangled the plants chocked themselves to withering. Blackened by death, the garden crumbled into dust; a desert took its place.
Ever do they say that the Heart of a Man is barren, though one amongst us knows differently. One flower survived, he will say. There is still life in the garden.
Hope is the name of this flower, love and friendship its soil. Nurture this Hope and soon the garden will bloom again.
It was the real him; he needs help. I know he doesn’t really mean it, though he thinks he does. I wish he’d let us help him.
Reply
/just. saves forever.
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In his dream, when he daydreams - which he does rarely, almost never- Fuu sprouts one white wing from her back, a true angle wing half hidden by the long fall of her curling blond hair. He stands before her, unmoving, and her sword, glittering with crystals shaped like light, like hope, is poised just above his heart. One smooth thrust through his chest and he would be...
She is crying, frozen in time like a statue of the ages, sorrowful but willing. He reaches out, touches his end, and finds it warm and giving- her arm beneath his fingertips.
Fuu has killed, has been claimed Death’s Bringer, the Angel of Death by another, tricked into the role by a child he could have felt a kinship with (if he could feel at all).
Dreams can become reality, he knows; all his dreams are real, nightmares in the dark of his mind. This end he can long for, could thank her for.
Will you be my angel, Fuu?
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ertzuiop
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...
;-;
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