[kind of open]
Amidst the pale-blue of winter dawn, I awaken for what feels like the first time. It is a strange feeling. The old streets of a newborn city stretch out around me, engulfing the world in a veil of pale colors. It is a lonely place. Hazy shadows pour out of the black windows like tears of a lost child who only wishes to not be forgotten. How did I end up here? Where was I going in the first place that this place became my world, even if for a short time? Was it the final goal in an important mission or merely an attempt to prove my own existence? Does it even matter?
This morning feels just like the one when I first realized that I live.
Black armored boots hit the pale ground softly, leaving neither sound nor trace behind them. As Aether walks down the road consumed by the early morning, he feels almost like a ghost. His eyes are lost behind the bangs of bluish-white, almost the same color as the pale sky, and his armored form looks like an angular shadow. He makes several steps forward, then stops and leans back, letting his gaze touch the sky.
Back then... On that morning just like this one, I realized the world is a very bleak place. For every bright color of happiness, there is one of poison. For every bleak one of serenity, there is one of despair. Smiles hide a sparkle of sadness in the corner of one's eye, and the back of the person who feels incredibly strong, is so pitifully small and weak. This is the kind of world I found myself living in. There is no color of happiness in this world that has no hue of sadness to it.
It is that hue, that second shadow... That is what I would accept as a reason for my existence.
A soft, almost inaudible, sigh escapes his lips and he steps forward, making another silent step on the fog-covered walkway. Another step follows and, slowly, he turns to another street and continues walking.
It is just another nostalgic morning. Just another small journey.
(( I, um, have no idea where I'm going with this. It's just an attempt to get the character's voice back, since my roleplaying muse completely shriveled up and died, so I have problems writing. I assume he's somewhere in Clockwise, since Aether barely left it lately. In either case, if someone wants to tag to this post and run a thread, they're free to do so. ))
This morning feels just like the one when I first realized that I live.
Black armored boots hit the pale ground softly, leaving neither sound nor trace behind them. As Aether walks down the road consumed by the early morning, he feels almost like a ghost. His eyes are lost behind the bangs of bluish-white, almost the same color as the pale sky, and his armored form looks like an angular shadow. He makes several steps forward, then stops and leans back, letting his gaze touch the sky.
Back then... On that morning just like this one, I realized the world is a very bleak place. For every bright color of happiness, there is one of poison. For every bleak one of serenity, there is one of despair. Smiles hide a sparkle of sadness in the corner of one's eye, and the back of the person who feels incredibly strong, is so pitifully small and weak. This is the kind of world I found myself living in. There is no color of happiness in this world that has no hue of sadness to it.
It is that hue, that second shadow... That is what I would accept as a reason for my existence.
A soft, almost inaudible, sigh escapes his lips and he steps forward, making another silent step on the fog-covered walkway. Another step follows and, slowly, he turns to another street and continues walking.
It is just another nostalgic morning. Just another small journey.
(( I, um, have no idea where I'm going with this. It's just an attempt to get the character's voice back, since my roleplaying muse completely shriveled up and died, so I have problems writing. I assume he's somewhere in Clockwise, since Aether barely left it lately. In either case, if someone wants to tag to this post and run a thread, they're free to do so. ))