Just a random tidbit...
Okay, so I was bored during my free, so I wrote this little piece of "Lian's Depression" for the aftermath of her father dying and all of that. All things considered, Mickey, I think that we should each get a chapter describing Lian's...emotional instability? I don't know, but this just kind of...came to me and I actually LIKED it for once. Tell me what you think. ^_^
---
Lian liked running. It was something that helped her think, something to help her focus.
Lian liked running alone. Not always, but company often broke her concentration.
Lian liked running alone in the rain. Sometimes because it was refreshing, other times because it masked her tears.
Lian was running alone in the rain, and this time it wasn’t about wanting to be refreshed.
Her father used to tell her that she was a compulsive runner, that sometimes when everything blew up in her face she’d just take off running and not come back until she was half dead (but undeniably calmer than when she’d left).
Her father used to tell her a lot of things. Used to being the operative term.
She’d slipped out of the Tower at the crack of dawn, the little sunlight available to her quickly obscured by thick, stormy clouds. Mar’i would know where she was. She’d been planning on coming.
But Lian wanted to deal with this alone.
She’d been spending a lot of time alone, come to think of it. She couldn’t remember the last time she turned down three consecutive requests to hang out at the beach house with Mar’i, Iris, and Donna.
---
And that's it. But I like it thusfar. Give it a while. I'll think it sucks along with all the other stuff I've written. =]
---
Lian liked running. It was something that helped her think, something to help her focus.
Lian liked running alone. Not always, but company often broke her concentration.
Lian liked running alone in the rain. Sometimes because it was refreshing, other times because it masked her tears.
Lian was running alone in the rain, and this time it wasn’t about wanting to be refreshed.
Her father used to tell her that she was a compulsive runner, that sometimes when everything blew up in her face she’d just take off running and not come back until she was half dead (but undeniably calmer than when she’d left).
Her father used to tell her a lot of things. Used to being the operative term.
She’d slipped out of the Tower at the crack of dawn, the little sunlight available to her quickly obscured by thick, stormy clouds. Mar’i would know where she was. She’d been planning on coming.
But Lian wanted to deal with this alone.
She’d been spending a lot of time alone, come to think of it. She couldn’t remember the last time she turned down three consecutive requests to hang out at the beach house with Mar’i, Iris, and Donna.
---
And that's it. But I like it thusfar. Give it a while. I'll think it sucks along with all the other stuff I've written. =]