Edel AU
AU stuffs
Character: Yuffie, Mentioned: Jack, Paul, Edgeworth
She hasn’t had a new playmate for a long time.
They stopped letting her have new ones after the last one broke, even though the last one wasn’t her fault. It made her sad, she liked having playmates. After the doors were locked, they were the only ones you could see the faces of, the only ones who were still totally real. She can remember all seventeen (eighteen eighteen there were eighteen nonodoesn’tcount hedoesn’tcount) easily, they are all perfect little picture book copies in her head. Pristine forever. She hadn’t liked all of them, (especially the little one with silver hair Jacky had been so mad at her for getting red all over her nice clothes) but the last two she’d had were very much fun in their own little ways.
Though the one’s hair had looked a lot prettier when their head had still been attached.
She doesn’t like some of the other people here, never never has and never will. And it will get worse if they keep taking her playmates. At least Ghost tells her first. Ghost likes to play with her…but he isn’t nice. Ghost never has been nice. Ghost is rotted rotted rotted and she can smell his soul stink from far far away. …Though he does call her Princess. Princess. And that she does like.
It might just be because of the little things she remembers like stars, twinkling in and out as days go by. She thinks she loves these fleeting moments, but can’t remember them long enough to know. There were days where she used to have pretty things. She knows that much. Pretty shiny things that she didn’t have to keep hidden under the bed and could take out to look at any time she chose.
They used to glow.
Some days she thinks everyone else is just a little sadder for not remembering pretty things like that. So she tries to tell them about the pretty glowing things that used to make her feel like a fairytale (fairytaleswithmonstersthatcoulddistroyplanets meteormeteormeteorJENOVA)…But they get mad.
Nobody likes to listen to fairytales anymore. Especially when they’re true.
She knows they are….even now. Even through the fog that seemed to cloud…everything. She knows. Knows it like she knows words that no one else can understand (LIARLIARLIAR YOU UNDERSTAND YOU UNDERSTAND LIAR LIAR LIAR MILEY IS A LIAR KEEPS SECRETS TOO WELL KEEPS THEM FROM PEOPLE WHO GAVE THEM TO KEEP) and when she screams them….
She thinks she feels a little bit like outside.
Character: Yuffie, Mentioned: Jack, Paul, Edgeworth
She hasn’t had a new playmate for a long time.
They stopped letting her have new ones after the last one broke, even though the last one wasn’t her fault. It made her sad, she liked having playmates. After the doors were locked, they were the only ones you could see the faces of, the only ones who were still totally real. She can remember all seventeen (eighteen eighteen there were eighteen nonodoesn’tcount hedoesn’tcount) easily, they are all perfect little picture book copies in her head. Pristine forever. She hadn’t liked all of them, (especially the little one with silver hair Jacky had been so mad at her for getting red all over her nice clothes) but the last two she’d had were very much fun in their own little ways.
Though the one’s hair had looked a lot prettier when their head had still been attached.
She doesn’t like some of the other people here, never never has and never will. And it will get worse if they keep taking her playmates. At least Ghost tells her first. Ghost likes to play with her…but he isn’t nice. Ghost never has been nice. Ghost is rotted rotted rotted and she can smell his soul stink from far far away. …Though he does call her Princess. Princess. And that she does like.
It might just be because of the little things she remembers like stars, twinkling in and out as days go by. She thinks she loves these fleeting moments, but can’t remember them long enough to know. There were days where she used to have pretty things. She knows that much. Pretty shiny things that she didn’t have to keep hidden under the bed and could take out to look at any time she chose.
They used to glow.
Some days she thinks everyone else is just a little sadder for not remembering pretty things like that. So she tries to tell them about the pretty glowing things that used to make her feel like a fairytale (fairytaleswithmonstersthatcoulddistroyplanets meteormeteormeteorJENOVA)…But they get mad.
Nobody likes to listen to fairytales anymore. Especially when they’re true.
She knows they are….even now. Even through the fog that seemed to cloud…everything. She knows. Knows it like she knows words that no one else can understand (LIARLIARLIAR YOU UNDERSTAND YOU UNDERSTAND LIAR LIAR LIAR MILEY IS A LIAR KEEPS SECRETS TOO WELL KEEPS THEM FROM PEOPLE WHO GAVE THEM TO KEEP) and when she screams them….
She thinks she feels a little bit like outside.