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paixaorpg2011-01-03 03:19 pm
flowersinhell.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2011-01-03 03:19 pm
Entry tags:
Making a home (Active/open)
Character(s):Duma/?
Content: In which the Angel finds earth, plants flowers, and makes himself a place in the Chapel of St Destino Hospital.
Setting: Joutenheim gate and St Destino Hospital
Time: Morning
Warnings: Emo!Angel is emo.
Duma had found old metal buckets in the cupboards at St Destino Hospital. They were rusting around the handle and seam, but they worked. He carried four of them out of Joutenheim gate, (after having attempted to board the train to Niflheim and been rebuffed for inappropriate attire) and after a brief stare-down with the guards, had filled the buckets with dirt from near the river. Duma knew this was not good earth, not rich soil, but he wasn't worried. He was sure he could make Urd's seeds grow.
Duma walked back, worried that if he flew the bucket handles, rusted and old, would break and he'd hurt someone underneath. He walked slowly, head down, ignoring curious stares.
Upon returning to the hospital, Duma went to where he had made his own little piece of quiet. The chapel was old and run down, but there was a skylight to put the plants under, and enough reminders of what he had been that he wanted to stay there. It would do. If Duma was going to stay in the city, then he was going to have to find a place with a courtyard, when his plants got bigger. Then he could have his own church.
Positioning the buckets under the skylight, Duma watered the soil and opened the packets of unfamiliar seeds. He pressed the first into the earth, in a ring inside the bucket.
"I cannot tell you how tired I am, of having you look at me like that."
The memory bit into him, and Duma felt his eyes wash with tears. He moved on to the second bucket, pressing the seeds, blood red this time, into the dirt.
"Are you weeping? It avails you little to weep."
And the third packet, the third bucket, his hands shook as he covered the seeds with soil.
"Three?"
And there, in a dusty chapel, in a run-down hospital, in a world he didn't understand; the angel knelt over three rusting buckets of dirt, and cried.
[ooc: edited for grammar fail]
Content: In which the Angel finds earth, plants flowers, and makes himself a place in the Chapel of St Destino Hospital.
Setting: Joutenheim gate and St Destino Hospital
Time: Morning
Warnings: Emo!Angel is emo.
Duma had found old metal buckets in the cupboards at St Destino Hospital. They were rusting around the handle and seam, but they worked. He carried four of them out of Joutenheim gate, (after having attempted to board the train to Niflheim and been rebuffed for inappropriate attire) and after a brief stare-down with the guards, had filled the buckets with dirt from near the river. Duma knew this was not good earth, not rich soil, but he wasn't worried. He was sure he could make Urd's seeds grow.
Duma walked back, worried that if he flew the bucket handles, rusted and old, would break and he'd hurt someone underneath. He walked slowly, head down, ignoring curious stares.
Upon returning to the hospital, Duma went to where he had made his own little piece of quiet. The chapel was old and run down, but there was a skylight to put the plants under, and enough reminders of what he had been that he wanted to stay there. It would do. If Duma was going to stay in the city, then he was going to have to find a place with a courtyard, when his plants got bigger. Then he could have his own church.
Positioning the buckets under the skylight, Duma watered the soil and opened the packets of unfamiliar seeds. He pressed the first into the earth, in a ring inside the bucket.
"I cannot tell you how tired I am, of having you look at me like that."
The memory bit into him, and Duma felt his eyes wash with tears. He moved on to the second bucket, pressing the seeds, blood red this time, into the dirt.
"Are you weeping? It avails you little to weep."
And the third packet, the third bucket, his hands shook as he covered the seeds with soil.
"Three?"
And there, in a dusty chapel, in a run-down hospital, in a world he didn't understand; the angel knelt over three rusting buckets of dirt, and cried.
[ooc: edited for grammar fail]