Post by aya on Feb 24, 2011 21:00:46 GMT -5
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| [atrb=style, height: 326px; padding: 0px 78px 0px 103px] Ruins were nothing more them the ghostly remnants of the once proud cities and denizens that had once roamed the land, but the even the beautiful ruins were eroded by weather and time itself; who stood back and laughed in an twisted fashion as it brought the tall and mighty down to the ground, turned the sharpest blade into a rusted blade and created divides that sometimes could never be cleared. The wasteland of memories and waste had become a breeding ground for monsters and bandits who wished to rob wanders, but Miumi had made into nothing more them a ground of memories and treasures but he often would call it a playground; he was reckless but so childish and chose to live in the past with his memories. Once upon a time a small sector of Midgar within the slums had been his home, but it hadn’t be a welcoming one as he often slept in a card-board box or was huddled in the corners of alleys in attempts to stay warm and hide from the weather; it was until Agana came and gave him a reason to move on, showed him he wasn’t a monster and made him a human once more. He was walking down a narrow alleyway which stood between two heavily eroded walls which crumbled and crackled when Miumi’s hands just gingerly rested upon them; it was like the pillars of strength that held up the faith of some. He said nothing as he looked at a small corner where had once resided; the ghostly memory of the emptiness and the feeling as if they’re were simply holes in his heart but it kept beating washed over him like the ocean. He would hold his hand over the spot expecting it to resonate a warmth of some sorts; yet all it felt was cold and rugged from the erosion of rain. He would push off the ground and leap down to the small lowered platform from where the city street had caved in. He moved down it softly twisting and turning in his own oblvious world before he would take a seat on the ground and look around; this had once been a place he had called home. He would relax and fiddle with his scythe idly wondering if something interesting would happen. ”…. I wonder if people ever miss what is gone?”. … |
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