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-=Another evening and Hawke's outside in the cold. Once again, the stars are out and he's lighting a few candles to burn out in the snow. He steps back, watching quietly for a moment, murmuring a prayer in his own language before turning away. Past the candles are apples for the unicorns he hopes will show up later.=-
-=It's cloudy and rainy and miserable. At least right now there's nothing but a cold spit drizzling down. Hawke's face is extremely somber as he's outside with a cloak on in addition to the cloth. (Man's cold, today. He didn't sleep well.) And he's outside out in what looks like to be the middle of no where, standing before a tree that has things tied to it. With a silent step, he walks to the tree and places one hand on it, moving forward a moment later to press his forehead against it and wrap one arm around the trunk. In his other hand are two more rectangular plates with string on them.
Scrawled on those plates are two names. One "Bubbles," and the other "Rachel."
Hawke's clinging to that tree for a long time before he murmurs a prayer in his own language, then with a sniff goes to climb the tree and tie the plates to the tree's branches. Later he'll carve those names on the trunk of the tree in his own language. But today he'll sit up in the branches to watch the rain fall.=-
Scrawled on those plates are two names. One "Bubbles," and the other "Rachel."
Hawke's clinging to that tree for a long time before he murmurs a prayer in his own language, then with a sniff goes to climb the tree and tie the plates to the tree's branches. Later he'll carve those names on the trunk of the tree in his own language. But today he'll sit up in the branches to watch the rain fall.=-
-=Threes years in this city, and he still doesn't know how to make filters. That or he doesn't care to know.=-
Roy.
I want to help.
She is my sister.
Roy.
I want to help.
She is my sister.
-=The PCD kicks in with some static as it blurs the picture of a wall and the speakers pop before one can hear an anguished roar.
There are painful words, all in a language that isn't being translated by the PCDs and finally the device stops rocking, showing Hawke by the corner, rocking on his heels with his back to the PCD. He's sobbing in fits, trying to control himself but failing.=-
There are painful words, all in a language that isn't being translated by the PCDs and finally the device stops rocking, showing Hawke by the corner, rocking on his heels with his back to the PCD. He's sobbing in fits, trying to control himself but failing.=-
[accidental video]
Mar. 20th, 2010 08:35 pm-=The young man is seated on a roof, looking up at the moons overhead, studying their various phases. He appears to be lost in thought, a whole gamut of emotions passing over his face; from sadness to longing, despair and finally determination, he wipes his face with the back of one hand, sniffing softly.=-
Has anyone seen a man by the name of Edward? He is not Alphonse's brother.
-=pauses, biting his lower lip for a moment.=-
I am worried for him. I have not seen him in some time, and have noticed that someone who is not kind is here again.
-=pauses, biting his lower lip for a moment.=-
I am worried for him. I have not seen him in some time, and have noticed that someone who is not kind is here again.
