Entry tags:
Angel | Heart Game (pt 2)
It’s strange, isn’t it? You have fallen asleep, and yet your consciousness is awake. You’re simply floating, waiting to remember what it’s like to exist. However, as you wait, a growing fear clutches at your chest. What if you don’t remember? What if you will always be empty? What if you never find what it is that you are looking for? What if you die? W̛̮̩̰̫̝̫̱h̰a̪̦͖t̲̘̘̺̀ ͉̭̬͎̪̹͘i̺͍̭͙̹̪f̱̥̻͠ ͝t̼̘̬h̶̫̰̮̦͓̖̣e̳̖͔̜̮͢y͇̻͡ ̙̹͎̗͉͍̬d҉͓̮͓͉i̢e?̺̥͎̖̬̹͞ ͇̻W̺̠̫̤̖͈͉h͇͖̣ͅa̮͍t̛ ̛̙̰̻i͚̖f̡͓ y̴͍̥o̳̜͔͈u̴̥̻ w̰͍͕̥͢i̶̻̫l̬̥̖l͔͙ ̱̻͘ne͕̹͕͕̞̹v͢e̻̪̪͎͈͚͕ṛ̛ ̧̫̹b̘e̖̖̰̣ͅc̢͍om̨͍̘̻̫e̺̘͎͓̮ ̟͉͞w͏̟̖̠̩̜̟h̴̼͈̭̪o̸̹̬̣̳͉̠ ̼̠̯̖̫̜́t̫̘͠h͇̙ͅe̱͡y̭̥̱ͅ ͕̼̭̥̟͎w̜̖̞̲ͅḁ̩͙͚̤̟n̲̳̠̠t̛̲͔̲̜͔ ̟͍̼͖̼ͅy͎͇̘̲o̹̞̜u̻̫ ͙͓͓̲͈ͅț̷͔͎̩o̸̝̝̙͉ ̜͇͓̗̣̦͠b̰̠͡ḛ̛?̢̻̗̹̬͖͇̮ ̖̺̦̻͕̬͔W̨̺̝̰̝̲h͈̥̖̦͖a̴͓̼t ̺̤̪̻͔̯͞w̵i̮͕͜l̤̕l̞ ͞yo̴̯̝͔̜̝͍u̹͕̭̗͚ͅ ̸̟d̲̹̣͇͍̞o̶̼͍̠̦̩?̀Wh̼o ̮̼̱a̟̼r̫͎̘e͟ ͓̪̠͟y̷̫̲̖̱͕̤o̤̪̲̤̪̟͘u͏͈̞?̛͔͚͖̟͉ ̰͓͔W̜̯̗̻̼̥̦h̳̲a͏̘̗̜t̵̬̖̥̠̺͕̹ ̼̰̞͇̯͙̹c̛̝̬̙̱͖ͅa̩͟n͈͙ ̺y̞̰̳̹͈̙ͅo̭͈̭̥̱̱͜u̘̲̦͢ ̫̜ḍ̺͉̳̠̻̜͢o̢̦?̻̞̗̰̩͍͜ ̧͔͈͈͈̲̰͕̣̙͇
Ẁ͖̰͚̙̣̯͉̙̕h̺̻͕͕͈̥͖͜ͅa̟̮͕̬͞t̙̮͔̙̙̞̯ ̶̧̧͇̫̫͈͉̤i̯̫̕f̮̥̲͇ ̛̯͈̞̦̀͝y̫̩͉͈͙̻o͕͎͎̱̤̖ͅͅu̶̞͓̪͔͉̕͜ ̵̖͖͙̣̭̳f̗̪̜͎͎͇̩̟͜ͅa̲͔̘̮í̛̪͈͇̻͍̹̯̭l̗̖̝̪͞?̶̥͚͙̭̫̩̙͙̱͟ Ẁ͖̰͚̙̣̯͉̙̕h̺̻͕͕͈̥͖͜ͅa̟̮͕̬͞t̙̮͔̙̙̞̯ ̶̧̧͇̫̫͈͉̤i̯̫̕f̮̥̲͇ ̛̯͈̞̦̀͝y̫̩͉͈͙̻o͕͎͎̱̤̖ͅͅu̶̞͓̪͔͉̕͜ ̵̖͖͙̣̭̳f̗̪̜͎͎͇̩̟͜ͅa̲͔̘̮í̛̪͈͇̻͍̹̯̭l̗̖̝̪͞?̶̥͚͙̭̫̩̙͙̱͟ Ẁ͖̰͚̙̣̯͉̙̕h̺̻͕͕͈̥͖͜ͅa̟̮͕̬͞t̙̮͔̙̙̞̯ ̶̧̧͇̫̫͈͉̤i̯̫̕f̮̥̲͇ ̛̯͈̞̦̀͝y̫̩͉͈͙̻o͕͎͎̱̤̖ͅͅu̶̞͓̪͔͉̕͜ ̵̖͖͙̣̭̳f̗̪̜͎͎͇̩̟͜ͅa̲͔̘̮í̛̪͈͇̻͍̹̯̭l̗̖̝̪͞?̶̥͚͙̭̫̩̙͙̱͟
W̷̴̶̖͔͈̝̦̺̻̥̼̮̝̺̝̥͖̣͔̼͜͡h̖͉̘͉͉̖̟͚̜̬̫͙̼͖͉̯̤̦͕͠a̺͎̺̘͟͡t̶̸̺͙̰͙̻̗͔̹͍̯͚͠ͅ ̡͓͔̮̘͈̝̻͈̳͍͉̹̗͘͟͠í̬̟͎̻̬͓̦̪̘͟͜f̶̴̯͇̳͉̣͓͉͇̲̠͉̠͚̞͝ ̡͎͎̤͓͔͚̥̕͞y̴̵̢̧̨̱̭̯̤̘̞̩̻̲͙͔͞█̵̨̛̦͉̺̝͔͇͢͠ ̰͓̳͝͡█̴͉͈̝̲̝͕͖͙͔͙̰́́ͅ ̡̖̙̘̪̗̞̪͘͞█̴̶̵̛̩͕͚̣̥̺͡ ̶̢̢̛͙̟̮̯̥̹͎̼͔̻ͅ█̴̧̧͙͎̖̘̥̠̪͉̫͍̯̻̥̟͔̥͇̙ ̛̯͓̣͎̤̟̟̀█̴̵̧̣̮͓̻͍͔̱̘̣̜̞͙̰̟̬̠̩̀͠ͅ ̴̵̨͉̻͇̮̣̼͜͟█̵͉͔̝̺̗͔̯͓̪́ ̴̨͇̱̹̳͍͙̝͟█̢̙͕̞̭͇̣̼͔͟ ̡͕̼͙͙̗̥̱̭̪͙̥̹̮̱̬̥̪̗̹█̴̶̴̫̱̞͟ͅ ̷̧̡̻̭͉͖̻̲̰̦̮͓̜̹̩͎█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜ ̷̴̶̡̛̘̲̤͈̦̣̹̻█̸́͜҉̘̫̝͈̻̳͈̙̪͚̬̥̗̥̺̼̠ ̴̛͇͙̥̫̪̘̩̫͉̙́͜͠█̷̴̛̥̫̳̣͈̭͈̗̗̪̯̬̪̣̻̮̗͘͞ͅ ͏̷̜͇͉͕̯̫͎█͢͏̻͍̦̙̭̭̣̥͓͔
̴̵̨͉̻͇̮̣̼͜͟█̵͉͔̝̺̗͔̯͓̪́ ̴̨͇̱̹̳͍͙̝͟█̢̙͕̞̭͇̣̼͔͟ ̡͕̼͙͙̗̥̱̭̪͙̥̹̮̱̬̥̪̗̹█̴̶̴̫̱̞͟ͅ ̷̧̡̻̭͉͖̻̲̰̦̮͓̜̹̩͎█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜ ̷̴̶̡̛̘̲̤͈̦̣̹̻█̸́͜҉̘̫̝͈̻̳͈̙̪͚̬̥̗̥̺̼̠ ̴̛͇͙̥̫̪̘̩̫͉̙́͜͠█̷̴̛̥̫̳̣͈̭͈̗̗̪̯̬̪̣̻̮̗͘͞ͅ ͏̷̜͇͉͕̯̫͎█͢͏̻͍̦̙̭̭̣̥͓͔
█̴̶̴̫̱̞͟ͅ ̷̧̡̻̭͉͖̻̲̰̦̮͓̜̹̩͎█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜ ̷̴̶̡̛̘̲̤͈̦̣̹̻█̸́͜҉̘̫̝͈̻̳͈̙̪͚̬̥̗̥̺̼̠
█̶̡̢̗͖͎̘̙͍̜͖̩͉̥̩̞̭̀͜
. . . ♫ . . .
You aren’t sure, but you swear that you just heard someone singing . . . the words are incomprehensible, but it makes you feel something familiar . . . a feeling that makes you feel like you’ll find what you’re looking for . . . and that everything will be alright in the end . . .
What is that feeling?
. . .
HUUUH?!
You don’t know?? Wowee . . . well, don’t worry! Since we're friends, I’ll tell you!
It’s hope, of course! !

no subject
[ Going over to his debris pile and. Start gadgeteering together little figures of all current FiN members, putting them on the fireplace as he goes. ALSO ONE FOR ANGEL. ]
no subject
no subject
[ Looking for something to write with. ]
no subject
no subject
[ Taking the coal to draw a frame on the wall around the figures, then write next to. ]
"Family is what you make of it. So by that train of thought, if you want one, you can make your own. "
... Yeah, that's more or less how it goes.
no subject
The room feels a little less cold.]
no subject
[ APPLY WIT... 3! ]
no subject
no subject
[ Using the edge of his cape to start dusting gosh. ]
no subject
no subject
Angeellll, how do I make picture-you smile?
no subject
You can see Angel getting her hair brushed by someone that looks similar to her which you can infer to be her mom. Angel herself is very small, maybe no more than 4 or 5 at most.
Though her mom looks tired, her expression is at least gentle enough, and Angel seems to be quite happy about it. It is a scene that happens several times over and each time, Angel seems pleased to have her hair brushed so nicely. Even her mother eventually comments with:
"You do have lovely hair, don't you?"
But at some point, a man with blonde hair and golden eyes barges in (most definitely the father), looking at the scene with a disgusted face. "So what the servant said was true, after all."
He comes right up without a word and drags Angel by the hair away from the mother. Unfortunately for Angel, her mom doesn't really do anything about it. She just looks away with a resigned face. Pulling out a knife he had at his side, he cuts a good length off despite the cries coming from the child.
"I will make sure that you will be █████████. It is in your name, and it is in your blood so you will do best not to forget it. Understand? You must not gain any sort of affection. There is no point in enjoying anything. You must certainly not gain hope." He drops the length of hair in his hand on the floor. "It will be worse for you if you do."
And the memory fades.]
no subject
Aah... so it was that kind of shitty situation.
no subject
no subject
[ Pushing himself out of the chair and picking up the brush, tossing it between his hands for a moment before going to the fireplace and trying to get this thing lit. Apply wit... 10! ]
no subject
Staring at it, you can see that someone has intentionally frozen this fireplace for some reason but it's not a natural thing at all.
A thought comes into your mind: It is scary to think about this room.]
no subject
But being scared of it means it has power over you, so it's probably better to face it head on, right? And you've got all of us backing you up.
... I really hope someone's listening to my cool speeches, jeez.
[ Gonna get on breaking the ice and lighting the fire. ]
no subject
You manage to light up the fire in the fireplace. The ice is gone and the room is even warmer.
The room is clean, the fire is lit, and though the portrait hasn't changed, the little figurines that Sho has made seem to be smiling a little bit bigger.
Or maybe that's the trick of the light.]
no subject
[ Looking for a door. ]
no subject