[ Soul Campaign ] Curiosities
Jun. 29th, 2010 09:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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cemetery_things+ Title: Curiosities
+ Characters: Rhode Kamelot
+ Rating: T
+ Word Count: 410
+ Author's Notes: A fic based in the roleplay![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
soul_campaign, a game based on the series Soul Eater. If you're interested, feel free to stop by and look at the various communities.
She sits in the middle of a graveyard of dismembered poppets, posed not entirely unlike a puppet with severed strings. Her eyes are glassy, expression blank, and she has not moved since the last of her broken toys hit the ground. It's difficult to see her breathing, so slow and slight is the rise and fall of her chest.
The clock in the kitchen ticks loudly in the silence, counting the slow descent of the sun toward the horizon as it has for hours.
Mukuro had gone out for some business or another before noon, and she had read a magazine on the couch until she began to feel restless. The network was dull, overdone, and she hadn't bothered picking it up before she started to wander from room to room. Nothing to do, at all, as always, and she had nearly decided to take a nap. Sitting on the edge of the bed, however, she found herself staring at the lamp on the bedside table. They had just replaced the one she'd accidentally broken with the communicator, and it seemed the first hadn't gone missing at all. The way the light fell on the shining surface, however, sparked a familiar curiosity.
All it took was the smallest of pushes. It fell, shattering when it slammed against the wall on the way down. The pieces were all over the floor and nightstand, sharp and dangerous.
Rhode stared at the mess for several long minutes, indifference stretching out her silence until she stood.
Several pieces of the sharp ceramic stuck into her feet, but Rhode didn't seem to notice. Her journey around the apartment was random, but each motion seemed almost methodical.
Broken. Shattered. Shards in her soles, spots of blood on the tiles and carpet where she walks--
And she doesn't feel a thing.
The dolls and plush animals are the last to go, limbs and heads torn asunder at the seams and weak spots. When they are all mutilated, destroyed beyond repair, her hands fall into her lap.
Red light from the sunset makes it seem as though the floor of the common room is awash with blood.
When it is nearly dark, and the door opens, she doesn't move. Only when her partner touches her does she blink, looking up as if she was just startled from a daydream.
"You're back!"
Rhode smiles, as if everything is just as it was when he left, and he has only been out for a short while.
"Did you bring any tarts?"
+ Characters: Rhode Kamelot
+ Rating: T
+ Word Count: 410
+ Author's Notes: A fic based in the roleplay
soul_campaign, a game based on the series Soul Eater. If you're interested, feel free to stop by and look at the various communities. She sits in the middle of a graveyard of dismembered poppets, posed not entirely unlike a puppet with severed strings. Her eyes are glassy, expression blank, and she has not moved since the last of her broken toys hit the ground. It's difficult to see her breathing, so slow and slight is the rise and fall of her chest.
The clock in the kitchen ticks loudly in the silence, counting the slow descent of the sun toward the horizon as it has for hours.
Mukuro had gone out for some business or another before noon, and she had read a magazine on the couch until she began to feel restless. The network was dull, overdone, and she hadn't bothered picking it up before she started to wander from room to room. Nothing to do, at all, as always, and she had nearly decided to take a nap. Sitting on the edge of the bed, however, she found herself staring at the lamp on the bedside table. They had just replaced the one she'd accidentally broken with the communicator, and it seemed the first hadn't gone missing at all. The way the light fell on the shining surface, however, sparked a familiar curiosity.
All it took was the smallest of pushes. It fell, shattering when it slammed against the wall on the way down. The pieces were all over the floor and nightstand, sharp and dangerous.
Rhode stared at the mess for several long minutes, indifference stretching out her silence until she stood.
Several pieces of the sharp ceramic stuck into her feet, but Rhode didn't seem to notice. Her journey around the apartment was random, but each motion seemed almost methodical.
Broken. Shattered. Shards in her soles, spots of blood on the tiles and carpet where she walks--
And she doesn't feel a thing.
The dolls and plush animals are the last to go, limbs and heads torn asunder at the seams and weak spots. When they are all mutilated, destroyed beyond repair, her hands fall into her lap.
Red light from the sunset makes it seem as though the floor of the common room is awash with blood.
When it is nearly dark, and the door opens, she doesn't move. Only when her partner touches her does she blink, looking up as if she was just startled from a daydream.
"You're back!"
Rhode smiles, as if everything is just as it was when he left, and he has only been out for a short while.
"Did you bring any tarts?"
