Midwinter Night's Dream {Edna x George}
Feb 4, 2010 1:05:31 GMT -5
Post by gracey on Feb 4, 2010 1:05:31 GMT -5
Valentine's Day. A day or hearts, romance, and anything red and pink. It was, however, also one of the most depressing days of the year. For most, their reasoning was that they had no one to cuddle and fawn over during this day. They were alone, hopeless in something as complicated as love.
How alone he felt, yet it was not for the same reason as others around him. He had someone that he shared his afterlife with. He was so fond of her. The growing girl was so very perfect in every way to him. He remembered how even after they both were dead, she enjoyed celebrating Valentine's Day around the mansion. She and Aunt Victoria reveled in dolling up the place, trying to brighten it up for the 14th. Dear Emily. Dear, sweet Emily.
She was not here.
The very idea was enough to make his lifeless heart break. How he missed the haunting beat of hers. How he missed everything about her. For most of his stay here thus far, George was actually rather curious about this place. None too much bothered him... until he started noticing decorations being put up and the happy couple wandering the grounds arm in arm. The reality hit him like a ton of bricks. None of his friends and family were here. He was all alone. No Mallow Men, no Aunt Victoria, no friends, no other family...
No Emily. For God's sake, there was even no Emily.
The man looked like the epitome of those lost, longing souls that one hears about in movies and literature. He walked listlessly throughout the EPCOT park. His bright blue eyes looked sadder than they normally did and his face was stuck in a mindless, melancholy frown. He trudged along with a slight slouch, but his feet still appeared to not touch the ground, still hovering the tiniest millimeter above the pavement. His halo of blue and white reflected his current disposition, a little brighter than usual in the dying light of an oncoming night. The tentacles of phenomena swirled lazily around him, dragging behind him until they went too far away and disappeared all together.
Everything reminds him of her. Even when it was, say, just a building in the hub area of the Showcase, his thoughts went to her. The Master's frown deepened when he spotted the garden contained between the two shops that made up the entrance to this half of the park. He made his way over to the perfectly choreographed collection of flowers. Cerulean eyes saddened more as he focused on a specific cluster of blossoms. They were blue. They looked very similar to the ones that were part of her bouquet and veil. Master Gracey bent down to pick one up. His ectoplasm whirled a little faster around his hand as he became tangible. He delicately plucked the flower and straightened his posture once more. He twirled the small bloom and a sigh echoed from his thin lips. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. He could not smell it. He could barely even feel it in his grasp. Still, he seemed utterly infatuated with the tiny plant. As far as he was concerned, it was the closest thing he had to his young wife. Nothing would get between him and i---
The Master perked when he heard something zip through the air. His eyes popping open wide, he did not even flinch as he heard the noise come painfully close to him. Immediately, he looked down. The first thing he saw was a hole piercing straight through his chest, right where his heart used to be. It did not look like an entrance wound, but an exit wound. Naturally, he felt no pain or fear at the sight, just confusion. What in the world caused that? Lowering his eyes just a little further, the Master found out. Sticking out of the ground in the patch of flowers he was just studying was the feathery end rather ornamental arrow. George blinked confusedly at the strange sight. Still holding the flower in his fingers, the apparition looked around for the source of the attack. Little did he know were the effects that were about to work on even him for simply coming so much as in contact with the weapon.
How alone he felt, yet it was not for the same reason as others around him. He had someone that he shared his afterlife with. He was so fond of her. The growing girl was so very perfect in every way to him. He remembered how even after they both were dead, she enjoyed celebrating Valentine's Day around the mansion. She and Aunt Victoria reveled in dolling up the place, trying to brighten it up for the 14th. Dear Emily. Dear, sweet Emily.
She was not here.
The very idea was enough to make his lifeless heart break. How he missed the haunting beat of hers. How he missed everything about her. For most of his stay here thus far, George was actually rather curious about this place. None too much bothered him... until he started noticing decorations being put up and the happy couple wandering the grounds arm in arm. The reality hit him like a ton of bricks. None of his friends and family were here. He was all alone. No Mallow Men, no Aunt Victoria, no friends, no other family...
No Emily. For God's sake, there was even no Emily.
The man looked like the epitome of those lost, longing souls that one hears about in movies and literature. He walked listlessly throughout the EPCOT park. His bright blue eyes looked sadder than they normally did and his face was stuck in a mindless, melancholy frown. He trudged along with a slight slouch, but his feet still appeared to not touch the ground, still hovering the tiniest millimeter above the pavement. His halo of blue and white reflected his current disposition, a little brighter than usual in the dying light of an oncoming night. The tentacles of phenomena swirled lazily around him, dragging behind him until they went too far away and disappeared all together.
Everything reminds him of her. Even when it was, say, just a building in the hub area of the Showcase, his thoughts went to her. The Master's frown deepened when he spotted the garden contained between the two shops that made up the entrance to this half of the park. He made his way over to the perfectly choreographed collection of flowers. Cerulean eyes saddened more as he focused on a specific cluster of blossoms. They were blue. They looked very similar to the ones that were part of her bouquet and veil. Master Gracey bent down to pick one up. His ectoplasm whirled a little faster around his hand as he became tangible. He delicately plucked the flower and straightened his posture once more. He twirled the small bloom and a sigh echoed from his thin lips. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. He could not smell it. He could barely even feel it in his grasp. Still, he seemed utterly infatuated with the tiny plant. As far as he was concerned, it was the closest thing he had to his young wife. Nothing would get between him and i---
The Master perked when he heard something zip through the air. His eyes popping open wide, he did not even flinch as he heard the noise come painfully close to him. Immediately, he looked down. The first thing he saw was a hole piercing straight through his chest, right where his heart used to be. It did not look like an entrance wound, but an exit wound. Naturally, he felt no pain or fear at the sight, just confusion. What in the world caused that? Lowering his eyes just a little further, the Master found out. Sticking out of the ground in the patch of flowers he was just studying was the feathery end rather ornamental arrow. George blinked confusedly at the strange sight. Still holding the flower in his fingers, the apparition looked around for the source of the attack. Little did he know were the effects that were about to work on even him for simply coming so much as in contact with the weapon.