✞ Midii Une ✞ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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tushanshu_logs2015-04-07 08:34 pm
unetrustworthy) wrote in tushanshu_logs2015-04-07 08:34 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN] Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer
Characters: Midii Une & Anyone who comes across her
Date: backdated to March 28 (One Year and 6-month 'versary of the day Malicant killed a few baby turtles)
Location: A small memorial set up just outside the city.
Situation: Midii Remembers the times before the Final Battle
Warnings/Rating: Talks of depressing subjects such as war, death, loss, etc etc. Basically, this is not meant to be a happy log.
On that day, Midii wore black.
She was normally quiet to begin with, but there was a noticeable aura of solemn about her. Hair combed until it was slick straight, only partially concealing her eyes as it fell down her shoulders in twin waterfalls of blonde. Face, washed. No makeup--she had never learned how to apply it properly, even as she came of age where many girls might have begun to take an interest.
Her first stop was to see a florist. Normally, flowers would have been an unnecessary expense. Even on Valentine's Day--they were pretty, yes, and sometimes they even smelled nice. But with her limited resources of money, she could never justify the cost. Except for today. She would have been remiss if she'd gone without a small bouquet of carnations and forget-me-nots. The flower of Remembrance.
If anyone where to follow her, they would notice her steps were deliberate. She wasn't wandering around the city aimless. It would be a long haul to make it all the way out of the city, but she never once stopped. Not even to eat. She wanted to make it to the site before it got dark.
Once there, she approached the grave marker with little hesitation. Her eyes scanned over every inch of it, trying not to think about how long it had been. How she should have been back sooner. The flowers were placed at its base, and she took the time to lightly run her fingers over it before calling out, softly:
"I'm sorry, Emily-Helen. You shouldn't be here. You should be with Riva and the others. Alive and Happy."
Were anyone to approach, she wouldn't feel ashamed. She wouldn't feel frightened. She wouldn't even shut herself off.
And if anyone were to ask...she would tell them.
Because Emily-Helen and the other baby turtles deserved to be remembered.
Date: backdated to March 28 (
Location: A small memorial set up just outside the city.
Situation: Midii Remembers the times before the Final Battle
Warnings/Rating: Talks of depressing subjects such as war, death, loss, etc etc. Basically, this is not meant to be a happy log.
On that day, Midii wore black.
She was normally quiet to begin with, but there was a noticeable aura of solemn about her. Hair combed until it was slick straight, only partially concealing her eyes as it fell down her shoulders in twin waterfalls of blonde. Face, washed. No makeup--she had never learned how to apply it properly, even as she came of age where many girls might have begun to take an interest.
Her first stop was to see a florist. Normally, flowers would have been an unnecessary expense. Even on Valentine's Day--they were pretty, yes, and sometimes they even smelled nice. But with her limited resources of money, she could never justify the cost. Except for today. She would have been remiss if she'd gone without a small bouquet of carnations and forget-me-nots. The flower of Remembrance.
If anyone where to follow her, they would notice her steps were deliberate. She wasn't wandering around the city aimless. It would be a long haul to make it all the way out of the city, but she never once stopped. Not even to eat. She wanted to make it to the site before it got dark.
Once there, she approached the grave marker with little hesitation. Her eyes scanned over every inch of it, trying not to think about how long it had been. How she should have been back sooner. The flowers were placed at its base, and she took the time to lightly run her fingers over it before calling out, softly:
"I'm sorry, Emily-Helen. You shouldn't be here. You should be with Riva and the others. Alive and Happy."
Were anyone to approach, she wouldn't feel ashamed. She wouldn't feel frightened. She wouldn't even shut herself off.
And if anyone were to ask...she would tell them.
Because Emily-Helen and the other baby turtles deserved to be remembered.
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Given how much the city had found them to be a sign of hope, it wasn't unreasonable.
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She thought back to past conversations, and how Emily-Helen had always tried so hard to keep the peace. That was the kind of person--er, turtle she had been.
"They had no reason to think anyone would have hurt them at the time. We didn't know."
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