xX-Bestrafe-Mich-Xx
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- Posted: Mon, 10 Oct 2011 23:37:56 +0000
((Just borrowing this thread so i can link back to this post for another rp....))
It was raining again, Raven watched the weather a lot, honestly there was little else to do but even so, it may sound silly to someone else but he never got bored of sitting at his window. Day or night there was always something to watch, if you knew where to look the world outside his window was a beautiful and fascinating place. It was dark out, the thick gray clouds shrouding the stars from sight, the only light coming from the dim glow of a dying street lamp below and the odd flash when a fork of lightning flashed across the sky preceding a deafening crack of thunder. The storm was right overhead, such that it almost felt like the whole house was shaking every time the sky above rumbled furiously. He wasnt scared though, though he did inch his feet back slightly as the wind changed direction, blowing the rain through a cracked and broken pane in the bottom right of the window. The thunder and the lightning didnt bother him, but he wasnt a fan of getting wet, wet and damp lead to fungus and rotting and all kinds of not very nice things.
Raven didnt know who the house belonged to, it wasnt his but honestly he didnt know if it belonged to anyone else either. It was one of those really old houses that was probably beautiful back in its day but over time and careless owners had fallen into disrepair until whoever owned it now just didnt even bother. No one had ever come to the house while he had been there and there was seldom anyone even close. For a good long way it was the only house that still remained, though filled with buildings even he could tell that they were not made for living in, big buildings with huge stone chimneys that seemed to reach all the way to the clouds, billowing out grey smoke into the blue sky. Factories. He had seen a picture in a book once, people worked there to make things. Sometimes he saw them, the people, driving past in big metal trucks before turning into the gates which somehow seemed to close by themselves, shielding anything else from view. He would always try and see what was beyond them, standing on his seat by the window and craning as much as he could but he could never see any clues as to what might have been happening in the factory.
Numerous times he had thought about going down there to see for himself, maybe even have a walk into town, talk to someone, anyone, maybe even make a friend or two, even just for a day but that, he was much too scared of. Raven dreamed of it often, daydreamed that is, he could sit for hours at his window, even when there was nothing out there to see, he would just stare at nothing while he imagined what his life could have been like. Life. He didnt even know if he was alive or not, he didnt needs to sleep or eat, but he certainly wasnt dead, dead people couldnt read books or play games or have dreams like he had. Then again he wasnt a person at all. He knew this, Father had never deluded him into thinking otherwise, he knew exactly what he was. No matter how real he looked, inside it was still nothing but fluff. Still, his father had said that everyone needed to have dreams, even impossible dreams. Raven knew his fathers dream was to have his family back, his dream was to be human. Both impossible but without either he wouldnt be here right now. Though the whole house was essentially his to roam about as he wished, mostly he stuck to the attic, there were few things he needed, the bare floor boards didnt bother him and the seat by the window was more than enough. He had collected a few things here and there and of course he had some of his own belongings, the ones that had survived time and various moves anyway but even these didnt need a particular place to go. Just a few books some toys, paper and pens and his sewing kit, which were fine laying wherever on the floor as long as he shooed the mice away when they tried to steal pages from his books to make their nests.
He liked the mice, even if they did try and steal his books they were one of the few living things he had interaction with. At first they had been scared of him, they ran away whenever he got near or make too much noise with walking on the creaking floor but after a few generations of baby mice, the younger ones realised that he wasnt a threat and little by little they grew friendly towards him, even to the point where sometimes they would simply curl up in his lap or sit on his shoulder. Raven had to watch them when they did that, he was sure they liked to chew on his hair when he wasnt paying attention. In the warmer months you would get birds too, they would come in through the broken window or sometimes find somewhere to roost in the rafters over his head and build their nests. The birds werent there all the time though, they had to deal with bigger creatures outside and so were automatically wary of him. They kept themselves to themselves and when there were eggs around he did his best not to disturb them.
Despite his age, Raven was in very good condition, mint in fact even if he did say so himself. Father had told him that his son had inherited his gift for doll making so maybe in some weird way he did too, before he could even write he had learned to repair himself and his clothes and even how to make new ones, of the latter of course. Refocusing his eyes, Raven ignored the rain and stared at his reflection, tilting his head slightly he wondered why Father had painted him with such a mournful expression, he had always given the impression that the original had been a happy child. Thank goodness whatever power had kept him going until now had given him the ability to change his expression, else he would look rather moody.
The rain had slowed by now, the clouds slowly moving across the sky so that here and there, there was a slight twinkle as the light from some far off sun tried to penetrate the shroud. Lifting his feet off the seat, Raven swung them round before placing them back on the ground, the soles of his shoes thudding against the floor, the sounds amplified slightly as it echoed around the more or less empty room. Heading over to somewhere near the middle of the room, he bent down to pick up a book and looked over its cover. Yes, this one would do. Flipping through to where he had last left off, Raven lay flat on the ground, the book resting on his chest where he could see it and read out loud to himself.
Ravens voice was very even and monotone as though it was stuck at the same volume as well as being unable to express emotions as he read out loud to himself. It wasnt too deep or too high but seemed to be at an exact middle point between the two and though as he spoke his lips moved he made no expressions or reactions to the story he was reading from his book. Even though he was alone he always read out loud, the dolls voice filling the empty space around him made it feel a little less empty.
((The post would normally continue but it is only a copy and paste of the story so i didnt bother adding it in.))
It was raining again, Raven watched the weather a lot, honestly there was little else to do but even so, it may sound silly to someone else but he never got bored of sitting at his window. Day or night there was always something to watch, if you knew where to look the world outside his window was a beautiful and fascinating place. It was dark out, the thick gray clouds shrouding the stars from sight, the only light coming from the dim glow of a dying street lamp below and the odd flash when a fork of lightning flashed across the sky preceding a deafening crack of thunder. The storm was right overhead, such that it almost felt like the whole house was shaking every time the sky above rumbled furiously. He wasnt scared though, though he did inch his feet back slightly as the wind changed direction, blowing the rain through a cracked and broken pane in the bottom right of the window. The thunder and the lightning didnt bother him, but he wasnt a fan of getting wet, wet and damp lead to fungus and rotting and all kinds of not very nice things.
Raven didnt know who the house belonged to, it wasnt his but honestly he didnt know if it belonged to anyone else either. It was one of those really old houses that was probably beautiful back in its day but over time and careless owners had fallen into disrepair until whoever owned it now just didnt even bother. No one had ever come to the house while he had been there and there was seldom anyone even close. For a good long way it was the only house that still remained, though filled with buildings even he could tell that they were not made for living in, big buildings with huge stone chimneys that seemed to reach all the way to the clouds, billowing out grey smoke into the blue sky. Factories. He had seen a picture in a book once, people worked there to make things. Sometimes he saw them, the people, driving past in big metal trucks before turning into the gates which somehow seemed to close by themselves, shielding anything else from view. He would always try and see what was beyond them, standing on his seat by the window and craning as much as he could but he could never see any clues as to what might have been happening in the factory.
Numerous times he had thought about going down there to see for himself, maybe even have a walk into town, talk to someone, anyone, maybe even make a friend or two, even just for a day but that, he was much too scared of. Raven dreamed of it often, daydreamed that is, he could sit for hours at his window, even when there was nothing out there to see, he would just stare at nothing while he imagined what his life could have been like. Life. He didnt even know if he was alive or not, he didnt needs to sleep or eat, but he certainly wasnt dead, dead people couldnt read books or play games or have dreams like he had. Then again he wasnt a person at all. He knew this, Father had never deluded him into thinking otherwise, he knew exactly what he was. No matter how real he looked, inside it was still nothing but fluff. Still, his father had said that everyone needed to have dreams, even impossible dreams. Raven knew his fathers dream was to have his family back, his dream was to be human. Both impossible but without either he wouldnt be here right now. Though the whole house was essentially his to roam about as he wished, mostly he stuck to the attic, there were few things he needed, the bare floor boards didnt bother him and the seat by the window was more than enough. He had collected a few things here and there and of course he had some of his own belongings, the ones that had survived time and various moves anyway but even these didnt need a particular place to go. Just a few books some toys, paper and pens and his sewing kit, which were fine laying wherever on the floor as long as he shooed the mice away when they tried to steal pages from his books to make their nests.
He liked the mice, even if they did try and steal his books they were one of the few living things he had interaction with. At first they had been scared of him, they ran away whenever he got near or make too much noise with walking on the creaking floor but after a few generations of baby mice, the younger ones realised that he wasnt a threat and little by little they grew friendly towards him, even to the point where sometimes they would simply curl up in his lap or sit on his shoulder. Raven had to watch them when they did that, he was sure they liked to chew on his hair when he wasnt paying attention. In the warmer months you would get birds too, they would come in through the broken window or sometimes find somewhere to roost in the rafters over his head and build their nests. The birds werent there all the time though, they had to deal with bigger creatures outside and so were automatically wary of him. They kept themselves to themselves and when there were eggs around he did his best not to disturb them.
Despite his age, Raven was in very good condition, mint in fact even if he did say so himself. Father had told him that his son had inherited his gift for doll making so maybe in some weird way he did too, before he could even write he had learned to repair himself and his clothes and even how to make new ones, of the latter of course. Refocusing his eyes, Raven ignored the rain and stared at his reflection, tilting his head slightly he wondered why Father had painted him with such a mournful expression, he had always given the impression that the original had been a happy child. Thank goodness whatever power had kept him going until now had given him the ability to change his expression, else he would look rather moody.
The rain had slowed by now, the clouds slowly moving across the sky so that here and there, there was a slight twinkle as the light from some far off sun tried to penetrate the shroud. Lifting his feet off the seat, Raven swung them round before placing them back on the ground, the soles of his shoes thudding against the floor, the sounds amplified slightly as it echoed around the more or less empty room. Heading over to somewhere near the middle of the room, he bent down to pick up a book and looked over its cover. Yes, this one would do. Flipping through to where he had last left off, Raven lay flat on the ground, the book resting on his chest where he could see it and read out loud to himself.
Ravens voice was very even and monotone as though it was stuck at the same volume as well as being unable to express emotions as he read out loud to himself. It wasnt too deep or too high but seemed to be at an exact middle point between the two and though as he spoke his lips moved he made no expressions or reactions to the story he was reading from his book. Even though he was alone he always read out loud, the dolls voice filling the empty space around him made it feel a little less empty.
((The post would normally continue but it is only a copy and paste of the story so i didnt bother adding it in.))
