Day 43 Sea mnster (Sick and tired.. and you can see that from drawing)
Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2014 2:23 pm
Shestval
ZyriFrost
My baby is sick.. and so am I.. dam flu dam fever.. So if I did have that "day off card" I use it now..
I hope you feel better. sad The only thing worse than being sick is being sick at the same time as ones you love, so you can't take care of them like you want to.
Baby didn't sleep well so I slept like 1,5h that night too.. now we both don't have fever anymore but just bad flu. But that's true.. its really hard to be same time..
Fatal Frame's Yae/Mayo & Sae/Mio fall together into the Flaming Skull.
*Note: I don't actually play, but I love the story. Feel free to correct me!*
This is, like... my most favorite game ever heart
I'd love to play one day. The 3DS version came out, then I learned I couldn't catch the twins on camera. sad It's gotta beat the camera angle issues in Resident Evil.
I've never played the 3ds fatal frame. I heard it was too short. Like, 2hrs play time and you beat it. rolleyes Not worth $40 Besides, it kinda defeats the purpose of a survival horror when you hafta have a WELL LIT room to play well (because the AR requires the cameras to see). Not scary! C'mon...
Elijah hesitated in front of the door, one hand raised to knock, while the other held the piece of paper against his chest. He was afraid; he couldn’t deny that, but the overwhelming urge to present the piece of paper to his master drowned out that fear, and he found himself knocking on the massive door.
“Enter.”
He jumped at the voice. That beautiful, deceptive voice. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he turned the knob and pushed the door. It swung open on soundless hinges, revealing the room beyond. Deep burgundy reds assaulted Elijah’s vision, and he trembled on the spot.
Micah sat behind a large mahogany desk, his dark eyes focused on the small boy. His face was cold, despite the smile tugging at his lips.
“Come in,” he said.
Elijah hesitated and then stepped through the doorway and into that dangerous red room. His breath caught in his throat, and he stared down at the ground as he shuffled forward. He stopped in front of the desk and thrust the paper out in front of him, an offering. There was a creak from Micah’s chair and a following creak from the desk. The paper disappeared from the boy’s fingers.
A pause.
“What is this?” There was amusement in his voice.
“A picture,” Elijah said, his words nearly swallowed by the vastness of the room.
“I can see that. What is it a picture of?”
The boy continued to stare at the floor. “Me and you.”
Another pause, followed by the sound of Micah emerging from behind the desk. A finger under his chin lifted the boy’s head until he was staring into those vacant, animal eyes.
“Why?” Amusement again.
His face flushed red to match the room. “I thought…that you’re like my dad now.”
Painful silence.
Micah laughed. “I’m not your father, Elijah.”
“I know, but—”
“And I don’t want to be your father.”
Elijah could feel his eyes beginning to burn with the pressure of tears.
“You’re my servant. Nothing more.”
The tears escaped. He lowered his head and stared at his feet as the tears tracked down his cheeks and dropped to the red carpet. That finger lifted his head again, baring all of his grief for Micah to see, and there was no guilt in those eyes, no shame at making the child cry.
“Dry your tears,” he said. “And get back to work.”
He turned away then, and as he made his way back around the desk, he dropped the picture into the wastebasket. Elijah flinched. Swallowing his sobs, he turned around and left the room.
***
Micah watched the door for a moment, as if expecting the boy to come back, and then reached into the wastebasket and retrieved the discarded picture. He studied the simple, childish figures that had been scrawled onto the paper with red crayon.
Elijah hated red.
Micah opened his desk drawer and dropped the picture inside.
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