... No. One could argue against it, but I think it's better up there.
[he kneels down and carefully puts the stray pieces back into his box. he picks it up, clutching it to his chest with a sort of defensiveness he rarely shows on the outside.
from there he only has to walk over and peel a photograph of a beautiful blonde woman (http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b342/stickxkeyblade/LiveJournal/01-1.jpg) off the wall. either the cieling starts to lower or the floor starts to move upwards, but there's a great shift as things begin to rustle and rush past them until they are suddenly near the top.
the ceiling is really a giant flame, twisting and dancing as if it has a mind entirely of its own. it doesn't feel bad... but it's hungry, as most flames are, and entirely unpredictable. this is the source of that noise, that protective feeling. there are some things above it, but it quickly fades into darkness. not even Zelman can see much back there anymore.]
"Distress" doesn't seem like the right word. You remind me of good things, things that I like.
[he's busy, sticking the picture of the blonde woman up on the wall. most of the pictures here are out of focus, and most of the wall has been scribbled over to the point of being completely covered. but these are his earlier years as a Black Blood at the end of the Dark Ages, back when things were... better. back when there were wars to fight and he was surrounded by comrades and enemies alike.]
no subject
[he kneels down and carefully puts the stray pieces back into his box. he picks it up, clutching it to his chest with a sort of defensiveness he rarely shows on the outside.
from there he only has to walk over and peel a photograph of a beautiful blonde woman (http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b342/stickxkeyblade/LiveJournal/01-1.jpg) off the wall. either the cieling starts to lower or the floor starts to move upwards, but there's a great shift as things begin to rustle and rush past them until they are suddenly near the top.
the ceiling is really a giant flame, twisting and dancing as if it has a mind entirely of its own. it doesn't feel bad... but it's hungry, as most flames are, and entirely unpredictable. this is the source of that noise, that protective feeling. there are some things above it, but it quickly fades into darkness. not even Zelman can see much back there anymore.]
"Distress" doesn't seem like the right word. You remind me of good things, things that I like.
[he's busy, sticking the picture of the blonde woman up on the wall. most of the pictures here are out of focus, and most of the wall has been scribbled over to the point of being completely covered. but these are his earlier years as a Black Blood at the end of the Dark Ages, back when things were... better. back when there were wars to fight and he was surrounded by comrades and enemies alike.]