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Third Wasp - [action/written]
Apr. 24th, 2012 12:00 pm[Above the rain and above the gusts wind, people living in building 3 or living around it will be able to hear someone screaming. It isn't a cry for help or a cry of someone in pain. Oh no.
It's just... Sion yelling at the top of his lungs. Not directing it at anyone, not even at the storm even if it seems like he's having some sort of contest with it to see who's loudest.
Maybe it was that feeling of nostalgia he had while staring out the window in his apartment not but moment ago that drove him to come up to the roof of his building out in the middle of this storm. In the back of his head, he knows he looks ridiculous but it feels too good. The cold, refreshing rain pelting at his face and clothes, making him soaked to the bone, the gusts of wind whipping his white hair around... even the sore, tingly feeling in the back of his throat from yelling too hard feels nice.
It reminds him of something that happened over four years ago. A day he cherishes.
A flash of lightning flickers off the horizon and is quickly followed by a loud boom of thunder. Almost immediately after, Sion screams even louder at the storm, trying to out match it.
If this keeps up, he's going to lose his voice]
---
[A little while later, after Sion's come back inside and dried off, he opens his journal to write an entry. (someone lost his voice)]
How do you keep important memories alive? Do you tell stories about them, or maybe even celebrate them when the time is fitting? I'm curious. There are so many different ways people go about it.
It's just... Sion yelling at the top of his lungs. Not directing it at anyone, not even at the storm even if it seems like he's having some sort of contest with it to see who's loudest.
Maybe it was that feeling of nostalgia he had while staring out the window in his apartment not but moment ago that drove him to come up to the roof of his building out in the middle of this storm. In the back of his head, he knows he looks ridiculous but it feels too good. The cold, refreshing rain pelting at his face and clothes, making him soaked to the bone, the gusts of wind whipping his white hair around... even the sore, tingly feeling in the back of his throat from yelling too hard feels nice.
It reminds him of something that happened over four years ago. A day he cherishes.
A flash of lightning flickers off the horizon and is quickly followed by a loud boom of thunder. Almost immediately after, Sion screams even louder at the storm, trying to out match it.
If this keeps up, he's going to lose his voice]
---
[A little while later, after Sion's come back inside and dried off, he opens his journal to write an entry. (someone lost his voice)]
How do you keep important memories alive? Do you tell stories about them, or maybe even celebrate them when the time is fitting? I'm curious. There are so many different ways people go about it.
