Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2014 17:43:01 GMT -8
LILLIAN DELILAH EVANS- -16 -- GRYFFINDOR
full name: Lillian Delilah Evans
nicknames: Lily will do quite nicely, thanks.
age:16
birthplace: Cokeworth
blood-type: Muggle-born
sexuality: heterosexual, mostly.
year/occupation: 6th year // Prefect
three words to describe character: Protective, Intelligent, Curious.
play by: Karen Gillan.
Red.
I knew I would die in this place, from the very cusp of our seemingly perpetual journey. From the moment I stepped foot out onto my quiet patio and continued with baited breath out of that lovely picket fence, onto the antiquated cobblestone paths of destiny before me, I understood I was headed for my demise. Here, in this place, in the mere slightest of moments, I would simply cease to exist.
The ground moved beneath me, edging me ever closer to my eternal tomb. The tunnel shrank in diameter- or perhaps it was simply my dwindling sanity playing little tricks of optical illusion on my mind. Great stories are told of "the light at the end of the tunnel", but they must be whisperings of a mad man with a failing, decrepit mentality. Before me, I witnessed such a light- and it is as devastating as it is splendid. Red poured into the confines of the tunnel, along with putrid shades of yellows and oranges often associated with the bubbling lava of active volcanoes.
I claimed death held couldn't hold a candle to my fear any more, but a ferociously live volcano? That's a world of a different story.
I could see clearly into the cavern by now, that which would be deemed fitting enough to be my final resting place. I take solace in the knowledge that I will, in turn for my sacrifice, be ridding the world of the greatest evil it could ever know. There it is then, right? The metaphorical "light at the end of the tunnel". Only right now, it seems rather laughable to view the glass as half full. I left much of my youthful optimism in the Shire, as it happens.
The Shire. I steadily began treading the path over open flame, walking towards the heart of Mount Doom. The ring must be destroyed, if the Shire, or indeed the whole of Middle Earth, is to persevere. As I inhaled ash and soot, tears of relief washed through me. It would be over soon, the eternal weight of bearing such a heavy burden. The green fields of the Shire would not burn red, and Sauron would not succeed in his pillage and plunder of the free world.
Just a few more steps. The path below my feet become little more than a blur, the air was sparse. Dying of asphyxiation was an innate possibility in this, the very belly of hell. Waves of heat danced before my vision, and the burning intensity of the ring grew steadily as I treaded closer to the end. My breath was running ragged, and I could think of but one refuge: the finale to my story, but also to the end of the ring.
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo!", I thought I could make out the distant cries of my dearest companion, my Sam. But it must be another trick of the imagination, for there was no one in sight.
And all around me, there was so much red.
ONLY REQUIRED FOR YOUR FIRST CHARACTER.
nicknames: Lily will do quite nicely, thanks.
age:16
birthplace: Cokeworth
blood-type: Muggle-born
sexuality: heterosexual, mostly.
year/occupation: 6th year // Prefect
three words to describe character: Protective, Intelligent, Curious.
play by: Karen Gillan.
Red.
I knew I would die in this place, from the very cusp of our seemingly perpetual journey. From the moment I stepped foot out onto my quiet patio and continued with baited breath out of that lovely picket fence, onto the antiquated cobblestone paths of destiny before me, I understood I was headed for my demise. Here, in this place, in the mere slightest of moments, I would simply cease to exist.
The ground moved beneath me, edging me ever closer to my eternal tomb. The tunnel shrank in diameter- or perhaps it was simply my dwindling sanity playing little tricks of optical illusion on my mind. Great stories are told of "the light at the end of the tunnel", but they must be whisperings of a mad man with a failing, decrepit mentality. Before me, I witnessed such a light- and it is as devastating as it is splendid. Red poured into the confines of the tunnel, along with putrid shades of yellows and oranges often associated with the bubbling lava of active volcanoes.
I claimed death held couldn't hold a candle to my fear any more, but a ferociously live volcano? That's a world of a different story.
I could see clearly into the cavern by now, that which would be deemed fitting enough to be my final resting place. I take solace in the knowledge that I will, in turn for my sacrifice, be ridding the world of the greatest evil it could ever know. There it is then, right? The metaphorical "light at the end of the tunnel". Only right now, it seems rather laughable to view the glass as half full. I left much of my youthful optimism in the Shire, as it happens.
The Shire. I steadily began treading the path over open flame, walking towards the heart of Mount Doom. The ring must be destroyed, if the Shire, or indeed the whole of Middle Earth, is to persevere. As I inhaled ash and soot, tears of relief washed through me. It would be over soon, the eternal weight of bearing such a heavy burden. The green fields of the Shire would not burn red, and Sauron would not succeed in his pillage and plunder of the free world.
Just a few more steps. The path below my feet become little more than a blur, the air was sparse. Dying of asphyxiation was an innate possibility in this, the very belly of hell. Waves of heat danced before my vision, and the burning intensity of the ring grew steadily as I treaded closer to the end. My breath was running ragged, and I could think of but one refuge: the finale to my story, but also to the end of the ring.
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo!", I thought I could make out the distant cries of my dearest companion, my Sam. But it must be another trick of the imagination, for there was no one in sight.
And all around me, there was so much red.
ONLY REQUIRED FOR YOUR FIRST CHARACTER.
--GATSBY-- 23 --
