#nextday

Hmm. Perhaps a new case for Parables Unsolved?

She squints at him for a moment, brushing some of her short, brown, messy, unbrushed hair behind her ears, then takes out her notebook and starts writing in it. Whoever or whatever this little dude is, she wants to make note of it.

The quiet Day doesn't even offer a hello before making her notes.

Tiny may or may not notice that the irises of her eyes are glowing an unnatural yellow, and that her skin has a dead look to it, resembling wet copy paper in color. Dark rings outline her eyes, as if she hasn't slept in several days. Truth is, she hasn't - and that's because she's dead.

@the-haunted-office

“Hello mystery lady! Hello? Helloooooooooo!” Tiny jumps and waves from his perch on a table, trying to get her attention. When she starts writing, Tiny tries to jump up to see, not having much luck.

Link

@katsuko-rp-blog

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —

♣ = discovering them crying . 

This is stupid. Why is she upset like this? Still upset like this? All these years later and her heart still aches over it all. Nextday has always heard how time heals all wounds, but that's a lie. Nothing heals all wounds, not the emotional kind. Some of them never heal. Some of them are around forever and may hurt less over time, but they never stop hurting altogether. It's like having a cut on your face that you didn't realize was there until you went to wash it and suddenly a spot stings.

Death doesn't even heal all wounds. In fact, she'd wager her own soul on scientific proof that it makes the wounds worse. Makes them stand out more. Makes them louder, harder not to think about. Death has a way of making you reflect on your whole life, after all, like standing in front of a mirror with the lights on and seeing everything all at once.

This sucks. This really sucks. She can't shed any tears, being a ghost, but she feels them all the same. She still feels the urge to blow her nose, wipe her eyes - which she does. She presses the sleeves of her shirt against her dry, technically non-existent eyes, and tries her best to choke back the sob that's hiding in her throat.

Instead, she gasps, startled, when she sees that someone has stumbled upon her little hiding spot in office 427. Try as they might, the Narrators haven't been able to keep her out of here. She wouldn't ever do any harm to this room, though. Not Stanley's room. Never Stanley's room...