![Eld The Lonely[Read Desc.] Minecraft Skin](https://static.planetminecraft.com/files/resource_media/preview/1436/amu8083026_minecraft_skin-8083026.jpg "Eld The Lonely[Read Desc.] Minecraft Skin")
Published Sep 1st, 2014, 9/1/14 8:08 pm
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This is my first skin, and also my entry for the emotions contest! You can read the super-long story below if you feel so inclined...
Not much is known about Eld The Emotionless, so we cannot say for certain where he/she/it comes from, or how he/she/it came to be. Some folk tales say that Eld was a very wealthy, successful bussinessman, who went by the name of Svante. Svante was the kind of man that loved his children and wife dearly, but never had time to be with them because of his work. His smallest daughter, Annette, was very interested in theatre, and was part of her elementary school's thespian club. His son, Julius, was an aspiring writer, and had written an eighty-minute performance about a man in a mask, that went about teaching people about the importance of enjoying what you have. Julius managed to convince the thespian club to perform his play, and Annette landed the role as female lead, and Julius as the masked man. Svante could not attend the performance, as he had work to finish, he decided he would work as fast as he could, and if he had time he would run down to the theater to catch the end of the play. He worked as hard as he could, and finished with enough time to see the last fifteen minutes of the play, as he was driving he heard sirens blaring in the distance "another poor soul's house got robbed" he thought to himself. But as he pulled down the street that the theater was on, his heart sunk. The sirens were from fire engines and ambulances, six of them altogether, all pulled up outside of the pile of smoldering ash and rubble that once was the theatre theater, next to them lay a pile of bodybags. He got out of his car and ran as fast as he could towards the engines. "What is going on here?! What is going on?!" He yelled, concerned for his family. "Oh, sir, what are you doing here?" A man decked out in full fire-gear asked Svante. "My family! Where are they?!" He shouted frantically. "Name sir?" The firefighter asked. "Eliasson. Svante Eliasson." He said, trying to calm himself down. "Hans! I need a list of the dead!" The firefighter shouted to another man in fire gear. The other man walked over and handed him a clipboard. The firefighter took off his mask, and looked down at the clipboard. After a minute his face went white. "Mister, Eliasson" He started with a grim tone of voice. "I'm sorry, but your family, was killed in the fire." Svante's face went grey, and his heart dropped to his shoes. "They're, they're dead?" He asked in disbelief. "Yes sir, I'm sorry." "Can I see them?" Svante asked. "We haven't recovered the little girl's body yet, but we have the older woman's and the boy's if you'd like to see them one more time." His little Annette gone missing. He nodded sullenly and the firefighter walked Svante to the bodybags and set two to the side and unzipped them. The first was his beautiful wife, her face now mangled and charred. Her once long, flowing blond hair, now grey, black and brittle. He moved on to his son. He was still wearing the mask from the performance. Tears dripped down Svante's face as he removed the charred mask from his once-son's face. "Rest in peace, my boy." He said as he unhooked the leather straps from behind his son's head. He didn't have the heart to look at him. It was too painful. He zipped the bodybags back up, and put on the mask. Some say that you can still see him treading about on the site where the theater burned down looking for his daughter's corpse, wearing the mask his son wore, and his business suit.
Not much is known about Eld The Emotionless, so we cannot say for certain where he/she/it comes from, or how he/she/it came to be. Some folk tales say that Eld was a very wealthy, successful bussinessman, who went by the name of Svante. Svante was the kind of man that loved his children and wife dearly, but never had time to be with them because of his work. His smallest daughter, Annette, was very interested in theatre, and was part of her elementary school's thespian club. His son, Julius, was an aspiring writer, and had written an eighty-minute performance about a man in a mask, that went about teaching people about the importance of enjoying what you have. Julius managed to convince the thespian club to perform his play, and Annette landed the role as female lead, and Julius as the masked man. Svante could not attend the performance, as he had work to finish, he decided he would work as fast as he could, and if he had time he would run down to the theater to catch the end of the play. He worked as hard as he could, and finished with enough time to see the last fifteen minutes of the play, as he was driving he heard sirens blaring in the distance "another poor soul's house got robbed" he thought to himself. But as he pulled down the street that the theater was on, his heart sunk. The sirens were from fire engines and ambulances, six of them altogether, all pulled up outside of the pile of smoldering ash and rubble that once was the theatre theater, next to them lay a pile of bodybags. He got out of his car and ran as fast as he could towards the engines. "What is going on here?! What is going on?!" He yelled, concerned for his family. "Oh, sir, what are you doing here?" A man decked out in full fire-gear asked Svante. "My family! Where are they?!" He shouted frantically. "Name sir?" The firefighter asked. "Eliasson. Svante Eliasson." He said, trying to calm himself down. "Hans! I need a list of the dead!" The firefighter shouted to another man in fire gear. The other man walked over and handed him a clipboard. The firefighter took off his mask, and looked down at the clipboard. After a minute his face went white. "Mister, Eliasson" He started with a grim tone of voice. "I'm sorry, but your family, was killed in the fire." Svante's face went grey, and his heart dropped to his shoes. "They're, they're dead?" He asked in disbelief. "Yes sir, I'm sorry." "Can I see them?" Svante asked. "We haven't recovered the little girl's body yet, but we have the older woman's and the boy's if you'd like to see them one more time." His little Annette gone missing. He nodded sullenly and the firefighter walked Svante to the bodybags and set two to the side and unzipped them. The first was his beautiful wife, her face now mangled and charred. Her once long, flowing blond hair, now grey, black and brittle. He moved on to his son. He was still wearing the mask from the performance. Tears dripped down Svante's face as he removed the charred mask from his once-son's face. "Rest in peace, my boy." He said as he unhooked the leather straps from behind his son's head. He didn't have the heart to look at him. It was too painful. He zipped the bodybags back up, and put on the mask. Some say that you can still see him treading about on the site where the theater burned down looking for his daughter's corpse, wearing the mask his son wore, and his business suit.
| Gender | Interchangeable |
| Format | Java |
| Model | Steve |
| Tags |
3062834
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deadoppossum11
MaximusPrime23
PrincessLuna16
Sophisticated_Trashcan
Mineifications
Skugi_Graffiti
Pro Master
MistFaller
cadbane86140
flavour
Dukette
spacebr0wnies
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