Official Summary: Edd and Rolf have been dead, though they died separately at different times compared to the evolved modern Cul-de-Sac. Since then, they have been gathering a vast amount of knowledge that the human mind can barely comprehend when they aren't hiding back in Limbo, wishing to understand themselves and what they have become. Some-what slow-moving.
Couples: Regular Kevin with Reverse Edd.
Genres: Romance and Supernatural
Rated M for swearing, later lemons, and the immense involvement death.
I do not own any of these characters.
The first thing I could comprehend was how blue the sky simply was and how good the outside world had finally smelled compared to the average air that was slowly becoming polluted with each night and with each factory rising, blocking out the stars that twinkled at night. I must have laid there for hours, watching the sun stay high in the sky with clouds just faintly brushing over the large star, casting a faint shadow among the land beneath it.
For once, I wasn't worrying about getting dirty. For once, I wasn't panicking about studying, or about the time or even pleasing my high-maintenance parents. I had remembered very clearly how I had arrived, why I arrived, though I still do not understand the physics behind such a confusing and impossible feat.
I was simply...
dead.
I had laid there upon hours and hours, wondering why the sun was shining so brightly on someone who had passed on, until the sun was finally blocked out by a peculiar figure.
I remember him screaming at me and something about animals possibly, his facial expressions running through happy, sadness, and ending on fear. With eyes full of terror, the male had finally stood still enough for me to see his true features in details that would have been impossible with constant movement, along with a good look at the world around him and I.
The male had a deeply tanned complexion, clearly of another race all together compared to my pale self. Not all that shockingly, his long dried sweat-ridden hair was of navy blue that was tied at the back of his neck, while his deep umber irises were only a few shades darker than his own skin. With shaggy fading blue jeaned overalls and no under-shirt, he had stood bare-foot in the tall deep-green grass with his toes always wiggling on their own at the sensation.
I remember that as I took a look at the grass, my head had started spinning around, to see the world around us. With tall grass that just barely tickled my knee caps, the tall male and I stood in a giant field that on the edges, had tall trees that had an almost friendly and inviting darkness underneath them. With shades of healthy bright greens, the grass itself was extremely impressionable. Where I had laid for what seemed like hours, left my body imprint into the now bent organism.
During my exploration of the beautiful view, the blue-haired male had reach out and touched my cheek to grab my attention, and later re-assured me that he was assessing my existence. Fear, had slowly turned into sadness that had spread across his face.
With a frown, I had reach my hand out and said my formerly favorite words.
"M-My name is Eddward, E-D-D-W-A-R-D, with two D's. You can just call me Edd though, or Double D."
Dropping his hand from my cheek, the other male smiled bitterly. "Edd-boy, welcome! My name is Rolf."
From then, our friendship had begun.
Considered a scholar, a genius, my teachers had always turned to me for my insight on such peculiar topics simply to see what had I thought on an amused, pressing, or simply random subjects. In my U.S History class though, I had floored my classmates and teacher on a required persuasive essay that was supposed to be entirely fictional, on how would someone of our time in the late 80s would get along with some of the immigrant farming and Shepard settlers of America.
I had gotten a 100% on that essay, with a few extra points for how strongly I had given it to the class and convincing I had sounded. My apparent prediction and beliefs in my own essay truly did become Non-Fiction though.
Ups and downs, a roller-coaster for both, one that had visited several times before with the other just beginning to understand the rush.
Rolf had died in 1903, and I had died in 1989, and though we had some difficulties explaining and understanding on both ends, we had stuck together without the need of glue and impending glares on our backs from pressuring parents or teachers.
It was entertaining, and depressing.
Very soon after meeting, he had explained where we were and what we have became.
Never moving on, before our time, lost souls, as if we were characters that played ghosts under white sheets from a movie or the ever growing popular comic books that were just starting to be advertised in thick fat plain televisions.
Tied down, for whatever reason spirits were suppose to have. Being the more experienced spirit of us two, Rolf had finally confessed something quite, nice really.
We existed in between two worlds, meant to be kept separate. Though, since we're the middle piece, we can go to either of them, though we would never be able to return from the second one.
The first plane of existence was the reality we have came from, the gracious world we had originated from, born in and had died in. Anywhere in the world, and you could arrive there, though spending too much time in there would take your energy away slowly, to the point if you run out of energy, your spiritual particles would scatter for days at a time. You'd become weak for months, barely able to even visit the place where you had died, which is where you appear in the first place by default and without thought. Rolf had only learned this from another who had been here when he himself arrived, though he never did give the instructions on how to go, only what happens when you do.
The second plane of existence is when you finally move on. Spirits are suppose to linger in the first plane of existence, and when they finally get over their death or run out of their vast amounts of energy, they scatter and reappear in the second plane automatically. Not even the boy before Rolf knew what it was, or where it was. We're in the middle though, just like thousands and thousands of others. Sectioned off, we live in one of the shades of being in the middle, simply because of why we won't move on.
Our bodies, our deaths, are so unfair that even the universe has agreed.
Despite Rolf's shaggy stereotypical 1900s Shepard attire, he had a fascination of knowledge that I myself had known, only 8 decades after him yet with a proper education of discoveries that had only been expanded on since the basics have been written out.
Due to some of our random bouts of educational teachings and discussions, Rolf was able to connect several dots of being dead and being in this middle plane of existence. Some of which he was barely able to explain without drawing into the dirt, and others he had to show.
My favorite connection he had made, brought me to tears.
It took an explanation of the forms of Energy. Kinetic, Potential, and Thermal, with everything in between. With a basic touching of Magnetic and Gravitational Energy, he had paused in the middle of one of our many discussions to help him better understand the advanced topics. Before I had arrived and after the boy had left, Rolf had spent 85 years alone. Due to being around much longer than myself, his senses have quickly grown accustomed to this plane over time. Discovering every crook and cranny, avoiding the ones that frightened him due to a pulse that called for him each time he came even remotely close to the biomes edge.
As it happens to be though, being dead also reveals the curtain of a different kind of energy, of a more in depth spiritual nature. As we marched towards the discovery, I slowly began to feel it myself. It was large, and truly pulsing, though it wasn't trying to hypnotize and trick you into its clutches, but it was truly alluring, like an aroma of a delicious breakfast.
In a vast field that had never seen the shy darkness of night, rested a simple, yet elegant structure right in the middle. Built with rich dark wood, it had little personal carvings nestled right into the center of each piece and plank of wood that made up the building. A deep, naturally green roof top made with tickling shingles that made your heart vibrate almost in peace and harmony. With four pillars underneath said roof, it had two sets of small stairs, and an equally dark fence that connected to the railings that matched the stair sets. Surrounding the sweet structure, were bright tall sunflowers everywhere.
Despite being in the sea of them, you could still see the Structure right ahead over the tips of the petals, even now. With no direct path leading to the steps, each time we visited we had to push the large flowers to the side, and even though you could see the Structure, you could never see what was inside it until you were in it yourself.
The Structure? With it's little quirks and carvings, surrounded by possibly thousands of sunflower flowers that could reach up to 5 feet tall, had an almost carved out middle in the floor, with the floorboards slowly sinking into the gaping hole almost as if the boards have been dipped into water the past centuries, giving away to the slight calming pressure.
In the gaping hole, there were faces Rolf couldn't recognize, yet I could. Mournful expressions, and for once in my life, I could see my parents upset over something besides my sexuality and grades.
The Structure was the Portal back to Earth, to our original plane of existence.