yearningsands-blog

[yearningsands-blog]

replies to be finished/edited

@cxlpritous

@hydenseeked

@luminaer

if i owe you a reply and i haven’t listed it here please lmk!!

[yearningsands-blog]

vyndictate‌:

It was as though my eyes were playing tricks on me. Ghostly apparitions and mirages, foreign whispers around every corner, along with the lingering nausea, a pool at the pit of my stomach. To hope seemed a grave mistake. I had learned time and time over the cost of placing your wishes too high to reach, and such barriers and absolutions I had created for myself adorned me still, even here, in this unknown city where I stood, feeling as though a plethora of eyes were upon me, crushing against my chest. I stood rooted on the spot nonetheless, forever a prisoner to the falsities fate liked to hang on a thread, dangling right in front of me. It took me a blink and two to adjust my vision, shaping this mirage into a silhouette, and then, a familiar voice sounding from said shape. 

It wasn’t until I heard my name, that I was shaken out of this reverie, eyes widening, and there was little my limbs could do but stiffen, as though I were the ground itself. And eventually, from my lips, the words sounded: “Lene. Is that you?” I was asking the obvious, but I had learned that even following common sense was often a foolish mistake. I detested this city with a burning loathing, and it was heard through gritted teeth.

Each syllable spoken, the frequency, the pitch. It was unmistakably her, and I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or horrified at this unexpected circumstance. My throat felt hoarse as I spoke again. “Of course it’s me; You will not be doing that.” To confirm my statement, my grip tightened onto said wooden sword, clear for Lene to see. There was relief, though. I was relieved. I couldn’t hide my smile. “You’re safe, at least. I’m glad.”

It’s him.

He’s real.

It’s her dear friend, given back to her after what has felt like an age on her own, and that’s what immediately causes Lene to burst into tears in the middle of the street. She hates to make a scene usually, hates to be vulnerable. She puts on a strong face for so many people, but this is her friend. Not an acquaintance, or her leader, but someone she trusts implicitly, so it’s alright for her to be weak for a moment, right?

“Ares!” She gasps out, darting forward, and then she can’t quite decide if she wants to hug him or give him a thump because of how worried she’s been, so in the end, in a very uncharacteristically messy display, Lene decides to do both. One arm squeezes him as tight as she can manage, while her free hand comes up to thump her fist (lightly -- she doubts she could really hurt him, but she doesn’t want to take any chances) on his chest. “Idiot, why did you have to come here too?” As if he had any say in the matter, but she’s very worked up at the moment. Two people; that’s two people now whom she knows and loves here with her, and though she’s so happy to see them, it breaks her heart to know they’re stuck in this hell with her.

“I’m safe,” She sobs out a confirmation, finally releasing Ares from her grip, wiping her eyes with the heels of her palms. “And you are too. Thank the gods, you’re safe too.” Though she’s still sniffling, she tries her very best to give him a watery smile. “I’m sorry for crying on your clothes... I wasn’t wearing rogue, so at least it won’t stain.” She manages a shaky laugh -- now that she’s had her moment, she feels quite embarrassed at her emotional outburst. “You’ve escaped my wrath today, since you’re the real thing! Feel honoured you’ve been spared from my wooden blade.” It’s a weak joke, lacking her usual cheer, but it’s the best she can manage feeling so fragile at the moment.

[yearningsands-blog]

hydenseeked‌:

The hustle and bustle of the different Wards makes him think he’s back in London when he was alive, ambling about the streets. It’s strangely nice, but that worries him. Is that what they wanted, the people who brought many of them here? Would they get so comfortable, that they’d never want to leave? Perhaps for some, this was another chance they didn’t have at life. He supposes he fits into this category, but a part of him knew he shouldn’t get too cosy. He’s a Heroic Spirit; he’s dead, but resurrected to fight on another’s behalf. This place makes him of his second home: Chaldea, an organization to prevent the incineration of humanity….which they technically did…but.

Although, that’s a whole other can of worms. 

Staying at the place he’s been assigned also prompts unwanted anxiety. Also, Hyde’s there with him, practically side-by-side, monologuing about something ridiculous. 

That’s why he went to wander to clear his head, maybe pick up something to eat at one of the cafes. While wandering the street, he comes across a fairly large crowd, his interest drawn in. The Doctor was able to get in somewhat close, seeing what was going on. There’s a flash of green, which is accompanied by pink and he swears he seen something like that before. Taking a step back, he’s able to get a full view, his eyes widen; it’s the girl from before!

Her movements are lithe, graceful– like Mata Hari or Serenity, but she beats to her own drum. Jekyll joins in with the crowd to applaud when she concludes, but when the crowd dissipate everything happens at once.

Not going to lie, he’s a little overwhelmed, backing off immediately.

“Wh––” Jekyll raises his arms up in alarm, he feels people beginning to stare from her outburst, where he gives a quick glance around. It appears anyone around to see it happen has long looked away. Dragging his gaze back to her, he can feel her intensity radiating off her.

His voice becomes meek, reflecting his current appearance, “U…um, that’s–– you see….”

No, no– it’d be better if he’s honest; it’ll do him no good if he falls into bad habits when he was alive. When she brings up his mother, he almost laughs–– it’s felt so long since he’s seen her; she’s also long dead– by estimate of the year humanity was incinerated. The Doctor clears his throat, hands falling limp at his sides now.

“Y….you have a lot of questions, haha, but I’m glad to see you unharmed, miss.” A smile curls onto his lips, brows furrowed upward, gesturing his hand behind her, “…I’ll be willing to answer them, but perhaps we can talk about it after we sit down? There’s a café up ahead, are you hungry––?” He blinks once, and a swirl of red drowns the green.

Watching the girl closely, Hyde huffs, leaning close on the Doctor’s shoulder in their mind space. Quite the chatty one, ain’t she? Ya could’ve like, turned tail like the coward you are! But he ignores him; blinking again, it’s back to green. He remains quiet– awaiting her answer. 

“You bet I do!” She huffs again, though her incensed expression has faded somewhat; now it’s more a pout than anything else. She does feel a little bad for suddenly blowing up at him out of nowhere... She’s sure being lectured by a dancer in public wasn’t exactly on his list of things to do today, but in fairness, lecturing someone wasn’t on hers either.

Regardless of that, she takes a moment to collect himself. He appears... Normal. Certainly more normal than he did during The Event, as she has so dubbed it in her head, though perhaps that’s not the best metric to judge anyone by. The gods know Lene wasn’t her normal self during it -- that is, not tidy and dainty like she usually presents herself as. With a sigh, Lene pulls herself back from the bespectacled man’s personal space, though she remains with her hands on her hips.

... Though not for long, because really, she can’t pass up the offer of food. Exhaling the tension from her body, her arms drop to her sides again, entangling themselves in her shawl as she considers his words more deeply for a moment. Yes, she’s curious, and yes, he helped her... But she recalls how terrifying he had been after his seemingly change of personality. It might not have been directed at her, but it’s still something she needs to consider for her own safety.

“So long as we sit in plain sight,” She concedes eventually. “I’m curious and concerned... But I’m also not foolish enough to put myself at risk. You understand, right?” She hopes he does. She truly is grateful to him for helping her, but at the same time... Well, she’s vulnerable.

Regardless of all this, she extends her hand -- an offer for him to shake, if he feels her request is reasonable. 

“My name is Lene,” She begins, much more calmly than she had been before. “I’m a dancer from Darna, in Jugdral. If you’re happy to agree with what I’ve asked, I’d like to know your name too, sir.”

[yearningsands-blog]

what colour is your muse?

tagged by: @zioneal

tagging: @hydenseeked, @cxlpritous, @eyebrand, @lunarbraced, and you!

Your dominant hues are red and magenta. You love doing your own thing and going on your own adventures, but there are close friends you know you just can't leave behind. You can influence others on days when you're patient, but most times you just want to go out, have fun, and do your own thing.

Your saturation level is high - you get into life and have a strong personality. Everyone you meet will either love you or hate you - either way, your goal is to get them to change the world with you. You are very hard working and don't have much patience for people without your initiative.

Your outlook on life is very bright. You are sunny and optimistic about life and others find it very encouraging, but remember to tone it down if you sense irritation.

[yearningsands-blog]

eyebrand‌:

     “Are you quite sure? I would not want to waste your money on      something so small…”

It’s not like she was scrapping for money. All that time in Hive City had allowed her to build up her bank account and luckily it was transferred over here. Not that she thought highly of the captors here, but that was oddly nice of them to do that when they could have easily had everyone from that city start off with nothing. But that was neither here nor there; she had saw someone in trouble and about to be robbed and of course, it was in Lucina’s blood to leap in to help.

They had underestimated her, clear by the way they were knocked out cold. Normally, Lucina wouldn’t have used her fists but… drawing a sword would have left her more in trouble than simply knocking someone out. In any case, with Lene being her witness, Lucina had gotten off with just a simple warning and the police had carried the robber away. She would feel a little bad, had they not been trying to rob someone.

     “Please do not thank me. I simply did what anyone with a heart would      do. We all work hard for the coin we earn, and people should not taken           advantage of that. Indeed, dancing takes a lot of work. My father and      mother are both friends with a rather famous dancer, and she works      harder than anyone I have met.”

In the middle of her speech, the princess stopped right in her tracks when Lene had introduced herself.

     “– I apologize, but did you say Jugdral? As in… The country in      which Prince Seliph comes from?”

Realizing that she hadn’t actually given her name, the princess quickly stammered and bowed her head politely.

     “I-I apologize for being so rude. My name is Lucina. I come from      The Halidom of Ylisse.”

Brave, pretty, and humble -- the whole package! Lene counts herself very, very lucky to have run into someone like this on her travels -- next time she runs into Prince Seliph, she’ll have to tell him about her encounter. Giving the other a playful nudge with her elbow, Lene offers up another bright smile to her.

“It’s not a waste at all!” She insists. “It’s the very least I could do to show my thanks. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t be able to eat at all, never mind buy anything nice. If I can share that something nice with a genuine hero, all the better.” 

They move up a space in the queue as the conversation continues. Do all of these places take an age to serve people? Lene files that thought away for future consideration; Lucina comes first. “A famous dancer?” She echoes, and for a moment -- just a moment, her heart wonders. She crushes the thought as quickly as it comes up, however; as if something so convenient would happen! “Maybe one day I’ll be able to dance on her level. I’ve never actually met another dancer! We’re a rare bunch, in my home--”

She trails off for a moment as she processes the other’s words.

She knows Prince Seliph? She knew it! There had to be a reason Lene felt she was familiar! This is gossip! Turning a gaze so excited she might as have stars in her eyes to Lucina, she quickly grasps her hands. “You know His Highness?! You know, I was just thinking about how much you resemble him -- you have the same colour of hair, did you know that? I mean, Lester has blue hair too, but not the way you two do!” She leans in conspiratorially, glancing about as though she’s worried someone might overhear. “Are you his sister, Lucina? A secret sister none of us know about? Snuck away to wherever your Halidom might be to protect you from the Empire? What continent is it on? Does he know you? Ohhh, this is so exciting! You must tell me, I promise I won’t tell a soul!”

She’s probably not making a good case for herself in being able to keep secrets, though...

[yearningsands-blog]

lunarbraced‌:

                               IF TRUTH IS TO BE TOLD, EIRIKA IS MORE THAN CAPABLE of handling herself in the face of adversity. With a more viable sword within her hands, the sword blessed by the divine spirits, allowing her to attack with brunt as well as agility, there is no doubt, that she would render a ruffian such as him, useless or perhaps, a worser fate. Regardless of the outcome of the situation, she is nonetheless, grateful for the other’s gestures and valiant efforts. 

Negating the potential of whether or not she could have fended herself or not, Eirika is much too aware that she would be in debt to the other woman. There is something that allures her about the other – perhaps, it is the lively spirit and the ability to stand for herself despite a meek situation. After all, the radiance within the darkness betwixt them is, what she considers, the bravest of stars. Unbeknownst to her the dancer’s identity, nor aware of her genealogy or perhaps even her valiant war efforts prior to her arrival – Eirika knows that she owes Lene, her life. 

So she merely smiles at her bravery, her effort for standing up for those that potentially could not stand for themselves. To her, that is the very basic quality of a hero. To her, the verdant headed woman is HER hero, her saviour. Perhaps, the princess herself was daft as to what the other man’s intent was – or perhaps, it has been so ingrained within her that the mere thought of rejection proves to be a point of discomfort. Regardless of the reasoning, the situation is now simply an event of the past.

                ❝  i am fine, milady. It is alright, I would have done the same if it were you instead of me.   ❞  She responds with honesty, with a lingering of blunt sincerity in her words. Even though the brave sword feels different in her sheathe than the feeling of Sieglinde by her side, she is nonetheless confident in her ability to fend off a ruffian she had the displeasure of encountering. The brave sword weighs heavy upon her, akin to a toll on her spirit with each use she draws upon its name – yet, without a doubt, when in a situation of dire need; the sword has yet to fail her to best her opponents.       ❝   i am in debt to you,  milady. I owe you one for risking your life for my cause. Please, let me know what I could do for you. My name is Eirika, and I once again, would like to properly thank you for your valiant bravery.   ❞   

Milady?! That’s a first for the girl in question. Unusual for her (it’s usually her doing the embarrassing, after all) Lene’s cheeks flush, pink as the bow holding her hair back, and she momentarily finds herself at a loss for words -- certainly no easy feat! Eirika is so sincere in her thanks that Lene actually finds herself a little nervous. No one has ever really spoken to her like this before. No one’s had to, and coming from someone as dazzling as a princess, it’s almost overwhelming.

If only she knew the truth of the other’s identity, she might just pass out on the spot. Ignorance is bliss for a girl such as Lene; she’s barely coping with it as is, never mind what she doesn’t know. 

“I don’t think I was in that much danger!” She manages after a stunned moment; she’s truly touched, but this is a bit much! It’s nice of Eirika to think so kindly of her, though. “I just did what anyone with a spine would do. I know little weasels like him aren’t a threat if you chase them off early... I just couldn’t stand the thought of him trying anything slimy on someone as pretty as you.” Normally, saying something like that is just how Lene is, but she’s blurted it out on top of feeling frazzled already, and her mind crows at what an idiot she’s being right now. Get yourself together, fool of a girl!

“My name’s Lene,” She mentally gives her cheeks a little slap, and tries to ground herself again. “I’m just a dancer; no lady here, so just call me that.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, her gaze darts about for another moment, before resting on the sheathe at Eirika’s side. Well. 

“Judging by the sword, I’m sure you could have handled him even if I hadn’t been there... But I’m not fool enough to say no to a lady as pretty as yourself!” Is she trying to turn the embarrassment around? Perhaps just a little. She’s more in her element like that, anyway. Flashing as charming a smile as she can manage after looking so idiotic, she offers her arm again. “I didn’t really do anything special, but if it means I could get to know you a little better, I’d be honoured if I could invite you to accompany me for something sweet?” 

[yearningsands-blog]

zioneal‌:

     There isn’t much protest when Lene expresses her relief, especially so when Seliph’s once heavy heart feels the warmth of momentary reprieve. The embrace is quick, just as Seliph squeezes back reassuringly with a smile of his own, despite his confusion. So when Lene explains the purpose of such a bizarre action, Seliph only tilts his head with that same smile, perplexed and very unconvinced of the little spiel. Even so, Seliph’s relief floods and overflows inside of him like a bubbling brook, and it certainly doesn’t damper his mood when he realizes Lene is still very much the same as she had been before this madness.

     “I’ve been as well as I can be, Lene,” Seliph reassures, the hand that was once on his chest lowering – resting back at his side. “I’m just relieved that in all this, I found a familiar face.” Truly, Seliph was as grateful as can be. But as quick as he is to smile, does a concerned frown follow shortly thereafter. He lowers his gaze for a moment to consider his words – closing his eyes as a sharp breath leaves him. “…But,” he starts, steeling his gaze once he meets her own, “is it truly just us?”

     The possibility brings Seliph the same uneasiness he had felt prior their reunion. It’s this thought too that makes him shudder – arms crossing over his stomach as he holds himself in a moment of habitual distress. Were they really alone here? Was there no possible way for them to escape? Would it only be just them? These questions bring nothing but a pressuring anxiety that buries his chest with unfathomable heaviness. He has no doubt Lene must wonder the same.

     “In truth, I’ve no idea as to what this place is supposed to be, nor do I recognize those I’ve come across thus far,” Seliph says, “but I feel drawn here nonetheless, despite the questions I hold for such a mystery. I’m not sure why…” He trails off in thought then, before shaking his head, the same warm smile returning to grace his features once more. “In any case, it’s good we found each other. Two heads are better than one, after all.”

Finally coming down from her frazzled emotions, Lene’s smile returns to her face, much more soft than usual. A familiar face, a lifeline at last; whether or not he privately thinks she’s lost her mind isn’t weighing on her as heavily as she assumed it would. What matters, in the end, is that she’s not alone anymore. 

“I’m very glad to hear that, sir. But if you don’t mind, I’ll still keep watch over you regardless. If anything happened to you, I don’t think anyone could bear the sadness of it.” She’s certainly not giving up on being his bodyguard! Nevermind the fact he’s stronger than her, that doesn’t matter; what does matter is protecting him. Protecting the link she has to sanity and home. Protecting her friend. “I hate to say it, but... As far as I know, it’s only the two of us here. I haven’t found anyone else from our army...” If there’s one thing she hates, it’s being the bearer of bad news. No matter what she privately thinks (privately fears), she’s got to keep his spirits up! 

“Even so! This is such a vast place, I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of searching it! I’m sure we’ll find them, just like how I found you! And we’ll all be together again, and find a way home.” She’s not sure at all, of course she isn’t; but it’s her job to make sure no one else feels that way. Especially not him, their gentle and strong leader. 

She’s sure their situation is weighing too heavily on Seliph, and Lene doesn’t like the thought of that -- he’s got so much weight on his shoulders as it is. So, at his next gesture, she places the back of her hand on her forehead and swoons. “I cannot look directly at such a dazzling smile!” She mock-laments, dropping to her knees in an entirely over-theatrical fashion. If it doesn’t embarrass him, it’ll at least make him laugh (she hopes), and then they can approach their next steps with lighter hearts. “My Prince, you honour this lowly dancer with your kind words! I’ll do my very best as your new right-hand woman! My apologies to Sir Oifaye and Sir Lewyn, for I have stolen their positions in one fell swoop!” After a moment, she cracks an eye open, and grins.

“How’s that for a nightmare for you? This doesn’t seem so bad anymore, does it!”

[yearningsands-blog]

@lunarbraced liked for a starter!

If there’s one thing Lene hates, it’s when disgusting men watch her dance, but she can deal with it. If she loses herself in her performance, she can ignore it. It’s simply what she’s always had to do. What she can’t abide by, under any circumstance, is anyone else suffering dealing with them. Not where Lene can see it. Not where she can stop it. 

He’s not much of a threat, but he’s unpleasant, and that’s enough for Lene to hate him. He’s been wolf-whistling, making bawdy comments and the like, but to her it’s fine. Now, unlucky for him, he’s made the mistake of cornering a member of her audience -- a girl (woman?) who looks as pretty as a jewel, and Lene will not stand for it. 

The dance stops; Lene advances. He doesn’t appear to have done anything but she knows his type; the cheek of him, in broad daylight, hitting on a girl who’s clearly uncomfortable! An oncoming storm, she places herself very firmly between the interloper and the lady, folding her arms and scowling.

“Dear sir,” Her tone is venomous with her fury. “If you’re so intent on finding company for yourself, might I suggest you take up residence with rats instead? I’m sure they’re much more on your level than the lady here,” Unsurprisingly, he shrinks; he’s got the whole crowd looking at him now, after all. He won’t dare do anything like this. Satisfied, Lene takes a step back, and links her arm with the woman. “Hermina here and I will be taking our leave of you now, sir. Don’t ever let me catch you near her, or you can say goodbye to ever seeing the sun rise again!” 

Perhaps a little forcefully, she begins walking, bringing the woman along with her. It’s not until she rounds a corner and brings them out of eyeshot of the man does she let go, and immediately her furious expression turns to concern.

“Are you alright, miss? I’m so sorry for making such a fuss -- I couldn’t stand the thought of that little rat trying anything on you,” She huffs angrily, clenching her fists. “Gods, I can’t stand his ilk. You let me know right now what he said to you and I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of him to go to hell with!”

[yearningsands-blog]

@eyebrand liked for a starter!

“Order whatever you like! My treat.”

Cotes Ward, late afternoon. It’s a far cry away from Lene’s new housing (not home, never home), but she’s nothing if not resourceful. A dancer will never get the most coin if she stays in one place, after all! Coin means security, and security means she won’t literally start tearing her hair out from the stress. A dancer can’t be going around looking anything less that soft and beautiful, if she’s to succeed. 

Unfortunately it means some people think they can just make off with her coin -- and her shawl! In the middle of a performance no less! Just thinking about the nerve of it almost dampens her mood again, but she forces herself back to brightness. The reason she’s here in this... ‘Coffee shop’, she’s come to understand it as, is because someone had -- very valiantly, in her opinion -- come to her aid. The (very pretty!) girl had knocked the robber flat in no time at all, the least Lene can do is thank her for her troubles.

“I really can’t say thank you enough,” She continues as they wait their turn. The girl has beautiful hair, so long and blue like Prince Seliph’s, she can’t help but feel immediately comfortable. A stranger reminding her of home is nice, in a sense. “I understand that people have to resort to such things to survive, but I work hard, you know? Dancing isn’t easy!” A short laugh accompanies her words, and she pushes her hair behind her ear. “I never introduced myself, did I? My name is Lene. I’m a dancer from Darna, in Jugdral.”

“And you? I’d at least like to know the name of the hero I’m ordering for!” This time, her words are highlighted by a playful wink. She does very much want her hero to think she was worth helping out!

[yearningsands-blog]

about mother & family

lene’s dream, the thing she wants more than anything else, is to find her mother and dance with her. her whole life has been in pursuit of that goal; from the moment she obtained the only clue about her mother, her whole life has been devoted to that dream.

if her reputation grows enough, it’s her hope that one day her mother will hear about her and come for her.

that said... it’s something she wonders if it might be better off staying a dream. her mother could be completely different to the mother who loves her, but had to leave her, she’s dreamed up...

because lene knows what it feels like to be lonely, she’s very protective of children who have been through similar things to her. she’ll happily become the family of other orphans, and in turn, that would give her a glimpse of what she’s been dreaming of all her life

in a post-canon verse, she’d feel a lot of jealousy towards patty and febail. they’d lost their mother just like her, but unlike her they’ve been allowed by the gods to meet her again

if she had any smidgen of a clue as to who her father is, she’d pursue him with the exact same intensity. 

in the same vein, if she knew about her relation to coirpre, she’d be incredibly overprotective of him.

[yearningsands-blog]

@hydenseeked liked for a starter!

Things have calmed down since that... Whatever it was that happened. Lene is, at least, finding herself more comfortable with whatever this new life means for her. None of her questions have been answered, none of her belongings are back, but mentally speaking, she’s starting to acclimate. That’s the best she can do, at present.

What bothers her, though is... Well, the fact she’s never actually seen the two men who helped her survive since the whole event came to an end. She didn’t even get to thank them! ... Or tell them both off for being reckless weidos. She’s not quite sure which yet. She’ll deal with that when she comes to it.

The dance comes to a close, with an elegant bow. The crowd around her clap appropriately, and disperse when she does not immediately begin a new rhythm. She doesn’t feel much up to dancing right now, unusual as that is. 

Maybe she’d had some sort of premonition, as if Father Bragi himself were guiding her instincts, because as soon as she lifts her head, she meets a pair of meek green eyes that are immediately familiar.

“It’s you!” Whatever remains of the crowd are now gone, as Lene immediately leaps to her feet to corner the blonde man. She’s significantly shorter than him, but she hopes her full height is at least somewhat intimidating. 

“I know you helped me, and I’m grateful for that, but what in the name of the gods were you thinking charging at that thing?!” Okay, she’s going with a scolding. Hands on her hips, full pout on her face, she shoots the most disapproving glare she can possibly manage at him. “You could have been killed so easily! Your life has value, you’d make your mother cry by throwing it away like that! What kind of lunatic are you? A-and also! How did you change your hairstyle so fast on a battlefield?!”

You’ve got some explaining to do, dear Doctor...

[yearningsands-blog]

@ofaskr liked for a starter!

“You’re a natural, Princess!”

It’s peaceful in Askr, as much as it can be. It might not be true peace, but Lene will take this over the child hunts and darkness of her home. Askr, to Lene, is a sort of paradise that she had only ever heard of from the kind Sisters who whispered fairytales to the orphans of Darna when Bramsel’s men lurked in the darkness. 

If Askr is a fairytale, then Sharena is the very definition of “princess” Lene’s grown up with. Pretty, kind, warm -- the whole package! What’s more, she’d like to be friends with her! She might not be a stranger to fighting alongside royalty, but it still means a great deal to her, that a no-name such as herself could be wanted by someone so high above her. Sharena is special the way Prince Seliph is, she thinks.

With all that said, she’d been overjoyed that Sharena had wanted to spend time with her, even moreso that she was interested in learning Lene’s craft! And so, this is where she finds herself; perched on a little wall in the courtyard of the palace, clapping her hands in time to a rhythm as the Princess finishes the steps she’s taught her. Beaming, she vaults lightly off her spot, and all but skips over to her to grasp her hands in pride.

“Have you ever thought about taking up dancing?” She continues brightly. “I think you’d be great! Oh, I’ve got the perfect idea for an outfit for you-- Ahem,” Down, Lene. She takes a moment to gather herself, lest she scare her potential new recruit off. “Before I get into that: what did you think? Did you have fun doing it? That’s the most important part!”

Yes, Sharena doesn’t have to shoulder the nasty side of dance. Lene will make sure she never has to. Princesses like her should never have to face that sort of fate; Princesses like Sharena should always be truly smiling!

[yearningsands-blog]

replies coming soon, but as i don’t have much to work on: small starter call! both isola and indies welcome! additionally: my rules page was a little barren so i have updated it thusly!

[yearningsands-blog]

One Word Writing Prompts

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🌀 for a random number instead.

01. — first 02. — kiss 03. — final 04. — numb 05. — broken 06. — wings 07. — melody 08. — rules 09. — chocolate 10. — nostalgia 11. — heartbeat 12. — stranger 13. — confusion 14. — bitter 15. — afterlife 16. — daybreak 17. — audience 18. — endless 19. — fireworks 20. — wishing 21. — birthday 22. — tomorrow 23. — oppression 24. — agony 25. — return 26. — protection 27. — boxes 28. — hope 29. — preparation 30. — beautiful 31. — lies 32. — underneath 33. — hide 34. — diary 35. — unforeseen 36. — conditional 37. — gone 38. — clear 39. — heartache 40. — wired 41. — insanity 42. — foolish 43. — words 44. — study 45. — love 46. — skies 47. — stars 48. — lucky 49. — shake 50. — punctual

[yearningsands-blog]

Tea orange, acacia, sanguine, atoll!

tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?

It’s cliche, and obvious, but Lene has always let her gaze linger just a little bit longer on seeing children with their parents. Her situation isn’t exactly a rare one, not since the Empire came into power. But she can’t help but feel jealous when she sees a child being held by their parent. 

Lene doesn’t believe her mother left her willingly. If she’d been unwanted, why would her mother have left her the Safeguard? If that’s not a prayer to keep Lene safe, what is? And that’s why, every time she sees a family, that wish to find her own grows a little stronger. 

acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?

Lene’s hard-pressed to say she hates many people, but those that she does, she hates because they’ve crossed a line that can never be uncrossed. First and foremost, her hatred for her lecherous patrons, for both her sake and the sake of other girls they might have harmed. She hates those who hurt her friends, and hates those that go after the innocent. She hates those who betray other people’s trust in them, and she hates the thought of being betrayed herself. 

sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?

Lene’s outlook on life is very much “one day at a time”. Even though her demeanour is bright, her actual views are realistic, maybe depressingly so at times. Lene’s dealt with the dirt of the world firsthand, after all, and she’ll never disillusion herself into believing that they don’t exist, or will eventually fade out.

Since joining the Liberation Army, though, she’s cheered up palpably. Her companions give her comfort, and she’s beginning to think that just maybe, it’s okay to hope for a little bit more.

atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?

She has no way of actually knowing where it is, but if she could ever find it out, Lene would like to visit the place she was born. Even though she’s called Darna home, she’d been told she’d already been a toddler when her mother left her there. If she could visit the place that she could call her homeland, she’d go there in a heartbeat, no matter whether it’s a few steps away, or across the seas. Any link to her mother, any link to where she comes from, is worth more than gold in its significance to her.

[yearningsands-blog]

Come home…

[yearningsands-blog]

my literal kingdom for members of lene’s family