TO DIE OF LOVE IS TO LIVE BY IT @askrena - Tumblr Blog

#ASKRENA: an affiliated sharena rp blog, summoned by mik (20, they/them, gmt +8). fighting for lasting peace with love as our spear. rules and portrayal notes may be found under the cut!

#JUST CALL ME SWAGRENA — ooc

represaille

revue of worlds

distress: authority +1

represaille

The enigmatic director had assured that no matter what they decided to do, as long as it made for a good show, all could be forgiven. Inexperience could be supplanted with passion so long as it created a truly one of a kind performance.

Sing, dance, and battle are the only instructions given.

It sounds like a pipe dream to think such a slapdash performance between two rookies would ever be up to the level of a professional director. There is no script, no stage directions—only a star studded cloak provided by the costume department, shamelessly tailored in the same style as a rival opera house.

(D'Silva's costume department is rather underfunded, they had admitted sheepishly during the fitting. Sponsors are reluctant to invest... for more or less obvious reasons.)

Nel steps up to the T shaped mark on the floor, lance in hand. Her opponent (fellow actor) is vaguely familiar; not from her own world, but as a Bond Ring from another world.

As soon as the tip of her lance taps the floor, the stage lights whir to life and swing around to illuminate Nel's half of the stage. The stagehands have decorated her half as a desolate land in which all life has rotted and decayed. The fake grass underneath her feet crunches with every shift of her weight.

"In my world, there is no longer anything left. Everything I have held close to me now either rests eternally or lives on in a world that is not our own."

She twirls her lance.

"I, Nel, will be your opposition. This may be a stage, but I will use my full strength. Prepare yourself accordingly."

@askrena

askrena

She's never taken to theater despite her own confidence. Such a fact surprises most people—Sharena is a girl who wears her feelings clear on her sleeves, oiled onto her pauldrons, and sewn into the hems of her skirt. Emotion clings onto her face like plantlife taking root. The natural course of action was to take her to the stage. Yet she doesn't do it. She doesn't do acting, she doesn't do facades. She is unused to all the attention. For better or for worse, she hasn't had many people look intently her way. It makes her feel strange, being watched, as though she charged into battle with no weapons. In any case, the Askran has avoided taking part in it all her life until now.

She had been roped into the production, for the most part. Helping the technical team initially, the strange director had suddenly asked her to fill in a larger, more visible role. Sharena had attempted to protest—meekly, as a started mouse might squeak out opposition—but the vision this man had was prioritized over whatever comfort Sharena was owed.

Now, here she stands, shrinking into her red cape, the golden clasp that keeps it hanging around her shoulder gleaming almost diabolically. A click of the lights shines a bright white beam on her side of the stage, a mirror of her partner's, except much more alive. The grass' turf was green and interspersed with fake flowers, and the backdrop was of an idyllic, meadowland scene. It should be easy enough playing the role of someone's happier opposite, but expectation still settles nervously in emerald eyes. Her partner seems a natural for her role, declaring her name and challenge in a steady, paced tone. Sharena, meanwhile, feels the nerves clawing at her skin, sending tremors through her knuckles and into the prop lance she holds. How should she manage without a script? The more she thinks about what to say, the worse she feels she'll do. The only emotion that bares itself now is complete and utter insecurity.

"In my world…" she begins tersely, the task of describing Askr not so much difficult as it is entirely overwhelming, "in my world, when we have nothing left, we find a way forward."

She turns to her partner, still too hesitant to look resolute. But Sharena continues speaking, "There is no such thing as a doomed fate. If this is your past, then allow me to open a way to the future!"

Sharena spins her lance around her fingers, the motion so familiar so as to ease some of her neverse. She plants its shaft into the ground with a loud thud, hoping the impact could replace the assertion she lacks.

"I am Sharena, and I won't back down. I'll win for your world and mine!"

Her words echo all throughout the theater. But before silence has a chance to settle, Sharena lifts her lance and charges forward.

#REVUE OF WORLDS — threads #((long ass reply im so sorry DJJJJKFJK))#((also okay i rolled to attack but i got a 20 and i didnt wanna spring All of That immediately on nel))#((which is why i left the ending vague... apolocheese))

b1gtimerush

actions speak louder than words non - verbal / action prompts from yours truly. (add a "swap" to swap the sender/receiver in the prompt (or just do it manually).)

back, sender gives receiver a back hug.

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger.

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver.

book, sender helps receiver get a book from a higher part of the shelf.

care, sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

catch, sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other.

choke, sender saves receiver from choking by giving them the heimlich.

cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

cry, sender wipes tears off receiver's face with their thumbs.

dance, sender sticks a hand out to receiver and invites them to dance.

dip, sender skinny dips in front of receiver and invites them to join.

dog, sender's dog pulls them in receiver's direction.

drive, sender drives receiver somewhere in their car.

drag, sender drags receiver into a room and closes the door behind them.

draw, sender draws receiver like one of their french girls.

face, sender turns receiver's face towards them.

flower, sender gives receiver a flower.

footsie, sender initiates footsie with receiver under the table.

forehead, sender presses their forehead against receiver's.

grab, sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving.

jump, sender jumps onto receiver's back.

kiss, sender kisses receiver.

link, sender links arms with receiver while walking.

massage, sender offers receiver a massage.

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds.

piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

pin, sender pins receiver's hands behind their back.

pluck, sender plucks something out of receiver's hair.

press, sender presses receiver against a wall.

propose, sender proposes to receiver.

quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet.

rest, sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder.

serenade, sender serenades receiver with a song.

sign, sender walks into a sign and receiver sees.

size, sender measures the size of their hand against receiver's.

shoes, sender removes receiver's shoes for them.

sun, sender rubs sunblock onto receiver's back.

tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo.

tie, sender helps tie receiver's tie.

tuck, sender tucks receiver's hair behind their ear.

umbrella, sender lets receiver under their umbrella.

warning, sender presses a knife against receiver's neck as a warning.

zip, sender needs receiver's help to zip up the back of their dress.

#I WANT YOU BY MY SIDE — ask meme #((haha. hey. hey. hey. h))

askrena

villainess the sequel

[ sharena & kurthnaga ]

askrena

Someone like Zacharias or Veronica would be more well-suited to this task. Sharena has far more experience opening gateways rather than closing them. It's not as if she could even if she wanted to: her god has blessed her with a different sort of power. Still, in the absence of her Emblian friends, she's willing to offer the residents of the Abyss what help she can—to open the way is to become intimately familiar with the unfamiliar. Whatever strange realm lay beyond that gate, she'd traverse through with no problem.

"Oh! By the way, Kurth, don't worry about combat if we ever come across it." Sharena points a thumb to Fensalir, strapped securely behind her back, "I've got you covered."

Ah, but despite her expertise, it certainly helps that she has a friend.

Her shared experience with Kurthnaga had been so long ago—but she would never forget him and Lady Annabelle. She still reads the book on occasion, beneath hidden lamplight on particularly lonely nights.

Their Abyssian guide leads them through the labyrinthine underground. Sharena is careful as she treads upon the brick. Something about this place made her want to be quiet, to scurry like some sneaky mouse. To leave it as undisturbed as possible. Eventually, they make it to the opened gate. It looks rather similar to the ones in Askr—an arc of stone, with a seemingly endless Abyss swirling within it. Sharena glances at Kurthnaga.

"We'll enter one by one. I'll step in first, then you can follow. It looks strange from the outside, but I promise you once you're in, it'll feel perfectly normal. Well, as normal as a realm different from this one can be, anyways."

Sharena gives him a smile. "I'll be headed in now!"

She enters the gateway, disappearing into the portal. After a moment's wait, her feet soon hit solid ground, and light floods her vision. When she looks at the world around her, with its fields of lush grass and skies of deep blue, she lets out a loud, audible gasp.

@goldoanheart

#VILLAINESS THE SEQUEL — thread #((just a bit of set up! hope u don't mind))

askrena

whimsy & wolves

[ riding +1, sharena & alfonse ]

princeofopenness

"Don't be such a worrywart" is a phrase Alfonse has heard many times in his life, though of late Sharena wasn't the only person he'd heard it from. Anna, too, had begun saying it, usually in relation to her endeavors to procure funding for the Order of Heroes-- come to think of it, those had become far more frequent since the Summoner arrived, hadn't they? Dagr, too, often said similar things, though when she said it, Alfonse usually didn't feel any less inclined not to worry. While he might be overly cautious while Sharena was around to try and balance out her optimistic outlook, he felt he was usually being the reasonable one in the room anytime Dagr insisted he ought not concern himself.

Still, the fact that she was saying it now meant his little ruse had worked. Approaching this in a roundabout way under the guise of "socializing" the pups allowed him to concede to Sharena without her realizing it. There really wasn't much of a consequence if she did, of course; trying to hide when he decided to acquiesce to Sharena was just an old habit of his, born of a failed attempt to try and discourage her from weaponizing that pleading look of hers. Alfonse still wasn't sure if Sharena knew just how much power she wielded over him, but that was likely for the best. He might never find time to slip away and spend by himself again if she did... most likely because she'd be worried he was isolating himself too much.

To be fair, Sharena wouldn't exactly be incorrect if that happened.

"I'm not sure if that's up to us," Alfonse answered. "These are the monastery's wolves, after all. Unless you plan to sneak one back to Askr, it's probably better not to give it a different name to respond to than whatever the staff here had planned. It might interfere with training in the future, especially if it begins to associate the alternate name with play or food over duty." He paused a moment, slowly realizing he had said something he probably ought not have. He didn't want to plant any bad ideas in Sharena's head, even if he had been saying it dismissively. Even so... better to cut it off now before it can really take root.

"...We're not sneaking any of them back to Askr, for the record."

askrena

"Hey! I wasn't even thinking about bringing them back to Askr!"

Sharena's cheeks puff up in a bit of a frown. Oh, her dear brother. Sometimes she feels as though he still sees her as a child. Though, perhaps her methodology for this particular assignment didn't help. Mature students would surely not course through the same sorts of actions that she was doing, right? But Sharena is Sharena, and thus would never extinguish that tongue of innocent flame that burned in her heart. This is her light—who would she be without it?

But just as nectar sweetens the flower, it also invites hunger. Hands are eager to pluck the most saccharine of blooms and sup the honeyed liquid held within. She knows her brother—and her father and mother, for that matter—only wish to protect her.

( Well, a flower can grow its own thorns. That's the reason why she came here to begin with. )

"Alright, fine. We don't have to name them. But we should still form a bond with them, shouldn't we? I mean, if we're planning on using these as mounts, it'd be best to make sure they like being around people." She laughs for a moment, "Even sticks in the mud like you!"

On cue, the wolves return to her feet. The gray one, triumphant in its stick-catching, proudly sets the branch on her feet. Sharena scratches the fur behind its neck, causing it to pant in delight. The Askran turns back to her brother, flicking a head towards the other pup.

"Come on, Alfonse. Just play with them a bit! It'll be good for both of you."

#WHIMSY AND WOLVES — thread #((THE STICK IN THE MUD COMMENT IS A /LH SHE LOVES U ALFIE))#((also it stopped being about wolves in the middle there. oops. sorry))

@princeofopenness wow, alfonse, you're strangely touchy today... are you feeling alright? you know i love you even if you don't show it, so don't feel pressured to do it for my sake. no, really, it's fine! though... if you really want to keep booping me, i wouldn't say no...

#shitpost #((prince of boopenness more like))#((i have been neglecting sharena boops im so sorry. she has booped you a thousand times in spirit))

princeofopenness

Well, there was a degree of truth to Sharena's argument, though not one Alfonse was willing to admit to. Not immediately, at least. He would come around to it later, hopefully in a manner that didn't immediately cause Sharena to point out he had given in and agreed with her. It was silly to act as though his pride were on the line when it came to playing with puppies, but Alfonse had a façade he needed to keep up. He needed to put some token effort into resisting, not for how others might view him, but entirely so that he could tell himself he tried to hold back.

"It's a place of learning, yes, but that doesn't mean we don't have responsibilities," Alfonse contended. He kept his grimace intact as best he could (quite a difficult task when surrounded by adorable wolf pups playing with each other), trying to pretend he was being stern. "We have to make sure we're doing what we're asked to, if nothing else. We wouldn't want these wolves," he made sure to stress that word to remind Sharena they weren't just dogs, "to turn out aggressive or unwilling to listen to commands."

And now he could circle back to admitting Sharena was right. Now that he had created a bit of distance from her argument and some plausible deniability, he could pretend he was just coincidentally getting to the tasks they were given, and not just giving in to that pleading look yet again. Would it convince Sharena? Probably not. She knew her brother too well.

"At any rate, these pups aren't old enough for particularly extensive training," Alfonse added. "Mostly just socializing them to people so that they'll be comfortable and friendly to humans once they've grown up."

askrena

whimsy & wolves

[ riding +1, sharena & alfonse ]

askrena

"Ah, don't be such a worrywart!" Sharena quips lightly, making a small gesture with the stick, "Wolves don't know they're wolves unless you treat them like it. They can always fight whatever animal instinct they have, right? Maybe the more we play with them, the kinder they'll be once they're grown."

This is the hope she holds in her heart—the sort of wishful thinking that she knows her brother will soon counter, but she will still cling onto anyway. This has always been their dynamic; he, the pragmatist, and her the idealist. But at the end of the day, she knows they will always want for the same things. The same peace, the same love, the same blue skies that yawn over the quiet Askr horizon. So she'll hold onto her hope while he holds onto his hesitation—come time, they will meet somewhere in the middle.

Sharena throws her stick once more, catching the attention of two pups this time. They yip and yap as they chase its arc. The pair race one another, each one eager to be the first to snag their branch-y prize. The Askran laughs at the sight of them tumbling and wrestling along.

"Do you think we can name them?" she asks Alfonse, a glimmer within the depths of her verdant eyes, "I'd like to name the gray one… Kiran!"

#WHIMSY AND WOLVES — thread

[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders (hands you this because i think a normal amount about kris's forging bonds and katarina telling sharena Everything she possibly could about him...)

five senses (accepting)

Askr's monsoon is only half as brutal—Sharena honestly can't recall the last time she's returned to shelter so soaked by the rain. It's in her hair, in her socks—she thinks some of the water might have reached even her undergarments. Thankfully, she has friends here like she does back home, and they take care of her without fuss. A fireplace is lit for her, and an unsung savior wraps a soft, woolen blanket around her shivering shoulders. The Askran smiles up at Kris, the curve of her lips wrinkling the edges of her eyes. Now here is a Hero she knows well. History may have forgotten him, but she certainly will not.

"T-Thanks, Kris." She murmurs, voice still shivering from the chill. She wraps the blanket tighter around herself, cocooning in its warmth. She scoots closer to the fireplace, feeling the heat dance on her wet skin. "I'm lucky to have you. Though I should have seen that storm coming. It was awful walking through all that!"

#LET'S GO! — inbox #((FUCK YES REN THANK YOU SO MUCH))#((are there rooms in the monastery with fire places? well. there is now))

princeofopenness

Whimsy and Wolves

Riding +1 || Puppy Time @askrena

Alfonse was stoic, certainly. He was stoic and often unyielding emotionally, much as his father before him had been. He was not, however, heartless, for better or for worse. Oftentimes, it felt like it was for worse; more than a few times, his heart had been his weakness, it seemed, with threats to the Summoner's life often making him act rashly.

This was not one of those times. When Sharena told him of the adorable wolf pups tumbling around the fields of the monastery, Alfonse had been predictably hesitant to indulge her whims. He needed the time to study and to find other her-- other students to speak to so that he could learn as much as he could while he was at Garreg Mach. Sharena, however, knew well Alfonse's weaknesses, and that she was chief among them.

A few pleading looks from his sister were all it took to make Alfonse cave, and soon enough the two were knee-deep in tumbling little fluffballs that yapped excitedly at anything in view. Even he couldn't maintain a sour expression in the midst of all of this. The only real difficulty was the little daggers in their mouths and just how willing they were to nibble on anything within reach. He might need new socks after this was over.

"Sharena, you did come here to work with the pups, right?" Alfonse sighed. "To train them? Not to just play with them, right?"

Alfonse knew the answer. He really didn't even need to ask.

askrena

"...Playing can be training, too!"

The argument marks her guilt, an indirect admission convicting her of puppy-yearning crimes. But Sharena doesn't see what's so problematic—wolf pups so young couldn't be trained properly, anyways. May as well have some fun before they tried manipulating them with some Pavlovian technique.

And so the Askran princess does exactly that. Heedless of Alfonse's hesitation, she picks up a large, hefty branch from a nearby tree and throws it at one of the pups. It lets out a loud, excited yip, running across the courtyard in pursuit of the stick. Sharena smiles as the pup picks it up in its mouth and cheerfully returns it to her. She ruffles its gray fur, cooing a little, before turning to her brother.

"Aw, c'mon Alfonse, it's not a bad idea to lighten up. Especially now that you're here!" She says, nudging him with an elbow. Though Alfonse had said naught about it, she sees how he carries his burdens. They're in his aging face, his severe frowns, his stiff shoulders. Sharena offers him the stick, now slightly moist with slobber. Here comes one of her pleading looks again—her weapon of choice when dealing with her brother."The Academy's a place for learning—we have more space to do as we please. You're allowed to have some more fun!"

#WHIMSY AND WOLVES — thread

lunememes

🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 ( prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details )

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇.

[ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 ] ― sender wraps a soft blanket around receiver’s shoulders [ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 ] ― sender and receiver fall into bed together on silk sheets [ 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender pulls receiver’s hair ( gently / hard ) [ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 ] ― sender strokes receiver’s hair [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender brushes receiver’s hair [ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender paints a picture onto part of receiver’s body ( specify what & where ) [ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender traces their fingertips over receiver’s body [ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body [ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 ] ― sender reaches out to hold receiver’s hand [ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ] ― sender worships receiver’s body

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄.

[ 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver something they’ve never tried before ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sour ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ] ― sender feeds receiver something sweet ( specify what ) [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender feeds receiver something spicy ( specify what ) [ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender kisses receiver to taste the lingering flavour of what they ate or drank on their lips ( specify what ) [ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood [ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 ] ― sender feeds receiver soup when they’ve fallen ill [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try [ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender cooks receiver their favourite meal [ 𝐓𝐑𝐘 ] ― sender gives receiver a taste of what they’re cooking / baking for their opinion

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 ] ― sender blindfolds receiver [ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver see each other again after a period of being apart [ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender notices something different about receiver ( injury / haircut / tattoo / piercing / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 ] ― sender greets receiver in formal partywear ( feel free to add detail ) [ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 ] ― sender takes receiver to see lanterns in the sky [ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender and receiver lay under the stars to stargaze [ 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ] ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room [ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender and receiver see a shadow move out the corner of their eye [ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ] ― sender and receive watch as something burns ( candles / a building / a campfire / etc ) [ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.

[ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver [ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ] ― sender plays receiver their favourite song on an instrument ( specify what ) [ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ] ― sender and receiver are in bed together while rain lashes against the windows / tent / etc [ 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender whispers something in receiver’s ear ( specify what ) [ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender asks receiver for a dance upon hearing a song [ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver hear a sound when they should be alone ( footsteps / creaking floorboards / a scream / etc ) [ 𝐇𝐔𝐌 ] ― sender hums a lullaby to lull receiver to sleep [ 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐃 ] ― sender comforts a temporally deaf receiver after a loud sound ( gunshot / explosion / etc ) [ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place [ 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender and receiver hear a muffled sound from another room / outside ( music / people / creature / etc ) [ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them

𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋.

[ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇 ] ― sender puts a scented bath bomb into receiver’s bath [ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 ] ― sender lights a scented candle for receiver [ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― sender puts perfume / aftershave on receiver’s ( wrist / neck / cheek ) [ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 ] ― sender inhales receiver’s scent [ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by receiver’s cooking [ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ] ― sender steals an item of receiver’s clothes because it smells like them [ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ] ― sender notices receiver smells of their shampoo / shower gel [ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 ] ― sender gives receiver flowers [ 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇 ] ― sender helps clean receiver after a long day / stressful situation [ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 ] ― sender and receiver walk through the sewers to escape capture / avoid detection / chase someone [ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ] ― sender massages receiver with a scented oil

#I WANT YOU BY MY SIDE — ask meme #((still figuring out what plots i want from the mission board so in the meantime... lets have this!))

post separator wahwhahwhahwhawahhwah

ouuuuuh u wanna ignore whats below this so bad

#JUST CALL ME SWAGRENA — ooc

left beef or right beef

ulircursed:

“Andrei,” he said in reply, the apron hanging limply in his hands after he’d automatically accepted it from Sharena, too distracted by her words to think to refuse. He looked down at all its light-blue, slightly frilly glory. At the phrase ‘Made with Love’, as well as the large pink heart, all stitched across its front in overly flowery needlework that must have taken an unnecessarily long time.

…Must he wear this?

But the girl — who looks, honestly, much too chipper for the menial task they had been handed — seemed ready to proceed, her similarly over-embellished apron tied around her, and so he decided to simply not make a big deal out of it. It was better this than ruining his clothing, with how difficult it would be to find decent replacement while in his current abode. He’d dealt with worse. This would not kill him.

(It killed his pride, a little.)

Gritting his teeth, Andrei pulled the loops around his neck, tying the ribbon at his back in rushed motions, determined to simply get this over with. “And I… have not,” he answered her previous question reluctantly after a slight pause, figuring anything less than the truth would only complicate matters for both of them later on.

With all unpleasant but necessary concessions hopefully done, he moved to stand next to her at the counter, fixing her with a glare apropos of nothing. “But do not assume that I will be completely inept,” he warned, even though he had little evidence to show to suggest otherwise, “I will do what I must to complete this task.”

HIS NAME CONFIRMS THE thought that they've yet to meet before. It's all the better, then— Sharena loves making new friends! Especially when they wore the same sorts of frowns that he did. There was no better feeling than seeing smiles peek out, like sun from clouds of rain; and no better way to usher that sunlight than a fun time at the kitchen.

"Looking good, Andrei. Our pizza’ll be made with love, too!" she says when she is graced with his visage, her quip only half-teasing. The joy wrought in the curve of her lip is fully-meant, though, and doesn't dampen even in the face of the severe look he throws her way.

"Hey, there's no need to be so serious. We're just baking!" Sharena waves a hand, "Don't worry too much about it. Really. We can always eat the failures if you worry about the waste."

She closes the matter with a reassuring smile, then works to prepare their workspace. She finds the recipe leaflet to the side of their counter and quickly thumbs through it, nodding as she reads along. Her familiarity with the dish deepens as she begins recalling it more and more, the list of ingredients supplementing her memory. Once done, she places it down on the counter and turns behind her, facing the pantry behind them. She can see most of the ingredients sitting and ready for their use, though, angling her head upwards, soon realizes that not all of them would be so easy to get. She dares to gently place a hand on Andrei's arm to get his attention, and directs it towards the storeroom with a point.

"Okay, everything we need should be in the pantry here, though…" a sheepish smile dances on her mouth, more an amusement on her own stature than a shyness at speaking with him, "can I ask you to grab the flour? I don't think I can reach, hehe."

#THREAD. left beef or right beef #SUPPORT. andrei #((THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY ERI))#((anyways the thought of andrei in that apron is sending me))#((get in the maid uniform good sir!))

something old ; something new

starter for @asphuxia <3

SHARENA RISES WITH THE SUN: THE BEAMS FILTER THROUGH her thin, linen curtains and shine on her face, beckoning eyelids to flutter open like flowers in morning bloom. The habit is a timeworn tradition, born from the early forenoons demanded by the Order. It's funny how the welcoming of a new year begins with something so old, but The Askran supposes it's only fitting. They were two sides of the same coin, after all; old and new, closed and opened, death and life.

Under the guidance of the light, she finds it within herself to awaken fully, sitting up and stretching. A few yawns escape her, remnants of a deep sleep, but after a few moments, she is alive with her usual vigor. Now is the time where would normally jump to her feet and proceed with the rest of her morning in earnest, especially as there was a celebration that demanded most of her time to prepare for. (She doesn't know why Commander Anna is so insistent they dress for this occasion— she was never one for opulence— but Sharena wouldn't dream of disobeying her soon) But there remains a certain something (someone) on her bed that she must address— with kisses, she decides.

"Eir…? Eiiiiiir…" Sharena leans over to the princess laying beside her, singing the name into her ear. Eir, in sleep, seemed fitter for a funeral pyre than a cot— the serenity of her resting face mirrored those of the denizens of Hel to an admittedly scary degree. But Sharena knows that she would wake soon. If not from the sound of her voice, then from the kiss that Sharena lovingly presses onto her forehead.

"It's time to wake up," though her voice is soft, the excitement is palpable, "we've got a big day ahead of us today!"

#THREAD. something old; something new #SUPPORT. eir #((me performing cpr on my sharena muse so she can be gay and in love (as she rightfully deserves!)))#((thank you for indulging me sirius you know these two always make me happy))#((they are so.......... domestic.....))

🎄((come get your mom kisses Sharena))

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE (not really LOL) [accepting!]

IT'S A SCENARIO THAT IS EMBARRASSING BEYOND BELIEF. CHEEKS REDDEN like ripening apples, humiliation evident in the way her fingers begin to fidget. Sharena almost doesn't mention it— she shouldn't have, in all honesty. It's nothing but the trick of a mischievous student. But the words betray her, escaping from her mouth before she can hope to stop them.

"Oh, mistletoe!"

Thus is the exclamation that seals her fate. It buries the seed for the action that must now grow. Sharena gulps, and turns to Deirdre with a nervous smile.

"Professor, er… you do know what these mean, right?” she swallows, “Um… so what you do is…"

The professor seemed a sweet woman; no doubt she would find herself confused at Sharena's actions, but she would hold no judgement. Perhaps she'd even be amused by all this. But it doesn't quell her humiliation, regardless. It might even serve to deepen it further. Still, Sharena is resolved— she started this mess, she may as well end it.

She closes her eyes and quickly plants a kiss on Deirdre's cheek. It is gentle but swift, like the sorts of kisses she'd bid her mother goodbye with. The thought of her mother makes this bearable, somewhat.

Sharena pulls away, eyes immediately turning to the ground.

"There. Um. I-I hope you didn't mind!"

#INBOX. let's go!#SUPPORT. deirdre #((LFGGGGGG))

is it THAT time of year again? no? WELL IT IS NOW!

send a 🎄for your muse and sharena to get caught under the mistletoe together!

add a 😘to clarify that it’s okay for her to kiss your muse on the lips (open to students only for comfort reasons tehehe)

#ASK MEME. i want you by my side!#((LOOK I JUST))#((SHARENA NEEDS IT OK))#((none of these will have romantic intent btw))#((unless......))#((HAH NO IM TOO WEAK-WILLED FOR IT))#OOC. just call me swagrena B)

mission imoossible

opnaskr:

askr had thought them close, closer than he was with other mortals, for what bond could be deeper than that between him and his bloodline? he frowns, not liking the strange feeling of his heart beating deeply within his chest. this was a feeling he had learned about around king lif— though he had never asked for it to be explained. it had never been given a name. if they were not lovers… they were surely still friends..?

the rest of her explanation goes out the window as askr ponders this to himself. he doesn’t even get the chance to ask her for an answer to his question, for sharena pulls him back into finding the thief— what they had originally come for.

matters of the heart were so fickle. askr manages to place an easy smile back on his face as he looks to miss sharena. this must be a mutual misunderstanding between them— askr cannot imagine that they are not friends. he would ask her later, when they were not busy finding the thief.

“you will have to teach me how to dance, i’m afraid.” he says with a sheepish grin— though it isn’t quite like his usual appearance with the way the understanding of their relationship still weighs heavy on his mind. “king lif never had the time to show me.”

SHE CAN SENSE IT, ALMOST, THE distance that wedges itself between the two of them. It's in how his smile thins, how his eyes nurse a quiet, innocent and confused sadness, like a child suddenly made to grow up. She recognizes this feeling. She's borne it herself. She only offers him a look of consolation. He will have to understand in time— the mistake was hers to begin with.

She leads him towards the center, drowning the two of them within the polyphony of ballgoers. "I'll be happy to show you," she chirps. Perhaps this would be enough, for now.

"Here, Lord Askr." a spot opens up where other dancers move away, a glint of marble rising from the sea of boots and clicking heels. She plants him firmly within the shifting emptiness. She places her hands on his shoulders (or rather, his elbows; their heights truly are at odds with each other), and guides his to her hip.

"We'll start with the basic steps. Just move along like this! One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four…"

Sharena's feet move in match time to the muttered rhythm, hips swaying ever-slightly. All the while, she endeavors to move him with her, clasped hands tugging him along. Their constant hum of their tandem footfalls blends into the tedium of others', colliding into a rainstorm of thuds and light string music. It grows monotonous enough to turn quiet; and quiet enough to force Sharena back into her thoughts.

Shame worms its way into her heart. Strange, strange shame. Her gaze lands on Askr, then bows back down. What happened to trying to give him a wonderful time at the ball? She had abandoned her pursuit— why? Who exactly was she trying to please? Eyes look up to her partner, clouded with thought. But trying to befriend the god had felt equally humiliating to her. Equally shameful, and equally unnerving. In this garden of forking paths, which was best to take? She doesn't know. Not when every path was lined with brambles.

…But some thorn bushes have flowers, don't they?

Her gaze wanders, absently scanning the area beyond Askr. The smiles she can see are wide and toothy. An innocent joy. The sort that had once shone in Askr’s eyes. Sharena sighs.

"Lord Askr, I think I should— Oh, wait!" she starts, before suddenly gasping. There, stark in the corner of her sight, a figure dashes through the crowd, a canvas bag tucked tight in their arms. They zip through the sea ballgoers, too deep into their revelry to notice. Sharena fumbles around for her purse, feeling for the dagger she had hidden within it.

"Lord Askr, W-we have to go," she whispers, hastily urging him towards the direction of their culprit, "the thief, they're— they're right there!"

#THREAD. mission imoossible #SUPPORT. askr #((man i am so fucking out of it i almost rbed the wrong thing. Twice))#((anyways woe!!! woe!!! askrans upon ye))#((i just think it's so interesting exploring this part of... ig the human mind))#((the conflict between what we're raised to do vs what we want to do))#((and how that springs up in certain situations regardless of how sure we are of ourselves))#((anyways!))#((dunno how well i've been expressing that in this thread but. here it is))#((development *dunks sharena in hoop*))

[ CARVING ] With the spring harvest comes an abundance of turnips. So many that merchants have brought them to Garreg Mach by the bushel to sell them for Midsommar. Once believed to ward demons and other monsters away if one carved a face into them, the turnip carving tradition is now little more than a fun activity for children to do with their parents.

Roy was attempting to carve the silhouette of a dragon into the turnip, and he had to admit it was coming along rather well. He carefully chipped at the webbed outline of wings, concentrating hard. He looked up to see Sharena next to him.

"Oh, Sharena! What are you going to carve?"

midsommar 2022

THE KNIFE CUTS THROUGH THE ROOT with care, each kiss of the blade against the vegetable pressed with caution. The shape is slow to take form under her careful guidance, but with time and persistent, loving effort, its true self is revealed. Sharena hums as she cleaves away the final pieces, satisfied with her work. She turns to Roy, thus, and holds it in her palm for him to see.

"Oh, I was making a cow. Look!"

And there it rests, sitting atop the center of her open hand; a small, chunky creature of bovine origin. Its hooves are tucked beneath its body as it sleeps, its carved-out eyes heavy with rest. Sharena strokes its back with her finger, laughing quietly to herself.

"I think it looks pretty good. A bit clunky, but cute!"

She peers over to look at Roy's own work, gasping at the detail. His seemed to be a far more faithful recreation to what he envisioned, though far more taxing than hers, what with how he seemed so absorbed in his task.

"Hey, you're doing great!" Sharena chirps, before looking down at her lumpy-in-comparison cow, "Maybe I should add more polish to mine…"

#INBOX. by your side!#SUPPORT. roy #toamidsommar2022 #((ty!!!))

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TO DIE OF LOVE IS TO LIVE BY IT