love in, love out

like poppies

[auclairs]

✫ ryne rp blog ✫ dash only ✫ no icons, low activity ✫ she is baby ✫ im tau

[auclairs]

would u play the sims w/ her

[drachenblood]

estinien do you want to borrow the pink glitter gel pen or the purple glitter gel pen

 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐬:  what  in  the  Fury’s  name  is  a  gel  pen?  And  receives  his  answer  moments  later  when  she  holds  them  aloft,  both  in  the  colors  she’d  indicated.  Writing  utensils  of  a  sort,  though  the  likes  of  which  he’s  not  seen  ‘til  now.  More  tokens  she’d  somehow  managed  to  smuggle  from  that  distant  realm  of  hers?  He’d  not  know.  Nor  can  he  grasp  the  conclusion  to  which  she’d  come  that  he  would  desire  either.  

‘Tis  not  as  if  he’d  ever  been  seen  writing.  A  missive  or  two  here  and  there  to  be  sent  home  to  Ishgard  and  only  in  the  privacy  of  his  chambers,  mayhap.  One  blessing  among  many  of  having  retired  the  title  and  duties  of  the  Azure  Dragoon  was  that  he  no  longer  needed  to  fill  reports,  of  which  he’d  done  sparingly  at  best.  Thus  the  need  to  pick  up  pen  and  paper  had  diminished  to  next  to  nothing.  

 He  stares  at  his  choices,  at  rejection  or  to  play  along  as  seems  to  be  his  fate  when  somehow  he’s  managed  to  find  himself  in  situations  like  these  far  too  often.  Something  of  her  smile  and  knowing  of  her  story  has  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  refuse.  Testament  to  the  fact  that  he  very  likely  would  be  a  poor  father.  Thank  the  Fury  for  small  blessings  at  least.  

There’s  a  sigh  and  he  holds  out  his  hand,  resigned  to  his  fate.   ❝ The  purple  one. ❞  

[auclairs]

elmo = small and red and babie ryne = small and red and also babie

conclusion: ryne is elmo

[auclairs]

hi sweaty it’s called fashion!!!!!!!!!

[livory]

hc; ryne

i. ran’jit

this is a pretty tough one. i have a lot of conflicting feelings about ran’jit and separately, so does ryne. as a sharp and empathetic young lady, she’s more than capable of sympathizing with a person’s hurts and condemning their wrongs simultaneously (a skill she learned from thancred.) she’s got a lot of resentment toward the man who kept her effectively caged, and anger for the childhood she was robbed of. mostly, though, thinking about ran’jit just makes her feel sad.

she’s sad for every minfilia that died; that died in the arms of a man who reared them and loved them like a father; that died due in part to that father figure, whom they trusted, who sharpened them like blades and marched them out to war; that died for a world that made weapons from children and never said we’re sorry. she pities ran’jit, who watched them all go. who was lucky if he was able to recover any remains, pieces of them to bury because so many were completely crushed, devoured, destroyed. she feels guilt for being the only one who ever got to know a different way of life, past the bounds of battlefields and beautified jail cells.

it makes her feel sad to think about ran’jit. makes her feel cheated, makes her feel like she’s cheated the dozens of girls who came before her. she tries not to dwell on it.

[auclairs]

[auclairs]

ryne stands silently with a cryptic expression on her face. she seems to be curious about your minion.

[burnishedglory]

He has a Nutkin out and he isn’t a stranger to the way she’s gawking at it.

[auclairs]

ryne stands silently with a cryptic expression on her face. she seems to be curious about your minion.

[auclairs]

ryne vc oh my gosh i have to protect and uplift trans men (runs into traffic)

[auclairs]

happy thancred father’s day

[auclairs]

ryne doesn’t “like-like” boys she only “like-likes” girls

[higans]

𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙿𝙷𝙸𝙰 𝙷𝙾𝙽𝙴𝚈 - 𝙼𝙾𝙾𝙽.   […] with a skewered heart in the centre.   original character , by lucy.

[auclairs]

I FORGOT TO REDOWNLOAD XKIT

[auclairs]

hiraesi; here.

“not very well,” ryne admits. “but it’s all a bit rusted so when i tried to take it off it got a little... stuck.” she tries to flip up the visor, which doesn’t budge an ilm.

in truth, she’s a little grateful the for the immovable helmet. it hides her embarrassed expression. “i’m not off to a very good start, am i?”

[auclairs]

referentblood; here.

the helmet comes off with a bit of persistent twisting. “alright. it’s pretty sweaty to wear, anyway.” she tucks the article under one metallic arm. “i just wanted to come prepared.”

a moment of hesitation. “and no one actually let me in. i snuck. sorry. i fully intend to return what i borrowed, you understand.”

[auclairs]

clemencied; here.

“did i get the wrong thing?” as much as she’s standing right in front of him, it sure sounds like her voice is reverberating up from the depths of some cave. “the mord merchant i bought it from did let me have it for a steal. maybe i should’ve been less thrifty.”