Just your friendly neighborhood young bun dragoon. Stabby-stick ready, down to clown & always assisting smols. Don't annoy her, she will uppies anyone shorter. carrd
// dossier.
Name: Ruhwy Ysana of House Dal Raiko
Age: 25
Nameday: 7月21日
Race: Viera (Rava)
Gender: Female
Orientation: Bi(?)
Alignment: Neutral Good???
Relationship Status: Non....committal, but should the right person keep her attention for more than a moment.
// physical.
Hair: Sage green with light ends, wild- barely tamed in a ponytail
Eyes: Cool gold, a smudge of dark makeup
Height: 6"/183cm
Build: Athletic, lithe, model standard
Notable marks: Diagonal scar across both shoulder blades, stab wound scar beneath ribs front/back, one mole beneath left eye, twin moles below right eyebrow end
// notes.
Profession: Heiress. Dragoon.
Hobbies: Following her curiosity. Bar/cafe lounging, shopping,
sparring, live music
Residence: Temporarily, at the Advarithi manor
Birthplace: Hingashi, right outside of Kugane proper
// relationships.
Spouse: N/A
Children: N/A
Parents: Lady Dal & Consort (info TBA)
Siblings: Younger bro (info TBA)
Other Affliations: House Advarithi's Vi'etoile (bestie) & Ildan (bro-in-arms),
// traits.
General: Observant, aloof, expressive, fun-loving, goofy, mischievous, approachable, decisive, loyal to a fault.
Detriment: Bouts of anti-social behavior, commitment- would rather not. Might/would disappear for days to...weeks at a time. Will never discuss what ails her, smiles/jokes through it all. Mildly avoidant. Violently reactive to strangers touching her person. Loyal to a fault.
// brief history.
Taken from the Wood of Golmore, she was raised in Hingashi as the heiress to a business family of renown. Feeling inadequate in simply receiving the title, she ships herself off to Gridania to further her martial training with the lance. From there, via conscription into the Dragonsong war, she refines herself into a dragoon, receiving the title of Viridian Spur for her efforts. Attempting to learn about her vieran heritage takes her back to Golmore where she is left wanting, spurned. Dejected, Raiko finds herself licking proverbial wounds in Ishgard at the Advarithi manor among friends. Homeward is a hesitant and slow business, the page remains unturned for now.
// hooks.
Dragoon: Ganggang, fellow trainees/dragoons & cohorts, met while on duty, Ishgard at large.
House Dal: Childhood friends, House & ryokan affiliates, Hingan associates.
Viera: A big gaping hole in her familiarity, she yearns to learn but is having trouble connecting with any knowledge worth it's weight. Before her last dragoon mission, she will meet with optimism and unabated curiosity. After her last dragoon mission, cautious and shielded.
Travel: Considerable time spent in Hingashi, Gridania & Ishgard. Passing through other spaces at some point, meeting while on the road.
Yaho! I'm Maru (30+). 21+ only please. JST/GMT+9. Generally mirroring posts, mini-para, disinclined to erp (fade to black is preferred & only if coinciding in plot), mature themes AOK, let's discuss! Pre-existing history, let's discuss! While Raiko is rather jovial externally, there's a lot she hides under a smile and joke. Cheers! Happy RPing!
Roughly, the back of her wrist smudged the tears, face set and grim. Another argument. Why wouldn’t Baba just tell her to begin with? Why had they withheld this story? Swallowing down the dry bitterness, learning about things that should have never been kept from her. It was her right- to know the truth. Her truth.
But the puzzle pieces seemed to rotate and slowly slot into their places with this new information. Perspective skewed as things made sense now. How Baba- who felt so distant a father was never her actual father. Instead, he was her mother’s twin. Her birth mother, a viera of Golmore Jungle in distant Othard. Ryuwon held no connection to her despite it all. The woman she looked up to, emulated, followed in footsteps. The ground turned to sand beneath her feet, the foundation of her life dissolving into the unknown. Why was she here in this place?
Shaky breath exhaled, mental anguish interrupted by her favorite nemesis. Could she not have one moment of peace to unravel? Was no place sacred for solitude?
“Can you have your mental breakdown elsewhere?” lazy glance sliding down from the tree bough he was catnapping in, her sudden weepy appearance an inconvenience. Jumping down, teal eyes peered down the almost two ilms of height advantage he had on her. Even in terms of physicality they competed but this was unequal footing. He’d never seen that face on her. This was a hurt he hadn’t inflicted and it set off a defensiveness within. Who would do this if not him? Who had the audacity to damage his punching bag? She was too quiet, too withdrawn- retreating instead of engaging per usual. Absolutely not. Holding out his arms to stop her sidestepping away from him, a nervous smile twitched on his face. What happened to the Raiko that had graciously gifted him an open-handed slap to his face just last week at his seventeenth nameday party?
“Leave me be, Eizo.” voice hitching, his name sounded different. A twinge snapped somewhere in his brain and he’d learn later that this was the start of his lifelong addiction. Her weakened state and that it was his alone to witness. Fine hairs on his neck stood on end. The sight of a tear-stained face, brows arched up, unable to catch her breath. Oh…
“It’s too late, y’know. I’ve already seen you. Might as well get it all out,” offering with a softness that was wholly foreign coming from the Kiriyama.
Overwhelmed with her own thoughts, this problem was now pushing her beyond the limits of what she was able to shove down and hide. He was right, he is here, now, seeing her in such a state of mess. And there was no undoing a memory written. Grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around to face away, just in time for her face to crumple into quiet sobs. Fistfuls of his shirt digging bluntly into his back, head bowed shoulders wracked. Pressing the top of her head between his shoulderblades, her ears back against her scalp. What was a gal to do when the world as she knew was never hers? That this place was not inherently home?
That it was just a lie?
Amma had protested, firmly stating that she was still her heir no matter the situation. That while it was unfortunate that things had transpired in the way they did, Raiko- no Ruwhy, would always be her daughter no matter the heart of truth. Hormonal, emotional and not yet mature enough to safely digest the information, the teenager did what many others were prone to do- run out of the suffocating air of the house. Alas, just to stumble into the one person she detested.
Who knew how many eons had passed by before she released her grip on him and backed away, the overwhelmed senses finally ebbing away. For that moment, her personal woe was greater than anything else. The sound of waves reached her ears, puffy eyes finally processing they were at one of the few trees near the beaches. Throat sore from swallowing down her emotions whole, golden eyes rested resolutely on the horizon. Plans began to brew beneath that mantle of unruly sage hair.
Looking her over fully, she was coming back to herself. The overflow of emotion had displaced enough. Disappointing. Leaning his face down a touch forcing her gaze towards him, calloused hands took her damp face and thumbs roughly smudged the fresh rivulets away. Brows knit in confusion, revulsion, long ears snapped back against her scalp.
“I don't want people thinking I did this. I don't like my rivals appearing weak. How does that make me look?” Characteristic of his narcissism, with only a shade of intent behind it. Wrenching her face away, a hand goes to wipe the remaining moisture away- along with the warmth of his touch.
“You were never my rival.” spat out with a finality that left him flabbergasted. They were not the same but the sentiment did translate elsewhere for Eizo. Did she never consider them competition? Did she not have the same fighting spirit to be the top that he did? Sure there was something. The desperation he felt in what was akin to a thread snipped, grasping at the end to hold. No- they had to be rivals, it meant they were at the same level, vying to come out on top. They had to have some connection. Father had always pitted her achievements and accolades against him. Peers gravitated in equal measure. They were even the same age and height! How much more direct could a competition be?
Numb, weighed down by the ornaments digging into her scalp, Raiko’s gaze seemed without life as it remained on studying the woodgrain of the low table she was seated at. Beside her was Baba, hands opening and shutting in nervous fists beside her. Amma at the head of the table across from Kiriyama Kinzou. Beside him, a smiling wife and directly across, one Eizo staring daggers into her green head willing her to meet his gaze. She was sure if she looked anywhere in this room, her heart would explode out of her chest and run away. Shackled in this kimono, the makeup, this society, disassociating to prevent a panic attack, it would take a moment to hear her name called by Amma.
“Ruhwy-” with a hint of concern, that if she chose, this whole ordeal could be called off. Baba slowly reached out to touch the girl’s hand, hoping to share his concern and agreement. All she had to do was tell them.
Shaking a small smile back onto her face, the dimples rising a hint, “No, I’d be honored to join our families.” Ryuwon’s heart sank, the subtle arch in her brows the indicator of emotion threatening to break through. How resolute she sounded. How could this child of barely seventeen agree to a life of compliance in their world? With her wild tendencies, for what reason?
“You will agree to let her go abroad to manage her studies as it was planned prior to this arrangement. Ceremonies and planning may commence upon her return to Kugane but not a moment before then.” stern, non-negotiable terms on the table.
Back slipping more and more into a slouch as the obi offered little leeway, various details were discussed between the parents, the ones to be betrothed no input requested or required.
“I’m sorry, might I step out for a moment to stretch my legs?” interrupting, feeling herself well up with overwhelming dread. Kinzou and his wife nodded with assurance- calling for Eizo to escort her to a pavilion in the back gardens. The view and air was good there.
Wordlessly, he led her along their engawa towards the outbuilding at the end of the stone path. Holding onto the banister, she allowed him to slip zori onto her socked feet before assisting her off of the wooden walkway and onto the walking stones. Body on automatic, she couldn’t find the energy to fight every notion- not while they were in his home. It would reflect poorly on her family. Once out of earshot, the two take opposite sides of the gazebo by habit. Leaning his back against the railing, arms slipping into sleeves, watching her every motion. Stepping out of the shoes, she stands in her socks on the cool floor, trying to ground herself. Exhaling as if she held her breath the entire time.
“Why’d you agree to this?” not able to contain the burning questions any longer. The silence that followed felt eternal as she gathered her thoughts and forced them into words.
“This is for my family. I am paying a debt.” There was nothing in her voice. No malice, knives or snark. The ‘nothing’ gutted him- give him hatred, disgust, just something. Anything but this ennui, this defeat. Did he mean nothing in the end? Did they not share a lifetime intertwined? Eizo couldn’t accept that her hatred wasn’t as strong as his.
The silence that followed was beyond deafening. What was she thinking? And what was this about an education overseas? He wanted to ask but he knew her well enough that there would be no reply from her in time which would sate his curiosity.
Forever and a half, she slipped back into the zori and straightened her back. Long breath out, blinking and putting on a face with a little more energy. If she could get through today, everything else would be easy. Except that everything would change. Eizo followed in tow a small distance away, head clouded in thoughts.
“What d’you mean she’s gone?” half-barking at his parents, bewildered. The sending-off party was tomorrow, where could she be on this island?
“She left in the early morning. Her nanny gave up the information after she left.” mother offering gently. They knew the child to be brash, wild at times, but flighty was never expected. She fought her battles and then some. But this was…
It was clearly beyond what her parents could corral. While Ryuwon worried, Coeli, the father, suspected. Hairs on his ear pricked to the shuffling in the dark hours. Ingrained habits from his Woodwarding days put him on edge in the quiet minutes. The air felt off.
She wasn’t supposed to ship off until after the party. At least that was the plan. They should have been better prepared. With how unpredictable the girl was- especially with all of the emotional turmoil that had plagued her in these recent days. It was such a mess. Ryuwon watched her daughter put up glass walls between them. Sure, the woman was never the clearest with her own emotions but actually seeing her own child follow too-closely in the same manner was gut-wrenching. Hands that were wringing the hem of her kimono were taken in his.
“She’ll be fine. She’s got a strong foundation-” it was difficult for the man to find the words to console his wife when he was wracked with doubt himself. He knew Raiko was full of terrible tendencies that have yet to be outgrown. Coeli was sure that she would- in time. With their guidance and support. Nanny Kiku had delivered the news as if it were their own hearts on a platter. While she had tried to remain neutral in most matters, it was clear her loyalty was to their daughter. Appreciative that she was trusted to such a degree, the wind was stolen out of their lungs.
“Amma! Baba! Where’s nuna**?” a lad burst in, face riddled with confusion. So rare for the calm child to be so emotional, Ryuhan- affectionately ‘Kou’, had always been the steadfast of their brood. Stunted years and lighter complexion, they still looked like a cohesive family. And the three remaining now by all biological notes, were indeed a unit.
But Raiko was their glue. The entire reason that Ryuwon and Coeli remained in each other’s lives. A shared responsibility, future. She taught them much about how to manage a child, each other, changing perspectives on how to move forward with their own lives. Feeling a sense of failing her in these last few weeks, how could they manage to explain to Kou? Arms open to beckon the child. Ryuwon took his hands and gave a thin forced smile.
“She’s gone on a bit early. I’m sure we’ll hear from her when she gets there.” attempting to comfort the alarmed boy. Raiko had been Kou’s everything. Since he was born, she protected him, cared for him, always within reach for whatever he might need. He could always reach out for her hand and it’d wrap around his with a gentle squeeze. It was rare for the siblings to be apart, the boy was clingy in that capacity. She was his hero more times than not. Oh how he wanted to burst to tears, such emotions but no comprehensive way to manage them. So he did what came naturally, squash it down and think through them later.
“So that’s why she was so emotional yesterday.” muttering, shoulders slumped. “I didn’t even get to wish her well.” not even one last hug. Coeli rubbed the boy’s shoulder, feeling the same haplessness hanging in the air.
The party was cancelled, apologies were sent out, House Dal had just left the Kiriyama estate after a personal visit to convey their sentiments. It’s not like she was dead- just, where?
“Idiot.” tossing the boxed pendant across the floor. The hinge came loose and the necklace tumbled out. A simple cord with a jade ring. Enchanted with tracking magic, he had meant to keep tabs on her whereabouts. Thwarted once again, he was annoyed beyond measure. To slip through lazy tentacles so effortlessly. Eizo could not fathom why she would leave before the bash- she loved being lavished in attention. Why would she skip out on that? Was it connected to that crying episode some weeks back? Something unresolved? He felt privy to these details, particularly now that they were tied in such a formal matter.
How could she skip out on her own fiance? He should have been the most important person in her life now- her intended husband. She owed him her allegiance, her loyalty, everything. She should have been his solely. After all, he intended to rewrite Kugane using her blood.
* 蛸壺 (takotsubo): 'octopus trap' in which fishermen use tethered clay pots to entice and trap octopi in the ocean. Octopi prefer a snug roost, once in the pot, fishermen just pull it up and out of the water by a tether. Medical condition in which a patient passes away from emotional stress aka 'passing away from heartache'
**nuna: 'older sister', used by younger males. Hangul. Kou only uses hangul with his immediate family where there is implicit complete trust. Outside, it's simple 'Nee/Nee-san'.
Deep-sea eyes stare at the wood grain in the overlapping ceiling tiles as his lungs fight to regain the air stolen. Groaning, rising onto elbows, a wrapped hand reaches for the pole nearby. Probably shouldn’t have egged her on about her kid brother getting punched. That idiot Satoshi had some gall to try. Sure Kou was just a weed of a kid but he was this sapling’s charge. And why would you fight a kid half their age? Despite his lack of involvement, it’d never stop the young Kiriyama from running his mouth.
There was an extra edge to her hits, pacing in front of the prone Eizo. The stillness in her stance was gone, her moves predictable. Alas, he’d never best her speed. Must have been an innate trait. Twelve summers strong, the sinew barely visible beneath fresh skin, he patted the dust out of his hakama and reset his stance. Over the next half hour, they would exchange full-force blows. Such aggression in small bodies, the instructor wasn’t sure how to manage the two. One moment contemplating reaching out to another instructor for advice, the two were grappling each other on the tatami. So much for weapons training, the girl shielded her face with forearms, a knee into ribs, trading blows and shouts. Rolling around a bit before the other students managed to pry the two apart.
Bloody mouth, black eye, bruised horribly, they sat beside one another as the master lectured their lack of discipline. It felt like forever before they were individually retrieved by their respective house staff.
Surely they knew better, Kiku-san stared at the scene before her: young Kou crying, their guest’s daughter Tsu staring confused at the scene holding onto the emotional toddler and the culprits dour with bruises and split lips. Pulling the small boy into her arms, she sighed at the older children. Nine summers and yet some manners still needed to be reinforced. Tsutsuru reached up and gave a conciliatory pat to Kou’s bum as she pulled close to the nanny. The Lalafellan child always makes the most rational of choices amongst these rascals. Finally, authority had arrived to force amends.
“You two, what happened?”
“He pulled our ears.” the viera spat, smearing the cut lip across her scrawny arm. The boy didn’t bother making eye contact, only shrugging before wiping the blood away from his nose. These children of the powerful were always such a stubborn lot. Kiku glanced at Tsutsuru who offered a solemn nod to verify the account. This one, she could trust.
“We do not pull ears and we do not fight. Now, apologize to one another. Or I’ll have to let your parents know.” The longest moment slipped in and felt a massive suffocating plush in the empty room.
“I’m sorry I beat you up.” still glaring but refusing to make eye-contact with him.
“I’m sorry I pulled your ears.” a quick eye to Kou who was coming out of his bout of tears. Neither child had any real emotion behind their words, it was clear they were only sorry they got caught fighting. Again.
“Go get cleaned up, lunch is going to be served soon. And don’t make a mess.” sternly warning the two as they trudged off to fix themselves up. Busying herself with cleaning up Kou’s face with a handkerchief pulled from kimono, shaking her head all the while. Those two are actively graying her dark locks beyond their current progress. Reaching into a sleeve, she managed to pull out two hardened disks of rice and wheat. Coated in a sweet-savory shoyu sauce and dried, it was the go-to pocket snack to offer young ones. Handing each Kou and Tsu the snack they all moved into the garden where a wide bench was being prepared for their midday meal. Rock hard, they’d work on these until everyone reconvened. Hopefully, they would manage without her intervention. O-kami, what is she to do with these hellions?
In their fourteenth summer, Raiko is enjoying the sights and smells during the midsummer festival evening. There were fireworks on the schedule and there was much anticipation with friends. It was the highlight of summer, cresting in this city-wide celebration. Food stalls and touts calling to the bodies milling through. All smiles, laughter and hands resting on wallets. At least until a shoulder check would knock her brows into a glare. Oh. Of course.
“Watch it.” Barking at a familiar moley face. His hair was covering much of his face, something about the current fashion but it looked slopping in her opinion. He was hand intertwined with Yukino- a friend of hers. While Raiko had spent a fair amount of time trying to convince her out of his enticement, she’d not stop whatever it was they had.
“Raiko! Come to get shaved ice with us!” and with sweet Yukino’s insistence, arms retreating from Eizo completely and entangling around the green-hair girl. Giggling, the girls in their yukata walked ahead of the boys, searching for the right stall to occupy. Catching up on gossip, they surrounded the green ears, engulfing her as their center. She was definitely easier to approach than he was- despite claiming that they were of equal charm. Annoyed, his mood soured a touch as his supposed date had so easily flounced away to cling on her arm.
The gaggle seemed to settle on one with available benches under verdant trees strung with lanterns. It was a great little space, comfortable to chat and joke amongst each other as youth do. But how was it that he was sitting there watching Yukino feed spoonfuls of syrup-laden ice and fruit to the long-eared one. Grinning ever-so sweetly, dimples dipped into the corners of her cheeks, she stares right into Eizo. Absolutely glib in her motions, leaning back, one arm around his girl. This was dastardly.
Sure, the girls always seemed to coalesce when in a group gathering but this was beyond friendly antics. Raiko was clearly doing this on purpose to enrage him. Was this because he yanked her ear just yesterday? If she had just stopped ignoring him, he wouldn’t have resorted to it.
“Eizo! Try this!” a spoon of melty ice hovering in front of him, accepting it. Raiko fully turned away, engaged in banter with some of the others. As if nothing had transpired, two could play this game. Eyes focused on Yukino, pulling all of the sweetness he could muster out of the dessert, injecting it back into gazes and words. Less-than-subtle glances, slipping her hand in his, closing the proximity, he made sure she would only look at him now. After all, this was most like the closest to puppy love he’d ever come. In reality, she was too good for the likes of him.
Yukino was as her namesake, beautiful as fresh snow, kind and just enough spunk. Educated even! A good girl from a noble lineage- she was the perfect bride. At least that was the future that seemed to haunt her whether it was desired or not. It was her role as a daughter. Maybe she’d be his bride sometime down the line.
Disposing of the cups and spoons, the gang of teenagers make their way towards the water around the pier. A barge out on the bay was heavy with the projectiles for tonight’s fireworks show. Excitement as they wound down the little paths, geta and zori on the cobblestones, energy electric. It wasn’t often they were allowed out without chaperones but as a group, it seemed easier to convince parents. For a moment, the dumb rabbit was gone from sight and mind. The big booms began, Yukino slipping closer with each jump. On the backdrop of colorful explosions, warm night air and the mood was perfect. Wordlessly, breath hitched each leaned towards the other-
Only to find cheek and hair meeting their lips.
“Here you two are!” exclaiming excitedly, terrible acting apparent as if interjecting her face into a very private moment hadn’t just transpired. Yukino blushed, shouted and shoved her away playfully, reprimanding her as she attempted to gather herself. He sat there stunned for a moment- did she just-
It was his first kiss. Not that it would mean much but if it was Yukino- maybe- the slow boil roiled as the moments ticked on, spurred on by Raiko’s laughter. She was planning this, that’s why she gave them space since the kakigoori stand. Running a hand through his hair, a flash of rage in exposed eye, he could only laugh along. She did get him good this time. This time.
When the last of the guests had departed, many swaying, some shouting into the dark wood of night, Raiko could feel exhaustion creep into her bones. Relief was in sight. It was policy that no guests staying for this banquet may stay the night. No advantage may be won in the sneaking hours between moon and morning. Catching Hana’s gaze, the senior server winked and smiled in return. While she remained standing outside at the entrance to bow and see off guests, nowhere was Amma. She would traditionally be managing this feat but was held up within.
“Ryuwon, a debt must be paid. It has long been overdue. You passed on that responsibility to your daughter and there will be those coming to collect.” Scooping the edge of the sleeve to retrieve the cup of hot tea. Azure ceramic with a wave of gold settled down on the cast-iron trivet as smooth hands retracted onto a lap. Much ran through her mind, time had indeed ran out and the call for payment was more insistent than ever.
“You know it would be a smart match. Together Kiriyama and Dal could change Kugane for the better.” Insisting after a long sip. “Our engagement was never going to work but as collaborators, we could do great things. I know what you’re capable of- I have seen it.” There was no affection in his voice, only calculated facts laid bare. There was little she could deny at this point of debate.
“I will allow it- if Ruhwy agrees to it. Only if she agrees. This is her decision. You and Kiriyama will not press her for favor. I understand that there is a lack of connection between my daughter and your son.”
“They are young, they will learn.” Offering matter-of-factly. Obviously, understanding and growth come with time. But the prospects of a happy marriage were difficult to read at the current time. Just a month ago, the young Dal came home with bruises and a shallow stab to her leg. Luckily no lasting damage was reported by doctors. There was never anything beyond arranging apology gifts between houses. Though she might inquire, she could see that there was no affection for the strange lad. They fought at the dojo as if they meant to end the other. Ryuwon could not see the potential in the pair as people. For the sake of business, it would be mutually beneficial but would tip the scales beyond trust.
House Dal is a bastion of neutrality. Building its foundations on keeping secrets, wiping blood off the floors and offering a safe space for the butting heads. They opted for no sides, a third party to moderate to barter peace. If they agree to binding their families together, it would start a rift among the other clans. At this point, House Dal had grown in worth beyond what some duller clans would grasp, a power yet unwielded beyond maintaining the status quo. Should Ryuwon choose to go down that path- it would send family against family. Silly notions of choice and romance, Kinzou needed to rein her in before she could use her own strength. To yoke a calm beast so to speak.
“You know we can protect House Dal. Kiriyama has the reach and manpower.” Reminding her of what was at stake. At his command.
“Think about it. Talk to your daughter.” Setting the emptied cup on the table where Ryuwon’s remained untouched. A shift in fabric, creaking of bones and the Head of Kiriyama departs. Followed a short distance, the Proprietess of Yoruhana to see off one last guest.
Stepping in beside her, he just stood there, arms tucked in the sleeves of his kimono. Hana had backed away to complete various tasks, the lantern handed off to another who stood some distance from the youngsters.
“Be on your way.” The brusque words finally found their razor sharpness now that the theatre of propriety could be curtained. Brows furrowing, his mere presence enough to sour her night. Even in this place that is her home, tainted.
“That’s no way to talk to a cherished guest.” He would have gone into the night to further drink with other sons. But his father had yet to emerge.
“You are neither. Why do you linger?’ Each moment growing snappier, her patience tested. Why was Amma allowing for a private audience when it was mostly taboo? Thoughts ran wild and irritation burned at her side.
“I’d love to move onto actual entertainment but as you can see, I’m waiting as well.” Tongue swiping over his teeth, eyes wandering to the canopy of the woods in which this secluded inn rested. It was a clean little fortress, could manage some time before falling- errant thoughts. Glancing over, it wasn’t the first he’s seen her in formalwear. It suited her well enough, her hair was such a rat’s nest. What magic managed to confine that mass of algae into a neat bun? Clearly, she was not hyur, her features intriguing by all standards. He could see why the others talked about her the lurid way they did. But they didn’t know her like he did. That despite all of the appearances and stories, she was just as much of a brat as he was. That she didn’t hesitate to punch back, stab and maim. She fought and played dirty, just had a little more care in curating her image. What difference was there between them really?
“Are you still mad about the throwing stars?” Cocking his head into her peripheral suddenly, a broad grin despite the statement of concern. Like instinct, Eizo could always figure out what her buttons were and smash them. He could feel her glowering in the dim lantern light of the night.
“You sent three into my legs!” Hissing in return. “The one time I beat you in a hand-to-hand spar! Y’re the sorest loser!” The edge of professionalism fell away as her anger got the better of her. Opening his mouth to reply, only to feel a tap on his shoulder and presence pass by.
“Eizo, come.” The flurry of fabric breezed by- the patriarch on the path to exit. Hastily, Raiko bowed, her mother appearing on the other side of her. Head bowed as the very last guest was seen away. Eizo bowed back to the head of house and lazily followed after his father. Hand wrapped in a familiar handkerchief waves to Raiko in taunt. A chauffeur escorted them with a lamp to the drive where the rickshaws were sitting waiting.
Once the last had entered, the daughter was allowed to leave her station at the door greeting guests on their way into the banquet hall. Each, personally ushered to their carefully assigned seat along two rows of small tables facing each other. Placement, neighbors, politics carefully woven together into a tenuous peace. Weapons and the like in a closet two rooms away, this inner sanctum was for important discussion- whether they remained within the realm of civility or not.
Negotiations, the making- remaking of agreements and the securing of contracts amongst the various heads of clans. These were the ones who moved in the shadows. Dealing in the less-than-legal, shifting the tides of Kugane to and fro. On this night every few years, right before the summer festivities kicked off in full, they gathered in neutral halls to hash out the next year’s projects. Gathering each Clan Head took meticulous timing and scheduling to ensure availability. Each face a mask of restrained tension. Enrobed in fine kimono of varying caliber, they mumbled to neighbors while taking stock of who was in attendance.
Kinzou Kiriyama held no love for Iwadera the Younger- brash and foolish, the Elder held a modicum of wisdom- a pity to be bedridden. Old Watanabe still was able to manage despite the gout. A cursory glance beside him before settling into the plush cushion provided. Mirror image of his youthhood, his firstborn slipped with the soft shuffle of fabric, stoically beside him. What to do with this brat? Always causing problems but if only he could reign in those outbursts-
“Don’t speak unless addressed.” warning the lad of sixteen summers. His mother should have been firmer with him- perhaps he’d be easier to train. He’s been shooting up in height all year, finally starting to look like a man. Eizo, the Heir to the Kiriyama Clan, was a bomb waiting for an unpredictable trigger. An only child without a sibling to offload any emotional excess. He’ll learn to grow out of it. Better sooner than later- if plans would proceed well this evening.
Each guest sank into the firm cushions on the freshly cleaned new tatami, its grassy aroma was softened by wisps of incense. In those small practiced steps, tabi-covered feet glided her to her mother’s side. Gold eyes peered out from beneath barely tamed fringe, scanning the room before stopping before her mother’s familiar kimono. Tempted to slip towards the floor to count the diamonds in the edge-binding of the mats, a mental pause and gaze slips upwards back into the crowd.
One step forward, with a grace most in the room had to learn to stomach, she clapped her hand for quiet. As the master of this domain, mediator more often, festivities would be dictated as follows.
“Brothers, sisters, good evening. Once again, Yoruhana is honored to entertain you all tonight. We will be beginning with a welcome toast to familiar faces and new. The menu will be offered and we will begin with a curation of seasonal dishes. I hope you all will find enjoyment this evening.” Nearly at once, a server appeared between patrons to set and pour small saucers of fine sake.
Taking the alcohol as ritual, eyes magnetize to the figure beside the Matriarch. For much of what he could recall, they had attempted to hide her away from the public. She always found a way out- and he always found her. His favorite target to torment. A devious smile slipped into neat features as his gaze remained solely on her, who was clearly actively avoiding his existence. Relishing in the energy spent on his behalf, the drink was lifted in ceremonial toast.
The sake in her hand felt featherlight, they had attempted black and gold lacquer catching the light of the lanterns every once in a while. Amma held her saucer high in poised hands to initial the toast- her body descending into a neat ninety-degree bow to lower herself in this moment of modesty. For now, she is merely their maître d'hôtel to detail the night’s order of activities and amenities.
“May the moon illuminate your truth.” Bringing the saucer to sip, she holds her bow for a moment waiting for the sound of guests to finish before setting the saucer on the tray of a well-timed server. The daughter is but half a moment delayed in following her mother’s motions but catches up just in time to appear in sync. The bitterness lingered on her lips as she replaced the emptied vessel on the offered tray.
“We will be starting dinner with…” beginning with the many-course kaiseki, a speedy dictation of the supplied menu. The daughter steps back and is now allowed to leave the room during this hosting duty. Into the hall, she steps amidst the hustle and bustle of servers with stacked trays. In this din, she quiets herself shaking off the hint of discomfort that threatened to sink her resolve. To the prep area, a glass of water for a parched throat disappearing, wiping her mouth with the back of hand. Onto the next. The next, the next. Tonight’s performance was important to Amma- she had to be perfect.
Following her retreating figure out the door, the sake tilted back and sat in his mouth for a beat. Refreshing, light, but disappointing to lose sight of his amusement so quickly. So funny how much effort she put into not glaring at him. It was only at the end of the partially heard speech that the door slid open once more and green ears reemerged at the head of the procession of trays. Each server presents their precious cargo to the girl to inspect before scurrying across the space to the respective personal tables of the guests. Cocking his head, he made sure she could feel his eye on her. Rewarded with an ear twitch, he was sure it was his doing.
The night moved along with each course coming and going. The tension was slow to ease out of her limbs when she was finally allowed to sit down. But the performance carried on- not until everyone was gone could House Dal rest easy. Now, finally at the end of the meal, Amma called for one more toast to close the service- various discussions would ensue henceforth. Exchanges that could not be sorted between mouthfuls of seafood but in the cups of sake. Alas, this was the final act of the evening before she could manage to escape.
House Dal’s daughter would be serving sake to each guest individually. This is her official debut into their world. Amma chose her garb, made her memorize names, faces and tendencies- now it was put to the test. Luckily for her, she would start at the farther end from the Kiriyama clan. A soft smile, the stifling stillness of her stubborn hair styled into a much restrained bun with hime bangs framing her face. Somewhere between a child and woman still, she played her innocence and coquettish smile to their fullest effect. Received well by most, her straight back and demeanor scrutinized by each she offered a small glass of their finest vintage. To pour sake for guests was a show of humility and service and she was consistent despite the ache in her calves from constantly kneeling and standing between guests.
“Oh- she’s a looker despite her complexion- Didn’t think y’d marry outside of this circle, Dal-sama,” middle aged Morita with sly eyes barked towards the end of the hall, the stench of sake heavy in the air. Suppressing the urge of her nose to twitch, forcing the smiling mask back onto her features, she offered the man his portion and moved along quickly. “Oh Morita-san, I find myself married with children despite what the general gossip would indicate. Traveling out there in the world, one never knows what may happen.” Returning with as backhanded a comment as passable beneath politeness, a little edge to the banter helped to set boundary lines. Amma had worked hard, battling the belittling of men who found their lineage of better stock than tangible deeds. To this point where they were forced to pay their respects to her capabilities. To this place where neutrality was fought for, fang and claw, until the wood remained dark to hide any blood.
Nerves finally gathered by the time she arrived at the Kiriyama, she first offered to the Head of Clan. Esteemed, ruthlessly progressive, stubborn, there was some energy between Kinzou and Amma that was indescribable yet tangible. There was history of some kind and this daughter was sure it was wise to pry into a very private mother’s past. Senses sharp, the dribble on the side of the glass was wiped clean in one seamless motion, the handkerchief pulled smoothly out of the top of her obi damp and now resting on folded lap. Asserting a small smile in her eye as she offered the drink, the man seemed amused at such a level of forethought in the gesture. This one, this child was able to read the air. A potential threat for sure. If she found the heights of ambition, where would she climb? He watched as with a subtle shift of attitude she turned to offer his son the same.
Thought interrupted, he opted to resume the conversation pulling at him with Yamazaki, paying little mind to what transpired. Children’s squabbles and games. Kinzou had heard from assistants that there was some sort of rivalry between these two. It made sense, they were roughly the same age, same martial arts instructor, social circles, it was bound to happen. They would be the next generation of contenders at this very meeting in some years’ time.
Blinking, the daughter watched the darkening of the sleeve edge, the cool sake dripping down her fingers. For sure, he missed accepting the glass on purpose. They practice at the same dojo- she knows he is not clumsy to any extent. It is not within the fiber of his being, training be damned. He would never appear less than perfect. And now, that smirk slipping onto his lips, how badly she wanted to rip it off and feed it to the wolves. A smile twitched onto her own as reality came crashing down on her name.
“Raiko- you must be tired.” Offering an excuse to her sweetly, his presence inching closer, the serving assistant dissolving into panic at the situation. The snark-laced tone had her squashing the rage down- he understood how this was an important evening, they live in the same circles. Deep breath, the mask shoved back on. Setting the glass back in the tray and nodding for it to be refilled, a gentle hand takes his and dabs at the damp sleeve and skin with the handkerchief. The moment they came into contact, fingers squeezed, pressing her nails as deep as they would go into his wrist. Flinching, she was pleased, but still hoping to draw blood. Letting him understand that she knew of the subtly turned hand to hit hers and topple the drink. She was all too familiar with how he moved.
“Eizo, how very likely of you to miss a given target.” Gold eyes flitting back to meet the teal, a hiss on her words. They’d be akin to Hingashi waves if not for the foul creature that housed them. Looks wasted on such a terrible personality.
Before either might retort, “Looks like there might be romance brewing here in Yoruhana after all.” Eyes shoot back to Morita who was grinning directly across the aisle, making sure Amma hears the statement. It was a proposition disguised in jest. Tying down a member of the Dal family was coveted by anyone who knew the current value of connections. And of course, an ally of the Kiriyama Clan would eventually benefit. Especially if he had been the one to propose the possibility. Especially when House Dal owed this delegation such a blood debt.
Both teens stared back, clearly stunned at the statement before snapping glares at each other. Preposterous. Caught in the image of holding hands in the midst of a party, many others murmured, concurred and fell into cheer at the prospect. Some others called that their sons would make for better matches. Quickly finishing rectifying the misstep, Raiko offers Eizo the refilled sake glass and the exchange is without word or reaction, the both go back to their masks of indifference. Reaching down into her lap for the handkerchief to tuck back into obi, she finds it gone. Glancing beside her and then back up, there it is- now tucked into the overlap of his kimono. He was always much slicker in his sleight of hand than she could manage. Shooting him a look of utmost detest, she cuts her losses and moves on. The task is nearly at an end. Amma was busy shifting the topic of that conversation elsewhere, it was a topic she was strangely cagey about. Most girls in this class of affluence usually had predetermined marriages by this point. Not House Dal. They hid their daughter away, refusing all offers despite the mounting pressure.
This daughter was given the right to choose in this matter alone if all else had already been decided for her. Marriage alone was her domain. A child after all, never really putting much thought to the topic, she finds herself having to confront such a foreign idea.
Brow furrowed as he steals a glance at her side profile moving down the line, the sting on his skin as several half moons pooled with blood. Without thinking, Eizo’s hand raises and casually licks the wounds before deftly wrapping her stolen handkerchief around them. The corner of his father’s eye catching the motion. There was merit in the pairing. Ever since Ryuwon Dal returned from the outerlands with man and child in tow- he’s been grateful for the distraction of rearing his own heir. But it couldn’t be said that it would be most advantageous to join hands with House Dal. Even if it had to be through the next generation. If this particular generation could grant an extended lifetime to progeny, how long could a dynasty stay its grip on power. Some of the more traditional fools would think it best to keep Kugane blood pure simply to feel some modicum of superiority. No, Kinzou had thought beyond now, the benefits of this daughter’s blood would birth new generations of extended reign. Tucking away that thought for the moment, an arrangement for the transport of some illicit materials across town was completed.
Socked feet shuffle to and fro, the grassy fragrance of the newly replaced tatami clung like fog in the room. Gray night barely fading as orange burned on the horizon, coloring the walls with its light. How cool the air was with the windows open, the engawa* a heavily trafficked roadway for the House. Preparations for the banquet reservation had the ryokan abuzz with motion-. with the exception of a single figure, sitting with legs folded, feet tucked neatly under. Cool gold eyes stared out of the early morning window into the manicured garden, gaze idly tracing over ancient stone chochin* and hedges. Be still, be as sand- inert until spurred to motion by wind or water. A hand reaches out from its rest on the thigh to feel the taut braid of the grass, the familiar texture offering grounding. A deep breath in, then exhaled in slow fashion, finger nails scraping across the sinew of the floor. Today was going to be a long day.
“Ah! Ojou-sama*! Have you been here all this time? Dal-sama is calling for you. Quickly!” Barely turning her head in time to see the door slide open all of the way and Kiku-san billowing in. Eyes scan the teen and a brusque sigh escapes. This child, why couldn’t she be more like the bocchan*? How could siblings be so different in personality?
In a huff, the middle-aged woman descended upon her charge, a strip of linen pulled out of the kimono chest panel, hands reaching for that mop of green hair. As quickly as the nanny appeared, wild locks were tamed into a low ponytail and ushered onto her feet. Tidying up the girl’s kimono, easing the large wrinkles out, tightening the belt—smoothing out this clay lump of a child into the image of propriety. Down the hall she went, unrelenting nanny nipping at her heels, shouting various orders at staff as they passed through the house. Piles of linens, arms laden with trays, baskets of ingredients rushed to the kitchen-
“Ruhwy, there you are- thank you Kiku-san,” Ryuwon acknowledged the nanny’s bow before she backed out of the room, sliding the door shut with a soft thud. Leaving the two alone, the sounds deadened and silence claimed the space. Ever so bold to steady her gaze upon Amma, whose hands were full of tome and pen, gaze deep in the written page. In these inner rooms, it would always be ‘Amma’, outside formality demanded titles. Every once in a while, the girl was summoned to be reminded as to not cause trouble or intrude on guests during their reserved banquet events. Full-expecting the familiar warning, those gold eyes trail back towards the floor. Gently but firmly, a hand lifts her face-
“We do not look down,” mother suddenly so close, paperwork left on her desk. Instead, a rare moment of intimacy amidst the growing din. Growing up with this family in this house was something that was not normal, even by affluent standards. No, House Dal was something else.
“Eyes open, we are watching. Ears open, we are listening,” pulling a folded kimono from the tray on a dedicated table, the Lady of the House attended to her daughter herself. It had several years since Yoruhana hosted such an important convention. Even longer since she last dressed this child. Pulling on the layers to assess the colors and patterns for verification, the hyur was quite pleased with the result. “You will be present tonight. Speak not a word but remember their names and faces.” A hand, scarred, pressed softly against the girl’s cheek. Tender, eyes losing their diamond hardness for the moment. Unspoken as with many emotions in this family, she held her breath waiting for Amma to say something more. Instead, a twinge of sadness? regret? pressed brows together and relaxed.
“You are a child of House Dal. Always remember.”
Editing by elunova <3
*Translation notes
‘engawa’: glass-doored outer walkway. Can be opened up to create a sort of veranda. Traditional buildings tend to have all of the rooms encircled by the hall/walkways.
‘chochin’: lantern
‘Ojou-sama’: “Little Lady” for the younger females of title the house, generally the daughters of the reigning Lord/Lady
‘Bocchan’: “Little Lord”, for the younger males of title the house, generally the sons of the reigning Lord/Lady
Oh Gridania, this wood who had this wayward daughter thrust upon thy bough. Not of your green but nurtured as such nonetheless. Raucous laughter as the water splashed in the shallow rivulet, long legs bare of boots yet-to-be-broken-in swinging to and fro. Sitting on the low-growing branch, feet in the cold water breath finally caught- the viera leans back on her palms watching in content her fellow academy-mates run amok in this rare moment of relaxation furtively stolen.
Despite all of the team-building exercises and emphasis on form- ultimately these ragtag youths were training to become living weapons. Put on the fringes to keep those within their borders in their peace.
Just the other day, she had met and absolutely fell in love with Vidhi and Ildan- such a pair! Vidhi deliciously vivacious and Ildan so full of…duty. But maybe love was too strong a word- after all she had just met them. But there was a less-than-subtle pull of something beyond her words to them nonetheless.
Such possibilities on the horizon. Dreams of the future that came to her in these days seemed so bright. The haze of happiness settled like gold dust on tired bodies, despite the early mornings and late nights sneaking out. What was sleep when there was so much life to live?
Kicking up some water, watching a fellow trainee flinch and retaliate, adolescence bubbled and chuckled somewhere in the mired forest.
🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!
Thanks for the ask bb! 💕 @vahalia-cress
SUMMER
Raiko is a summer child through-and-through. If there's a coastline, she's in the water. If there are nightmarkets, she's already stuffing her face. The season she is most social, busy and alive. Energies are in line with the temperatures. Diametrically, she is rather reticent in cold, she hates bundling up (limits her movements) and her ears going numb but it's the best season for seeing things without the fluff of comfort.
OSMANTHUS OOLONG TEA
Absolute favorite beverage despite her affinity for alcohol. She always keeps a few small bricks of it on her and one of the things she rarely shares with others. The particular tea is from a local farm from home in Hingashi. Literal steaming cups of home to reset herself when she feels the need for grounding.
STEEL STRAIGHT SPEAR
Halberds, poles, occasionally dual knives, she always comes back to the straight-blade spear. While fine with wood hafts, Raiko has a preference for solid metal- her energies flow easier with the right material. There is no need for tassles, curved blades, multiple points, she is most comfortable with a single straight bladed spear and will do her best work and optimum form using a simplified tool. In some cases, she will prefer work with a pole alone, something about the kinetic energy transferring to the cracks of bone upon contact keep her motion going.
GOSSIP
Raiko looooooves gossip. Tell her everything, serve her the TEA. Those big ol' ears were made for hoarding social information so that she might see if it's worth using in some manner later. Tell her all of your secrets, she'll keep plying you with drink and curiosity.
ROUMB
For no particular reason, the viera is drawn to round-shapes. Especially in animals. She loves a big thiccy fatty rotund chocobo. Something so pleasing about nature's inclined shape. Sometimes, fondness also manifests in aggression where she would find herself wanting to see how far she could kick a round critter. Please keep your korpokkurs away from her.
WHITE FLOWER HAIR-TIE
Her younger brother Kou gifted it to her. The only one she wears decoratively.
WELCOME to Sea's Catch Up (For) Starlight Challenge! Also know as 'A FFIX Prompt?' (I just woke up), 'Is it Cosy or Cozy in Australia?' (Cosy) and bEANS (bEANS!).
Suffice it to say, there have been a lot of challenges this year—Gpose challenges, FFXIV Write, Down to Dawntrail and Seafloor Saints Wake (just to name ours)! I know from personal experience that I haven't had the time to get to every single prompt... but I've wanted to. I also know it can be really disheartening to miss out on prompts and feel like you're being weird for engaging with it later on in the year.
To that end, I wanted to open a challenge that encourages people to either tackle an existing prompt from any gpose/writing/art challenge that was hosted during the year (under the excuse of it being for this challenge) OR pick from one of the prompts above to make a Starlight-themed creative piece!
All of these words were chosen by various people within the SEAFLOOR Discord, and i have tried not to tie them too closely to Christmas so people who don't celebrate the holiday don't feel left out. If you want to change a word that is more applicable to your culture, but still embodies the same spirit of the holiday through family, humanity, spending time with your loved ones, etc. I highly encourage you to do so!
This challenge will run the entirety of the month of December and can be tackled in any way you see fit. If you want to do a prompt a day and mix in the words in amongst working on your old project(s), go for it! If you want to select some words and not others, cool! If you want to only work on your old stuff and leave this list in the dust, a okay! It's all about giving you a low-stakes way to engage with your creativity and an excuse to go back to stuff you might have missed, or take some time to celebrate the season and people who mean a lot to you (and your ocs)!
Please use the tag #catch up (for) starlight if you participate and consider joining our community! A more comprehensive FAQ is contained in the read more below. ☃️
But also:
Is the use of mods/shades/tools okay? Yes, of course! Whatever works for you to make your creative dreams come true.
What about NSFW (gore, sexual or otherwise)? Use common sense and appropriate tags as necessary, especially for common fears and phobias. I obviously cannot control what Tumblr sees as being too much, but the general rules for SEAFLOOR apply where possible. If your conservative boss wouldn't like to see it, consider tagging and content warning were necessary.
Where do I post works? Hopefully your Tumblr blog, silly, but you can also reblog them to the SEAFLOOR Tumblr Community or join us on Discord! If someone posts their work in either of those spaces, consider reacting with a wintery-themed emoji! It just lets people know you enjoyed it. ❄️ I am going to do my best to reblog prompts when I see them, but I am going away during the Christmas period so I may not be contactable in that time.
Is there a prize? There might be this time around, though I haven't given it much thought. Seafloor members will get a fancy cosmetic title.
👹 How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)?
🥊 Does your OC prefer to take the lead or follow orders? With everyone or just with certain people? Is there a reason for this?
🍅 How easily is your OC embarassed? What subjects make them flush and why? What event has made your OC the most embarassed they’ve ever been?
🍊 Does your OC have any triggers? Why do these things trigger them? What are they like when triggered and how do they calm down after?
💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?
🏀 Does your OC have any skills that people wouldn’t expect them to have? Do they have a hobby or pass time that others would consider strange or weird? How did they learn this particular skill or pick up this hobby?
☀️ How well does your OC take care of themself? Do they tend to put others before their own wellbeing and if so how often? What is their favourite way to pamper themself?
🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!
⭐ Does your OC like to sleep alone or do they enjoy sharing their bed? Have they been to any sleepovers? Have they ever been camping? What did they think of the experiences if so?
🍏 When your OC says “I had a bad day” what does that tend to mean? Is it really as bad as they’re saying or are they being a bit dramatic?
🐍 Is your OC a good liar? How easy is it for them to tell lies? What is the biggest lie they’ve ever told and did they ever get found out? On the other hand, what is the biggest lie someone has told your OC and did they believe them?
🐉 How religious is your OC? Do they pray to any god(s) or do they not believe in that kind of stuff? What is their view of religion in general? Where do they believe people go when they die? If your OC is not religious why not and what do they believe in otherwise?
💧 What is something from your OC’s past they’re the most ashamed of and why? What is something they’re really proud of? And lastly what is something in their past that could make them shake with dread?
🌊 What does your OC do on their days off from working, school or whatever else it is they may do? Do they enjoy relaxing, shopping, hanging out with friends? What is a normal day like for them?
🐟 What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they’ll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to old age?
🍇 Does your OC have any bad habits? Does your OC have any addictions like smoking or drinking? How did they fall into these habits and why?
🔮What does your OC think is their best trait. What is actually their best trait? What about their flaws? Are they one to admit these flaws or do they like to pretend they’re perfect?
🍆 (feel free to skip this one if you don’t feel comfortable answering it for a particular OC!) What is your OC like in bed? Are they particularly sensitive or have anywhere they really like being touched? Are they loud, quiet, intense? What are their turn ons and turn offs?
🌸 What’s a sentence that would make your OC’s day better? One that would make them laugh? One that would make their day worse? Why? What words would you have to say to them to completely ruin their day?
🌷 How much effort does your OC put into their looks? Do they care much about how they’re dressed or what their hair looks like or are they not bothered? Could they be considered a snob or a slob?
🌺 What additions would your OC make to their body if they could? Lets say, if they don’t have a tail would they want one? Wings? Horns? Do they wish they could shapeshift?
BONUS QUESTIONS:
❤️ What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?
🧡 What traits of your own do you see in this OC? Are they a little bit self-inserty? Don’t be shy, we all put parts of ourselves into the creations we love!
💛 What is your personal opinion of this OC? Do you love them or are they your trash child? Are they your baby?
💚 Are you writing anything with this OC or planning on writing anything for them? Do you rp with them or are they just for fun to mess around with?
💙 How important is this OC to you? Are they a character that’s helped you through some pretty tough times or could you scrap them without feeling a thing?
💜 Do you enjoy working on your OC or are they a bit of a chore? We all have that one character who is hard to develop!
