#eyebrand

          ❝ If you are in need of help as we walk, I am happy to oblige. ❞ and perhaps happier still were she to take it, feeling a warmth that promises to keep her cozy despite the icy atmosphere around them.

lilina is here. lilina is here, and she's likely as lost and alone as you are. you'd promised lord hector you would protect her, and so you shall. together, the two of you can work out the strange devices in this city- it'll be just like one of mage general cecilia's lessons! and once you've got your bearings, you can work out how to return to lycia... now that lilina is here, everything will be just fine...!

"lilina!!" you cry out, feeling as though the street is stretching on forever. how much longer until you reach her? "lilina, over here!"

she turns, as though looking for the person being called out for, and your voice dies in your throat.

this isn't lilina. the clothes had suggested as much, but you'd paid that no mind; most noble ladies you know have several dresses and outfits, lilina is no exception. this lady is taller - older - than your childhood friend, you now realize, and though they have blue eyes in common as well, this one's eye has... a mark in it.

a lump forms in your throat as the dream shatters, and you avert your gaze shamefully. she's realized it was you calling out, and after all the commotion you caused getting over here, you need to see this through. "my apologies, milady. i... thought you were someone i know."

      “Oh! I almost forgot - before we get started...” Much too excited to wait any longer, she rushed across the kitchen, opening a cabinet and removing a gift bag to present to Lucina. Within the bag was an apron, a flair of blue ruffles outlining its polka-dotted base design. Despite its description it was stylish, and Sumia could only hope that she would love it.

      “Lucina? It is you, isn’t it?” She looks a little different--her hair’s a little longer, her cheeks a little fuller--but there’s no mistaking the color of her hair or the loud color of her shirt ( because really, there’s only one person he knows who would wear something like that ). 

       The Fibonacci ward definitely had an interesting aesthetic to it. He’d heard a lot about ‘steampunk’ as a visual style, and to see it in person, he wouldn’t deny he found a degree of charm to it. (Even if he wondered a few times if he’d somehow wandered into a clock, with all the turning gears and gadgets.) 

       Admiring the scenery wasn’t why he was there, though. 

       The ring at the house’s door would seem fairly sudden. At this hour, the housing area was mostly quiet, with everyone having departed to take care of some business or another. Really, when he pressed the button at the door, he was operating mostly on a hunch. As calm as he was, he wouldn’t deny the slight tension as he waited for a response. 

       Though, eventually, the door would open for the unexpected guest. And when it did, he’d do what he always did: offer a warm, nonchalant smirk. 

“Order whatever you like! My treat.”

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

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

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

                      it takes some time, as the city was starting to adjust itself into what normalcy could possibly exist in this place, and she’s eager in her search for the Ylissean princess. the thought of reunifying with Lucina brings an ache that settles in her chest, and she doesn’t realize just how tense she’s feeling until she coaxes her feet to stop for a moment, her hand, which had involuntarily curled into a fist, relaxes. 

                       she’s wondering if now was a good time to take a meal break when the corner of her eye catches movement of indigo hair, and Schuyler turns almost too quickly in fear of losing sight of it. sure enough, there she is, or at least she believes it really is her.

                         ❝ Lucina...? ❞

                        a name she hasn’t said in so long leaves her lips, and then she takes a step, then two, before cupping her hands in front of her mouth in order to amplify her voice. She wants to run to her, but she settles for calling to her first, in the hopes that she’ll hear her voice.  ❝ Lucina! Lucina! ❞

                    did she even remember her? 

To: Lucina From: Celica A. Mercury