Naminé is not having a very good day. Sure, everyone goes through their own bad days, but it's very rare for the soft-spoken, gentle-natured blonde to have one of her own. But, it happens, and it's happening to her right now ( Read more... )

She can hear several knocks on the door of her room -- calm and indifferent -- before Saïx, the current member of the Organization set to guard her, gets up and paces towards the other end of the room with a smooth and confident stride. Quietly, she lets her pencil rest in her hand, frozen for the briefest moment, while she listens intently. She ( Read more... )

Naminé sits by the window, sketchpad in front of her -- as always, but she isn't drawing this time. The large pad of paper is sitting on her lap, closed and neglected.

Instead, Naminé is staring out of the glass, daydreaming. She's thinking about a certain someone with a rather dreamy look on her face, imagining the feel of a soft, sea-breeze ( Read more... )

Naminé smiles a little. Her bare feet are dangling over the edge of the upper level in the library of the castle in the World that Never Was, through the thin railing. She has her sketchpad with her, as usual, a couple of pencils and her eraser. Her sandals are neglected beside her -- white against the deep black of the floor -- left there so they ( Read more... )