She Is Lost [Complete]
Character(s): Golden Sparrow, Sin Spawn, Lumen
Content: Golden Sparrow arrives in Paixao!
Setting: Niflheim
Time: Daytime
Warnings: Confusing speech patterns
Golden Sparrow was not pleased, which may seem odd to others who had come as close to death as she had. It could be expected she leap for joy, smile, and, perhaps were she more outgoing, that she hug anyone unfortunate enough to pass near her. However, she only looked around the courtyard with a decided frown, feeling and being extremely out of place among the thriving population of blondes. There was no sense of relief that she had survived the blow which should have killed her, nor any sense of delight and reawakened newness in the world; there was only a decided sense of emptiness and loneliness, of a lack of fulfillment and failure. And confusion.
Most could not or would not give her a plain answer, and that was just fine. The small device (populated by tiny, magical people?) seemed to hold the answers she sought, and, for a while, the so-called journal maintained her attention. It would be inaccurate to say it entertained her, for she felt no feelings of joy or humor; it was an amazing device, true, but, ultimately, the journal was simply a means of gaining information.
And what the journal told her was this:
She was not dead.
Her allies were not here.
Her enemies were not here.
This was not China.
She was lost.
Golden Sparrow settled on a bench to mull over her present situation. Her ever-present pipa slid off her back and into her hands, settling with a practiced and familiar feeling. It was comforting to hold, and to play.
Leaning over the lute-like instrument, she plucked the strings softly, finding a tune for the moment. Once found, the tune lifted from the instrument and drifted with the wind, a sad melody. It calmed her and filled her, and, most importantly, it reminded her of all that she had lost... The Orphan Warrior leaned over the instrument, skillfully coaxing a tune out of its depths. The song nestled itself deep in one's heart, pulling at memories most thought better forgotten. It was a song of loss, and Golden Sparrow wished its notes to Heaven.
Content: Golden Sparrow arrives in Paixao!
Setting: Niflheim
Time: Daytime
Warnings: Confusing speech patterns
Golden Sparrow was not pleased, which may seem odd to others who had come as close to death as she had. It could be expected she leap for joy, smile, and, perhaps were she more outgoing, that she hug anyone unfortunate enough to pass near her. However, she only looked around the courtyard with a decided frown, feeling and being extremely out of place among the thriving population of blondes. There was no sense of relief that she had survived the blow which should have killed her, nor any sense of delight and reawakened newness in the world; there was only a decided sense of emptiness and loneliness, of a lack of fulfillment and failure. And confusion.
Most could not or would not give her a plain answer, and that was just fine. The small device (populated by tiny, magical people?) seemed to hold the answers she sought, and, for a while, the so-called journal maintained her attention. It would be inaccurate to say it entertained her, for she felt no feelings of joy or humor; it was an amazing device, true, but, ultimately, the journal was simply a means of gaining information.
And what the journal told her was this:
She was not dead.
Her allies were not here.
Her enemies were not here.
This was not China.
She was lost.
Golden Sparrow settled on a bench to mull over her present situation. Her ever-present pipa slid off her back and into her hands, settling with a practiced and familiar feeling. It was comforting to hold, and to play.
Leaning over the lute-like instrument, she plucked the strings softly, finding a tune for the moment. Once found, the tune lifted from the instrument and drifted with the wind, a sad melody. It calmed her and filled her, and, most importantly, it reminded her of all that she had lost... The Orphan Warrior leaned over the instrument, skillfully coaxing a tune out of its depths. The song nestled itself deep in one's heart, pulling at memories most thought better forgotten. It was a song of loss, and Golden Sparrow wished its notes to Heaven.