As dictated by Claire.
A great by B-17 zoomed over the principality called My Life, and dropped a big-ass nostalgia bomb on me. It's been pretty righteous as far as reacquainting with old buddies go. So, let me spin you an epic yarn about a scarred-up girl with an attitude. And puppets. And restaurant ventures.
A long, long, long, long time ago, I'd spent the better part of a year on a Roleplay Server of Ragnarok called Agharta. Agharta's a pretty slick place, if you're a good-guy. There's just about zero room for anyone beyond "Crass Bitch," or "Brooding Intellectual," and if you get all up in normality's grill, you get raised eyebrows and unified retaliation.
However, if you're just making ends meet, say, as a Puppeteer, things go pretty well!
And I was.
I'd spent my evening getting tomatoes hurled at me, getting sunburns, and sporting lucky hats, and falling hopelessly, hopelessly closer to one Sathyre Caerwynn, a delightfully foul-mouth, scarred-up, and surprisingly strong Mu with a penchant for broadswords and street-lamp spears.
Sathyre Caerwynn would happen to be Sabina Damirovna! I've only mentioned her once before when I was lighting my wishing lantern to wish goodwill onto everyone!
Sabina was a good friend of mine. We'd met under false terms while I was using my once-trappish looks as an alternate identity. See, I hadn't planned on staying, so I figured registering under an alias would be inconsequential. It wasn't, because I had so much fun I stuck around.
Later, some issues with my crummy love-life prior came to light and I wound up taking a lot of time to exclusively focus on my college credits and graduating top-quarter. When I finally came back, Sabina had gotten royally screwed by the moderating staff and moved on to bigger and better things.
We've actually just recently gotten back in touch, and it's pretty stellar!
I can't say I'm the best, but to celebrate, I've taken a crack at drawing Sathyre with her trademark goggles and a two-handed sword.
Aaah, Memories.
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