renana rena

[ she is starving.
she is parched.
she is exhausted.

she is three solid feet of vengeance, and she is going to personally cut down whomever brought her to this wretched place.

her armor, torn at and scratched by crystal, lies discarded some meters down the road. her sword - a terrifying hunk of black metal, nearly a foot taller than her - drags along the glassy ground beneath her feet. each labored step brings the disgusting screech of metal on glass, her teeth gritting each time the sound echoes out.

it's only when her gaze falls on someone else - someone decidedly foreign to this place - that she stands to her full just-under-three-feet. slowly, she lifts the sword to point in their direction. and when she has done all this, she calls out in a clear voice: ]

Are you the cur who tore me from my duty?

[ thal's balls, is nothing normal in this place...?

renana weighs the silver - no, silver-tinted, there's not a trace of the metal in here - device in her hands. it's clearly some sort of technology, of course, but it holds no trace of garlean or allagan aesthetic. if anything, it reminds her of a goldsmith's work - the subtle rounding of the hard material, the coloration intended to impress.

slowly, she flips the switch. her facial expression, as stony as always, does not change even a bit as it whirrs to life in her hands. she examines it with grave and terrible intent, her thoughts soon becoming clear: ]

I see... It is a weapon.

[ well. perhaps. only hydaelyn knows how you'd incapacitate someone with this. ]

[ this world is unlike anything she's ever seen. the sheer energy radiating from every facet of every crystal in this place... it's mind-boggling in its scope. it's nothing like aldenard, or the la noscean coasts; this place shines in its aetherial splendor. and the facilities within the city are hardly any duller. she is struck by the sheer energy of it all, the eager whispers of the locals and the unfamiliar scenery distracting her enough to actually start answering questions.

your name? ] Renana Rena. [ your age? ] Twenty-nine years. [ your weight? ] Forty-two ponze.

[ the answers tumble out from her lips without conscious thought, her eyes focusing instead on the glittering skin of those around her and the general iridescence of this whole place. with each response, words flash along monitors:

RENANA RENA
29
42 PONZ[?]
are you sexually active? gets a response out of her, though - if a belated one. ]

I- what? I hardly think-

[ NOT SEXUALLY ACTIVE immediately flashes by on the screen. renana's face flushes red. ]

-I did not say that! I fail to see why-

[ SEXUALLY ACTIVE? ]

-you are being terribly rude, and I do not appreciate-

[ LAST SEXUAL ACTIVITY: TOO LONG? ]

Excuse me?!

[ someone might want to step in here - and soon, judging from the way she's starting to holler. ]

[ the transformation comes, and with it a peace unlike any other.

how long has it been, since she felt this- warmth? months? years? the burning rage is gone, replaced with the soft glow of peace. it is warmth; it is kindness; it is as she imagined hydaelyn's touch might feel, once, when she daydreamed of some greater destiny. of being her chosen, sent by the mothercrystal's light itself.

but it is not light which flows from her now. it is darkness itself, coagulating around her in ways both familiar and unknown. tendrils of it trail behind her, like the train of a ballgown she might have once worn, and about her head a sheen of it rests as a veil. two large tendrils guide her forward, and with a gentle wave of her hand she watches as the tentacle mirrors her own motions. it's only at the sound of footsteps behind her that she finally turns, her usual stony glare replaced by a confused smile. ]

Good evening. [ her sword lies on the ground, ignored for the first time since her arrival. ] Have you been blessed as well?