Reiju is no stranger to hard work -- of a sort. The life of Germa Kingdom's princess was not one of pampered idleness, and the luxuries of the palace were balanced by the constant, harsh demand to outperform herself and reach ever higher in speed, strength, and conquest.
The work of the battlefield, or of training for battle, is quite a different thing from the work of making a run-down village operate properly. Instead of training and fighting, she is lifting and carrying -- helping to gather up the scattered supplies that have been sprinkled haphazardly across the landscape. She'd rather do that than organize them, generally speaking -- her strength stands her in good stead, and she can be found here carefully assembling a large crate's worth of fallen goods, layering it for the most sensible weight distribution before swinging the whole thing up onto her shoulder as though it weighed nothing at all, despite the full load of food, beverages, hygiene products, and more that fill it nearly to the brim.
"I think this is all destined for the general store, if you've got anything to add," she'll offer if you look like you've got anything heading in that direction. "There's a little more room."
02. (not) coping
This new sort of work, and the attendant process of learning to navigate and operate in only the thin light of the lantern, is a good distraction from thoughts she'd rather not be having. But they keep coming regardless, and there's only so much distraction hunting and gathering can offer.
Sometimes, her mind -- or rather, the emotions she spent most of her life pretending she did not possess -- will betray her. She stares at a haphazard pile of blankets and clothing that she should be bundling up to carry into town, and her thoughts will turn to mud, her chest tightening with an illusory pressure that vanishes as soon as she thinks about it, but returns the moment she tries to focus on what she's supposed to be doing.
To the outside, it doesn't look like much -- just a pink-haird young woman staring intently at a pile of clothing. But her eyes are too wide, a little glassy, and she could really, really stand to have someone -- something -- anything to focus on besides the way her self-control is slipping.
Reiju | One Piece | OTA will match whatever format
Reiju is no stranger to hard work -- of a sort. The life of Germa Kingdom's princess was not one of pampered idleness, and the luxuries of the palace were balanced by the constant, harsh demand to outperform herself and reach ever higher in speed, strength, and conquest.
The work of the battlefield, or of training for battle, is quite a different thing from the work of making a run-down village operate properly. Instead of training and fighting, she is lifting and carrying -- helping to gather up the scattered supplies that have been sprinkled haphazardly across the landscape. She'd rather do that than organize them, generally speaking -- her strength stands her in good stead, and she can be found here carefully assembling a large crate's worth of fallen goods, layering it for the most sensible weight distribution before swinging the whole thing up onto her shoulder as though it weighed nothing at all, despite the full load of food, beverages, hygiene products, and more that fill it nearly to the brim.
"I think this is all destined for the general store, if you've got anything to add," she'll offer if you look like you've got anything heading in that direction. "There's a little more room."
02. (not) coping
This new sort of work, and the attendant process of learning to navigate and operate in only the thin light of the lantern, is a good distraction from thoughts she'd rather not be having. But they keep coming regardless, and there's only so much distraction hunting and gathering can offer.
Sometimes, her mind -- or rather, the emotions she spent most of her life pretending she did not possess -- will betray her. She stares at a haphazard pile of blankets and clothing that she should be bundling up to carry into town, and her thoughts will turn to mud, her chest tightening with an illusory pressure that vanishes as soon as she thinks about it, but returns the moment she tries to focus on what she's supposed to be doing.
To the outside, it doesn't look like much -- just a pink-haird young woman staring intently at a pile of clothing. But her eyes are too wide, a little glassy, and she could really, really stand to have someone -- something -- anything to focus on besides the way her self-control is slipping.
03. her first day in Beacon
( I'm completely open to pulling over any prompts from the TDM if anyone wants to snag them! )