luka-farwynd-blog

[luka-farwynd-blog]

She always calls my name, and I nearly always answer. 

Unfortunately, what I do isn't always in my control. Tell me, how fares the Isles?

It's about time...

But the sea, milady. Doesn’t she just call out your name?

Your brother is right about what an experience it will be though, that is correct, most definitely.

[luka-farwynd-blog]

I'm glad we shared the first reaction, Yohn thinks that it'll be... somehow beneficial? I don't know, I don't pretend to know.

It's about time...

...a horse?

[luka-farwynd-blog]

Ah, what's crippling pain in your thighs when you could be on a boat? My brother has it in his mind that this will be an experience we can't miss out on.

It's about time...

You’re off to the Isles?

Riding a horse the entire way, might prove a tad bit difficult milady…

.

[luka-farwynd-blog]

Thanks to you for the positive thoughts and well wishes. 

It's about time...

I hope your journey home is a safe one, my lady.

[luka-farwynd-blog]

It's about time...

We've finally departed for the Isles, I've never been so happy to be on a horse.

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I almost prefer the smell of piss. 

But regardless of any stink, Yohn keeps saying "just two more days." I've never seen an Ironborn so keen to stay so far from the Isles. 

I can't wait to be home.

That’s not the only thing it stinks of. It would almost be admirable that the inhabitants of Freeport have managed to spread the stench of piss all over the city, if it wasn’t so disgusting.

But I assume you’re leaving soon, then?

[luka-farwynd-blog]

Everything comes down to war, Stark. That's why I stay out of politics. It's survival more than smarts. I suspect that sooner rather than later, the people at the Feast will soon by killing each other's kin.

I like to think of men and women as a body. The man might be the head, but a head is useless without a neck. The neck turns the head, it shows it what it wants to. A want for power murdered most of my family, I try my best now to aim Yohn in a direction farther from politics than he'd usually sway. 

I can't wait to be home.

And with that being said, I knew things were too good to be true. If not as good, then too quiet. I just really hope it doesn’t come down to war. At least not when everyone’s finally coming to terms that things may just be fine.

To hell with what they think. A woman can do anything a man can and twice as better. Anyone who thinks so otherwise will only go down in humiliation. I really hope your brothers find it better to leave this matter alone or it may not end well. 

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Give it time, no one is happy with the status quo for long. Everyone wants more power, peace is an unattainable dream with the human condition. We celebrate our freedom, which I love. And don't get me wrong, I hope it stays this way. But the same men who tried to steal the seven kingdoms won't be happy with just a corner of the world. 

As for my brother's plans, I won't speak for certain on things I'm not completely sure of. But suffice it to say that no Ironborn man likes the idea of a queen where they think a man should sit. 

I can't wait to be home.

Then for your sake, I hope it all works out. Though, I do have a question.. Why the need for deceptive ways when all anyone’s trying to do is create peace? So far, it seems that everything’s fine just the way it is. Do you know of your brother’s plans and what he wants to do? I’m not trying to pry, I suppose I’m just curious. I thought everyone should be happy with the way things are right now.

[luka-farwynd-blog]

No offense intended, and none taken. It's absolutely true, but call it a fools hope. 

Politics are deception, and I've always felt that deception was a woman's game. I think that, [she pauses for a moment a smile touches her lips.] Perhaps it would be best  to let my brother think I'm doing him some good, my own form of deception. Familial politics, so to speak.

I can't wait to be home.

Two days always turn into four days somehow. Sorry, that probably isn’t helping, but why not stay indoors? That way you can avoid getting involved in politics.

Help? How exactly would you be able to help? It’s obvious you’re not interested in politics and a person with disinterest could do anything to help. No offense intended.

[luka-farwynd-blog]

I've been told two days, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's longer. My brother wants to make friends in all the right places.

He's under the mistaken impression I might help. By the gods, you'd think he was plotting a coo.

I can't wait to be home.

Still haven’t left yet? How long until you finally get to leave?

[luka-farwynd-blog]

I can't wait to be home.

Freeport is a bit much for my liking.

It stinks of hidden agendas and politics. 

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Luka righted herself, her hand still outstretched. There was a moment where she felt genuinely apologetic, but that moment was short lived. It was the way the older woman spoke to her, the way she scolded her like a child. It made her skin crawl with a sort of disdain.

"Though I do apologise, I beg you to do the same. It takes four legs to drive two bodies together," she smiled sweetly, but there was a light tone of indignation under her layers of sweetness. She looked the other woman over, trying to identify as much as she could. If there was one thing Luka had been blessed with, it was the gift of observation. 

There was something in the way she moved, the pride that she carried on the whisps of her hair. This woman had to be from the North. Had Luka spent more time paying attention to her brother's attempts to civilize her, Luka might have had more idea -- and honestly more care -- as to who the woman was. 

There had always been a varying array of feelings that Luka had towards the North. The strongest and most powerful was a feeling of remorse. Despite being a free nation now, she couldn't help but remember back on all they had lost. Her father had taken the death of Ned Stark as a celebration, as the Stark's penance for stealing the Iron Isles' rightful heir. It hadn't been until after the Red Wedding that the Farwynds had said their silent prayers for the North, knowing that there could be nothing more horrible than the betrayal of guest rights.

The other feeling was less sympathetic. It was a distrust that had grown within her since the Bolton bastard had ruined Theon Greyjoy, and in the eyes of so many Ironborn men, destroyed the Isles.

She pulled her hair behind her ears and shrugged casually, every movement seeming fluid and loose. 

Ocean Breathes Salty || Open

Alys was ready to leave this place. The business of the city combined with the heat was driving her mad, and she just wished to return home, to be with her people, to have a private moment with her husband. 

Freeport was beautiful but blasted hot and damned she was if she was forced to stay a few days longer. She was ready to leave on a moments notice, but that left her plenty of wandering about time, such that she took advantage of now, exploring the ancient halls of the kingdom. 

She gazed upon a tapestry, depicting one of the old Targaryen kings riding a dragon—she cared not which king—and touched the tapestry lightly, before averting her gaze, and continuing her way through the stone halls.

At that moment, a petite brunette girl barreled into her. Alys stumbled, catching herself on the stone wall to stop herself from falling. She heard a voice apologizing, and looked to see a young girl speaking to her. She straightened herself, brushing her hands off on her dress, looking down at the other girl.

"Could have happened to anyone though I’d suggest you pay attention to where you’re going." Alys replied sharply, eyes alight with irritation. 

[luka-farwynd-blog]

Ocean Breathes Salty || Open

Luka could smell the saltwater on the air from the window of her room, her brother's voice booming not too far off to someone she couldn't quite place the voice of. It was foreign, like so much else of this place. The idea of such uncertainty excited her in any normal circumstance, but this place, this wretched place made her ill. Freeport -- King's Landing -- whatever it was called now, it reeked of absolute politics. Not that politics had a smell, of course. Since their arrival in Freeport, Luka had not once left her room. Unless, of course, you counted the few adventures over the tall and tan structures with Marella. 

As she stood, her hair fell from her braided bun -- which some handmaiden had attempted to perfect, unaware that Luka would pick away at the masterpiece until it fell down her back in curls --  kissing her neck in small whisps. She had, in an act of knowing defiance refused to attend the "Feast of Independence" with her elder brother. Not because she hated the idea of the separate nations, or because she held any ill-will towards the other free states. It was more of a way of reminding her brother, Yohn, how much she despised his love of politics. His desire to further himself and his standing. It was as if every Ironborne had some agenda, and she was the only one who wanted nothing more than to live and love and be left alone.

Luka took a look at Marella, who was staring back at her from her perch and she let a small smile touch her lips. The sun caught her hair, and she turned her face towards it's warmth. The warmth, she noted, was something about the south she could get used to. But she wanted nothing more than to go back home to the isles, and she counted the hours until they embarked back home. 

Ignoring her brother's voice, which rose steadily with the quiet anger of the Farwynds carried behind it, Luka sauntered towards the door. Deciding that in her final two days in Freeport, Luka would finally see the world below the sky. Her bare feet made no sound against the stone, and her green dress moved softly in the breeze like sea foam. It was strange, how suited she was to the southern ways. Though, it was only a superficial fit. In reality, there might have been no free state that Luka was entirely fitted to. The politics of all of them were enough to make her stomach churn. 

She was lost in her own imaginings when she collided right into someone else, doubling over with her hand out as if trying to apologise but was too struck with shock.

"Oh, by the gods. I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking."

[luka-farwynd-blog]

ooc;

hey, I'm kat and obvi I play Luka.

I'm having trouble figuring out where to throw myself in, could someone message me a "last week on..." overview? even after exploring the tag, I'm confused as to who is who and where is where.

also, is there a place for ooc blather?

[luka-farwynd-blog]

Luka Farwynd • “Lady" in the Isles • Warg: Albatross • Unmarried Home Location: Great Wyk • OPEN • FC Flexible: Crystal Reed

History: The House of Farwynd has long been known as a ‘queer’ people, their ways mysterious and strange to those who do not know them. They like to keep their distance because they consider themselves more worldly than their strictly-Ironborn counterparts. While they themselves are Ironborn and pious of the Drowned God, the cadet branch of Farwynd of the Lonely Light are all wargs by blood. The skinchangers select sea animals to bond with, seals being the most popular, though some select walruses. The people spend whole days warging, spending time with one another in their animal forms, exploring the sea more intimately than they ever could in their human skins. They consider themselves the Drowned God’s enlightened few. Because of this, it does give them a very different perspective than other Westerosi; they aren’t short-sighted to only the views of humans, but also the greater machinations of the world as a whole. They understand that humans are just a part of a greater plan and that they, too, may just wind up as a blip on history’s radar. As such, the Farwynds are a very ‘queer’ people: both incredibly calm and peaceful, but also intent of self-preservation and survival, which makes them seem selfish when they always put their own needs first, even over those of their own families. Most Farwynds don’t choose sea birds because wargs one another of choosing flying beasts—once in the body of a bird, it’s hard to come back to land. Luka didn’t care. Even if she had to come back to earth once in awhile, it was worth it just to spread her wings. Her albatross, Marella, can fly just shy of 1,000 miles in a single session if she likes. While others regard Luka as odd, even among her own people, she has never found it in herself to care.

Luka largely doesn’t care for the politics of the realm and doesn’t have a vested interest in who sits the Seastone Chair. She was excited when her father, Lord Gylbert, put his name forward for it, if only because he was her father. She went along with her three older brothers, Gyles, Ygon, and Yohn, all of whom championed him. Her father wanted to show the other Ironborn what they had witnessed, what they knew of life and the sea, and wanted to take them to the lands beyond the Sunset Sea. No man had ever sailed there and returned… but the Farwynds didn’t have to sail to see it. Everyone discounted her father as a cook and disregarded his gifts as useful for only lesser men. She was young then, but she remembered how easily he was dismissed despite his knowledge, his bid for politicking swept over like the tides over pearls. It disillusioned Luka from ever wanting to rule because she saw how quickly support can come and go. Her eldest brother, Gyles, died when the greenlanders threw back the Ironborn from the Shield Islands in the reach and her second eldest, Ygon, died crewing Lady Gysella’s ship when she fought in the War of the Others. With only Yohn left, she treasured him, the new Lord and her only family still alive, to turn aside political interests as she had for the good of their survival. He assented, though admitted there was still politics involved in being Lord. Luka hopes that he lives forever so she never has to assume Ladyship of Lonely Light. A small benefit of their family’s blood, though, is that whenever she misses her brothers too much, she can go down to the shore and find them living still inside their seals. In that way, she is still never too far from those she’s loved.

Personality: Luka is a free spirit, a dreamer, a girl made of wind and water who is uncatchable. What she touches is hers and what touches her can’t hold her. She doesn’t try to fight the tide: she takes what life throws at her and works with it to her advantage, rather than against it, and goes with the flow. She always has a far-off look in her eyes that seems to suggest she’s in another world, and sometimes, she is, lost in her own thoughts and mind. Luka is very friendly, but often comes off as odd, since her observations tend not to be the thoughts of other people. People mistake her calmness for serenity, but she can be just as fierce as the other Ironborn; she just doesn’t wear her fierceness threateningly, as instead she is strong in her core. She is an excellent hunter, skilled with bow-and-arrow, often using Marella’s sight to help her with difficult targets. She believes that life is only what you make of it as you go and putting yourself in unnecessary danger is foolish. Luka spends a lot of time warging because she secretly wishes to forever be an animal and be free of the complications and politics of human life which only dull people to the world around them.