cw: minor mentions of war, discussions of possible character deathSo, it seems that my Blessed Day is in fact the same day as my birthday.
[ Luna speaks off camera, busy trying to put her Omni in the right place. It takes a couple of moments, but the initial view of Luna's room: all soft lighting, bright but peaceful tones across the space, is finally obscured as Luna steps into the frame to sit at her desk, something in her hand. She waves to the camera with a cheerful smile in greeting before she continues with what she's addressing. With a soft sound, she lugs the item in her hand onto her desk and then carefully holds it up to the camera of her Omni to show it.
It's a sword: the Blade of Agency, to be precise. Luna gazes down at it with faint bemusement; of course Doorway would gift a sword, considering they appear with one at all times. But Luna's... not quite sure what to do with it. She's a Witch, not a sword-swinger. Not that she's ungrateful, and she certainly doesn't mean to come across as that as she stares at the sword. ]I found this propped up against the wall of my room this morning. A gift from Doorway, my Patron.
[ Her head twists one way in thought, brow pinching. It's a fine looking blade, she thinks. Although she's not very knowledgeable in that department. ] It... feels special. I don't think it's just a regular sword.
[ She can't really tell how, though. She should really find some way to find that out before she goes about using it. Ravenclaws err on the side of caution in the face of magic swords. ]... Although if I'm meant to use it, I've never actually swung a sword before.
[ ... ] I believe I shall need some help with that.
[ Should anyone be interested in that. There's a long pause; Luna smiles faintly. She would turn the feed off at that but something else is on her mind. She's quiet for a little while, putting the sword down carefully down on her desk once more. It's... something difficult, the way her expression shifts. Not something necessarily bad, but— ]... I turned twenty today.
[ She lets that settle for a moment before she continues. Her voice is hushed, a little sombre in some way. She fiddles with her hands as she goes on: ] It's quite funny, you know. Not being a teenager anymore. Well, not just that part, really.
I suppose— I guess I never expected to live past seventeen.
[ A short pause, there's a sudden realisation. She smiles weakly. ] Although I realise that doesn't quite funny at all when you say it out loud, does it?
[ More like horrifying, than anything else. Sometimes Luna has that uncanny knack for making people uncomfortable with the things she says; but it's a truth of her home. She was headed to battle before Trench, before Deerington. It was quite possible she'd never make out to the other side of that battle. Even people as young as she was die in war, she understands that. But now, here, she's made it out of her teens and into the first steps of adulthood. It's given her a great deal of cause for ruminating. ] I've learned a lot about different things; different magic, and ways people live. Especially Muggles. ... I've met a lot of people, made friends. I've gotten to experience a lot of new things in those friendships I didn't have the chance to get to at home. I even met someone who I love very much.
[ Her weak smile turns to something fonder, there's warmth there. Perhaps it's quite fitting that Doorway is her Patron, after all. Her relationships are important to her. But don't worry, she's not going to get too mushy over her boyfriend over the network. ]I know for as difficult life here can be, for as hard Deerington was... this place is a kind of opportunity. It's let me have a great deal of things I didn't think I
could have. Things I would have likely never had the chance to experience if I had never come here and stayed in my own world. It's a chance at living. One I didn't think I would get.
[ ... ]I think that's quite important to remember. When things are difficult. Or when I
do miss home sometimes.
[ She goes quiet again, lost in her thoughts for a little bit. Even now, trying to pull the positives here in a world that has much stacked against them. Her expression turning to a serene dreaminess as she props her elbows on her desk, chin in her hands. So: ] ... What are you glad for the opportunity for, Sleepers?