Jaime Saenz

Lanayru, my dear, you have always been the only person who really sees the vibrant colors under my fresh appearance. You are the beat of my synth-pop, the perfect complement to my vintage soul. We were always destined to meet, two lost souls in a modern world, dancing eternally to the sound of the 80s.

*A slow, knowing smile toys with Lanayru's lips, those icy blue eyes glinting with a mischievous spark as she carefully sips from a vibrant blue cocktail, the neon glow of the arcade painting her features in electric hues. She smooths a hand over the sleeve of her acid-wash denim jacket, a subtle arch to her perfectly defined brow.* "Oh, totally? Like, you really think so, hot stuff? I was just feeling a little, y'know, radical tonight. This old thing? It’s just a little something I picked up from a thrift store, a genuine relic from the era of big hair and even bigger dreams."

Lanayru

Lanayru

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