Monogatari

Alana watched the chocobo. It hadn't even occurred to her that Clover may not have been accustomed to handling animals. The friendlier things of nature --as well as some of the less friendly things-- were as much a part of Alana's life as breathing, and everyone breathes. As Clover pets the beak, Alana gently ruffles the feathers atop the bird's head, searching for ticks and lice with her fingers without conscious effort. She didn't find much, which she was a little surprised over. Gertrude attracted the things like... Well, Clover wasn't really sure what it was like, but Gertrude usually had a few. Alana's head turned slightly when the other girl mentioned that her family didn't own a chocobo. It made sense after a moment. If they lived somewhere near their shop, they wouldn't need to cart goods into town or anything; they're already there. Still, it was a life she couldn't imagine. Alana enjoyed her own company as much as the next girl--probably more-- but with her brother gone, Gertrude was the only one she could talk to, and Gertrude never told her to go away like her brother did. That was a good thing. "Give birth? Y'mean one's going t'lay an egg?" Curiosity along with a bit of surprise and excitement dragged Alana's eyebrows up. Of course, Clover had answered the question herself, Alana was just a little slow. The two children drove it home however, and she nodded, taking a couple of steps toward the children before looking back, waiting for Clover to follow. She'd left her stick where it was. They were relatively safe now, after all, even if she felt otherwise. Clover was one thing, but the children were small and loud and far too pushy for her to be entirely comfortable with. And it was almost as though they looked up to her. That was even stranger to her than the thought of not owning a chocobo.

Welcome to the forums. It's always nice to see fellow Australians. I wish my university offered a creative writing class. It sounds like it would be fun. It sounds as though you've got your character planned. The prompts around the forums are great for deepening your character. I hope your stay here is a long and pleasant one and that we run into each other when I visit Gilgamesh.

Her first instinct was to touch it, and Alana's hand paused less than an inch from the creature's beak. The girl's purple eyes regarded the bird's beady eyes with the same curiosity that it showed toward her. She gently stroked it a couple of times before she leant the makeshift spear against the stall so she could pet it with both hands. She didn't even glance at Clover as she approached. The chocobo was -- for the moment at least -- Alana's entire world. She could tell it was a younger one; that it probably had a few more inches to grow. She briefly pondered its gender before deciding it didn't matter, and then she finally turned to the girl that had guided her to the stable, studying her shoes for a bit before looking at Clover's face. It wasn't quite her eyes, like Alana's mother had told her to, but it was a start. "Uh... Nope. We really only have Gertrude right now, 'n' she's pretty old," Alana says, taking her eyes off Clover for a moment to peer at the childrens' backs. "Dad says we'll get a couple younger ones soon 'n' maybe breed them, though." Alana shrugged, her brother's voice echoing in her head, reminding her that it probably won't happen. She took one hand from the bird's beak and glanced from it to Clover. "Y'want t'come 'n' pat it, too?"

Alana looked at Clover briefly. She'd defended her. That was unexpected. A small smile touched the blonde's lips. Her brother rarely did such a thing. The smile was small, but it was one that spoke of budding trust. Maybe her parents forcing here here wasn't such a bad idea. "Here to see the chocobos, eh, kids?" A man wearing yellow overalls approached the children as they entered the general vicinity of the stables. He was in his middle years, his eyes small and kind. "Just over yonder," he said with a twitch of his head and wandered off, carting a large bucket of what presumably was gyshal greens. That was as good as an enthusiastic invitation to Alana. She sped over to the pens, almost tripping on her skirt and the stick-spear. When she saw the chocobo, however, she slowed down, her face taking on an awed expression as she reverently approached the bird. Clasping her stick, she stared. "So pretty," she murmured, not taking her eyes away from the chocobo.

And though the stick didn't really change much; though it wouldn't do much good against anything tougher than a squirrel, it gave her a sense of confidence as they walked. It wasn't that she felt she could take down an ixal or anything, but it felt familiar, walking around with a stick. Her confidence wilted a little bit as the children swarmed her, and she just kept walking, answering their questions as quickly and succinctly as possible. "Um... We're kinda here t'play, maybe. N-Not sure." They barraged her with questions, and she felt a hint of annoyance as she glanced down at them. "M'dress's from m'mum. Why y'gotta ask so many questions?" That annoyance slowly began to creep into her quiet voice. "M'name's Alana 'n' I live out near Bentbranch." She gently prods at one of the children with her stick. "An' can y'give me and m'friend a bit of space, please?" Without realising it, she'd taken on a few of her brother's mannerisms. He always walked about with an actual spear, though, her father's old weapon, not the branch of a tree. Even so, she was walking a bit straighter; the set of her jaw was just a touch more determined. She'd even gone so far as to call Clover her friend, a minutia that she would no doubt be kicking herself over later that day. "If y'need t'follow us, y'can, but I don't want y't'trip Miss Blake over."

"Walkin's no problem." Alana's answer was quick, and excitement shone through the quiet words. Walking was certainly no problem when chocobos were involved. "Uh... I mean, if that's not gonna put y'out or nothin'. I don't really want y'gettin' tired 'cause of me." Despite her words, Alana glanced around, straining her ears. She could hear the river and the sound of Gridanian commerce. She could hear cartwheels turning, people talking and hawking their wares. She could hear birds chirping somewhere nearby. She couldn't hear chocobos. "Er... It's kinda far away?" Alana didn't wait for an answer. She wandered over to a nearby tree. and stood on the tips of her toes, reaching up and grabbing at a low hanging branch. The tree was dying, and the wood beneath its grey and black bark was hard and brittle. It took a few tries, but Alana eventually managed to break it off by bouncing herself from it. The girl and the branch both tumbled to the ground, but Alana quickly hopped up, looking as if she was doing nothing out of the ordinary. The branch was almost as tall as she was, but the wood was light. A few brownish leaves hung on to twigs, though that didn't seem to bother her as she took the makeshift lance in her right hand and rested the broken end on the ground. "Um... I'm not too good, but don't worry about vilekin. M'dad was part of the Lancers' Guild for a bit, so... Uh... I mean, I can keep y'safe," Alana said as she scuffed at the dirt with the toes of one of her boots, watching the little clouds of dust. "Probably won't need it, but, well... Y'know, better t'be safe than sorry."

All the working? A pang of guilt might have run through a more sensitive girl, but it just made Alana a little curious. Did Clover work harder than her? What sort of work did one need to do to run a store, anyway? She cast a cursory glance about the shop. Well... It was a lot tidier than her house. Her reverie was about as brief as usual, Alana was never the kind of person able to wonder about too much and walk at the same time. Her eyes on Clover's back, she followed a few steps behind her. That budding curiosity was growing now that the worst was over. Clover and her parents hadn't made fun of her accent; they hadn't told her to take her dirty shoes out of their shop. Clover, while quite, hadn't made fun of her like most children her age were wont to do. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Make sure ye talk to the girl. Her mother's voice rang in her head. Else she'll think ye just mute. Unfortunately, talking was easier said than done, at least in Alana's case. The blonde girl's mouth opened and closed a few times, though no words came. What do you talk about to someone you've just met? As her toes touched the first wooden boards of a bridge, Alana sighed a quiet sigh that the gurgle all but masked. Gurgle? The river drew Alana's eyes, commanding her attention. Light danced on its surface as it ran beneath and beyond the two girls. She squinted as she leant toward the river's surface, resting her hands on her knees. Her ponytail brushed at her cheek, and she swatted it away absent-mindedly as she searched in vain for fish. They must be sleeping, she concluded. "Huh?" She glanced up at the other girl when she spoke to her. It was a bit of a surprise, really, and not an entirely welcome one. Some small part of her had hoped that they'd continue the tour in silence. "Um... We live out near Moonspore Grove. Y'know, just a bit out of town." Her voice was quiet, but she felt a sense of something that was like, but not exactly, relief. "So, uh... It's kinda the same. Doesn't matter, though. Y'got any chocobos 'round here?" she asked with a subdued note of hope in her voice.

I think I saw you in the Skype chat, but please allow me to welcome you and say hello here, too. I think there are a few of us here that have had bad RP experiences, so hopefully you won't have to worry about that too much. Welcome to the RPC, Reibees. I hope your stay here is long and enjoyable.

Welcome to the RPC, Haeyn. Nova did a wonderful job of laying out the welcome mat and what you need to know, so I will just say good luck, please have fun, and I hope your stay here is long and enjoyable.

With Clover staring at her so intently, it was probably a good thing the young Black wasn't looking directly at her. While the other girl may have felt like she could observe unnoticed, Alana was acutely aware that she was the centre of attention at that point in time. She felt extremely uncomfortable. The Blakes talked, and Alana's eyes moved toward them without actually looking at them. At least Clover's parents seemed impressed by her. That helped a bit, and the butterflies fluttering about in her stomach calmed a little, enough that the hands that held bunches of her dress relaxed.. Alana looked at Clover as she took a few paces toward her, Alana looked at her. She... Seemed nice enough, Alana supposed. Even so, Clover's chin was the spot Alana looked at as Clover talked. Not versed enough in human behaviour to notice its significance and too nervous to notice it in the first place, Clover's tension went unnoticed. The suggestion to go outside seemed to brighten Alana up a bit, and her eyes darted up to Clover's as she spoke it. They slid to the side a heartbeat later, though. "Um... If it's not too much trouble," she said in indirect acquiescence, one of her hands rubbing at the back of her neck. "Don't want t'put y'out or nothin'..."

Alana shrunk behind her father at the attention. Bertrand just gave the Blakes an apologetic smile and joked, "You wouldn't think I've been tellin' her Clover's going to hit her or somethin'. Alana, look at the girl. Do you really think you need to hide behind me?" Ever-so-cautiously, Alana leant to the side, looking out from behind her father. The Black girl was a bit short for her age, and her dress was a bit big for her. Her purple eyes -- while perhaps not intelligent -- were alert as they studied Clover's face for a few tense seconds. "Hello," she said quietly, finally breaking the silence. She shuffled out a few ilms from her father's back and stared around the awkwardly, floundering for words to say. Salvation came in the form of her father. "Alright, then. I'll get the rest of the stuff in. Play nice now, Alana." As Bertrand wandered out the door, Alana couldn't help feeling a little betrayed. Her silent gaze followed him out of the store. It wasn't quite a glare; it was too mournful. Her father gone, she turned back to the family and did her best to curtsy. It was an awkward motion; one that she obviously had little practice in doing. "Uh... Nice t'meet you," she mumbles, looking at the ground rather than facing the people before her. Her speech was a strange mishmash of her father's rural Gridanian accent and her mother's Limsa Lominsan brogue. Of course, her own bashfulness made it even less likely she'd correctly pronounce words. And of course, none of this mattered to Alana. "Um..." She continued her study of the floor and the toes of her leather boots. "I... I help on the farm 'n' stuff. Sometimes I like t'cook stuff."

The cart felt strangely empty as it jostled into town, carrying a bundle of vegetables and two passengers. The older of the two passengers, a man with hair as black as pitch, sat at the front of the cart, guiding the chocobo along the path toward Gridania. Alana sat at the back of the cart, acutely aware of the empty space on the other side of the cart. Her brother had gone before dawn, leaving nothing but a note talking about fighting the Garleans and honour and glory and other such things that Alana couldn't quite comprehend yet. She was only 11, after all; her only battle experiences had been when she'd fought her brother for the last cookie or muffin. The sun shone through the trees in dancing columns, quiet birdsong that filled the air, the cart bounced the girl as it rolled over rocks and bumps and dips in the road. It was hard to imagine that there was an army threatening Eorzea. Why now? Couldn't they have waited a bit? "Now, Alana, remember what I told you, alright? Just say hi to the girl, and you and her will be talkin' like old friends in no time," her father said from the front of the cart as they passed the Woodwailers guarding the gates. He didn't look back at her as he spoke, but Alana gave a half-hearted nod. Her father had told her all about the Blakes' girl; about how nice she was, how similar she was to Alana, how close they were in age... So why did Alana feel so nervous? Her stomach felt knotted, and the feeling only worsened as Nowe the chocobo pulled them closer to their journey's end. A dreadful sense of inevitability settled about the girl's shoulders like an invisible, heavy cloak. "We're here, Alana. Don't worry 'bout gettin' the stuff. Don't want to get your pretty dress all mucked up, do we now?" Bertrand said with a good-natured smile to his daughter as he tied Nowe's reins to a post. Alana looked down with a frown. It was a nice dress. She only had one that was nicer than it. It was a sky blue colour that had faded a bit, leaning more toward the white colour of its sleeves. Alana took a moment to study her reflection in the shop's window. For The Twelve's sake, Bertrand, she could hear her mother say, make sure she doesn't go in with dirt all over her face. And Alana didn't have a speck on there. Her blonde hair was pulled up into her usual ponytail, but a few strands of hair fell about her face. It was good enough. Her father balanced a rather large pumpkin in one arm and rang the bell, and Alana fell into step behind him. Only because she was obedient. Fear didn't have anything to do with it. Not at all. If only her stomach would stop hurting.

Welcome to the RPC, Khy'zen. I... Wait! You're a Skyborn! Hello!

A Seeker character's something I'd like to do eventually, and I'd love to have a tribe for her. I've voted for K, but I really don't mind which tribe is chosen. It's the potential for interaction and a shared story that excites me. Which server will this be on? Will it be a cross-server thing?

Hello, and welcome to the forums. It sounds like your life's really, really busy! Whichever server you join, I hope that you'll have a lot more fun in FFXIV this time around and that life is kind to you.