[1] The City of Aquares Ixen - A-14 || November 13
[Dorm situations were nothing new to Keith. Between foster homes from his childhood and his stint at Garrison he was more than familiar with process. That didn't mean he was happy to be returning to the situation. A year spent living alone in the desert researching mysterious voices had not done his already stunted social skills any favors. The time he'd spent with on the Castle of Lions had done a little work on easing him back into working with others, but the castle itself had been so huge that even living with 6 other people for weeks on end had not felt particularly jarring. Sure most of his team mates were loud, and weird, and immature, but they'd also been-
He shook his head to chase away the memories before they could set his heart pounding again. His team was fine, he'd get back to them soon. There was no reason to worry. Right now he had to focus on getting to his new housing situation and getting something a little more suited to the chilling temperatures sweeping the streets. The plate mail he'd woken up in was impressive, but it sure as hell wasn't insulated.]
How much further till we get there?
[He shot a look at the stuffed moogle that had been assigned to him, whiplash hitting him every time Lance spoke. Of all the personalities that had to follow him here, why did it have to be the blue paladin in stuffed animal form? It was giving him hives, the creeps, and maybe a little bit of homesickness for those who were waiting for him back home.]
Relax, Hero! I already told you it's right up ahead. You don't have to worry about being lost with me at your side. They used to call me the Moogle Compass for my sense of direction back at Mognet you know and. . .
[And off he went again. A sigh passed his lips, though he perked up easily enough when he looked around and spotted the sign for the house he'd been assigned. . . about three houses back from what they'd already passed. Raising an eyebrow at the still flying moogle he turned around and went back to the house. A brief glance down made sure the puppet thing following him was still at his side. That was something he'd handle later. For now he was unlocking the door and heading inside. He'd had his own room back at the castle. . . he better still have his own room.]
[2] The Voyage Home - Chocobo Farm || November 13
[After getting directions from the silver haired man in town, Keith had headed out to the Chocobo Farm to try and secure personal transportation. While he'd prefer something with the ability to fly, hew had a feeling that air travel required more specialized transport and passes that he currently did not have access to. The ability to get between towns on his own would be the first big step to getting a handle hold on this strange new world.
He kept repeating the directions in his head to keep his mind off the talk of other universes, other worlds besides his own that were at threat to this yawning calamity. That it was more likely than not that his universe had already been consumed and somehow he had been the only one to make it own. Keith grit his teeth and walked faster. Nope, his team was strong. They'd survived everything Zarkon had thrown at them and then some. They were back home, fine, recuperating from the wormhole. Hell, they might even be wandering around like him trying to figure out what was going on. The brisk pace of a soldier's march helped calm his thoughts, as well as warm his shivering frame. He'd been in such a rush to get out that he'd forgotten to get a coat, not that he had the money for such a thing anyway. Garrison might have had plenty of survival training, but they'd been stationed in the desert. The cold nights when the sun when down was very different to the frost he felt nipping in the wind. Transportation and then proper clothes, that was the only thing he was focused on right now.
Eventually a sound of something, warking(?), drew his attention. This must be the farm he had heard about. Keith quickly jogged of the way towards the sound, eager to get to his destination and somewhere warm. The little puppet at his side managed to keep pace just fine. The mooogle (Lance) did too, but seemed to do it on the poor fuel of many complaints. When he finally reached the first paddock Keith stopped dead, ignoring the feeling of the moogle bouncing off the back of his head. Were . . .those . . .?]
Giant chickens?
[He gasped and stared slack jawed at the multitude of giant, multi colored birds.]
[3] It's Never Too Early - Christmas What? || November 13
[The bright cheer of ginger and cinnamon spilling into the streets was giving Keith a vague sense of unease. After traveling for so long to alien locations, it was strange to see something so . . . familiar. How in the world was Christmas found here on a completely different universe? It made his head spin to be walking around in such a festive air considering he could still hear the screaming of his friends as the wormhole tore them apart.
The small ting of metal on metal pushed back his thoughts and drew his gaze downwards. The small metal puppet that had woken up beside him always stayed glued to his side. It reminded him of some of the kids on their first day of kindergarten, too scared to leave their mother's sides that they clung to their skirts. It didn't annoy him as much as he thought it would. On the other hand . . he shot a side long glance at his moogle. That flying plush toy he could do with out.
He huffed again and took a look down at the flyer another small moogle had stuffed into his hands. He still couldn't really believe it.]
no subject
[Dorm situations were nothing new to Keith. Between foster homes from his childhood and his stint at Garrison he was more than familiar with process. That didn't mean he was happy to be returning to the situation. A year spent living alone in the desert researching mysterious voices had not done his already stunted social skills any favors. The time he'd spent with on the Castle of Lions had done a little work on easing him back into working with others, but the castle itself had been so huge that even living with 6 other people for weeks on end had not felt particularly jarring. Sure most of his team mates were loud, and weird, and immature, but they'd also been-
He shook his head to chase away the memories before they could set his heart pounding again. His team was fine, he'd get back to them soon. There was no reason to worry. Right now he had to focus on getting to his new housing situation and getting something a little more suited to the chilling temperatures sweeping the streets. The plate mail he'd woken up in was impressive, but it sure as hell wasn't insulated.]
How much further till we get there?
[He shot a look at the stuffed moogle that had been assigned to him, whiplash hitting him every time Lance spoke. Of all the personalities that had to follow him here, why did it have to be the blue paladin in stuffed animal form? It was giving him hives, the creeps, and maybe a little bit of homesickness for those who were waiting for him back home.]
Relax, Hero! I already told you it's right up ahead. You don't have to worry about being lost with me at your side. They used to call me the Moogle Compass for my sense of direction back at Mognet you know and. . .
[And off he went again. A sigh passed his lips, though he perked up easily enough when he looked around and spotted the sign for the house he'd been assigned. . . about three houses back from what they'd already passed. Raising an eyebrow at the still flying moogle he turned around and went back to the house. A brief glance down made sure the puppet thing following him was still at his side. That was something he'd handle later. For now he was unlocking the door and heading inside. He'd had his own room back at the castle. . . he better still have his own room.]
[After getting directions from the silver haired man in town, Keith had headed out to the Chocobo Farm to try and secure personal transportation. While he'd prefer something with the ability to fly, hew had a feeling that air travel required more specialized transport and passes that he currently did not have access to. The ability to get between towns on his own would be the first big step to getting a handle hold on this strange new world.
He kept repeating the directions in his head to keep his mind off the talk of other universes, other worlds besides his own that were at threat to this yawning calamity. That it was more likely than not that his universe had already been consumed and somehow he had been the only one to make it own. Keith grit his teeth and walked faster. Nope, his team was strong. They'd survived everything Zarkon had thrown at them and then some. They were back home, fine, recuperating from the wormhole. Hell, they might even be wandering around like him trying to figure out what was going on. The brisk pace of a soldier's march helped calm his thoughts, as well as warm his shivering frame. He'd been in such a rush to get out that he'd forgotten to get a coat, not that he had the money for such a thing anyway. Garrison might have had plenty of survival training, but they'd been stationed in the desert. The cold nights when the sun when down was very different to the frost he felt nipping in the wind. Transportation and then proper clothes, that was the only thing he was focused on right now.
Eventually a sound of something, warking(?), drew his attention. This must be the farm he had heard about. Keith quickly jogged of the way towards the sound, eager to get to his destination and somewhere warm. The little puppet at his side managed to keep pace just fine. The mooogle (Lance) did too, but seemed to do it on the poor fuel of many complaints. When he finally reached the first paddock Keith stopped dead, ignoring the feeling of the moogle bouncing off the back of his head. Were . . .those . . .?]
Giant chickens?
[He gasped and stared slack jawed at the multitude of giant, multi colored birds.]
[The bright cheer of ginger and cinnamon spilling into the streets was giving Keith a vague sense of unease. After traveling for so long to alien locations, it was strange to see something so . . . familiar. How in the world was Christmas found here on a completely different universe? It made his head spin to be walking around in such a festive air considering he could still hear the screaming of his friends as the wormhole tore them apart.
The small ting of metal on metal pushed back his thoughts and drew his gaze downwards. The small metal puppet that had woken up beside him always stayed glued to his side. It reminded him of some of the kids on their first day of kindergarten, too scared to leave their mother's sides that they clung to their skirts. It didn't annoy him as much as he thought it would. On the other hand . . he shot a side long glance at his moogle. That flying plush toy he could do with out.
He huffed again and took a look down at the flyer another small moogle had stuffed into his hands. He still couldn't really believe it.]
Who still believes in Santa Clause?