[The redheaded mechanic's eyes fluttered open, and the grogginess lasted for only half a second before she's suddenly upright, scrabbling clumsily up to her feet. Her body isn't nearly as awake and alert as her mind is, but it's catching up fast. She stumbles slightly and her fists are up as if expecting an attack. Green eyes flick left and right as she breathes hard, brow lowered darkly.]
[But then she sees Moogles. And a glowing orange crystal. And people clad in armor and robes.]
....th' hell...?
[Wary anger slowly fades, replaced by abject confusion. Her fists lower slightly as she stands a little straighter. She's still absolutely on guard, and if you're unfortunate to come up behind her in this state, then she absolutely pivots with lightning speed and throws a shockingly fierce punch into your face.]
[Those approaching from the front might get a more civil response. ...might.]
------------------------
8. Exploration (Trano Golsaucia)
[Allie can do without the beautiful stretches of wilderness, and snow-capped mountains, and damnable monsters. She's a city girl, always has been, always will be. Trano Golsaucia appeals to her so much more than most of the other places on this tiny world she got dropped on.]
[Especially when she's winning big piles of money.]
[The other poker players sigh in exasperation as Allie lays down her cards, her face void of any expression, and reaches out to gather the pot. Winning, losing, bluffing, folding, her features don't change with even so much as a tic. Except for this last hand. She'd allowed the corner of her lip to twitch just ever so slightly when she received a replacement for the cards she'd pushed back toward the dealer. Most folded. She won with a pair of Cids.]
[She could tell when the atmosphere was growing hostile, and she could tell that the other players weren't pleased to be losing consistently to the woman sitting in front of them. So she sweeps the gil into a pouch, cinches it tight, and touches two fingers to her brow in lieu of a goodbye. Then she turns to stride away.]
[Her movements are almost mannish in nature -- her hips don't sway, and her elbows protrude outward with hands loosely balled into fists. It might not discourage rougher sorts who might try to jump her on her way to her room at the inn, but it might stop some of those thoughts from taking seed in the first place. Her physique is lean and well toned, but she's not beefy enough to be intimidating, so it's all about body language and the expression she wears, both of which broadcast loudly: 'Don't touch me or I'll kick your ass.']
Allie Stoklasa | OC
Th' hell!!
[The redheaded mechanic's eyes fluttered open, and the grogginess lasted for only half a second before she's suddenly upright, scrabbling clumsily up to her feet. Her body isn't nearly as awake and alert as her mind is, but it's catching up fast. She stumbles slightly and her fists are up as if expecting an attack. Green eyes flick left and right as she breathes hard, brow lowered darkly.]
[But then she sees Moogles. And a glowing orange crystal. And people clad in armor and robes.]
....th' hell...?
[Wary anger slowly fades, replaced by abject confusion. Her fists lower slightly as she stands a little straighter. She's still absolutely on guard, and if you're unfortunate to come up behind her in this state, then she absolutely pivots with lightning speed and throws a shockingly fierce punch into your face.]
[Those approaching from the front might get a more civil response. ...might.]
------------------------
8. Exploration (Trano Golsaucia)
[Allie can do without the beautiful stretches of wilderness, and snow-capped mountains, and damnable monsters. She's a city girl, always has been, always will be. Trano Golsaucia appeals to her so much more than most of the other places on this tiny world she got dropped on.]
[Especially when she's winning big piles of money.]
[The other poker players sigh in exasperation as Allie lays down her cards, her face void of any expression, and reaches out to gather the pot. Winning, losing, bluffing, folding, her features don't change with even so much as a tic. Except for this last hand. She'd allowed the corner of her lip to twitch just ever so slightly when she received a replacement for the cards she'd pushed back toward the dealer. Most folded. She won with a pair of Cids.]
[She could tell when the atmosphere was growing hostile, and she could tell that the other players weren't pleased to be losing consistently to the woman sitting in front of them. So she sweeps the gil into a pouch, cinches it tight, and touches two fingers to her brow in lieu of a goodbye. Then she turns to stride away.]
[Her movements are almost mannish in nature -- her hips don't sway, and her elbows protrude outward with hands loosely balled into fists. It might not discourage rougher sorts who might try to jump her on her way to her room at the inn, but it might stop some of those thoughts from taking seed in the first place. Her physique is lean and well toned, but she's not beefy enough to be intimidating, so it's all about body language and the expression she wears, both of which broadcast loudly: 'Don't touch me or I'll kick your ass.']