[SOCLLA] thoris, nora

◊ Nora was always a rather fair-skinned child when she was younger, having to take greater care not to burn versus some of the other children.

◊ When she was born, her hair was platinum blonde, but now it's darkened to a sandy, golden, flax color. Out of tradition, she grows it long, only trimming the ends when they start fraying.

◊ She used to put her hair in traditional braids, but out of need to hide her identity, she just lets it down and wears a bucket hat as her disguise, because what self respecting soclla would wear a bucket hat?

◊ Taller than average, Nora reaches five foot ten inches if she stand up straight.

◊ Most of her body is covered in scarification tattoos of swirling patterns and symbols; the only bare parts are her extremities, as she left before she earned those.

◊ Most of her clothing choices are to cover those tattoos. She rarely reveals them, first out of shame and now out of convenience.

◊ Her large brown eyes are her most distinguishing features, with a rather small nose a petite mouth, it gives her a childlike air.

◊ With a slim frame, Nora's never really been athletically fit, though she's fleet-footed in the forest. All her life, she's led a mostly vegetarian diet, used to meat as a special gift during celebrations.

◊ With an intense eagerness for learning, Nora's always had a rather childlike curiosity that she's never been able to fully satisfy. This gives her a youthful vibrancy that many mistake for naivety or ignorance.

◊ Incredibly wary of strangers, Nora find it hard to approach or talk to any strangers, mostly for fear that they might find out her secret, but also for having her trust broken in the past. She's always a little guarded, terrified of letting anyone close.

◊ Past the vigilant wall, though, Nora's incredibly sweet with no mean bone in her body. She believes in a form of karmic retribution, cyclical energy and all that, where giving off positive energy is the only way to receive it in the end. She finds it easy to find the good in people and forgive the bad--though she will admit that some people do make it quite difficult.

◊ She's always found it much easier to connect with Pokemon, mainly because there is no language barrier.

◊ Born in the Tribe, it's hard for her to forgo old habits and superstitions. She still carries around an old Venasaur claw her grandmother gave her as a protective charm.

◊ Despite her outward, childish nature, Nora is markedly serious, which shows in high-stress scenarios. From a young age, she witnessed many injuries and illnesses of varying degrees, and the first thing her grandmother taught her was to never panic. It is fear the evil spirits feed on, clouding minds and misleading judgement.

◊ Much like a child, she adores stories. Whether they're real or made-up or ones she's heard before, she'll still sit down to listen. Though, be forewarned, she is prone to interrupting with questions.

◊ Though her English has improved, she's still easily flustered over idioms and metaphors and certain big words; and she still gets a little embarrassed over it, no matter how forgiving and trivial the mistake. Being so guarded has led to her being incredibly self-conscious.

◊ Please don't try witty wordplay with her.

◊ Nora's always been harsh on herself, riddled with insecurities despite the confidant facade she puts forward. Through her childhood, she was taught she must radiate strength with no sign of weakness, for as a Healer, she must be respected, almost worshiped. Showing emotions and growing too attached showed weakness; but now, it's done nothing but hinder her social life.

◊ She's started a secret collection of books that started from the first set that she never returned to the Chalaz City Public Library when she ran away.

◊ Violence has never been a part of her life, aside from hunting and protecting themselves from wild Pokemon. But even then, everything was honorable and nothing was wasted. Though the modern idea of battling horrifies her and she's accepted she will probably never understand it, she's at least glad she can help heal them and relay more information to making sure these trainers were caring for their Pokemon as best as they could.

◊ Modest and softspoken as she may seem, she is incredibly proud of what she knows and what she can do, as it's the only part of her Heritage that she can claim.

Yllmira of Bajrathoris, Nora's first name, was given to her by her grandmother, the healer of the family tribe. Deep in the Soclla tribe's forests, she and her family lived very traditional and xenophobic lives, trying to preserve the ancestral tradition and language. Many of the elders saw how the outsiders persuaded the youngsters to give up their traditions and family and thought it would be best to simply cut off all contact with them. Refusing to accept the English language and stubbornly keeping their own, rejecting all foreign technology and knowledge kept the family quite behind on the times, but that wasn't the only reason Yllmira's childhood was quite different than that of other children.

Of the tradition, being born a girl meant that she must have a strong earthly spirit, and having been blessed with hair as bright as starlight, her grandmother claimed her as her new apprentice and heir. As soon as she was weened, her grandmother plucked her from her mother's arms to raise the little girl in the medicine hut, where she was surrounded by leaves and flowers and fungi that she had never seen before. She took to it like a natural, her bright and eager attitude perfect for the role of an apprentice. She had no notion of life any other way.

But as she grew, so did the outside influence, and it became harder and harder to try and ignore the foreign intruders. And as it often happens when something is forbidden, Yllmira slowly found herself growing ever more curious about these strange people and their ways. During gathering outings, she would steal away to the tribes closer to the border and more accepting (relatively speaking) of the outsiders. Like a child again, she found a voracious desire to learn and know more and it wasn't long until she found someone willing to teach her this strange language in exchange to teach him hers. .

In the beginning, there was a lot of gesturing and charades, though after starting simple, they managed to get on. Her accent eventually grew subtler, though she still couldn't get rid of the lilting way she combined her y's and l's, and she eventually was able to converse in full sentences, albeit a little broken and slow.

At home, it grew harder and harder to hide her newfound interest. Her grandmother constantly chastised her for being gone for so long and never bringing enough back, while other members gave her curious looks when she asked questions about the foreigners. Quickly, she learned how heavy the stigma was, but it didn't nothing but to further her interest in the outside world.


It wasn't long before she learned about the assimilation program. She would have learned about it eventually, but her friend introduced her the day it was approved, before people could hear the dissenting side. It wasn't her fault, her naivety, in trusting a government official, she didn't even know what a government was. Still, he managed to convince her it would be her only chance to see the world he came from--her only chance to step foot outside of this godforsaken island. She didn't know of the strings attached.

Perhaps she had second thoughts, though it would only be for her family--would they be alright without her? But it was the daunting responsibility of becoming the Healer that convinced her to leave. Young and feeling as if she hadn't experienced enough of the world, the importance of the role she was to be raised as felt like a heavy burden. When she was a child, she hadn't fully understood what she would be giving up to becoming a Healer, nor how heavy an undertaking she had signed up for. She would have given any chance to walk away.

With nothing but a light bag with her belongings and her companion Petilil, Yllmira fled in the middle of the night to meet the man in the harbor where all the foreigners arrived from. He took her to an official looking building, where he handed her off to people who used words too big for her to recognize. That was the last time she ever saw him, and she couldn't even remember his name.

Her journey was a blur. Strangers in sharp uniforms who gave sharp commands passed her from room to room, where she was sometimes alone and sometimes with other tribesman--though never anyone she recognized. She didn't bother trying to make conversation. They gave her strange pieces of paper and gave her a new name--Mira. Easier on their clumsy tongues, it was the same nickname the man had given her, also unable to pronounce her full name. Mira Calhun. That's your name now, they told her. You're going to go live with the Calhuns. They screamed each word at her slowly, as if that would aid comprehension. She clutched the piece of paper that had her picture on it, with the new name printed right next to her, as if it was that easy.

On the ferry, she was able to forget her fear, for just a moment. It was still an adventure, this was still incredibly exciting, if not also terrifying. Perhaps it wouldn't be so awful. Yllmira--no, Mira now--refused to look back at the island for fear of crying and looking weak. She had to show them how strong she could be. Right?

The ride was short, but it was the landing process that took almost the entire day. After arriving, they were processed as they left the ferry, and then quarantined in a small room as they doled out the correct tribesman to their new family. Quietly clutching her Petilil, who was exponentially more frightened than she (and had been pretty against this whole running away idea in the first place), Mira waited her turn, almost missing her name when it was called. As she shouldered her way to the front, her anxiety rose, until she had her first inkling of regret.

The Calhuns seemed nice enough. A couple older than her parents, but looking younger, with a son who had left the house, were merely looking to fill the empty room in their house. As they ushered her into their car--something that took little coaxing, as Mira had heard of these metal beats that transported people from place to place--they distracted her with questions and stories and exclamations, as they were just as anxious as she was. Despite being fairly open minded, they were just glad that she wasn't as wild and dirty and savage looking as people warned them.

Të jetosh në një botë krejt të re.

Mira had it easy, and she learned that fairly quickly. Living in a large city like Chalaz meant that there were at least some people who didn't hate her for being an outsider, but she found people here was just as hateful of outsiders as her family had been. And the glamour of being in a new place was rather short-lived. The concrete buildings were looming and she found herself unable to breathe sometimes. She wasn't used to being around so many people at once. It was stifling and she found herself growing more homesick than she thought she would. The outside world wasn't as shiny as she thought it would be.

The few places she enjoyed was the park and the library. The park was the closest she could get to nature. With no real access outside the city, this was her own green sanctuary in this grey, concrete jungle. Sometimes, she would see plants she would recognize and she'd immediately try to recall its name and healing properties. For the plats she couldn't recognize, she'd try to remember every single detail and later look it up in the library. The library was the only quiet pocket in the entire city. Everyone whispered and the only sound in the air was the sound of pages turning, and sometimes, if she concentrated really hard, it sounded like the wind whispering through the canopy.

The Calhuns also found it hard to warm up to her as they had originally planned. She was a little aloof and sometimes it was hard to communicate with her. Her English wasn't bad--to the contrary, it was pretty good--but her vocabulary was limited and conversations were mostly them trying to explain something she didn't understand. Eventually, both sides gave up, though they remained cordial, if not a little strict. Mira thought it was strange, the way they watched her like a hawk, but perhaps that was the way parents were in the outside world.

Several months into her stay, the Calhuns' young son came back home to visit. If he was surprised to see her in his family house, he didn't show it--though he didn't really notice much of her at all. Mira was cast into the background as the family fawned over their baby, only concerned with his needs. After dinner, though, when things had calmed down, he finally acknowledged Mira, asking if she knew anything about Pokemon battling. Confused, Mira showed him her Petilil, her Pokemon, which he took as a challenge. Releasing his own Staravia, the impromptu battle took everyone by surprise. As soon as the bird charged, Mira took a split second decision to step in front of her Pokemon, completely bewildered by the sudden attack.

Clutching the Petilil, the both of them trembling, Mira looked at the boy in horror, though he merely scoffed at her. Despite the chastising he immediately received from his mother, Mira knew he hated her. She couldn't understand why, but she knew he did. For the next couple of days, she laid low, coming home only to eat dinner in her room and sleep until he left. Day by day she felt more and more like she didn't belong, and more and more convinced that coming here was the wrong decision. This idea of 'battling', a foreign concept to her, had piqued a morbid interest in her and so, as she always did, she sought her answers.

Everything she found horrified her. Forcing Pokemon to fight for sport seemed so ... barbaric. And they thought she was the savage one? Unable to handle it, she did the only thing she knew how to do: run. For the first time, she skipped curfew and attempted to steal away in the night again. But this time, it wasn't as easy. She barely got to the city limits before big men in dark uniforms pulled up in dark cars and drove her back home.

Still, she wasn't to be discouraged. Growing ever more suspicious of the Calhuns, she eventually found out their reason for taking her in. The first few family volunteers were given monetary compensation, but then required them to act more or less as a probation officer. Informing the officials of her whereabouts, her actions, and especially if she skipped curfew. She would have to be patient and creative.

Noting her unhappiness, the Calhuns tried their hardest to make up for their son's abhorrent behavior. They took her to the Contest Hall, to show her the other, more beautiful side to modern Pokemon trainers, which entranced her until it reached the battling portion. Why did everything have to be so violent here? They tried to distract her by taking her on a road trip, through some of the forests and smaller villages. That had been pleasant, if not painfully nostalgic. It took everything she could to not just leave and run into the strange forest and disappear into the trees.

Her desire peaked when they reached Richitev City. It was the same tangy smell of the sea and the sound of the boats that sparked her idea. As they wandered the harbor streets, she excused herself to go find a restroom, turned a corner and booked it to the harbor. The ferry was just packing up and the man accepting passengers was too hurried to look at her identification completely. An ID and money for the ticket, just barely enough from the allowance given to her by her foster parents, was all the man wanted before waving her on, hurrying after her as the ferry's engine had started. Gripping the rails, Mira watched the harbor shrink until she was sure that this was really happening.

With a sense of determination, she took out all of her identification papers, the ones she had on her, anyway, and tossed them into the ocean. She was never looking back.

Unë vetëm dua të vijnë në shtëpi tani.

She didn't know what she was expecting. At the very least, she wasn't expecting her entire family to look at her as if she was a stranger. But there they stood, silently gaping at her, and Mira--Yllmira?--suddenly felt incredibly out of place in her strange, modern clothes. Her grandmother broke the silence, clambering out of her hut with her hollow wood beads clacking to announce her entrance.

"Gjyshe", she started, the familiar word feeling foreign on her tongue, but she was cut off.

"Çfarë po bën këtu, i huaj?", her grandmother spat, calling her a stranger. When she didn't say anything, not having expected this level of anger and rage and hurt, her grandmother, who had fed her and rocked her to sleep and nursed her back to health and laughed together, waved her away violently.

We have no need for outsiders here--leave! no need for girls who leave their family behind, keep them worrying sick! I have no granddaughter, she died years ago. You strange girl, leave! Before you anger the spirits!

She didn't know where to go, but she went. Still unable to let herself cry, she went back to the border, where some tribes had erected huts and tents for the growing number of visitors. When she grew hungry, she asked a tribesmember for food in the native tongue, and they looked at her as if she had sprouted horns. That was when she realized how much she looked like an outsider, and how strange it must seem for an outsider to be so fluent in the mother tongue. Without even receiving her food, she turned and left.

Now, with nowhere to go and no real name to herself, she found herself increasingly desperate to belong. She couldn't possibly return to Cyal--they must be on the hunt for her and who knew what would happen to her if she went back, as violent as they were? But it wasn't as if there was a home for her on the island either. Yet, she couldn't leave the Soclla territory, partially because the forest was still where she felt most comfortable. Feeling lost, she wandered the border, not entirely sure what she was going to do anymore. Thankfully, her comfort and knowledge of the forest didn't leave her in the last couple of years and she found herself feeling a little more confident. All the fauna was familiar, and she recited their names as she walked by, gathering up the edible ones. She had forgotten how good freshly-picked, raw foods could be.


It was the smell of flowers that drew her in first. Then the buzzing of the Combees and at how excited her little Petilil got. The trees thinned out to create a small clearing, though it was brimming with flowers of all sorts of sizes and colors. The little building looked perfectly at peace, nestled in amongst the flowers. She was sure that she didn't remember it here last, though. It must be new, and yet, it looked as if it was meant to be here.

Curious--and really, it wasn't as if she had anything else to do--Yllmira walked up to the door and walked in, only to be greeted by a friendly smile. "Hi there! Welcome to Honey Breeze! How can we help?"

"Hi, I'm ... Nora, and I was wondering if there was any work available?"



**using albaian as their native language, because i think it sounds pretty and it's ancient and it's super cool

When Nora was six and still went by Yllmira, her grandmother woke her up on a full moon night and stole her away through the forest, so fast she couldn't keep up in her sleepy state. They eventually arrived at a hollow, where behind a curtain of lichen was a small clearing covered with flowers. Under the moonlight and surrounded by flowers' aroma, Nora received her first tattoo and her Petilil, the Healer's Pokemon.


Her grandmother's own Lilligant handed the little sprout, then no bigger than two of her fists, to her and she watched in awe as the leaves unfolded and the little Pokemon opened her eyes for the first time, only to see Nora's own glimmering at her.

The two were inseparable after that, with Filiz having imprinted her, but soon maturing faster than Nora, who was never quite able to grow out of her childhood. The Petilil's only dream was for the two to finish their training so that they could receive the final ceremony, where Nora would receive her final markings and the two of them would take the journey to the diell rock and she would finally get to bloom as a Lilligant.


Though now it's a rather impossible dream, and Filiz would never hate Nora for having made her decisions, she often daydreams of what could have been.

//

Filiz (Fi or just Fili for short) knows little to no attack/damage moves, as they've had no need to battle ever. Maybe Mega Drain/Leech Seed, but she's just a useless little healer sprout. <3