Claves sat on the roof, ears lax and eyes pointed upwards to the slowly brightening sky. In her left hand she clutched her handmade white gold flute as thoughts of her father raged through her head. Tears welled and dripped down her cheeks matting her white-pinkish fur, and she figured now was a good time as any to start playing, so she put the flute to her mouth and blew a single note, until she moved her fingers, and it turned into many notes of a melancholy tone. After awhile, the tone switched to a neutral and then happy one as her spirits rose, if only for a little while. Some of the smaller birds came over and joined in with her morning song with her Chocobo, Myrn kwehing along as well. The small town of Lysterna woke to the beautiful melody of the Moogle flutist and her avian friends once again.
As the town people came out of their homes and walked past the roof she was on, they waved with a smile on their faces, and she nodded politely back, never stopping her song- it kept her yelling father asleep awhile longer. One hour after dawn had passed a male Burmecian turned the cobble stone corner just as she played the last note. Claves put the flute down and sighed before she grinned and looked at him. The mouse man waved and as he came closer opened his arms wide. The moogle just blinked and flapped her purple wings, floating in mid air for a few minutes until she flew down to his height, past her outstretched arms, stopping her bat like appendages as she landed. Every morning, she sat on the roof, playing her song to wake up the neighbor hood, and at the same time every morning, he'd come around that corner, thinking that she would need his help on getting down, and she'd refuse, flying down herself. "One of these days," he swore years ago, "you are going to plop down into my arms." And years ago, she silently laughed and shook her head no.
Claves glanced up at him, only able to see his long nose, before he glanced down at her. She smiled again, and he picked all 2ft 9in of her up and onto his back, as he crawled into the house before them, the door way only being 5ft high. He set her down and went over to his corner to start working on his gun. The white moogle, in a good mood, skipped over to the kitchen area and began making breakfast. A few minutes later, a rotund moogle with goggles on top of his head waddled (yes waddled) into the room, hand rubbing his forehead to wake himself up further. The hand slid down over his eyes as he asked, "Mascka, are you there?"
The Burmecian replied, "I am. Claves is making breakfast." At the mention of his daughter's name the elder scowled. Mascka looked up from his small seat and said as he noticed the scowl, "You know you shouldn't be too hard on her. She makes decent money, and is doing her best to make you proud."
The scowl deepened into a snarl before his face completely relaxed. "Don't tell me how to mange my own child," he said coldly. The mouse anthro glared, but resumed his gaze to his weapon. The fat moogle sighed deeply. "Why can't she be more like you... interested in weapons..."
"Claves /is/ a girl. I'm not surprised that she isn't into death and destruction and that she has taken an interest in things most girls her age have."
"She's a /moogle/ - an inventor!"
"She did /invent/ the music box," was the calm reply. "Stop trying to make her into someone she isn't, Waxzit, and let her be who she is."
Waxzit ignored him and stomped over to his own work place and began mapping out ideas for his next invention. Claves quietly came from the kitchen and set a plate of roasted kupo nuts by her father's desk, and then placed a bowl of fruit by Mascka (startling her when he flashed her a smile), and went upstairs to slip out of her night gown. She didn't come back down until 3 hours later.
When Claves did sneak down in her silver blue shirt and pants with a black cloak over top, her father was out and Mascka hadn't left his spot. Her bare feet let her collect the bowl and plate she'd left earlier and take them back into the kitchen without making a sound, or so she thought. When she came back to retreat upstairs, Mascka was turned around in his chair facing her. They stared at each other, sea green eyes into wide purple ones, for a while, until he spoke. "He doesn't beat you does he?" Claves shook her head, slowly, wondering what this was all about. The sea green eyed male sighed with relief, before walking up to her. He let his claw like hand rest on her head and rubbed around, touching her long rabbit ears. When he was done, the Moogle glanced up at the black furred mouse in confusion. He just smiled, shook his head, and his dark red hair, and went back to his work. Curious, Claves hovered around, completely overlooking her father when he came home. Waxzit just stared at her apparent interest in guns, and went past the stair well to his room to begin constructing.
When dusk came, the female left her friend's work space and began making a small dinner for the three of them. When it was ready, they sat on the workshop floor in a small circle. After a few minutes of eating, Mascka spoke up. "I'm not sure if you two heard, but Utalri was attacked a few days ago." The two Moogles glanced up from their meal. "And Burmecia not long after."
It was silent for a moment, until Waxzit said, "Are you going back to your home town?" And Claves feared the answer was a yes. She didn't want to be left alone with no friend other than Myrn, and she didn't want her Burmecian friend to die in a possible war.
"No," was Mascka's answer. "Because I've lived here in Dalmasca for so long, I'm not a Burmecian citizen." The two Moogles relaxed slightly.
"Then why bring this up?" Waxzit asked.
"The king has ordered all engineers and Moogles to begin making some weapons. And all warriors to report to him in 4 days." Both his and Waxzit's eyes turned grave while Claves was just wondering what was going on. If they were ordered to make weapons, wouldn't that just mean the king would pay them a good sum for the service?
"There's an extra room upstairs if you'd like to stay here for a while." The anthro mouse smiled grimly in thanks, and the three returned to their lukewarm meal. When it was done, and Claves cleaned up dishes, Waxzit spoke once more. "Claves can show you the room." And then he disappeared into his workroom again.
The female blinked, grabbed her friend's hand, and led up him the stairs to the door on the far right. She opened the door and led him through, careful not to be so eager. The black Burmecian smiled at her obvious haste and nearly beamed at the room. Initially, he thought everything was going to be too small, but it was clear his two friends thought of his height when they planned to have him over at some point. The bed was long enough for him to comfortably lay down in, and the ceiling, was mostly high enough so he didn't have to bend his head except in a couple of places. He knelt down and hugged his mute friend before she left the room, and the trio settled down for the night.
It had been a few days since Mascka came over to stay. Since then, Claves was denied access to the roof to play every morning and instead, she when out to the backyard to talk and sing with Myrn. The shop was open, and Mascka brought all the guns he'd been making to be sent to the military. He and her father were always working on a weapon of some sort, and she wasn't even aloud into the house during the open hours. Mascka wanted to put up an argument, but Waxzit wouldn't hear of it. At night, the few hour she had before bed, were spent packing up things she would need, as per the Burmecian's request. She only packed a few clothes, her favorite music box, and a few flutes.
One day business was slow. So slow in fact, that before midday no one was coming in. Claves was allowed back in, and so she began making a lunch of salad sanwiches. Once everyone had eaten, she began on fixing a broken music box. Out of the corner of his eye, Waxzit saw her, and quietly growled, but continued his work. Mascka glanced over at the fat moogle, and then back to the custom sword he was making. All three looked up when two moogles, one a red mage, flew in.
The taller moogle was dressed in mostly black attire, his pristine white fur standing out greatly. The red pom pom attached to his head went through the black hate he was wearing. His eyes were black as well, and they glistened slightly as he gazed at the female.
The red mage moogle was dressed in red robes and no hat, it was hard to tell whether it was a male or female. Its pom pom was more orangy, and eyes were a bright blue- a start constrast to its yellow-tan fur. It too was looking at Claves, and she didn't like them at all.
With out a word, the female moogle walked out to Myrn telling the chocobo of her plight while her father was left to deal with the new guests, and Mascka listening in.
A bit later, after they left, Mascka came out, to see the young moogle curled up by her chocobo's side. Smiling softly, he gently picked her up and carried her to his bedroom and laid her down on his bed for the night. With a soft sigh, he crept back down stairs and glared at Waxzit's back. "You gave your daughter away to a /mage/?" he demanded.
Waxzit didn't even pause in what he was doing. "It was the best idea at the time."
"At the time? By the eight, she's not even 13 years old! And he's turning 20 in a month!" he yelled harshly, reminding to keep his voice down, if only slightly.
"Her mother would have wanted it," the older moogle said tiredly.
"No, she wouldn't. Her mother would have wanted her to be happy. I can tell you this- she is /not/ happy! Hell, she can't even speak, because /you/ refuse to teach her! What is wrong with you-"
"There is nothing wrong with me!"
"Oh no? Well clearly /something/ must be!" Mascka rubbed his temples. "I understand you're still grieving from Aladi's passing, but that is no excuse for abusing your daughter," he said coldly.
"How dare you say I'm abusing her!"
The mouse gave a pointed look. "She can't speak, she can't read, rarely smiles, and you don't think you're abusing her?! The /neighbors/ are talking! I've been quiet for 5 years- /over/ 5 years- and I think she's suffered enough." The other male remained silent. "Before Dalmasca is attacked, Claves and I are leaving."
Unknowingly, Claves slipped out of the Burmecian's room and was now hiding behind the door listening in on the conversation. She heard her father say, "Take her then. What good is she to me?"
"...What is it about her, that makes you detest her so? She doesn't look anything like her mother, if anything she looks like her grandmother. For her age, she's smart, responsible, and reguardless of what you say, she /is/ a genius. So she doesn't make things you would think are "productive", you should have expected this from a girl-"
"I never wanted a girl!" That outburst stunned both of them. "I've always wanted a boy. Always. Boys are blessings in families. They take on the business, work with their father, things that I dreamed of, gone with Aladi."
"You could have had those things," Mascka said slowly, "if you had worked with your daughter." With that, he left the moogle down stairs to think things over and to check up on Claves. He found her face down in a pillow silently sobbing her heart out. After shutting the door behind him, he padded up to his bed, and rubbed circles around her back to soothe the child. "Ignore him, he doesn't know what he's missing out on. So you aren't a boy, so what? Being male has more responsiblities than you think." At his touch she did calm down, but when she looked up at him, tears were still streaming down her furry cheeks. "You know, I had planned on taking you with me tomorrow," he started wistfully, "to see more chocobos like Myrn, meet some of my friends, and maybe even travel to Burmencia to see my family." Her face brightened. "But... if you're feeling sick, I guess its going to have to wait a couple of days." The moogle shook her head furiously and wiped away at her tears.
"Kupo!" she said softly. "Kupo, kupo!"
He chuckled. "I guess I'm going to have to teach you some word too?"
"Kupo!" He sighed softly, smiles on both their faces, and they hugged eachother. And that's exactly how they fell asleep.
When Mascka woke up that morning, he couldn't help but feel something was wrong. It wasn't that he was late in getting up and it wasn't the fact that the moogle less than half his size was still in his arms (that if something wasn't off, he would be smiling faintly). Myrn's loud wark of alarm, and Waxzit's shout came to his ears first, before something loud deafened him. A bomb? He didn't know and didn't care. Tail twitching every which way, he suddenly rocketed to his feet, waking the moogle in his arms. He set her down by the foot of the bed before going to his back. "Go get your bag, Claves, its time to go." Sleepily she went to her room, rubbing her eyes as she went, completely ignoring the frantic tone in his voice. The Burmecian didn't even change out of the previous day's clothing so anxious was he. With the sack snug on his arm, he ran down the stairs, hitting his head on the doorway. "Waxzit! We need to go, /now/!" The other moogle, lance in hand took down an enemy human, and guarded himself against the second.
"You need to take Claves, and get to Rabanastre. It should be safer there with all the guards."
"You're going to stand here and fight?!"
"This is my home that I'm protecting. I made that promise to the king years ago, even if I stepped down as a Moogle Knight," the fat moogle responded, before shoving the lance into the armored enemy.
Claves, jumped down the stairs two by two, back pack on her back in such a way that she could still fly if she wished. Her purple eyes glanced up to see her father fighting, and it was all it took for her to shatter her happy place. "Kupo!"
Mascka turned and gathered her up into his arms, just in time for the Humes to break down the wall infront of them. All he heard afterwards was a "go!" from Waxzit, and before either blinked they were out the back door and into the yard climbing onto an already saddled Myrn. Once boarded, the mouse cracked the reigns and shouted, "To Rabanastre!" and the white bird jumped over many heads, to their right, and down the street, avoiding many citizens, guards, and weapons as it went.