𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽

Okay, I’ve gone rogue. I’ve taken on a second character--and I cannot wait to set her loose on ya’ll. 

Meet 𝓐𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓪. She’s the complete opposite of Bandit in every way, my sunshine girl to my grumpy raincloud of a Neverboy, my sweet daughter to my problematic little meow meow. 

She's the happiest hellspawn you’ll ever meet. Think Glinda the “Good” Witch--but still a witch nonetheless. Just because she tries to hide her teeth when she smiles doesn't mean they aren't there; she just fights the urge to use them. With her naturally sharp claws and sharper smile, she's spent well over a century on this island taking life from the innocent to sustain herself. It’s in her nature. She certainly hasn't been able to survive this long off of fish alone (much to her dismay)--but no more! This time, it’s going to be different. She swears it. This moon cycle will be the last time she feeds on humans! Really!! But it’s ... hard to stay determined and focused on that goal when she’s just .... so.... tired....

Some thoughts to get those ideas flowing:

1) Ever dream of owning a dress-up doll as a kid but your parents could never afford one? Meet your new Makeover Mermaid! Alana loves to accessorize (especially anything that goes with her dazzling ruby tail) and is always sporting a new look. A necklace made out of sea flowers? For sure. A crown made out of seaweed? Bet.

2) Enjoy a good story but start losing focus halfway through? That's no problem! Alana will start four stories in a span of five minutes, get distracted, and not finish any of them. :~)

3) Looking to get rid of your old junk? Bring it to Alana! She "collects" pretty much anything--like a crow but with less taste. Her cove is filled with random bits and bobbins she's found around the island. No she does NOT have a hoarding problem

4) Alana is thirsty--FOR LEGS. Specifically, having human legs of her own so she can see the world. There's so much out there that she can't access right now, being confined to the waters. She would miss her stunning tail, of course, but that's a sacrifice she is willing to make in exchange for so much more. It's been said that true love can morph one's tail to a pair of human legs, and by golly she's going to hold onto that myth until it comes true, dammit.

I know there have been Alanas in the past, and I will not step on previous iterations of the character. For those of you who had threads/plots with her previous writer, feel free to DM me. Maybe we can incorporate something similar moving forward so all your hard work isn’t lost. Ya'll know I’m always happy to chat. 

Nin was too new to know, but Alana had experienced satiety. It had been all too easy, back then. A short song and a sweet smile was all it took to enthrall anyone unlucky enough to cross her path. But she was better than that now.

However, Nin wasn't too new to not consider snitching on her to Ianthe. Clearly Alana needed to cover her tracks better. Time for damage control.

"Why, I'm... on a diet!" she blurted out. It took everything she had not to slap her own forehead with her palm at her poor improvisational skills. "Yes, I'm trying to watch my figure. I've ... overindulged in the past." Well it wasn't a total lie, albeit for different reasons. Inspiration struck her, and she tried to sell the idea with a disdainful look up and down the other mermaid's torso, scrunching up her nose for good measure. "Perhaps you should do the same?"

FLASHBACK TIME !

3 years earlier...

Once every 28 suns, the moon would become a beautiful, white sphere in the sky, looming over the island in its full glory. To some, it meant nothing more than the passage of time, but to those who knew better, it was an omen.

The Wendy-Bird, with her honeyed locks and warm smile, was the former.

***

The light of the full moon bounced off the waves of the lagoon, dragging jagged white lines across their tips like a chain-link fence.

A gnawing hunger rumbled through Alana's body. She cradled her stomach, breathing deeply as she tried to ignore the hollow ache of emptiness from within. It was like his every time. She would feel it coming days before the moon reached its zenith. It would start small, a headache here and there, slight trouble focusing on her current craft projects. Then, it would progress. She would become lethargic, her limbs and tail growing heavier by the day--until finally, the full moon rose high in the sky and loomed over Neverland, and she was powerless but to succumb to its whims like the ocean tide.

Speaking of....

The redhead lifted her heavy head from where she lay on the large red rock, perking up at a particularly delicious scent. Sweet and warm and decadent. She allowed herself a long, deep inhale, her mouth salivating at the mere essence. The sudden cacophony of haunting, lilting wails confirmed it: they had a GUEST.

She turned her head away, only for her gaze to drift back to the delightful fragrance. It appeared to be a young girl, long hair cascading down her back in gentle waves. Was that...?

Soft, supple skin concealed a heartbeat that pounded deliciously in her ears, drowning out the cries of the other merfolk. It didn't matter who she was. Her vision narrowed, a vignette around the edges of her form as the clawed hand of another yanked the girl deep into the waters.

She snapped. Everything else faded away as the starving monster in her took over.

When she regained hold of her consciousness a moment later, the girl's face was mere inches from hers. A look of pure terror written on the girl's face: bulging, unblinking blue eyes stared back at her in horror, lips trembling at the sight of her.

It was Wendy. Peter's Wendy.

With wide eyes, she realized her claw was wrapped tightly around the girl's frail wrist, nails digging into her flesh. She let out a gasp and dropped it like it burned her, yanking her hand back to her side like a parent would a misbehaving child.

And she'd been SO close to not giving in this time, too..

A quick scan of the girl's face told her she was frightened, but not fatally injured. That was a close one. That could have been bad--but thankfully, it wasn't.

With a resolved sigh, she turned away and began to swim away,

Behind her, Peter's voice bellowed in the distance. It seems the girl had been saved. For now.

Alana's belly growled in protest. She needed to feed. Maybe she could find a wicked sailor somewhere to feast on and try again with her fast next month. At least then it would be someone a little more deserving of such a cruel fate.

As she made her way toward Skull Rock with her head hung low, she thought: Sorry, little Wendy Bird.

They were yards away from one another, and yet Alana felt as though he had punched her in the stomach. Her jaw went slack.

"Marlowe!" she admonished. "Why, that is simply just not true! Everyone is capable of love."

Her brows furrowed together. How could even consider that to be remotely accurate? And to state it with such certainty, in fact! There had to be a way for her to change his mind, or at least plant the seed of plausibility.

"Do you not feel the joy when everything clicks into place? The satisfaction after a good meal?" She tried not to wince at what the merman's idea of a 'good meal' surely was. How savage to think she used to partake in that custom so regularly. "There must be something you love," she said, tapping her lips with her pointer finger. "What about..." What about what? Murder? Killing defenseless beings for sport? "--Ianthe?"