Welcome to Gaia! ::

Alaina keeps the decorated pot in her messenger bag, slung across her shoulderr, but all the while her hand remains on it. She's afraid it'll move, or someone will steal it, or it'll disappear and this whole ordeal would just prove a disorderly mental state. She walks the sidewalk in long strides, her fancy boots letting her feel every one of them. Her hair is done up in a fauxhawk and her eye makeup is heavy.

"You're going to get me killed out here," she murmurs into her collar, tapping her fingers on the pot's rim. "But I need to get groceries sometime.."