Affinity

[kixinorbit]

[fieldbox="Wren Donaghue, #B69F6A, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]Location: Mirefield > The Nerissa
Mood: Interested, Inspired
Status: Roughed Up
Mentions: @Lillian Gray, @Spectre of the Fade, @mingummy, @Mundane Monster, @BlueFlameNikku, @Kimberlyn , @Bjorn, @espoir

---

Listening with interest as the others present confirmed their interest, Wren stared around the room once more. Some of the people seemed in a hurry, and the stern-looking woman was already hurrying another of their number away. He was more interested, however, in Matthias telling them about meals, beds, and showers. Those were three things Wren hadn't consistently had in quite some time. He didn't care if it was one shower he had to share with the entire crew at once—he was just pleased to have something other than cold rivers and stagnant lakes. Of course, the mention of payment was also welcomed, but that was secondary to eating, sleeping, and bathing.

Talk of this secretive auction also had Wren curious, but it seemed that they were to receive information on that tomorrow. For now, the lot of them had been invited out onto the deck.

What had Matthias meant by "what you're all capable of?" Did he want to see their skills as crew? As fighters and marksmen? Wren knew next to nothing about flying an airship, and he found himself hoping it was the latter. He couldn't help but feel there had been a time that he'd worked on an airship—he adored flying, but he couldn't recall details for the life of him. Hopefully, Matthias and Lee wouldn't mind re-teaching those skills.

After another moment of spectating, waiting to see if people would follow Matthias outside, Wren slid off of his chair. He still gripped the rifle tightly against his chest, but he worked his thin features into a smile. He now knew Matthias, Lee, Wylan, the woman called Esy, and the airman who called himself Roger. The airman in question had been pulled away by Esy, but the three other women remained. The smallest girl, who still seemed as excited and pleasant as ever, was nearby, and Wren turned to face her.

"Hello," he said vaguely. "Nice ship, isn't it? Pretty woodwork." Recalling the handshake he'd exchanged with Matthias, Wren offered the young woman a bruised hand. There was something else he was supposed to do, but it had again slipped his mind. Instead, he said, "don't you think the sky sirens will be envious? But I don't think they will give us trouble, either way." He paused, blinked, and glanced over his shoulder at the door Matthias had vanished through. "I am going to go to the deck. I think he would like us to fight." His statement was phrased as more of a question, but he turned away from the petite woman and wandered idly toward the door.

On the way, he gave a small smile to the red-head and the bored-seeming girl. He should learn their names, but perhaps that would come later.


[/fieldbox]

 

[BlueFlameNikku]

Roger Roads
Location: War Room ----> Esther's Room -----> The Ship
Interactions: @espoir
Mentions: N/A

Roger's charismatic smile was quickly changed into an expression of acute pain as Esther dug her heel into the toe of Roger's boot. His eyes comically widened as he kept his mouth shut with both of his hands to keep from yelping in response to the sudden surprise. "What in the five was that for Es-" He was quickly cut short from continuing as his childhood friend grabbed his shoulder and practically dragged him out of the war room and to presumed to be his friend's room again. He had hardly been able to really look into the other people he'd been working with but figured there would be time for that later.

Roger leaned against one of the walls close to the bunk bed as he watched Esther look the room like before and seemed to get comfortable though her body and language and choice of words would show otherwise. He calmly listened and let her speak without him interrupting her until she seemed to pause do to frustration. He sighed lightly and shut his eyes in grief before opening them to gaze upon the red head once again. "I did what I did so I could follow my dream Esy. I told you no ship would take me in; signing up with those bastards was far from the top of my list of choices. I know what they have done and what they will continue to do which is why I never planned on staying." His explanation was simple much as to the way Roger preferred most things.

Roger went quiet as she mentioned Matti basically become her brother. He silently pondered what she was getting at with that; sighing again as his face saddened ever so slightly at some of the thoughts. He spoke in a tone that he didn't use often. It was almost low and fairly serious considering what kind of person Roger Roads was. "You'll always be my little sister Esther...even if you don't see me in a similar light anymore..." With that he got up from the wall and quickly made his way to the door with a quick but oddly soulless pace; unlocking it and closing the door behind him without another word. Maybe she was right, maybe they had become too different now and Esther could never see Roger as who he was all those years ago because of the path he took to stop living in the gutter. She seemed so frustrated with his being there now. He felt a heavy dull pain in his chest and tightened his fists for a moment before loosening himself. His face was more stoic now like a soldier's as he briskly walked away from the room to meet up with everyone else to see how things were going.

 

[Mundane Monster]

BEE

Location: Skyport Overlook

Mentions: @Lillian Gray Interactions: @DinoFeather

Hoo boy! Okay! Now was Bee's time to shine! Major Clark wanted to see their capabilities? Bee could do that! She could throw some rocks around, or make a rock sculpture. She could even demonstrate the proper position to start mining with. Or she could bake a souffle for the crew, or--

Her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of the man she couldn't remember the name of--the sad stray cat guy. "Hi! And yup, it's an awesome ship--way bigger than I've ever been on." she chirped, gingerly taking his hand. It looked injured--and she didn't want to squeeze it too hard and hurt him. By the way that he had approached her, her earlier assumption was correct in him being new. She expected him to give her his name after they exchanged greetings, but instead he started talking about...Sky sirens? What in the heck was a sky siren? Did he mean a siren siren or a monster siren? And why was he talking about sirens anyway? And why would they be jealous of an airship? Aw man, there was so much she needed to learn about her new job. Maybe this guy could help her since he apparently knew quite a bit. She was just about to ask him when he mentioned the bit about fighting and turned away. Bee's jaw dropped and she once again began rethinking her spot on this ship.

"FIGHT?!" Bee yelped. That's what Major Clark had meant by 'capable of'? She'd just told him what she was capable of and fighting was not included! What the heck was she supposed to do in a fight? She'd only fought someone once before and it had been someone her own size! All these other people were bigger and scarier looking then her! Plus they didn't just have earth affinities like her and she'd never encountered someone with another type of affinity! What if she got roasted? Or drowned or-or whatever a Bio affinity did?!

What was she going to do? She couldn't opt out and she didn't want to run away...Running her hands through her hair and letting out a frustrated groan, Bee fixed her face in what she hoped was an intimidating scowl, and exited the room after the stray cat guy. She would just have to do her best and hope her opponent wouldn't beat her up too bad.

Though she would still love to not get beat up at all.

 

[Spectre of the Fade]

COLLAB POST
Collab with @Lillian Gray
Location: Deck ❖ Tagged: @BlueFlameNikku @Mundane Monster @Bjorn @espoir @Lillian Gray @Kimberlyn @mingummy @DinoFeather

A soft breath of pride escaped Lee's mouth while he looked around the war room, but he didn't quite let the smile that would have appeared with it onto his face. No matter how many times he'd started this cycle at Matti's side, it always felt so pleasant at the beginning. New faces, new hope, some new lead to go off of. This time was different for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something about the lead, something about how Matthias was acting, perhaps even something about the faces he looked over. It felt more like the start of something than any attempt before it had. Something real.

He entertained himself with thoughts of why that was while the prospective crew members affirmed their support. Their newly acquired songbird without a name. Roger Roads. Isabella Levitskaya. Bel - Bee, she'd said. Bee. More names, more faces, he would learn and remember. Hopefully without much trouble. Judging by the smile Matthias flashed his way, his Major was feeling as hopeful as Lee was and something relaxed in Lee's chest. If Matthias was content with the crew they'd assembled, then Lee was content with the crew they'd assembled. Then Matthias finished his spiel and people started leaving. Lee looked over those who had yet to speak with an inquisitive expression and concluded they could speak up out on deck or escort themselves off the ship, so he followed the rest outside after a minute.

There….There he decided something. Maybe it was his unusually good mood, maybe it was the cold air of the altitude they were at, maybe it was something else, but he didn't wait for Matthias to organize any sort of sparring before he unbuckled the belt that held his pistol and set on a conveniently placed barrel nearby. His big leather duster, heavier than any ordinary duster given its modifications and reinforcements, came off and went on the barrel as well. Folded, of course. He slid the straps of his suspenders off his shoulders, too, letting them hang loose at his waist. Then and only then did he take out his marking pen.

"Hey, Major," Lee murmured as he walked out further onto the deck, away from those exiting the war room - wouldn't do to hit them or anything - and drew the rune for "power" onto the backs of his hands with precise strokes. That one was safe enough on skin, as it only enhanced strength or durability. It was the elemental runes, like fire, ice, earth, etc, that hurt to apply to bare flesh. Had to have gloves or something for those. "Feel like sparring?" he asked as he finished the last stroke of the rune on his right hand, looking over at Matthias with a rare grin. The runes shifted from plain black ink to a silvery glow as Lee activated them, hard to see in the daylight.

Matthias couldn't help but widen his smile seeing Kingsley's, uncommon as it was. Who was he to refuse his Captain? He hadn't seen Kingsley marking his hands with the runes, nevertheless, he nodded in reply, oblivious to the pommeling coming his way. "Absolutely. Just don't hit too hard, you're better at this than I am. Don't tell this kids that though. They'll start to wonder how I made it this far."

The Major paused. Before walking any further onto the deck he stripped himself of the brown leather jacket he wore and peeled off the gray sweater. Matthias discarded the pieces on the deck of the ship, lacking the neatness that compelled Kingsley to fold his own duster. He wouldn't be needing either of those fow what he was doing, it would only get in the way. Matthias was left in a wrinkled green button up and his black pants, geared up and as ready as he would be to spar. Bio versus Earth, not always the fairest of fights.

Lee grinned even wider, pausing mid-stride before he walked back over to the hatch that lead to the lower decks. "Wouldn't dare tell them, sir," he replied, the last word said with a noticeably light tone. Then he crouched down beside the hatch, looking over the metal reinforcements on the old section of wood. Hell, he was planning on replacing it anyways. Fingers dug into the wood around a couple of particularly promising bits of metal and Lee pulled at it. Wood cracked, Lee growled, and the metal lifted out of the wood it'd been anchored to, all its bolts with it. Lee was left with two long strips of steel and a broken hatch; he made a mental note to fix that before dinner. Popping out the bolts was easy enough, then he walked over to Matthias once again with the strips of metal oh so carefully wrapped around both of his knuckles.

"Wouldn't do to break my knuckles, either," he explained with a shrug, hands up while he looked at his friend. His grin was back, more confident this time. Sparring with Matthias was always fun.

"The hatch? Really?" Matthias had begun to raise his fists in a defensive position, only to lower them with a mock pout on his face. It was more of a courtesy that Kingsley gave Matthias the first throw. The two had been sparring for the last decade, but Kingsley had far more experience. Especially in boxing. He brought his hands back up and crouched slightly. Of all the runes he could have tattooed on his hands, not a one was useful for sparring. But, from the years of practice, he had learned enough to be considered skilled in hand to hand combat. Matthias let out a quick exhale before reaching forward to tap his knuckles against Kingsley's.

It was on.

Matthias darted to the left in an attempt to get behind Kingsley. If he could just land a blow with the back of his hand, he could hit the right pressure point and render at least one limb useless.

"I'll fix the hatch!" Lee declared, twisting fast on his feet so he was facing Matthias again, hands raised in a defensive position. "Think you're going to get me that fast?" He threw a couple of fast jabs, but seeing as he was two hundred pounds and change, fast wasn't exactly his specialty.

Too slow. Kingsley threw his fist forward and Matthias rolled around it in time to land a heavy smack against the back of his shoulder. All at once, a handful of tattooed runes illuminated on Matthias' hand, until Kingsley's left arm went completely slack. Matthias couldn't enhance his jabs or punch with fire or ice, but he knew the body and he knew it well. His hit wasn't powerful, but it relaxed the muscles and forced the limb to fall.

"Just did. Come on, you're faster than that. Quit playing around." Matthias taunted.

Lee bared his teeth in response, laughing as he did. The fingers on his left hand gave a valiant twitch when he tried to move them, but the arm was dead. Useless for a few minutes at the least. This would be an interesting fight. Then again, they always were. "Yes, sir. Can do, sir," Lee taunted back, then threw another punch and the pair were back to sparring.

They exchanged blows for a bit. Lee had the advantage on strength, even with one arm...when he could actually catch the much faster Matthias. It was clear, though, by the way they moved and the comments they traded that the two had sparred with one another for a long time. Lee was the one to end it, with a solid - but not hard, not with the power rune on his hand and the steel wrapped around his fingers - punch to the chest that knocked Matthias off his feet. Letting out a soft pant but otherwise looking unaffected by the workout, Lee offered a hand to help his friend back to his feet.

As per the usual, Matthias ended up on his ass. Recently, he had been getting better, but Kingsley had the clear advantage with his steel wrapped knuckles and power runes on his hands. All things considered, he was surprised it didn't take less time to put him flat on the deck. Matthias took his friend's hand and jumped back onto his feet. He threw his head back with his hands on his hips in an attempt to catch his breath.

"Fuck, Kingsley," Was all Matthias was able to get out. He chuckled and turned back to address his ragtag crew. They had started the sparring, that didn't mean he couldn't watch the others fight now. Maybe he'd be up for another round once he could breathe again.

"I keep saying you need to work on your stamina," Lee murmured, quiet enough that only Matti would be able to hear him, and gently bumped Matti's shoulder with his own. The smile on his face was still present, and Lee was in far too good of a mood to force it off. Sure, Lee was feeling the energy he'd lost chasing Matthias around, but he did too much cardio to let it get to him. Besides, he was in a good mood. "Any of you like to try?" he added, addressing the crew with a louder voice and raised eyebrows. He approached the lot as he continued, gesturing with the hand that wasn't still dead at his side. "Partner up, if you like. I wouldn't mind testing your skills, either."

 

[kixinorbit]

[fieldbox="Wren Donaghue and Roger Roads, #B69F6A, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"] Location: The Nerissa > Main Deck

---

At the girl's seemingly startled reaction to mention of a fight, Wren paused at the door. Was it that unusual that the Commander wished to see them fight? He was so accustomed to being forced to fight that it was nothing less than natural for him—if that was, indeed, what the man had requested. For all Wren knew, they did want to see their skills as ship crew.

Shrugging his thin shoulders, Wren slipped through the door and wandered slowly toward the deck.

Coming out onto the expanse of the deck in question, Wren caught sight of Matthias and Kingsley in the middle of what appeared to be a brawl. Interested, he slid out of the door and leaned back against the solid wood of the ship side, his head canted to one side as he watched.

Clearly, they had done this before. Often, by the looks of it, though Kingsley seemed to be a much harder hitter.

The sight of the metal curled around the man's fists, however, caused a feeling of unease to rise in Wren's chest. His hands clenched around the rifle he still held and a muscle twitched beneath his left eye. It took a moment for him to realize that his breath was beginning to come more and more quickly, and he made an effort to slow it.

No, this wasn't like that place. The two men seemed to be enjoying themselves—this was in fun.

Wren's hands clenched again, and a shoulder jerked convulsively before he was able to bring himself back to stillness.

This was fine. They weren't here, Wren thought.

Kingsley had even pulled Matthias to his feet, and both men were smiling. Wren smiled reflexively.

Halfway through the sparring match, Roger had made his own way onto the deck and sat, one knee propped up in a lazy manner, watching with delight as the events unfolded. It would be standard for Roger to have taken bets on the outcome of the match, but this didn't seem like the best time or place. In fact, the sight of the two officers fighting put him in mind of the young Republic soldiers, who would often spar as a means to blow off steam from the day to day stresses. And, of course, to have fun.

Roger clapped and gave a hearty cheer as the men finished their fight, clearly appreciative of the show.

When Matthias inquired as to whether or not anyone else would like to try, Wren straightened and looked around the deck for a partner. Searching eyes fell on Roger, who looked quite interested, to say the least.

As if to inquire, Wren fixed his pale stare on the man as he approached and extended a hand down to him in greeting. There was no hesitation this time, as the marksman was getting into the habit of, what appeared to be, proper introductions.

"Would you like to fight?" Wren asked, his lilting voice holding a note of interest.

Roger blinked a few times at the weary-looking chap with a rifle who'd approached him. He figured that this man, thin though he was, would probably be his best match up.

"Gladly friend," he responded with a smile, grasping Wren's hand and pulling himself up.

Pleased with the acceptance of his offer, Wren hoisted the man to his feet, then turned away from the crew and looked about for a place to lay his coat and boots; both were too large for him and would only get in the way. Settling for a large, wooden crate, Wren peeled off the dingy wool coat and kicked off the worn boots and set them aside, his socks tucked into them. He then paused for a moment, staring down at the rifle. After another moment, he discreetly removed the bullets and slipped them into the pocket of his discarded coat. A small voice, somewhere in the back of his mind, said that was the safest thing to do.

The marksman now wore only a loose, gray shirt and dark, threadbare slacks, and he was seemingly unconcerned about his bare feet.

Roger too took the opportunity to undergo his own preparations. He removed the gear that could potentially damage the ship or that simply shouldn't be used in a sparring match: his arc rifle and pack, along with a few small, hand-sized canisters with runes carved into them. He did, however, keep his machete on his person, as well as his entire outfit. He'd become so accustomed to fighting in it that sparring without it would be pointless. Before returning to meet his opponent, Roger reached into his bag and pulled out his gas mask helmet, looked at it for a moment, then pulled it on.

The, once high-spirited, soldier returned to where Wren stood waiting and taking in the deck. A cold sort of distance could be observed in Roger's posture as he approached. Now in full uniform, the ex-Republic drew his black and gray machete from its sheath and flipped it over so he would strike with the blunt edge of the blade. Runes, carved into the sides of the blade, lit up and spelled out the word "spark," as lines of electricity crackled off the blade and illuminated the blank eye sockets of his mask.

The too-thin man had unfolded the strap of his rifle and slung the weapon over his shoulder so that it rested on his back. He regarded the weapon with such a nonchalant manner, it could only be assumed that he was using altered bullets if he was using his rifle in a sparring match.

They were both armed, then.

"Let's begin then, yes?" Wren quipped, smiling at the other man and noting his glowing blade with interest.

Roger gave a silent but noticeable nod in response before bending his knees slowly so his opponent would see there would be no "ready, set, go." Without a word, Roger dashed straight up to Wren with surprising speed, considering everything he was wearing, his machete raised high. In an instant, he slashed downward, the blade crackling with electricity like an improvised stun rod, just missing Wren's face.

Taking another step back, Wren shifted his weight and directed a kick at the man's side, catching him along the ribs. The kick, however, didn't seem to do much to the man. He was much sturdier than Wren was, it seemed. Indeed, Roger hardly felt the blow-- between the padding and his trained physique, he was well-protected. He tried to wrap his free arm around the leg that had kicked him, but Wren was swift and was able to keep pace, dodging out of the way.

Momentarily clear, Wren swung the rifle off his back and gripped it between his hands in the way one might hold a quarterstaff. Instead of waiting for Roger to approach, he began to circle around the soldier, his lithe form held low.

Roger quickly pivoted his body to follow along with his circling partner, his boots making a sliding noise along the deck as he did so. His military training was quickly taking over as he coldly decided that stopping his agile opponent's movements was a top priority. He wouldn't do well if he couldn't move so quickly.

The soldier's next strike was a low kick, aimed at Wren's forward knee. Unable to get out of reach, Wren launched himself forward as the man kicked out at him, but a fraction of a second too slow. The man's boot connected with Wren's leg as he jumped, catching him on the inside of the left knee. It wasn't as bad as it could've been, but Wren knew his jump was going to fall short, so he dropped and rolled over his shoulder, the rifle curled to his chest. Instead of standing from the crouch he landed in, he pivoted on the spot, swinging the butt of the gun up as he did so in an effort to knock the blade from other's hands.

The blow from the gun didn't disarm him, but merely knocked the soldier's hand back. It was long enough, however, for Wren to skitter out of the way and regroup on his feet.

Up until this point, Wren had worn a vague smile, but something about the blank eyes of the man's mask seemed to have unhinged a part of him. His smile faded as the man drew closer, his own expression taking on a hardened sort of look, and his fingers tightened convulsively on the rifle.

Without warning, he charged at the soldier, ducking to the side as the electrified blade passed by his head at the last moment and again bringing the rifle around in a quick, sweeping blow. He swung harder this time and immediately after lashed out with a kick, aimed at the back of Roger's knees.

Roger could feel the blows to the back of his knee, causing his leg to twitch but he shook it off and swung at the marksman in retaliation. A stunning pain caught Wren across the right shoulder, and he again rolled out of the way and was on his feet, darting in to swing and jab at the man before rolling or darting away once more, seemingly oblivious to the numbness in his arm and damage he was taking. Each swing, kick, and jab Wren made at his opponent grew more and more forceful, his quick movements and lanky, skittering form giving him the odd appearance of a large, impervious spider.

In the growing intensity of the fight, Wren had lost of sense of where he was. He knew only that he was facing an opponent that fought with a growing ferocity to match his own, and he had to end this fight. If he didn't, they would come. They would take him back, and he wasn't going to let that happen. He would not be punished for this. No! He was done with this!

With a violent jolt, Wren forced himself around and brought the rifle up in a practiced motion, shoving the end of the barrel against the underside of the soldier's chin. He stared blankly at Roger, who, at the same moment had moved his own weapon against Wren's throat, though surprisingly in the last moment Roger had changed his grip, the bladed edge pressing against the marksman's neck. The electricity had dissipated.

Eyes still blankly fixed on the man's mask, Wren pulled the trigger.

When nothing happened, he blinked.

After a moment, he seemed to come back to himself and, slowly, he lowered the rifle, got to his feet, and stepped back from his opponent. He stared at Roger for a long moment, slowly regaining his breath. They are not here, Wren told himself, and he moved to collect his belongings from the crate. Fighting did not usually leave him this exhausted, but as he reached for his coat, he found that his hands were shaking. Odd, he thought.

Roger had removed his mask with one hand once Wren had peeled off to go retrieve his things. The man was sweating from the short but fast paced spar but he had a big smile on his face after he took in some deep breaths. He quickly walked over to Wren after sheathing his weapon and joyfully wrapped a friendly arm around the thin man's shoulders. "Not too shabby, friend." With a warm smile, Roger Roads lightly pushed his fist into Wren's chest. "Whenever shit hits the fan, I've got your back if you've got mine; seeing as we're gonna be working together and all."

[/fieldbox]

 

[junebug]

Esther McCarthy
Interaction: Bee @Mundane Monster
Mention: Matthias @Lillian Gray Roger @BlueFlameNikku Wren @DinoFeather

Roger's words crushed her. She didn't have a chance to say anything else and he was gone. She sat up immediately after he left and stared down at the floorboards, her mind cycling constantly through a thousand thoughts. She could only imagine that was why no one enjoyed being around her; because she was always too damn angry, selfish, and worried about herself rather than others.

When that man said it was my fault, he was right.

The men were always right. The republic bastard who caught her was always right. Perhaps she deserved it. Esther took a deep breath and stood up. She wiped her face up and decided to go take a shower; something long denied in her current chain of events. She would come out later to the sparring training in cleaner attire. It seemed as though Roger and the thin looking guy had just finished a sparring match.

"Alright, all I'm going to be doing is air walking. Nothing too complicated, right?"

She closed her eyes and placed her hands behind her side, trying to focus and will the wind to build up pressure beside her boots. Esther glanced down at herself, barely feeling anything after a few moments. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and took a deep, calming breath, and tried again. Nothing. She wasn't getting anything. What the hell was going on? She tried it again.

"I just did it this morning, so I can do it," she spoke, her voice somewhat steady. Esther tried multiple times, but nothing happened. She cleared her throat and tried not to look embarrassed. "Well, there's always a next time. I guess I'll just fight someone. You." She pointed at the young woman who'd been startled earlier by Matthias' orders for them to show off their abilities.

"Wanna fight?"

 

[Mundane Monster]

BEE

Location: Skyport Overlook

Interactions: @Kit Kat (Esther)

Bee watched the spar between her two new employers with awe and dread. Mr. Lee was an Earth affinity too but his skills were way beyond hers. She couldn't do metal! And there was no actual dirt around for her to do the alternative! And even if she could, she could never punch another person! That was mean! It was really mean! Sure the two men were smiling but they were clearly friends! Bee wasn't friends with anyone on the ship and couldn't imagine punching them and then smiling like she hadn't just assaulted them!

Her heart hammered in her chest as the spar ended and Mr. Lee told them to pair up. People obeyed and began shifting about and finding their partners while all Bee could do was stand there frozen. Her eyes shot from side to side, searching each person and trying to gauge how bad it would hurt to fight each of them.

She was granted a moment of reprieve when the stray cat guy who hadn't provided his name and Esther Engineer's beau began to spar. Bee tried to follow the spar and note their moves, but with every move they made, she knew she'd never be able to replicate them and she was still doomed. When the fight ended, she clapped out of politeness even though she was still scared to death of what would happen when she--

"Wanna fight?" Bee jumped a foot in the air when Esther Engineer materialized in front of her pointing an intimidating finger. Bee instinctively leaned back as if said digit would start firing bullets into her person. "Um--uh, okay!" She chirped nervously, a stupid wavering grin etched onto her face as rivulets of sweat shot down her back. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She berated herself. You were supposed to say no and beg to be excluded from sparring! Dang it, Belinda! You really fuzzed it this time!

Putting her fists in front of her, Bee edged forward at a snails pace and as she approached the other woman, all knowledge of runes and their application left her. A small squeak escaped her lips and time seemed to move in slow motion as she quickened her pace, extended a fist and instinctively clenched her eyes shut as the fist moved forward, expecting a similar blow in return.

 

[junebug]

Esther McCarthy & Bee
Interaction: Bee @Mundane Monster, Esther @Kit Kat, Everyone
Mention: None
Collab between @Mundane Monster & @Kit Kat

Esther's hands instintively went up as soon as Bee accepted her proposal. She guarded her face with her fists and watched as the blow from her right hand came for her face. Bee made the mistake of closing her eyes and Esther blocked immediately with her left arm and parried with her right hand. Esther took the chance to try and knock Bee off her feet by introducing a swift side kick to the side of her leg.

Bee had naively thought that simply throwing one punch would have sufficed for a spar. She'd expected Ma'am Esther to hit her back and that would be that. But nope, apparently a spar had to last for more than a few seconds and apparently kicking was a thing. Bee's eyes flew open as Esther swiped her with her leg and the smaller girl went down like a sack of screaming potatoes. A sharp pain shot through her as she landed on her backside, and a pouty frown set on her face. As she scrambled to her feet, her mind raced to figure out a different way to attack. She'd only fought one person before and that was when she'd been really mad. Although...She was kind of upset now. Getting kicked and falling on your butt hurt. Kind of a lot. A feeling of irritation flowed through her and Bee felt her lip curling a bit. Suddenly she launched herself forward with her head down like a bull with the intent of headbutting the other woman.

Esther tried not to let her arrogance get the best of her when Bee pouted. She pressed her lips together; an attempt to keep from laughing. It seemed Bee wasn't experienced at all; a notion that made her feel good inside and just as Esther turned her back, ready to leave, she felt a force crash into her back and knock her down unexpectedly. Shit. Esther grimaced and tried to think of something quick. Bee was harnessing her down the floor; any moment she let go, it was possible Esther could have a chance to roll out of it, or more likely, try and do a back kick. Esther snorted, "Didn't know you liked my ass that much."

Success! She'd taken her down like a cat catching a mouse! Or rather--A smaller cat taking down a bigger cat. All anger dissipated as fireworks exploded in her brain, celebrating her success in the spar. Why had she been so nervous earlier? She could totally do this! She--"Huh?!" She spluttered at what Esther said, and quickly realized that she was in fact arranged quite awkwardly on the other woman's back...side. Flinging herself to the side, Bee stuttered and stammered for a few moments, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. "I wasn't! I mean! I wasn't planning to do that! I don't like your--butt!" She finally spat out, then cringed, thinking that the way she said that was a bit too harsh. She was just flustered, she didn't mean to sound so surly!

"Wait that's not what I meant--" Bee groaned, rubbing a palm against her face.

Esther immediately got back on her feet the moment Bee left and laughed, "Rule number one: Stop taking everything so seriously. Rule number two: Never leave yourself unguarded." She lunged herself at the gal and tried to grab ahold of her wrists and get them behind her back.

Esther shocked Bee by laughing and she nervously returned the emotion. Thinking that the spar was finally over, Bee breathed a sigh of relief, only to choke on it when Esther lunger at her, trapping her in an arm hold. Wriggling and grunting with effort, Bee tried to flee the other woman's grasp but to no avail. With no other option but to go boneless, Bee did just that.

She held Bee down for a few and pointed out a few pressure points, one above the clavicle, one under the jaw, and another in the forearm. "Are you finished?" she questioned Bee. "Or should I continue?"

Irritated once more, this time at being patronized Bee performed one last spectacular display of flailing before, nodding and grunting out a "Yeah."

"Right." Esther got off of Bee and stood up. She held her hand out to help the girl get up. "How's your ass? Does it still hurt?"

"No," She lied as she got up, fixing the engineer with a suspicious look. She had no real way of knowing the spar was actually over, since they'd had an exchange before but Esther had grabbed her. Finally regaining her footing, Bee retreated several steps with the intent of removing herself from the 'battle field'.

Esther backed up, hands in the air. "Okay then. Glad we could set the record straight, Bee. I'll be in my room, if anyone needs me."

She left the area promptly.

 

[angstymochi]

Izabella Levitskaya
Location: Nerissa, Main Deck | Interactions: None | Mentions: @Kit Kat @Mundane Monster

❅​

Watching the short woman -- her name was Bee, yes? -- fighting the other woman -- her name was Esther, if Izabella heard correctly -- was somewhat amusing. As their fight drew to a close, Izzy smirked and looked down at her own black leather armguards. Each one had a few runes etched in; both runes for water and one for ice, as well as protection and air. The first four are necessary, but you may wonder why an ice affinity would require an air rune. It was mainly to help with drawing water out of the air, which could be done without the air rune but was much easier with it.

Izabella took the silver flask from her belt and opened it, letting a few drops spill onto her hand. She reattached the flask to her hip and willed the humidity to collect into her palm. It collected into the shape of an icy dagger, complete with a ridged hilt and a decorative pommel. It was perfectly weighted, and was an exact replica of the dagger sheathed at her side. While water and ice weren't as useful in battle as other affinities, she knew how to make it work. The ability to make a dagger out of ice was an extremely useful skill if you somehow lose your metal one in the heat of the battle.

The dagger hardened, growing cold enough to burn her hand if she wasn't wearing gloves. The ice steamed in the warm air, but with her energy flowing through it, it wouldn't melt. With a flick of her wrist, she threw the dagger. It sliced through the air, sailing across the room, and embedded itself into the wooden railing of the ship directly ahead of her.

She felt the ice beginning to melt, and unwilling to let a perfectly good dagger go to waste, she held up her hand and the dagger flew back into her hand. She was out of practice, unfortunately, and the dagger was now lumpy looking, having collected more of the water vapor in the air on the way back. She sighed and let the ice melt. It splashed to the deck in a sad looking puddle.

 

[Mundane Monster]

Belinda 'Bee' Mayer + Izabella Levitskaya [Collab]
Interaction: Bee @Mundane Monster, Izabella @Bjorn

As she became free of her spar with Esther Engineer, the adrenaline began rolling off Bee in waves, making her feel very tired all of a sudden. She'd never been so panicked, excited and angry all at one before! It was a strange feeling that she wasn't sure she wanted to replicate.

"Well, now you don't have to!" She said to herself happily. She hadn't been booted from the ship for her poor display of fighting skills so she figured she was okay--Suddenly a dagger flew through the air and embedded itself into the ship's railing. Bee's eyes grew to the size of saucers and as the dagger yanked itself out of the wood and back into the hands of it's owner, Bee turned to stare at Izabella Icicle. The woman looked disappointed and the knife--which was apparently made of ice?!--turned into a puddle under it's owner's less than satisfied gaze.

Creeping forward, hesitantly, Bee shot the other woman a smile. "That was cool. Get it? Cool? Cause it was ice and--you get it." She laughed nervously hoping the woman would at least reciprocate Bee's positive vibe, as she'd been pretty nonchalant for the majority of time they'd been on the ship.

Izabella looked at 'Bee' and frowned. "Yes, I get it," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Why is your name Bee?" The girl didn't look anything like a bee, and didn't seem to have the temperament of one, either.

Well she hadn't been expecting that, but it was better than being given the cold shoulder or something of the like. "Well, my name's actually Belinda but my dad and all of my friends call--called me Bee. Because I'm always busy like a bee and buzzing with excitement?" That last part was a guess but the first part was true at least.

Izzy nodded absently. "Would you like to spar, then? I haven't practiced my hand-to-hand in a few weeks."

Did she want to spar? Did she really? Sparring with Esther had been tiring and terrifying. But maybe that was because Esther was so much more experienced than her. But Izabella--Bee wondered if she'd let her call her Izzy--just said she hadn't practiced in a while. Did that mean she was good at fighting? Was Bee about to get beat again? But she didn't want to say no! What if this was her only chance at gaining another friend on this ship?

"Um...Okay!" She said, bright smile still shining on her face.

Izzy rolled her eyes then stepped towards the middle of the deck, holding her fists up defensively. This will be easy, she thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Bee frowned when Izabella rolled her eyes and rescinded her thought about asking to call her by a nickname. Nicknames were for nice people and rolling your eyes was the definition of not being nice. Jutting out a lip and glaring, Bee mimicked Izabella's status and waited. She wasn't quite sure how to start really. Attacking Esther with a punch had failed and even though she was fighting a completely different person, she decided not to go that route.

When Bee didn't move to fight, Izzy stepped forward and feinted a punch aimed towards Bee's jaw, then swung her leg out and kicked Bee's legs out from under her. That was easy enough.

As Izabella's fist flew towards her face, Bee reared backwards only to discover that the woman had tricked her and within seconds, Bee found herself on her back on the ground, glaring up at the sky. Unleashing an annoyed groan, she scrambled to her feet and lunged at Izabella.

Izzy sighed, watching as Bee lunged, using nearly the exact same tactic as she did when she fought Esther. The girl had obviously never been trained in combat. How pathetic. Izzy ducked down and grabbed Bee around the waist, flipping her short and surprisingly heavy body over her shoulder. She landed with a loud thud on the deck behind Izzy.

And she was on her back again, but this time she was seeing stars. That one had hurt. A lot. Her eyes watered a bit from the pain, and she sat up slowly, fixing the other woman with the same look, she'd aimed at Esther. But this time when she got up, she didn't approach the other girl again and simply crossed her arms and planted her feet firmly. "Your hand to hand combat seems pretty good to me." She grumbled, a feeling of annoyance settling down around her.

"Or maybe yours just isn't," Izzy shot back with a taunting smirk.

"I never even said I had any!" Bee screeched, her fists balled up at her sides.

Izzy shrugged. "I thought not. Now, I'm going to find out where I'll be sleeping." She turned on her heel and walked away, humming a song she had heard a few days ago to herself.

 

[Lillian Gray]

Clarke - First in Command


Date | 6th month, 21st day, 1286
Location | Nerissa, Skydocks - Mirefield, Netima
Mood | Anxious
Mentions | Izabella @Bjorn Roger @BlueFlameNikku Wren @DinoFeather Esther @espoir Fia @Kimberlyn Wylan @mingummy Bee @Mundane Monster Kingsley @Spectre of the Fade

The sparring had given something for Matthias to think about as he tried to catch a few peaceful hours of sleep before the day moved on. He kicked his toe against the cabin wall, rocking himself in the hammock he called his bed. His eyes were closed, his body seemingly too calm for the restless thoughts keeping him from the slumber he desperately needed. Normally he slept in the med bay, but given the current circumstances of having a full ship, he figured remaining in his cabin was probably a better idea in case any of his new crew came looking for their Major.

At least now that he had the chance to assess and learn the names of his crew, Matthias could begin to formulate a decent plan. There was a tolerable mix of Affinities, although they were a bit strong when it concerned Air. Not that it was a bad thing to have an extra Air Affinity around, certainly not. Matthias counted himself lucky to have someone from each of the major five classes at the bare minimum. Seeing them in action gave him an idea of what each particular crew member was fully capable of.

First, there was the quick bout between Roger and the man who couldn't remember his own name, their songbird. Matthias rather enjoyed watching the two of them spar, and their willingness to go first was encouraging. Roger was hiding an Arc Affinity, something rather difficult to have any mastery over due to the difficult nature of fire itself. Lightning was obviously no easier. It would be a useful Affinity to have on board in the event they ever encountered a thunderstorm, that was for certain. There was something similar in Roger's fighting style that Matthias saw in Kingsley as well, and he attributed it to some kind of prior military training. It was the only thing that explained his uniformity and tact. Then there was the songbird. He had no Affinity, no natural talent for any of the five. Matthias had his suspicions when they had met in the market, but to meet someone without an Affinity was a rare thing indeed. His hand to hand combat experience and lithe actions made up for it greatly. But there was something uncanny about the way he could so easily pull the trigger on his new comrade. Something Matthias would need to keep an eye on if their songbird if the songbird was going to stay on board with them all.

Then, there was Esther and Bee. Matthias knew enough about Esther to judge what she might do in a fight. She wasn't against sly tactics and backhanded moves. There was nothing standard about the way she would throw a punch and he damn well appreciated her style. Much like the color of her hair, she was red and fiery. But Bee? Oh Bee. Matthias cringed thinking about the way she handled herself in both of her spars. She knew where to put her hands, but it was obvious she had never been in a real fight. If she had? Well, then Matthias didn't have a doubt in his mind that she had ended up on her ass then, too. There were a dozen different applications for her Earth Affinity related to power and she didn't have the slightest show of them.. Kingsley would have to spend some one on one time with her in order to hone those skills. In the meantime, Matthias would have to see what else he could have her do on the ship. There had to be some talents she was unintentionally hiding. Bee was too sweet to let go this soon, and Matthias was determined to show her that not every man on a ship had to throw a punch, though it was certainly preferred.

Lastly, was Izabella, or Izzy. She had been rather quiet but when she did speak she was crude and sarcastic. Matthias was also pleased to see she was using her Water Affinity combatively. On its own, Water was not an offensive Affinity in the slightest. It had more practical applications in farming and energy. Granted, ice was the most common application to make use of the Affinity in such a manner, but he was relieved nonetheless to see she could make quick work of an opponent with the Sub-Affinity. Her ice dagger had been well crafted and she had wonderful control of the water from her flask.

Fia and Wylan were the only two who hadn't been forward enough to show their skills. Though, Wylan had disappeared somewhere and Matthias wasn't sure if he was coming back. As for Fia? Matthias would let it slide. It had dawned on him sometime through these fights on the deck of the Nerissa that he remembered who she was. They had met as children. Matthias had been rather cruel to her, as boys often were to girls. Their father's sometimes found work together and crossed paths often. If Fia had grown to be even an ounce of what her father was, from the stories Matthias had heard from stranger and his own father alike, he wasn't worried about the woman's abilities. Not really.

So far, the crew was turning out to be interesting.

---

Earlier today...


Once again, Matthias had gathered his ragtag crew into the war room. The bags under his eyes were nothing more than faded bruises of the former purple shadows, and he'd managed to slip in a shower sometime between his endless sleep and hurried breakfast. He was looking much more of the Insurgency Major he was than the day before. There was a more serious expression on his face, and his eyes were less telling of the excitement he felt in his gut. The air was somber now, Matthias couldn't help but let his nerves get the better of him with the day of the auction looming over his head now.

Introductions were out of the way, sleeping arrangements were all well and done, and the crew seemed to be settling in just fine. All that was left was to lay out his plan and put it into motion. Easy, right? This was good, Matthias thought, all well and good.

Scattered across the table in place of a country map was an old layout of Mirefield. Several places were circled with a thick red marker. The skydocks, where the Nerissa was located, the old Adelaide Opera and Theatre Company, and an alley just a block away from the burned down theatre. These three locations marked the crucial placements of the crew and their missions.

"Welcome back everyone, I hope you're all rested and ready." Matthias drummed his fingers on the wooden table, the unease and anxiety showing through already. He had hoped he would last longer than a few minutes before his worry showed. But there was a rumor that concerned him, sending shivers down his spine just thinking about the possibility of what was looming on the horizon. "Before we begin I'd like to share a rumor I heard from a reliable source. A Dreadnought has been sighted outside the ceasefire zone of the city limits. It's believed to be piloted by Theodore Wilkins, General of the Republic Army. Ground forces are in tow. I don't have much beyond that, but it makes this mission much more critical. We get in, we get out, before we even have the slightest chance of a run in with that behemoth. Everyone understand? We don't have the firepower to deal with something that size."

"For this mission, there will be three groups. One will be led by myself, Kingsley, and then Esther. Please pay close attention to where you'll be, we can't make any mistakes if we're going to do this right. We act in stages. Myself, then Kingsley, and then we hightail it out of here. So watch for cues."

"Now I say group, but I only need one person to come with me. It's important there be two, and only two, crew members inside the auction. I will stay inside and one of you will need to inform Kingsley's group when the Source has begun it's bidding war. They'll likely move the Source to a secure location after it's been purchased, and it's the only window we have to take it." Matthias was still drumming his fingers. Call it his nerves, he didn't care, it was keeping him sane. He cautiously looked to Fia and spoke slowly. "Fia, if you would, I'd like for you to join me at the auction. We can talk about it later if you'd rather not."

Fia perked up at the sound of her name, a slight blush creeping up her neck as she realized she'd only been half-listening. Clearing her throat, she grinned and replied, "Of course. I know this city like the back of my hand. You might need my help, anyways."

Matthias nodded his head in appreciation, a smile playing out on his lips, but his fingers continued to incessantly drum on the table.

"Kingsley, you know your bit. There's an alley outside the back of the theatre. Izzy, Songbird, the both of you will join Kingsley in breaking past the auction guards as soon as Fia joins you. The four of you will need to be quick, and quiet. If something goes wrong, I can't guarantee I'll make it in time to be of any help." Truth be told, Matthias was worried about them. It would be difficult enough to break in undetected, but to remain incognito as well as obtain the crown jewel of the auction? He did not envy the task. Alas, Matthias wasn't made for stealth. He was a medic, not a mouse. "A word of warning, do not touch the Source directly. If it's real, legend says you'll go mad, or lose the ability to use your affinity. I don't want to take chances. As soon as you have it, return to the Nerissa and wait for me."

"Esther, you'll stay on the ship with Roger and Miss Bee. Watch for anything suspicious, I can't guarantee no one will come looking for the ship once we've obtained the Source. And with those rumors regarding the Dreadnought, well...let's just hope it doesn't come to that. We need to play it safe. I want her ready to fly when you see us coming. We'll likely return to Bexley so we can sort out what to do with the thing, so that'll be our heading."

"Now that I've explained the mission briefly, I'll take questions and assist in any preparation. We do have an armory…" Matthias droned on and waited for any questions, answering as best he could and clearly as he could. They only had so much time left now.

---

Present time…


It was just after six and the sun was nowhere near setting. Shimmering rays gleamed off curled up Sol sails in the skydocks, giving the area a faint golden glow that warmed the skies. Matthias stretched his arms upward and took slow steps to the edge of the deck. The maze-like framework of the skydocks was an odd marvel. Through the chaos of ships coming and going, there was a definite structure to it all which was actually quite a clever layout. Depending on how this mission went down, it may very well be the last time Matthias or anyone would see the Mirefield docks in quite some time. Theft inside of a ceasefire zone wasn't prohibited per-se, but depending on who was interested in the Source at auction, it could be grounds for a major dogfight.

Best not to think about the consequences.

"Kingsley." Matthias gave a nod to his Captain. "If anything goes wrong, you get out of here. Don't wait up for me for too long, you get out of the city with that Source no matter what. We're too damn close for anything less than success tonight."

There wasn't any doubt in Matthias' mind that they would be successful, but a persistent nagging tugged at his confidence as the hours trickled by. He watched with grim determination as Kingsley led Izzy and the Songbird away, leaving Esther, Bee, and Roger to the deck, and Matti and Fia to arrive at the auction. They'd be stretched thin if anything went wrong, but Matthias couldn't afford to think like that. It would work. It had to work.

"Alright, Fia?" Matthias turned around in search of his partner for the evening. From his coat pocket he produced the two black masks he had purchased the day prior as well as the thin tickets. He held out a pair for the woman to take for herself. "You ready to go? No turning back after we're inside."

 

[junebug]

Esther

A brief smile crossed her lips as Esther stretched her arms up and above her head.

"Well, looks like you guys are stuck with me."

"Bee, Roger, you heard the major. Keep an eye out and I'll do the same. Don't slack. If you have any questions while the major is gone, let me know. I promise I don't bite. I'll be out on deck for the time being." She went back to her room and opened the top drawer of her dresser. Nothing. "Bee! Get over here!" Esther closed her top drawer and opened the other drawers. "My clothes are still intact. Where did you put my pressure gauge? And where the hell is the rest of the cogs and antiques I had up here? They were here yesterday. What did you do?" Esther walked over to the nightstand and opened up the top drawer and bottom drawer. Her notes were still there, at least.

She grabbed her notebooks; full of directions and last minute ideas and theories, as well as what she planned to do with the pressure gauge and a little project for Roger. "Did you throw away anything else?" Esther made her way towards the back of the ship where the trash was usually put. "I've got a job for you, Bee." She grabbed a cardboard box from the shop and handed it off to Bee with the assumption that she would take it. "You're gonna follow me to the forge area where you threw away my collectibles and you're going to place them back in that cardboard box. Every last bit. I don't think you want to know what's going to happen if you miss an antique."

The young woman left Bee promptly to go after Roger with the hope that her fellow crew member would be helpful and follow her orders. She needed to apologize for yesterday. Her behavior was not permissible and now that everyone was gone, she'd finally get another chance to say sorry and explain why she'd been angry. Esther gripped her notebook and flipped twenty or so pages towards the middle where a lot of infrequent scribblings and thoughts were written all over the page. The frayed edges of the paper and burnt holes on the sides said a lot about Esther. She kept this notebook with her a lot of the time; especially when she was working in the mechanic shop.

She approached her friend with a calm demeanor and closed the notebook.

"Hey, Roger. Got a moment to spare for cranky ole Es?"

---

TAGS @Mundane Monster @BlueFlameNikku MENTIONS everyone​

 

[BlueFlameNikku]

Roger Roads

The ex-Republic soldier had happily slept well last night and seemed to be settling in well enough. It'd been awhile since he'd lived with others and he welcomed that considering the guy lived on his own for quite some time yet he craved social interaction.

Roger's mind couldn't help but ponder over the rumor of a Republic Dreadnought hovering about not far away. He'd never actually been on a ship of that magnitude before but it didn't take much imagination to know what that beast of a ship was capable of. Though the other part of the plan that had been occupying the man's thoughts was his role in this plan. Not only was he pulling guard duty on the ship which was boring as all hell but wouldn't complain about it he was also in Esther's group and she was basically in charge while Matthias and Kingsley were away grabbing the package. The man had been on the deck leaning by the ships edge for awhile now getting use to his surroundings and keeping watch just as he was instructed; wearing his full attire of gear (excluding his helmet) and armaments with his signature arc rifle tucked in his arms. He couldn't help but sigh only being left with his thoughts and the various faint sounds of the port. If he was a praying man he'd pray for everyone's safety but he'd never believed in such things. Instead he told himself they'd be fine and everything would go smoothy and that's all the assurance he needed.

Unexpectedly he turned his head to see his childhood friend approach; no doubt to make sure he wasn't slacking he was sure of it. He looked at her with a muted indifferent face as she spoke to him. He looked out at the rest of the port slightly away from where she stood figuring she didn't want much to do with him anymore. "Not like I'm doing much else right now I suppose." His eyes were off putting as they were blank in a sense with no real spark in them. "What do you need from me...Esther?" He trailed off on her name as if had to strain to say her full first name not being natural to him. But considering what he remembered she hated it anyways...besides...she'd outgrown such nicknames it seems. He'd think to himself somberly.

Interactions: @Kit Kat
Mentions: @Lillian Gray @Spectre of the Fade

 

[junebug]

Esther

The sadness and pain in Roger's tone sunk deep into the pit of Esther's stomach and made her feel sick inside. She tried to laugh it off and smile. "Hey, bud. What happened to Esy? Why so down? It's a new day and we get to guard the ship. How cool is that?" She grinned from ear to ear, an effort to cheer up the despondence that Roger illuminated. She bit her lip. He refused to look at her, much less speak to her.

Esther tried not to let it get to her but it still seemed that perhaps there was something wrong with her. How could she have done this? To him, no less? She was a terrible friend. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing like nothing happened. I was out of line. I had no right to be angry at you for your decisions. I should've kept it in and not said anything. I'm sorry." Her right hand reached up to try and hug her body; a sign of discomfort. Perhaps he just wanted to be alone; away from her for a while. She could understand that.

"Um, I'd been meaning to share with you, I mean. Nevermind. I acknowledge I was stupid. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'll just leave you alone. You need time, I understand. I probably need it too." She could feel her eyes brimming with tears but she blinked it away. It was better to just wait until he felt like talking to her. Esther held her breath and walked away, the notebook on top of her small pile closing. Her breath shook as she struggled to maintain what little there seemed to be left of her.

Esther grabbed the whiskey Matti had brought home for her, took a glass from the cabinet, and went over to the living area. She kicked off her boots and poured herself a glass. She wasn't cut out for this kind of stuff. Maybe she wasn't cut out for friendship either. Esther shook and took a large gulp of the whiskey and another, hurried and impatient. She coughed and sat up. Her body ached with tension. The one day that she felt considerably 'fine', she had to ruin it for another.

It's gotta be great, messing everything up.

She poured herself another glass of whiskey and sipped some of it, the burn on the back of her throat comforting, somehow, but also frustrating.

---

TAGS @BlueFlameNikku MENTIONS none​

 

[Mundane Monster]

BEE

Location: Nerissa Forge Room

Interactions/Mentions: @Kit Kat (Esther) @BlueFlameNikku (Roger)

At the end of the day after all the sparring and her humiliating losses, all Bee wanted to do was sleep. But she couldn't sleep. At least not in this room. This was the only room available to her cause she didn't want to share a room with Isabella the Intolerable, and she knew that even if he wasn't here, her dad would literally pop a blood vessel if she shared living quarters with a guy, so that left Esther. And Esther was...Nice-ish. She'd given Bee tips and she'd been a lot nicer in the spar than Isabella. The only thing about Esther was that she was...Bee didn't want to bad mouth the woman, even in her thoughts but...The engineer was a slob.

Her whole life, Bee's room had always been neat and impeccably organized. Her dad had charged her with keeping the house tidy, and she'd done so with gusto and efficiency. Organization and cleaning was one of her many talents and she found it stressful to live in a messy area. When it had been decided that they would room together, Esther had done the best she could do make Bee's side of the room 'clear'. And by 'clear', she really just shoved all of her things onto her side of the room. Bee appreciated the movement, but it still irked her to look over at the other woman's side of the room which was basically a trash heap and a bed.

She figured that as her roommate, it was Bee's duty to maintain the cleanliness and tidiness of both sides of the room. After all, who didn't like a clean room?

* * *
"Gosh freaking darn it." Bee muttered as she rummaged through the forge's trash pile. She was never going to clean anything ever again. Apparently all the junk that cluttered up Esther's top drawer wasn't trash, it was actually stuff the woman cared about. Bee's shirt snagged on a jagged gear-ish looking thing and she slowly untangled it from the cloth. "Oh, I can definitely see the sentimental value." She sneered and tossed the offending item in the cardboard box that the engineer had 'given' her. This was not how she thought she'd be spending her first official day on the Nerissa. She'd been excited when Major Clarke had mentioned the auction but saddened when he hadn't picked her to go. Then she'd gotten excited cause that meant he trusted her enough to watch the ship! And she'd gotten even more excited cause she'd gotten left with Esther and Roger, so she was totally gonna get to see some chaste kisses and probably hear some romantic poetry--

And now she was digging through trash like a common raccoon.

Nice.

 

[kixinorbit]

[fieldbox="Wren Donaghue, #B69F6A, solid, 10, Book Antiqua"]Location: Mirefield > Back Alley
Mood: Curious, Alert
Status: Rested, Waiting

---

After the sparring had concluded, Wren had wandered back into the ship to where the crew quarters were located. Due to numbers, it worked out that he received a room to himself, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that the room included a bed, ready with sheets, blankets, and even a pillow. It was an odd thing, but it came back to him then that he hadn't slept with a pillow in a very long time. Delighted with the room, Wren had draped his coat on a corner post of the top bunk and carefully stowed his boots and rifle under the bed before seeking out the shower.

Despite the comfortable quarters and being wholly exhausted, Wren had found sleeping initially quite difficult. He had no way of knowing when or if they would show up, and he felt exposed just laying on the bed. After some rearranging, however, Wren found a solution. Having tugged the mattress from the bottom bunk, he slid it under the bed. There was just enough room for him to lay on the mattress, his rifle within reach. Finally, he tugged the blanket from the top bunk and draped it over the now-empty bottom bunk, hanging it over the side like a curtain. Obscured in his small space below the bed, Wren finally found sleep.

A solid night of sound sleep worked wonders for Wren. He awoke feeling rested, warm, and comfortable—and, for the first time, he could recall—safe. Sleep, coupled with having showered in an actual shower also seemed to have improved his overall appearance. His healing wounds were clean of the dried blood and his complexion was much healthier. The dark rings under his eyes and facial bruising had faded somewhat, and his choppy, disheveled hair no longer lay matted and lank against his head.

It was an odd notion, but being fed, clean, and rested made him feel considerably more human than he had felt in a long, long time.

---

Wren's fingers tensed around the stock of the rifle as he crouched in the shadowed alley, his dingy coat serving as a surprisingly effective camouflage against the old stone of the building he leaned against. Evening had fallen as they made their way to their lookout near the old theatre. They had been waiting silently for some time, now, though Wren was far from bored. He kept pondering over the things Matthias had said about the source. He also told them to run if anything went wrong—and he had looked somewhat worried. Determined, but definitely worried.

Why was it that he needed a whole new crew? Had it really just been because it was difficult to find committed people? Or had something else happened?

Did it matter?

No. So long as this would help stop the Republic, it did not matter what had or had not happened.

An involuntary twitch began an unpleasant cramping in his left foot, and Wren leaned more of his weight against the stone wall, flexing his toes. He was no longer wearing the old and overlarge boots he'd filched from a Republic guard, but slimmer and better-fitted boots that were considerably more comfortable. He had decided to forego the old footwear as he felt it would be in the way of moving quickly and quietly, but Matthias had stopped him on the way to the armory and offered to lend him a pair of his own.

Initially, Wren had been confused and even a little startled to have something offered to him so freely. Now, however, he was appreciative of the gesture. This part of the city wasn't as clean as the other areas, and more than once he'd heard the crunch of broken glass underfoot. He has also been surprised to find that he was permitted to freely access the armory, though he chose not to replace his current weapon. Instead, he'd spent some time carefully inspecting and cleaning the rifle and collecting more ammunition, which was promptly stashed in his coat pockets.

As the minutes ticked silently on, Wren flicked his pale gaze over to Kingsley and the girl called "Izzy," watching them intently. After a few moments, he swept his gaze back to the end of the alley, wary for any sort of movement.

[/fieldbox]

 

[BlueFlameNikku]

Roger Roads

Interactions: @Kit Kat

Roger certainly did not respond to Esther nor did he turn his head to face her. With a somber expression like he had how could he. He'd always shown himself as a bright beacon of decent positive emotion most of the time; but not right now. He listened her words drag out and knew she was hurt. She always got like this as if the world's problems were all her fault and barred down on her every second of her life. He knew the feeling all too well as that same girl was his world and he'd be lying if the burden wasn't heavy but he didn't care. She was all he had and no he feared being years away...he'd lost that as well.

He didn't want to be alone nor did she though he knew Esy would never admit it. Roger clenched the barrel of his arc rifle as he fought the urge to turn around as he heard Esther walk away back into the bowels of the ship. He continued to sit there for about five more minutes until he shot up and away from the ships and began to storm his way down into the bowels of the ship as well; nearly a full scowl on his face.

As Roger searched through the rooms and finally came to the living area which Esther was residing in he unceremoniously dumped his arc rifle and arc power pack inside the room by the door as he didn't even break his strides as he made his way to Esther; the odd scowl still expressed on his. Seeing her right now he was disappointed; she'd gone straight to booze after what had just happened. However, as he stood a few steps from her Roger stared down at her for a moment before snatching the whiskey bottle from Esther and took a swig straight from it before slamming the bottle down on the nearby table. It wasn't enough to break it or spill any of the contents but it made a resounding sound of hard glass against wood.

"I'd always believed you'd be too stubborn to turn to the bottle for comfort. Guess I was wrong about that too." He clenched his fists. "Dammit Esy. Why can't you just be happy for yourself? I've tried to be happy for you when we were kids. I've always tried to have you only see the bright things in life despite the shit we lived through!" His voice was picking up volume as he spoke on. "You've always denied yourself happiness you idiot!" He nearly choked on his tongue but he then went silently as he tried containing himself so that he wouldn't do anything he'd regret.

 

[Spectre of the Fade]

LEE - THE FIRST OFFICER
Mood: Apprehensive, but ready ❖ Location: Back alleys ❖ Tagged: @DinoFeather @Bjorn

It was like he was a Republic lieutenant again.

He wasn't, of course. Obviously. He wasn't wet behind the ears, not after all this time, and he was an entirely different person on an entirely different side of the war. Still, there was something similar enough that he had to draw the comparison. Some shared feeling. Lee had been able to pass it off in the days leading up to this one; it'd been easier to dismiss it and get on with whatever vital task he had to deal with. Now, though, it was so immediate that it was difficult to ignore.

Thoughts of the uncomfortable mass of emotion had Lee shifting on his feet, which led to the realization he'd locked his knees. He took a slow breath - through his nose, in hope Levitskaya and the Songbird wouldn't notice their leader was so nervous - and forced some slack into his stance, green eyes still turned toward the mouth of the alley. He was ready. Unequivocally and irrevocably ready. The heavy duster he'd had for far too long now hung around his shoulders, and he'd checked over all the rune-marked shot tucked so carefully into its inside pockets at least three times. His shotgun was cleaned and slung across his back, its engraved metal surface glinting in the darkness of the alleyway. His pistol was holstered at his hip, as well, loaded and ready. Two firearms were perhaps excessive, given the nature of the mission, but it was best to be prepared. And he was. He was as prepared as he could be.

Why, then, was he so nauseous? That was why he felt like little more than a green lieutenant. Nausea and uncertainty, working in tandem to turn his stomach and make him doubt his years of experience. It was like he was standing at the top of something life-changing, the world spinning too fast as he looked over the edge he wasn't quite ready to jump off of. A humbling sensation, to say the least. Too much like what he'd felt the day before his defection. Too much like the moment before he'd opened those cell doors and become a traitor to the Republic. Ten years on, he could look back at that moment and feel relieved that he'd done it; staying within the Republic military would have required a sacrifice of morality that would have ate at him for too long. Now, though, he was waiting for another one of those moments and he couldn't quite decide which was the right choice. Go forth and risk life, limb, and freedom for the sake of Matti's quest? Give up on the thing his friend had been working towards for most of the time Lee had known him? Maybe it was that paralyzing indecision that had his gut rolling. Indecision wasn't the right word for it, though. Not really. Lee had made the choice a long time ago, and he'd chosen Matthias. This wasn't exactly the future he'd envisioned back then. he hadn't really anticipated waiting in some dark alley for the opportunity to steal a Source while his friend sat in the shark tank. But, it was where they ended up, and he wasn't about to quit now. That in mind, Lee reconsidered the mass of emotion and the nausea it caused. He still had no idea why he felt that way, but perhaps -

Footsteps interrupted his train of thought. Lee straightened back up as he watched Russo run down the alleyway to the group of them. He took a few steps to meet her, and she confirmed that it was time for their part with her first few words, then quickly explained that it was the Republic who'd bought their Source. That was just fine, in Lee's book. Any chance to snub the Republic was a good chance. Republic guards would no doubt be moving in to protect their new purchase...Best to get a move on.

"Alright," Lee said with a firm nod after she'd finished, looking between the three he had with him for this mission. The insurgent, born and raised. The fierce ice affinity. The mysterious songbird. Was he really prepared to trust all three of them, with his life, his freedom, and his friend's quest? No, but there was no sense in turning back. Knowing that he was at the point of no return settled his stomach, jaw setting forward a bit and determination etching into the lines of his expression. "Let's move," he added, jerking his head towards the depths of the alley and heading in that direction. He didn't bother looking back to see if the three followed.

The route he led them on was a surprisingly long one, considering they'd been waiting only a couple of buildings down from the theater itself. Had to be a long one, though. Guards - mercenaries and thugs, hired to protect the auction and the valuable artifacts on sale - had blocked off all of the conventional methods of getting to the theater's back entrance. A couple of unconventional methods, too, if the suspiciously human-like shadows up on the heights above were any indication. Good thing Lee wasn't intending to creep across any roofs.

He guided the three around and around, through dirty backstreets and lantern-lit alleyways, with no small measure of confidence in his sense of direction shining through in his gait. Soon enough, he led them to a brick warehouse. He'd investigated the place before he and Matthias had gone recruiting; it was in use, but the weekly inspection was two days previous and there weren't any planned deliveries. Probably because of the auction. Best of all, though, the old building was right next to the theater. Pulling out a stolen key, he unlocked one of the side doors and ushered the three of them inside, then walked them through the aisles of stacked shipping crates to yet another side door, and unlocked then ushered them out that one. That second side door opened to a nondescript alley, as dirty as the rest had been but considerably smaller from wall to wall. A few feet to the right of the side door was a wall, and a few yards to the left of that side door the tiny alley opened out into a wider area. Across that area was the rear of the theater.

"Wait here," Lee mouthed to the three, one hand held up. The hand lowered, one finger pressing to his lips, then he turned towards the mouth of the alley they were in. He was the one with actual training, after all, Air Navy or no. Only fair he took the lead. Crouching low, he moved in that direction, steps as quiet as could be. He stopped at the edge of the wall, taking a slow breath before he took a quick peek out and to either side.

The wider area wasn't so much an "area" as it was a wider alley, making a path between the warehouse they'd just exited and the theater that was their destination. Both ends of the alley were blocked off with a number of mercenary guards, leaning against the walls or standing around and looking intimidating. Across the alley and slightly to the left of Lee's current position was the theater's back entrance, as expected, along with a single guard and a noisily clanking generator. The guard was bent over, fussing with a set of thick wires coming off the generator, and fairly distracted.

Lee took another slow breath before he left the cover of the alley, moving quick and quiet toward the guard, the noise of the generator covering any sound of his passage. The guard was taken completely by surprise when an arm curled around his neck. Lee brought his left arm up to secure the hold, right hand gripping the bicep of his left arm and the back of his left hand pressing the guard's head into the crease of his elbow. The guard went limp in a matter of seconds, snoring softly as soon as Lee released the hold, and Lee eased him down to the ground with care. The lengths of wire the guard had been working with served well enough to bind his hands, and a grease rag the guard had on him served well enough to keep the poor bastard quiet once he regained consciousness. Not particularly sanitary, but shit. It was better than waking up dead.

That done, Lee checked both ends of the alley - neither group of mercenaries had so much as glanced in his direction, thankfully - before he waved the other three over to join him.

He started giving directions as soon as they'd crossed over, keeping his voice low and urgent. No time to waste, even on explaining his reasons for leaving the guard trussed up but very much alive. His eyes shifted from person to person as he mentioned their names. "Levitskaya, Songbird. You two head inside. The backstage area is shaped like a big rectangle and that -" - he gestured at the theater's sizable back entrance, big enough to carry large props and the like through - "- door should open out into one of the long hallways. The two of you should split up, pick a direction, and meet back up on the opposite side. I'd put money on the door with the Republic uniforms standing watch in front of it being the one that has our Source. Keep it quiet, don't get caught, head back this way once you have it, right? And, Russo, you're with me." Individual orders given out, he switched to looking between the three of them. "I'm staying here. Russo and I can keep this entrance clear, and I'll see what I can do with that generator over there."

Again, was Lee truly prepared to trust his friend's quest to these people? Trust them not to expose him, or get him hauled off to some Republic prison until the brass deigned to put him in front of a firing squad? Not really, no. But, against his better judgment, he was doing exactly that. Five be willing that it would pay off.

"Good luck," he added before the pair disappeared into the theater. Then he reluctantly turned his attention to the generator and the guard beside it, just now coming to. The generator was of an interesting design, glowing Arc runes marking its metal surfaces and gears within it turning noisily. The guard was a bit of a problem, but Lee could probably convince him to escape through the warehouse they'd come through instead of shouting to his fellows. Mercenaries were notoriously mercenary, after all.

 

[junebug]

A Forgiving Warmth

Collab between @BlueFlameNikku & @Kit Kat

Esther didn't say anything for a few moments and let the awkward silence drag out a little. Her knuckles turned white. It wasn't her fault, was it? She'd tried to talk to him earlier and he'd shut her out. Esther grimaced. She thought she'd gotten it all right; trying to be happy around him, trying to tell him what had happened, but it was just too much for him to act like she'd done him wrong, she guessed. "I don't know, Roger! Maybe if you'd listened to me earlier, maybe if you'd just- no, nevermind. I- I don't want to do this." Esther stood up from the couch and ran her hands through her hair, skin flushed. "I-I was trying to tell you something earlier, something that I haven't told anyone else on this god forsaken ship and it just seems like you don't care, so I won't bother. I get it. I'm selfish, I'm stupid, and I'm moody. I get it. You're not interested in listening to me spill my guts anymore because after thirteen years, I'm so terrible and angry and sad that I can't be happy, right?"

Roger's eyes flared open with a flash of anger as his gloved palm came up and slapped Esther across the face with a resounding smack. He clenched his teeth and fist as the stinging pain in his hand felt like he'd stabbed himself in the heart for what he just did to Esy; he'd never ever roughly grabbed her when they were kids and had fought anyone else who practically looked at her with in a threatening way. Yet his eyes continued to glare straight back into Esther's with a blazing fire. "Despite all the beatings we'd taken, the hunger we endured the thing that always hurt you the most was always yourself; even now! After all these years you haven't grown at all!"

"You're still that little girl back in Lindon…"

Her hand shook as she touched her warm, red cheek. In the years they'd been together, before she ran away and faced a whole new threat, she couldn't recount Roger ever raising his hand to another woman, much less her. She found herself unable to comprehend, in the moment, what any of this meant. All she could feel was that her temperature had risen and her eyes had diverted, embarrassed and ashamed of herself. Esther's voice cracked. He hated her for what she'd done; he was angry at her for running away, and if he'd known, he'd surely blame her for getting caught by the republic back then as well.

"Why did you do that?"

"To make you understand," Roger responded and continued after taking in a much needed breath. "To make you understand and open your eyes to the pain your actions cause. You know what not having family feels like...and losing family…" He couldn't contain his anger but managed to control it enough so that his fist impacted hard against the wall to his right with a resounding smack as he held it there. The burning pain simply growing. "...and yet knowing that you still inflicted that kind of pain onto me." His words were now shooting at her like bullets from a gun; his face washing over with anguish.

"Nothing I ever did over those years could take that pain away. No matter how much booze I drank it could never drown out my memories. No matter how many brawls I got into I always remembered fighting off those gangs in our neighborhood when they'd threaten us. No matter how many women had provided me company none of them could compare to the warmth and love I'd felt before in the shanty wooden shack." The the first time in a long time the soldier's outer shell was fracturing. The cool always confident demeanor he'd built upon himself over the years was crumbling in front of Esther's eyes. It was collapsing back to a glimpse of how Roger use to be when he was younger. A caring crybaby with a big heart who'd always deny that he just had some dust in his eyes.

His eyes squinted in defiance at the droplets streaming from his eyes. "I just want us to be a family again; even if that means joining the new one you've been blessed with."

"Roger," she said, tone scared and shaky. "I - I was kidnapped." Tears streamed down her cheeks and her heart threatened to break free. "I was kidnapped when I left. It was all my fault." She sniffed and tried to contain the powerlessness she felt. It was no good being weak; she was supposed to be strong. "I didn't know what I was doing. I went on an airship and I left Lindon," she stuttered and sat down, hand going to her chest and holding her shirt as she tried to stop the anxiety from building. "I was so dumb and stupid."

Esther buried her head in her hands.

"They were planning to head towards Bexley and I thought "Well why don't I go there" and I got kidnapped."

She threw her hands up in the air.

"I didn't even know who piloted the ship and one night, on board, I was caught hiding in the stock area of the ship in the back. And guess what? It was those fucking bastards who killed my parents. I - I don't know who the guy was, all I know is that they were Republic and I - I was so scared because because you know what he did instead of bringing me to his captain? He beat me up and just left me there to die and that, that just makes me feel like shit because he put his stupid knife to my throat, my face, and just… violated me."

Esther broke down and crossed her arms over her chest.

"And, and you know what happened after that? We got attacked and I was so happy because it was the Insurgency and maybe, just maybe, with all the fire surrounding me from the explosion, maybe it was my fate. Maybe all these bad things were supposed to happen to me because my parents' deaths were my fault and I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't stop those men so, so what if that fire meant I was supposed to die? I was so at peace with just leaving this god damn world. So happy but did that happen? No. I get saved. And you know what happened then? I have scars. Burn scars all over me and do you know what that tells me? I'm not good enough. Hell, I even tried to run away from the hospital because I thought I didn't deserve their love and care and it took me so long to act like I valued my life, to be happy that from that point on, I was getting a family again."

She pressed her lips together, eyes glancing anywhere except at Roger. He probably didn't even hear anything she said or even cared to listen, but that was too bad. It was probably the only time she would speak of it. She sniffed, stood up, and wiped her tears away.

"I don't care if you don't care, okay? I'm sorry I hurt you but, don't fucking tell me I'm like that little girl back in Lindon because I'm not. I don't want to be her, I'm not supposed to be her. I'm supposed to be Esy, strong and confident, not Esy, weak and stupid. And before you ever think about raising your hand at me again because you think I'm just gonna magically understand what I'm doing to us by assaulting me, think about how you'd feel if someone took a knife to your body and destroyed every last bit of pride you had. Just think, okay?"

She ran a hand over her face.

"There's so much more I want to share, but I know you've grown tired of me rambling, so I'm gonna go get Bee out of the forge and then I'm gonna teach you how to turn on the ship in case we get a bad case of Republic idiots coming in. Understood?"

Roger's face went blank with gaping eyes, completely mute as Esther told him what had happened and poured out so much of herself. His own tears had stopped midway due to the shock that his him hard and utterly. Of course she didn't want things to go back to the way they were. Who would after experiencing so much? Yet the moment he'd reunited with her, all he'd done was talk about the past. All he'd served to do was reminder her of the life she'd escaped from. He was sure even just being around her made those memories rear their ugly heads; especially considering he still wore the armor and uniform of the Republic Navy.

His mind went back to that bastard she'd mentioned that had taken so much from her, so much that the Republic had taken from her and here he was, brandishing all what they appeared to be right in front of her. He'd struck her... He was practically that fucking soldier now. His mind would continue to spin and spiral with rage inducing self loathing thoughts like this one until he calmed down almost abruptly as something had occurred to him. He drew his machete and without warning began to cut away the straps that held together most of the armored uniform he was wearing.

With a few grunts and cuts, he stripped all the pieces that were clearly Republic Navy issued and tossed them to the side like trash leaving him in a worn gray undershirt, cargo pants, the black combat boots, gloves, and belt. His bare now exposed arms revealed numerous stab and slash scars he's received from the Republic's harsh training but one seemed to stand out among the rest. A burn scar in the vague shape of a hand that was on his right shoulder. Barely visible within the scar was a faded series of numbers: 102432. The man stood up straight resheathing his weapon before finally responding to Esther.

"Yes ma'am." were the only words he could say. The Republic had taken away his pride long ago it seemed.

"Good." Esther's voice was low but she knew he could hear her. The atmosphere was dead silent. Her eyes traveled over the scars on his bare arms, silence accompanying her gaze. Esther's lips quivered at the numbers on his arm and the burn, but she didn't cry. She stepped forward and reached out, hesitant to touch the scar. She gently placed her hand on the scar, vision blurry, and squeezed his arm, a gesture that everything was alright.

Esther wrapped her arms around his back and leaned her head against his chest. They stood there for a few minutes and Esther took a deep breath, happy that she could just be like this, even if only for a little bit. "We can talk more later on tonight, if you want," she whispered. "I know you have something you want to share too." She gave him a tight hug and glanced up at Roger, a smile on her face; a mixture of happiness and sadness. "I'll be right back."

Roger was ready and willing to truly let go of the past and move towards the future and appreciate the here and now with Esy rather than what use to be. He had stood motionless as she touched his scar as it didn't hurt like it use to on the day he'd left the Republic ranks. When she wrapped her arms around him he could only return the hug with a gentle embrace of his own. His head bent down slightly to see the top of her hair while her face was buried in his chest. He nodded to her words but spoke up. "I should probably return to the deck for now though so when you're done with Bee you can find me up there."

He returned her smile with one of his own before retrieving his arc pack & rifle. A small book on the couch, burnt a little, caught his eye and he grabbed it. Roger smirked, "I should return this to Esy... after I give it a quick read." He returned to his previous overwatch position on the ship's deck, reading material in hand to pass the time.

 

[Mundane Monster]

"Treasure. Treasure. Trash."

"Trash, tr--No wait that was treasure." Bee wiped beads of sweat from her brow as she picked through the trash heap, muttering 'trash' when she came upon the stuff that belonged in the heap, then comically slurring 'treasure' when she found more of Esther's 'trinkets'. She'd been at this ridiculous task for too long in her opinion and she was starting to feel sick. Not because of musty air or anything but because this task was so repetitive she could practically feel her brains leaking out and pooling on the floor. She needed some fresh air before she just dumped everything in forge's fire, Esther be danged. Speaking of the engineer--Bee steeled her facial expression into an indifferent one when the red head entered the room. She refused to let Esther see how much this task angered her. Tasks that forced you to learn lessons were the worst, mainly cause they were like being in school already. And Bee had already graduated--kind of--so she shouldn't have to do this!!

"Bee. You're relieved of duty in the forge. Get out of here." The woman said gruffly and Bee was so ecstatically thrilled that she couldn't bring herself to ask why the woman seemed surlier than usual and just skirted around her and out the door.

Freedom! Bee's mind screamed as she raced down the halls. She'd run so fast she'd neglected to see if Esther actually wanted her to do anything, but she didn't head back. Mainly because she wanted a break but also because her stomach was screaming at her. She hadn't realized it back in the forge, but she was really hungry and she knew exactly what she wanted.

"A sandwich." She said to herself, drool collecting at the corners of her mouth. "With meat, and lettuce of course because who eats sandwiches without lettuce? Oh! And cheese! And mustard--Or horseradish, I wonder if there's any of th--Meow

Huh? Bee slowed her pace and stared down the hall in confusion. "What was--Mew. This time, Bee stopped completely and looked about wildly. She nearly screamed with joy when she saw what was behind her. It was a cat. A BEAUTIFUL CAT!--Who looked a tad startled by Bee's almost scream, so Bee got down on her hands and knees slowly and stretched a hand towards the glorious creature, who gave her a tentative sniff before nuzzling her. "Oh my gosh, I love you so much." Bee whispered, briefly wondering why there was a cat on an airship but then remembered that Esther had mentioned something about cat hair yesterday and figured the cat was apart of the crew. The merchant ship that she had hitch a ride from had had cats too but those hadn't been nearly as fluffy or friendly.

"Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I'm gonna make a sandwich and I can make you a sandwich! Do cats eat sandwiches? Heh. Catwiches?" Bee snickered at her own joke and stood up, the cat blinked at her once but when Bee started walking, the cat turned the other way and trotted off. Bee pouted but made a mental note to find the cat later and give her the promised 'catwich'.

When she got to the kitchen, she began rummaging through the cabinets and various containers trying to locate her ingredients. In the end she managed to get an alternative version of the sandwich she had imagined, but a sandwich all the same. Placing the finished product on the middle of the preparation table, Bee cut it diagonally into two triangles. Then diagonally again so that it was four mini triangles. Wrapping one up to give the cat later, Bee then bit into her creation and groaned with happiness. "Shoo goood!" She said, with her mouth full. "I wreally put my foot in ish." She said to herself.