Welcome to Gaia! ::

The going was smooth and Cain was having a hard time resisting the urge to punch the throttle right out of the docks. He wasn’t entirely sure why’d he had decided to take it easy this time. A few reasons drifted in and out between his ears and he would try to fit them in place but nothing worked. He could say it was for the Scholar but he’d already traumatized the kid…man…thing enough. He could say it was for all the hungover bastards on board but he usually made things worse for them on purpose simply for his own kicks. Flying occupied the majority of his entertainment, next to nudity, but watching a bunch of sick folk stumble about on deck and shove their heads overboard was like comedy to him. Seeing Belo do just that made him howl with laughter. “Doesn’t taste so good a second time, do it?!” he called from the helm. He was going to get a swift kick for that one later. Actually a second one as he recalled his earlier comment.

He pulled his compass out of his pocket and set it on the ground at his feet to hold it steady. The needle jolted for a bit before landing somewhere between North and West. Someone had mentioned what direction he was supposed to be going but that had been a day or two ago or earlier this morning. For some reason, he thought they had mentioned due southwest. Cain grinned and gripped the wheel tighter. “LEFT TURN!” he shouted before pulling hard. The Ardent groaned slightly as the ship jerked to the left. Tight turns weren’t meant for big vessels and even the Ardent had a bit of trouble keeping up but it made the sharp turn fluidly, arching across the sky. Righting the wheel and steadying the ship, Cain glanced down at his compass and chuckled. Southwest. His internal compass was probably one of the few traits that let him keep his job. He really didn’t need one but after the technicians “complained” and tried to get him “fired,” Cain kept one nearby so he could at least check. Not that it was needed. He was good enough without it.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Cain watched as the city of Cann disappeared into the clouds behind him. Turning back around, he gripped the throttle and pushed the lever forward. He could hear the roar of the engines as they spurred to life and sent the ship barreling forward along the skyline. Cain let out a long whistle and pumped his fist in the air. “O yeah, that’s the way to purr, sweetie!” he cried to the ship. “Woo yeah!” What could only be described as very deep giggles rolled off of him and a toothy grin settled on his scruffy chin.

The air whipping through his hair got colder, more biting, after he kicked up the speed. It could definitely feel the oncoming of winter in this area and it was waking him up something awful. He loved the scent of it. The tangy, salty sea smell mixed with the clean smell of the clouds overhead. He tried his hardest to stay out of the clouds because they got everything soaking wet when he plowed through them. He didn’t feel like washing his uniform just yet and it was a bit too chilly to douse the ship and crew in some suspended water so he kept the Ardent below the cloud level. The bonus was the view of watching as the clouds whipped by over his head. He actually had to pull his head back down before he tilted himself backwards. He started off looking forward, completely focused, before turning his head to watch the ocean water in the distance. Cain’s eyes rolled up into his head slightly and his grin fell into a lazy, dumbstruck smile. He hung off of the wheel but the ship flew straight and steady even if he wasn’t paying close attention. Being surrounded by imaginated mermaids, scantily clad elves, and fine duds did that to a person. Yep, Cain was gone. Again. His head mechanically turned to face forward but his look was glazed and the only sign of life was the occasional giggle. O that strange, manly giggle.

_______A sneeze broke the silence of the lagoon. It threw his crown and set it askew on his head. The fur that lined his cloak had tickled his nose and he fought with it to try and get it away from his face. No such luck and another sneeze erupted from him. “O Master! You should really dress better for the weather!” a servant cried as she ran over. Her gold chainmail uniform, or as little to qualify for a uniform, clinked and rattled as she moved. Rubies were strung through her long brown hair and set in gold on her ears. Cain pulled her onto his lap, receiving a squeal of delight. Cas, the little elven girl, purred and nuzzled into his neck. “It’d be such a shame for you to fall ill and pass it along to me.”

_______“O yes, that would be a mighty shame,” he replied before giving her a squeeze. She yelped and giggled, cuddling up against him more. Water splashed up onto his feet from the lagoon, wetting the legs of his throne, when the surface rippled and broke. A group of faces appeared, a rainbow of colors and beautiful faces, and the mermaids wiggled up onto the dark rocks at his feet. Cain waved and nodded at the ladies. He reached out and twirled one’s vibrant teal hair around his finger.

_______“We heard so many things about you, Lord Cain,” a pink-haired mermaid said. Her chin was propped in her hands. Her tail swung and flicked water over his face. Cas quickly went about drying his chin as he laughed. So his reputation had already travelled underwater? He might actually have to fear it getting bigger than he could perform.

_______Lies and slander. He could always out-perform. “I will admit, I’m interested in trying a few things with you lovely ladies.”

_______“I’m interested in seeing what you can do,” a voice said to his left. Cain turned and smirked at the lone merman sprawled out just beyond his hand. He had short dark hair, bright blue eyes, and rippling muscles. Rem wiggled forward and began tracing circles around his ankle. “I’ll even let that maid of yours in on things.”

_______Cain chuckled and leaned down towards the merman, lusty-eyed and devious. “O please treat me.”

_______A jarring shriek nearly knocked Cain out of his seat. He twisted around and looked behind his throne at the woman stalking towards him. She was glaring at him, shouting nonsense in his direction, and swearing like a sailor. Her long, flowing pale hair and matching silk dress glowed in the moonlight and made the shrieking banshee seem more like an angel or a ghost. Cain kept his eyes on her as she circled around to the front of his throne and shoved Cas aside, taking her place straddling him. “Belo, sweetheart, why’re you mad at me now?” While he looked at her, he reached out and took Cas’s hand, pulling her back to his side. She obliged, lacing her fingers with his.

_______“I get so jealous when you start getting attention,” Belo whined. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and pouted. “I mean, I know you chose to marry me out of everyone that you could have but I still get so worried sometimes. It’s a curse having an Adonis of a man as a husband.”

_______“Don’t worry, I have enough love for all.” Belo smiled and kissed him, her metal hand roaming god knows where. The throne had widened at some point to let Cas climb back on and kiss along his neck and shoulder while Rem pulled himself up onto his opposite armrest, letting Cain run his hand along his chest. The tail felt a bit strange, but he was too distracted to care right then.

_______“O God,” he groaned...

Cain jolted in his stance and had to steady the wheel as a result. The blood in his body rushed up from where it had been gathering to his head and he floundered. What the hell was that?! A hand went up and covered his face as he stared ahead in personal shame, his face all the way to his ears a deep shade of red. His own imagination had molested his mind and he didn’t even get the chance to scavenge the decent pieces of the dream. “Well s**t,” he muttered to himself as he looked ahead and put his focus on his actual job. He hadn’t lost direction or speed while he’d been out of it, he hardly ever did. Hopefully no one would notice.

Lord save him, he needed a good lay soon if things kept going along this way. How long till they landed? Too long. He grumbled profanities to himself and pushed the throttle a bit higher. “Coffee musta been bad.” Dragging his hand down his face, Cain wondered how he could purge himself of the images. He'd had a four-way with Cas, Belo, and the scientist kid who's name escaped him yet again. Some deity was laughing his a** off at Cain's misery right then.

Passive mention of their ultimate goal failed in coaxing Colt from his vacant roll over the drab scenery. Planks, bed, trunk, desk. Dull as dust bunnies and they'd be suffering whole days of doing little more than staring down the walls in hopes a rat or some other living being that wouldn't place their cause at risk might scurry in. About the only thing that the note of that target mineral inspired his imagination to scale was the possibilities to improve wherever their next living quarters would be with as many distractions as they were willing to afford. He could already tell he would be desperate in more ways than one by the end of this ballsy enterprise.

Now, though sentiments were alloyed closely with his brother's reproof of idle chatter, there was that rebellious glimmer that strove to contest; what sense was there in putting on an act with no intention of any witnessing all the fine-tuning of your facade to make it convincing? Not to say the mirror of the other male had any intention of bidding any unnecessary attention their way. Enough wisdom had been measured to him along with a fuel of self-preservation and greed to keep him from anything too asinine or brazen, but it had to be said that he was not looking forward to spending the duration of the voyage spent in near social isolation from all but the one plopped on the mattress. Unless they were lucky, drunk or the feminine gender populating the aerial vessel were ready to lift their skirts with as little encouragement as a proper amorous glance shot their way, the silent b*****d type sure wasn't going to be gaining them any ground. Ol' Jedt could always claim some form of dementia had befallen him to excuse any variation in his behavior, though that cycled right back to what should have been their primary objective of lying low. Herein lied the disappointing sides of an extended con, at least one with qualifications so exact as to keep curtains from stirring to so much as allow a glimpse of the backstage. The magic of the production wouldn't be the only thing they'd lose if they were figured out, and Colt, in agreement with his partner in crime, was not about to put them in the direct line of fire if the option to slip under the radar was there.

Reflexive brace of tendons stuck his position as the ship lurched, blood rushing as that sense of both altitude and momentum climbing revved his cardinal engine. Outside, unchanged, worn leather skin pressing to the pillar to push him from his reliance upon it then both palms rose to grasp dusk waves, giving them a tug to tighten his short ponytail. "Right-o, buck. I'll get real cozy wi'em." Unenthusiastic, but not without the cheeky grin characteristically splitting his bronzed features. An about-face, the door was opened, a listless flick of his wrist over his shoulder the closest Liroy was getting to a wave. "Be back when it gets stale. Knit or somethin' t'keep yourself occupied."

Back down what would soon be an all too familiar scene, steps were retraced soundlessly for the most part as he recalled the path he took to get down to the living quarters. Now, if rumors set him straight, there were plenty of respectable canons on this rig, though his real interest was pricked at those fuzzy images none seemed capable of coughing up a decent description of. Whatever they were, the little rat had adequate understand to discern that your run of the mill artillery wasn't what kept this bird in the sky, nor gave it the glistening reputation that made its orbit about the ports. Temptation to exceed his boundaries and scope the vessel for those enticing toys would what he'd be fighting the entire trip, and he knew it. Maybe he would get lucky and something in those restricted areas would break down and the crew would need a hand; that or he would just sneak in while the smoke, sparks and frantic energies flooded the atmosphere.

Deviation of his attention spanned some time as he wandered his way back up flights to the top deck, a varied euphonic air pushed through puckered lips along the way. May as well start with surveying the top and working it way down until he was either called off for other obligations, halted and forbidden to go further or some other glinting captivated his focus. Whistling arched to a high and blithe note as those last stairs were climbed, the brine and bristling gales the welcome wagon along with... his nose being turned into a sanguine fountain.

Though the pilot may have been so kind to bellow out a warning for the port veer, if any would consider it as such, Colt hadn't the reaction time when emerging from his closed world of though for a reaction that might have saved him. Not even a stumble, just mercilessly flung to the side, face right into the wall. There were worse experience of discomfort and sobering jolts stored in the man's memory banks, but this certainly did a fine job of sending nerves into a flaming panic, routing urgent signals of pain to to his brain. Something that quickly subsided once the ship began to level out and the pressures of the incline weren't so strong. Still pressed to the wooden surface, a tinted, obnoxious chortle spilled from his mouth, amused and slightly agonized simultaneous.

"Heeeeell," Oh, that did not feel lovely in the least, contrary to his seemingly tickled response. Peeling himself back, fingers were ran below his nose and then held out to observe as he straighten himself out. No scarlet strains. Good deal. Now here was hoping there'd be no swelling, otherwise Liroy was getting a fist pumped into his schnoz that night. Slightly disoriented, steps were shuffled back and forth a bit before he swiveled about, jasper dropping to the planks at his feet. There it was. Volume and intensity of his eruption had dropped significant, now a subsiding snicker hissed as he bent to retrieve his black hat from the ground where it had toppled off his crown. Quick twists of his skull were made, dusting the headgear as he established his gait to proceed with his meandering out onto the deck. About then was when the other two present were noted as he sauntered his merry way toward the line of canons along the edges.

Booze 'n' boobs 'nd.... What'd they say the pretty one's name was? Captain.. F... Somethin' with an F.

"Bet the b*****d gets some kicks out'a that, yeh?" Footinbra! ... No, that was just the twins' impulsive, lack-decency response upon first hearing it. What it had actually been before their bastardization, Colt could not recall to save his life. Best just stick to "Cap'm'" and "Yessir." And along came Booze 'n' Boobs (Bibi, maybe?), with the... guardrail in her hand..? The grin he wore remained, though the humor was now diluted to something pale and perhaps a taken aback by what exactly the pieces of the scene were coming together to tell him. Right on through, the innate was on her skippy way off the deck to elsewhere, and he kept right on with his befuddled grin. She just tore off a chunk of the guardrail, right? Right. Okay then! So far, this ship was filled with every type of woman you were afraid to unbuckle your belt around. The song did not ring out too happy thus far.

What her kind called the stench of magic was not a stench at all, really. It was a sometimes pleasant mix of feelings, a taste in your mouth, a shiver along your spine. As Cas descended the stairs to the deck, she felt the bitter, sickening taste, the shiver, the disgust, and all of it pointed directly to her left. She glanced over her shoulder at Belo, the beast of a girl who was using her god given tricks as if they were toys. Cas took a deep breath, her hand on the blade resting at her side. She had come down here to do something, something productive, whether it be showing the scientist his place or threatening to cut the First Mate didn’t much matter to her. She was embarrassed, angry, and in a bad mood. Someone had to pay for that.

Lucky for Belo, Cas’ focus was elsewhere. The scientist boy was nowhere to be seen, probably below deck, and that left the First Mate as the scapegoat for all the pent-up anger she was feeling. He was still looking a little pale from his encounter with the Captain. Good. If that had scared him, what she was about to do might just make him s**t himself. A grin quirked her lips. Good plan.

She wasn’t a cruel woman. On a normal occasion she took no pleasure in the pain of others, but would cause it if necessary. But Tallow Vance was an unlucky man, unlucky enough to have given her a reason to be. And while Cas would later feel a twinge of guilt for the man’s broken pride and parts, she couldn’t help but experience the rush that came from doing exactly what her kin were designed to be: dead sexy attack poodles.

The elf made the three steps it took to come upon the First Mate, the grin twisted and sly. She looked up at the man, who seemed surprised at her sudden presence. Her grin widened. Slowly, so slowly, she took a half step forward, close to the man. His eyes widened as she dug the metal heel of her boot into his, grinding it into the soft, plush flesh of his foot. Crunch. And the grin grew even wider. Her small hand slipped into her pouch, drawing out a thin knife, and she drew her arm around him as if in embrace, holding the blade to his back.

“The Captain may be merciful, but the first chance I get I’m throwing you overboard, Tallow.” She winked and patted his chest, gathering her skirts and gone as quickly as she had come.

“Cas, come here.” Her mother motioned the girl over with her finger, drawing the girl in though she wanted nothing more than to stay away from the two men. Onewas tall, and frightening, nothing like the elven men she had known as brothers. Compared to this godschild, even her father seemed tiny and weak. The other was nearly as tall, and was watching her very quietly, beads of sweat breaking out on his face.

She approached slowly, eyes wide. The second was grinning, he was very happy about something and she knew exactly what. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, herself. Embarrassed from the meeting of eyes, she looked down, only happening to spy the strange glittering things which hung from each of their hips. Her eyes grew more round, and she sped up, leaning forward not to embrace the man to be her lover but to touch the metal object.

“Ah!” he said, starting slightly in surprise and looking down. “What are—ah, I see you like my revolver.” The man grinned and pulled it out, and her eyes grew rounder still in wonder. She had never seen something like this.

“What does it do?” she asked, running her fingertips over it. Her mother was on edge, glancing between the two.

The man chuckled. “It kills, of course. Don’t they teach you any sort of self-defense here?” Her mother winced at that, and exchanged a glance with one of the other women. Even in her worried state, she couldn’t help but appreciate the irony. He leaned forward, obviously very proud of the thing. It was beautiful, a work of art, in more ways than she would know just then. “It’s a new technology, sure, but most soldiers these days use one in addition to the usual blade or bow. It’s very deadly, more than what they have back west. You see, there’s a sort of explosion here,” he said, pointing, “and it propels a bullet out of here, which can kill someone real easy.”

Cas was enamored with it. She wasn’t any good with a bow, rather slow in fact and the last in her class. A shame, considering her mother was one of the finest assassins the city had known. Or not known, rather. Cas had some vague awareness of what a gun was, that they were weapons of heathens and that her kind would have no part in their use. It must have been driving her mother mad to even see one, she thought, glancing up at her. She was right.

“Can I have it?”

“Cas!” Her mother protested.

But the man shook his head and laughed again. “This cost me an arm and a leg. Besides, a pretty lass like yourself wouldn’t have any use for it.”

Cas couldn’t believe it, but she was actually starting to miss Cain’s sadistic piloting methods. She’d wandered back and forth across the ship, snapping at anyone unlucky enough to get in her way, including the scientist, Cain, and the poor b*****d of a First Mate again. She was on edge for more than one reason, though voicing one of them, even in her mind, might just make things worse. Anger dulled the feelings, pushed them back, and she was happy to oblige.

After too many boring hours, night had finally arrived and the call for dinner went out. Cas had found herself lounging on the deck, laying down with her palms under her head. The clouds hadn’t the tiniest bit of interest for her but at least it was a change from watching the sea or maintaining her guns. She could only do so much of the latter before they started wearing down. Slowly the elf got to her feet, dusting herself off and rearranging her many layers of skirts. Casting a glance around the deck, she hopped down the stairs and made her way into the dining hall, where the meals for the ship’s primary crew had just been set out. She smiled the tiniest of smiles and sat in her usual spot, nodding to those already seated. Except, there were too many chairs. Two extra. The scientist and…?

Her smile faded. Oh, yes. The so-called gunman who thought he could take her spot. It was too bad she hadn’t thought to poison his drink with laxatives earlier. Ah well, there was always tomorrow night, she thought, biting into a cherry and closing her eyes with a sigh.

Aleta stayed below in the engine room a little while longer after take off, just to be sure that everything was running smoothly. She had been pleasantly surprised when the Ardent moved smoothly and slowly away from the docks. And she wasn’t the only one, most of the men with her had braced themselves for a wild take off that never even came. It appeared as though Cain had actually listened to her for once! She was so proud, maybe next time he needed medical attention she wouldn’t take a painfully long time trying to draw blood. Those damn veins could be just so darn tricky sometimes….not really. She just liked to poke Cain relentlessly with needles. The one person you didn’t want to get on your bad side was the ships doctor. It Cas or Belo injured or...well blew you up during a fit of rage, then it was Aleta who put you back together. In a way your life was held in the palm of her capable sadistic little hands. Although just as Aleta was thinking smooth sailing was ahead, the b*****d pilot up above made a sharp turn. That was what she got for assuming Cain was going to take it easy on the ship for once in his miserable life. Unfortunately the poor girl was caught off guard. Her body swayed as she was knocked off balance, and she instinctively reached out for something to catch herself before she fell to the ground and embarrassed herself in front of the men that were present. However humiliation seemed inevitable, because what Aleta reached out to balance herself with was the scorching surface of one of the operating furnaces. A very angry cry ripped through the halls that led to the engine room, followed by thunderous cursing. By just the language alone, one might have mistaken the source as being the abrasive Innate aboard the ship.


Aleta hissed thru her teeth as she grabbed her throbbing hand. Her skin was rosy, showing signs of minor burns. It wasn’t anything serious but it still hurt like mother ******** hell. And then to make matters worse the engines roared as Cain accelerated rapidly. Aleta probably would have fallen backwards had one of the engineers not grabbed her. Goddamn s**t for brains Cain! Aleta swore to everything holy that she was going to drug him and use him as a test dummy for surgeries. He was going to wake up one day without a kidney, maybe half a liver, no teeth, feet for hands and hands for feet, and to top it off a goddamn v****a!! After Aleta got her footing back she just swore under her breath. “Doesn’t he realize that there are enough people to hate in the world already, without him having to put in so much effort to give us another!?!” she asked no one in particular. However she already knew that the other engineers agreed. They were defiantly not apart of Cain’s insignificant fan base. “Tch…I’ma gonna go take care of this” Aleta said, motioning to her burned hand. And with that, the fuming red head stalked out of the room. They had just taken off, and already she wanted to murder that gobshite of a pilot! Oh boy, this was going to be such a bloody pleasant trip. The engine room wasn’t terribly far from her quarters thankfully. Being the doctor, her room was connected to the small clinic. That way if anything was amiss they didn’t have to go far to summon her for help. The clinic consisted of a few spare cots as well as an examination room that was also used for surgeries and any other sort of procedures. It wasn’t large, but it was adequate and enough for Aleta to keep the crew healthy.


The Doc sighed as she shouldered the door to the treatment center open. It was quaint looking, and wasn’t blindingly clean and white like most hospital settings. Aleta walked past the examining table that sat in the center and moved towards the cabinets that lined the back wall. It took her only second to locate the bandages that she needed. She knew this place inside and out, probably because she had spent a lot of her earlier days here…learning.

“Why did’ja bring me here?” the lanky red headed teen asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. It smelled funny and there were always sick men tossing and turning on beds in just the other room. The gruff looking man standing behind the girl put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to move further into the sterile clinic. “You said that you wanted more responsibilities didn’t you?” he asked the kid quizzically. The girl just looked over her shoulder, frowning unhappily….”This isn’t what I meant! I can fix anything on this ship better then half the men here so why stick me here of all places!! ” she complained. All she had wanted was more work to do around the ship…of the repairing variety! However she was one of many mechanics aboard the Ardent and things didn’t break nearly enough to keep her occupied. And being young and restless, the girl got bored easily.

“Don’t look at me like that” the older man chided as he looked at the freckled girls grimace. “Just hear me out….engineers come and go, they are vital…but easily replaced on a ship. A doctor on the other hand is hard to come by.” He tried to explain. However the girl was stubborn and was failing to see his reasoning. She just crossed her arms over her chest and looked like she was ready to lash out. “I’m failin’ to see yer point Old Man!” God she was such a pain in his a**. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to fight back the migraine that she was causing him. “ You want to be someone important don’t’cha!” he blurted out “ learning medicine will cement your place on the Ardent until the day you die…and any spare time you have can be spent fiddling with whatever needs fixin’” Honestly the man just wanted the girl out of his hair for an hour or two. Plus the present Doc was past his prime, it was probably about time he start passing his knowledge on to someone. Besides the man could probably keep the girl in line…seeing as old Doc Winchester was about as difficult as the Kilkenny girl herself. “So…what do you say?” he asked, watching as the girl just moved her green eyes around the room. He could tell she was mulling it over in her head.

“Fine…I’ll do it”

Aleta held her hand under the faucet of the sink and was letting the icy water run over it. It soothed her skin and helped numb the pain somewhat. As she tended to her burn, she felt her belly groan. It rumbled and tumbled, trying to tell Aleta to hurry and finish what she was doing. She had been so mad at Cain that she didn’t realize how hungry she actually was…or even what time it was. She glanced at the clock that hung on the wall and cursed under her breath. Everyone would be gathering in the dining hall by now, and if she didn’t get down there soon all the food would probably be gone. And Aleta couldn’t have that happening. She may be a small girl, but she ate enough for five men. She quickly finished bandaging her hand and without wasting another minute she left the room and made a dash for the dining hall. Hell would freeze over before she gave Cain the chance to get first dibs on the grub! Her boots clunked nosily on the wooden floors as she approached, probably alerting everyone of her impending arrival. “Gah, I’m so hungry I think meh stomach is trying to ingest itself!” Aleta announced as the door of the galley swung open to reveal the spirited red head. Cas was already present, in all her indifferent glory. And the Captain was already seated at the head of the table, it seemed as though she was not as late as she initially thought. So she quickly grabbed a plate off the shelf and settled into her usual seat, eager to start stuffing her face.

The sorely-needed nap improved her mood immensely. Belo found that she even possessed the indifference to endure their typically unsavory nightly meals. She'd abandoned her cap and goggles to the condensed pile of belongings that now closely resembled a nest and had shed a majority of her outer wear, instead donning a clean-ish white blouse and gray tweed vest. She wriggled the mechanical digits into a black leather glove as she customarily did when a non combative group scenario arose. It was not that she chose to conceal the unnatural limb for the benefit of her crew, but rather to avert the myriad of stares it drew. Cain had the occasional snide remark, but those were easily brushed away. Their scientist was the main motivation for her choice of wardrobe. He often cast her glances she might have classified as lustful had they not been purely spurred by the desire to take her apart, spin a gear or two and attach electrodes to her eyeballs. Or whatever it was these educated types sought to do with blunders of nature such as herself. Cas exuded obvious loathing of the whole package and there was nothing to be done about that aside from stoking the fires and shrugging off the verbals barbs the high-strung elf spewed incessantly.

Tonight, however, was a careless night. She secured the door behind her and made the short trek to the galley where the other employees of fortune would be waiting with less-than-eager faces. She breached the threshold just behind the ginger doctor and looked up to find Cas shooting her a look of pure abhorrence. She arched an amused brow before taking her seat across the table from their resident assassin, offering a close-lipped, seemingly good-natured smile. The tiny creature wasted so much energy detesting Belo and really, she couldn't return the sentiment with the same fervor at all. At its worst, the feeling manifested as annoyance.

Belo offered a curt nod to their captain as she slipped into her chair, craning around to snatch a plate from the cupboard. Oh, the captain was a hoity-toity specimen indeed, not unlike those detailed in stories of old. They were valiant, enigmatic beings bearing stony guises and sheltering bleeding hearts. Ole Cap'n Fort was no exception. He had the air of a man who'd buckled much swash and anticipated many more encounters of the most perilous nature. Of course the hard bound book of life taught her that men were fallible and imperfect so the image of the stalwart captain had tarnished in her mind, but Fortinbras certainly was a novelty to behold.

Now the unfortunate fact of the meal was that the best had been laid out before them. Belo had never allowed herself fruity morsels in the past and didn't plan on making a habit of it. She eyed the more exotic offerings with some suspicion, unsure as to whether or not they warranted a taste. A cautious hand reached for a banana, one of the more nonthreatening choices among the present cornucopia. She leaned back as she peeled it, resisting the urge to prop her boots up on the table as she did so. The night was still young and she hadn't struck the proper nerves yet for that to be appropriate. Perhaps once the china started flying her way, she'd give it ago. Until then, she'd just have to cross her fingers and hope someone burst into a fit of rage and started hurling cutlery into the pineapples.

She'd bide her time until then and wait for someone else to start a promising bout of strained dinner table conversation. Belo wasn't about to start inquiring as to the state of everyone's constitutions. No, leave that duty to the ones actually enjoying this pleasure cruise. Unless...

A damn fine banana, this... Damn fine. A smirk teased her lips as the mischievous thought took shape. It wouldn't be in earnest and of course was out of character, but... oh, life was one big Tuesday and sorely lacking the shits and giggles required to render life palatable. "So how was everyone's daaaaay?" she said with the best feigned interest she could muster as she addressed the whole... four of them, then helped herself to another bite of banana.

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The sudden appearance of a floating piece of wood pulled Cain’s attention away from what he was supposed to be doing, steering. It fell into his lap and he looked at it curiously. It was a donkey. A rather poorly done donkey at that, kind of a hack-rush-job. He smirked and moved to pick it up when the damn thing burst into flame. Cain leapt up and sidestepped it, waiting long after the fire vanished. He didn’t even move until he felt it wouldn’t burst into flame again to right a “Jack” in front of the charred and smoking “a**.” When he felt safe, Cain bent over, one hand on the wheel, and picked it up. That was not natural so it had to be either Belo or the short, smart kid. He would seriously need to learn his name one day. Cain turned it over and slowly began to laugh aloud. It had to be Belo. He hadn’t done anything remotely bad to the kid today. Hell, he hadn’t done anything that bad to Belo but she’d been stone-dead hungover this morning and her patience had probably long since reached its maximum quota for the day. This, however, was unexpected. He had never seen her use any type of magic before. For awhile, Cain actually doubted she could do anything but spit and sleep. It seemed so.

Time passed and one of the other pilots came up to take over. Cain asked him what he was doing and the kid pointed towards the horizon. That was when he noticed the sun had started setting. When did that happen? Reluctantly, he gave up the wheel to the co-pilot, pocketed his compass, and headed down towards his room. He could feel the Ardent slowing bit by bit as he walked. None of the back-up pilots liked flying so fast. It irked him but he had to deal with it because he’d never sleep otherwise. He liked sleep. A lot. It was a favorite past time of his. Along with flying and collecting the various things that had been thrown at him while on the crew. There was a shelf just above his bed where most of the prizes stayed and that was where he put the a**. He glanced at the bottle the captain had chucked at his head and resisted the urge to have some more. He didn’t need any. Maybe when Cas decided it was open season to hunt him he’d have at the contents of the bottle. He tugged off his goggles and tossed them onto his bed, massaging his face. The outline was faintly visible around his eyes. Shrugging on his coat, Cain turned and headed off towards dinner. He dug his hands into the pockets of the coat and wiggled his nose, trying to regain feeling. He hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. He must have lost feeling a couple of hours ago from all the wind hitting his face. One bonus to not having to do any of the night shifts, even if they were shorter. It got cold out there in the winter.

There were already people in the room when he walked in. Aleta was the first thing he heard and responded to. "Please, do me a favor and let it ingest itself." Cain grabbed a plate and filled it with food but he didn’t start eating, not yet. He decided to jump on what the new guy was saying instead, “I don’t think a flying fish would want to eat Belo’s arm. Not after where it’s been.” Then he tuned out. He filled a shoddy tin cup with something that looked promising and began gnawing on an apple. He took the first empty seat he came to smack next to Mr. I’m A Midget. God, what was his name?! Cain frowned as he tried to remember but the only thing he kept coming up with was fishtail. What the hell did a fishtail have to do with anything?

Cain was nursing a tin cup of unmentionable fluids when Belo had managed to grind out her first sentence to anyone, or so he assumed, since she’d boarded that morning. “Fine and dandy, Darling,” he responded nonchalantly and continued to drink. Somewhere at the back of his mind, gears had begun spinning and bringing separate thoughts into one. Cain wasn’t normally one to pay attention to his subconscious but the collision sent him spiraling and he proceeded to spit all over his plate and choke on what was left. His skin darkened slightly at the vile, combined thought and he quickly shoved his chair back. He brought his fist to his face as he tried to regain semi-normal breathing and to inconspicuously conceal his face. “I’m o—” a particularly nasty hacking, “o—okay,” he finally managed to spit out. His skin tone was getting lighter, most likely from the sudden lack of air, but he was happy he wasn’t blushing anymore. God, this was going to be hard to explain away. Hell, like he’d even try. If Belo didn’t assume he was mocking her like usual he would ignore her until she did. That always worked. Of course, he’d only tried it once but it had worked then so he was pretty damn sure it would work now.

He scooted away from the scientist kid, even more perturbed by how he had been imagined. “Soooooo,” he drawled as he tried to think of a way to save face. He could always go with pissing everyone off, although he rarely had to try to do that. Ah well, the best distractions were usually messy. “How many people kissed a wall today?” he inquired. That hard turn he’d done early hadn’t even phased him but he’d heard among some of the youngins in the crew that to fly on the Ardent you didn’t need “sea legs” or whatever they called it nowadays, you needed “Aerodar legs.” He still didn’t know why they were so fond of that nickname. Cain started to muse and only jolted back to what was going on when he accidently put his hand in his food. “s**t,” he hissed and licked his fingers. He looked back up at the group. First person he looked at was Cas and more thoughts started connecting. He swallowed, forcing the pictures back down and pulling a smile out of his a**. He was still staring though. Goddamnit, he needed help. “Well, I’m having a great day,” he said with a laugh while forcibly turning his head to look elsewhere. Wood wall, safe ground. “Smooth sailing so far.”

Well it seemed as though she hadn’t been the only one to be caught off balance by Cain’s little maneuver. The whiz kid walked in with an impressive welt right smack dab in the middle of his forehead. It looked as though he was trying to hide the bump with his bangs, however the thing was just to huge. It jutted out like a fricken horn…it could be a second nose. Aleta actually had to stifle a little laugh when Cas bluntly pointed it out. Probably in an effort to embarrass the boy in front of everyone. However she was careful to catch herself and keep her chuckle quiet. Why? Well because he hadn’t been the only one to hurt himself. Aleta spared a small glance down at her lap where her burned hand rested gingerly on top of her legs. It still hurt but at least the pain had dulled a bit. Not wanting to be the butt of anyone’s joke Aleta was careful to keep her bandaged hand beneath the table and out of sight. If any of her crewmates caught a glimpse of it she would probably never hear the end of it. Aleta wasn’t exactly known to be the most graceful member of the Ardent crew. In fact she was such a klutz that some of the crew had even joked that she had the poise and reflexes of a drunken cat. And speaking of inebriation, Belo must have joined them at some point. By the time Aleta looked away from the Brain the woman had already settled in the seat across from Cas. Oh boy this was going to be an interesting dinner. The two were not exactly fond of each other. In fact Cas and the drunkard were already staring each other down. The Doc looked between the two of them, it probably wasn’t wise for them to be sitting across from one another. However Aleta didn’t say anything, mainly because this would probably provide some entertainment for the evening. Dinner and a show! There couldn’t be anything better.

"So how was everyone's daaaaay?" Belo drawled as she ate one of the bananas in the bunch that she had sitting in front of her. Although…they weren’t in her possession for very long. The minute Cas saw that Belo was enjoying her lovely potassium rich banana she just reached out and snatched the bushel away and out of the Innates reach. Aleta just snorted slightly, once again just trying to avoid bursting out in laughter. She was just waiting for something to blow up, or for someone to be shot at. Dinnertime was always so damn exciting. “ The day would have been better if it hadn’t started so early” Aleta muttered. Like most of the people here, she wasn’t to keen on having to get up early. If she had it her way, then she would still believe that 7 am was just a myth and that it didn’t really exist.

Aleta reached out and began to grab some grub. As more people showed up the slimmer the picking would become. Sure the food was good now, however that was only because they had just left port. The kitchen was fully stocked at the moment, although everyone knew that it wouldn’t last for too long. So she may as well enjoy the food while it was unspoiled. The plate in front of the Aleta was barely visible beneath all the food that had been compiled onto it. There was an almost childlike expression on her face as she looked lovingly at all the food. In fact she was so entrance by the smorgasbord she barely even noticed the new guy walk in and take a seat. He started talking about something weird like flying fish trying to eat Belo or something. Aleta didn’t really know, she had just sorta tuned everyone else out. Once she was satisfied with her abundance of fruits cheese and bread she just dove right in. The girl definitely had a healthy appetite, and absolutely no table manners to boot. She just started stuffing her mouth full of grapes until her cheeks were puffed out like some sort of starved squirrel. It was actually a rather grotesque yet comical sight. And it was at this time that Cain decided to make his late entrance. The minute he walked in Aleta seemed to just zero in on him. Green eyes narrowed as she glared daggers at the gigantic thorn in her backside. Honestly it was amazing that the Ardent hadn’t blown up or anything with the amount of animosity that the crew had for each other. But if looks alone could kill, then Cain would be a heaping mass of rotting flesh the moment he graced them with his presence.

"Please, do me a favor and let it ingest itself” was the first thing out of the giant baboons’ mouth. Aleta tried to mumble a comeback, but her mouth was too full to form any distinguishable words. She just watched with the most severe look of discontent as Cain grabbed a plate and settled happily into his seat. He went on to talk about how things were smooth sailing, how the day was just great, and how people were slamming into walls. That just made Aleta grimace, being reminded of her little fiasco in the engine room. Oh he was just so smug! She just glared at him as he stared off into space. He was always spacing out! What the hell went on in that tiny little brain of his. Well…since she could not form an insulting sentence to hit him with she did the next best thing she could think of. She spat a couple of the many grapes in her mouth across the table at him while he still looked distracted. She was careful to aim for his head. It was a bit childish, but hell it would make Aleta feel better. So she just smirked as she finished chewing the rest of her food.

With just one bullet to his head, she was free. But she knew it wouldn’t last. The sound would carry through the walls of the manor, and her sisters would be here soon. She had to act quickly. Cas pushed the bloodied, broken body off of her, lip curling in disgust, and let it roll off the bed with a dull thud. Gathering her discarded clothing, she peeked out the door to check if anyone was running towards her. Luckily it looked like she wouldn’t have to make a run for it in the nude. Hurriedly she dressed and just before slipping out the door glanced down at the man’s belongings. No cash. She didn’t need it. Shouts were echoing through the halls and she could hear the pounding of footsteps above her. Wasting no time, she dashed through the halls and into the lounge, where the exit of the manor stood clear as day. She’d made it.

“Cas, what are you—?” Her mother’s voice. She turned quickly, eyes wide, the man’s revolver in her hands. A gasp. Then a shout, as the matron called for soldiers and reached for the blade hidden in the wall. Cas didn’t waste any more time and burst through the double doors and into the grey drizzle of Cann. She needed a shop. Shivering and soaked to the bone already, she darted through the nearly empty street and into a jewelry store. Cas wasn’t sure whether it was the appearance of an elven woman or the gun pointed at his head, but the man gave her what she wanted without a fight. Gold tender. Glancing over her back all the while, spying the smallish, hooded group in the distance, she found her way to a gunsmith’s shop. She dropped the gold on the counter and leaned over, a smile on her lips. “What’s the best this’ll buy me?”

Again the shock seemed to work in her favor. He was gaping at her, reaching for her hair—elves didn’t exactly make themselves seen in the city—and after a while she gave up and reached for the finest, grandest firearm she could see: a well-decorated, gilded clockwork rifle that drew her in immediately. Fine, then. She left the gold on his counter, imagining no other use for it, and exited the door. Her first mistake. Pain sliced through her left thigh and she screamed, dropping to her knee. She’d been too slow. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she shouldn’t have loitered where they could see her. Cas didn’t think they’d really attack her out in public. She had gravely underestimated how important godchildren were to them—a forgivable mistake as she had never even met a god. Another arrow pierced her side. A moment later, the same leg. She had to get out of there, now, or she might be the shortest lived elf in history. What a way to be remembered. Groaning, she pulled herself up and pushed the almost crippling pain away. She had a limp now, a serious one. Cas could barely use her left leg. She glanced behind her to estimate their distance—maybe she could book it and pass out somewhere where she’d be taken in purely as a novelty. Good plan, she thought. They were a fair distance from her, but as she watched a surprisingly large crowd poured out of a building between them, probably a theater. Blocking their view of her and stopping them in their tracks. Cas closed her eyes and thanked the gods for favoring her, whatever their reasons.

Limping, no, dragging really, she made her way across the street, away from where they would look. Airships. Docks. Ropes tugging, engines purring, as foreign as sound as she had ever heard. The last place they’d ever look for her. Her vision was beginning to get blurry. She dropped to her knees again, trying to focus on some vague figure before her. Red hair, she thought, but couldn’t be sure, and a kind voice. Gloves, grasping her before she faded out completely.