"what if I told you I feel like I know you, but we've never met."
"come on now Sailor, you know I can't refuse a dance with you."
"i have a knife to your throat Sturmond, start talking."
They didn't know her name, just her flag and the gr...
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Waking up with a groan Sailor grunts. Her eyelids feel heavy and brain is throbbing. Rolling out of her hammock she goes to stands, feeling like lead lines her bones. Cursing herself and every whisky maker she can think of she moves toward her desk. Grabbing a purple vial she downs the liquid with a grimace. Something she made years ago as a hangover cure, she always kept many at hand. Not realizing she brought her blanket with her, Sailor turns around, the glass window with a wooden bench across it calling to her. Taking a seat she stares out the window.
Down here there was a certain sense of freedom and enlightenment she's never found in a church. Watching the seaweed, coral, and all the wildlife swim past she can't help but grin. If she never did anything else in life, she did this. Rubbing a hand over her eyes she watches a fish swim in front of the ship, it's colours matching perfectly with it's environment. By the vegetation and shades around her she can tell they're in Ravkan sea's. The closest dock near the fold was probably Os Kervo, that's where they were going to head. Where many were probably trying to flee, not wanting to live in fear anymore.
Despite being Ravkan, Sailor didn't much love her home country, perhaps maybe the politics of it. But she knows that this was beyond politics, the least she could do was try and help someone out of the darkness.
Feeling her hangover cure start to sink in she walks over to her mirror, she didn't look amazing. Her auburn hair and green eyes staring back at her, bags circling her eyes. Changing into a shirt and pants she starts to lace up her shirt, her rose and dagger tattoo on her sternum hiding beneath the cotton. Placing her armor over her head and then tying it in the back, similar to an apron. It hangs small threads of metal over her legs, swaying when she walks. It was designed after old chainmail Sailor saw in story books as a child, modified to her of course. Tying up her boots she leaves her captains quarters.
Up on deck, Zara and Varia are at the wheel discussing something that seems serious, but Sailor has learned that Varia being Fjerdan made her just look more serious anyways. Walking up to the two of them she listens to their conversation.
"I think we should be at least near the cliffs before we emerge." Varia argues more than suggests.
Zara taps her foot, mulling it over. "We would be deeper then, further from shore, and we want to reach the docks as soon as possible."
"But it will be more of a issue to get the fog raised if we're closer to shore. If we do it near the cliffs we have more grace to rise from below, settle the air pressure, raise the sails." Varia makes her point very clear.
In a quick moment both women turn to Sailor, seeking her approval. "What do you think, Sailor." Zara crosses her arms over her chest.
"You both make great points, but Varia might be right Zara. I imagine there will be other ships nearby and we don't need suspicions raised this late in the game. We need the extra time and cover that comes with being near the cliffs. It won't add as much time as you think it will." Sailor puts her hand on the girls shoulder.
