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"Don't bother me while I'm working."

0 · 343 views · located in Nasvexia a steampunk universe

a character in “The Fleet Foot Pirates”, as played by AngelBell


Name: Aethyra
Nicknames: Aeya, Theery
Race: Elf
Age: Appears 19, and claims she is only 19. She refuses to speak about her true Elven age
Position You Will Fill: Engineer
Specialization: Singing
Themesong: "Lights" by Ellie Goulding
Appearance: Image Shoulder-length flame red hair and crystal blue eyes, she is slightly tanned and very small and slender, standing only 5 feet tall and weighing 87 pounds, though she is very curvy. Her legs and arms are covered in tattoos from her home clan. She wears flowy and short dresses, often times walking around bare foot and pulling a hood or bandana over her hair. She wears a silver cuff and wooden necklace from her homeland, and keeps a celestial dagger strapped to her hip. Her pointed ears are pierced, as is her left eyebrow. She has small, pink and pouty lips, and high sculpted cheekbones. Her face is rather pointed, almost imp-like.
Personality: Aethyra is loyal, strong and very superstitcious. She has been called a heartbreaker or a tease, though she seems to forget sometimes that she is female. She loves to tell stories of elven lore, stay up late tinkering with machines, and drink with the boys. She often sings when she is alone, and when frustrated, grumbles to herself in an ancient elven language. She is very comfortable with people, and will lean or lay on anyone she is friendly with. Quick-tempered, she will come to blows with anyone who upsets her, though she doesn't hold grudges.
History: Aethyra was raised among her clan that kept very true to ancient traditions. When she was 13, she left to live in the bigger cities among more humans, and started working at the airship yards, where she realized she had a knack for building and fixing the ships. She joined the Fleet Foot Pirates at 17, and has turned them into her family.

So begins...

Aethyra's Story

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Ah, Satan’s Serpent, the greatest constructed airship ever to bless the skies. A home to the broken souls and delinquents, shunned by society, who’s only saving grace is to cling to the fading glimmer of their dreams. Currently, the ship that will lead the crew to greatness is docked at the port of Noxia, where its assortment of unique crew members are individually preparing to set sail on an adventure into the stretches of uncharted sky, with the hopes of finding their Utopia. But one does not simply find a century lost city without a lead, and if it’s a rumor you seek, there is no better place in all of Nasvexia to find one than Noxia.

This shattered hub town hosts some of the skies most travelled and hardened sky-dogs. It isn’t uncommon to see, through a veil of smog, drunkards brawling on the broken cobblestone streets, or peddlers trying to smuggle knockoff trinkets, supposedly from the advanced city of Juriya. It can be a haven for those strong enough to bear the crudeness, or a hell for those whose hearts are too weak to handle the immoral city.

For a worn captain like Archer Bishop sights like these are but an everyday occurrence, not even worth a second glance.

Archer always kept his face hidden beneath his cloak whenever he visited Noxia. Maybe it was the fear of catching eye contact with someone larger than him, unlike many of his peers; he couldn’t stand the idea of confrontation. Maybe it was because he didn’t like sticking out like a dwarf among midgets. But most likely, Archer didn’t want to be recognized. Whatever the reason, it made him look like a suspicious character when he casually waltzed into the Gypsy’s Pride Inn, and took a seat in a dark corner booth.

The Gypsy’s Pride was known as a safe haven for pirates to exchange ideas and stories without judgement. To drink until the brink of total inebriation and be safely escorted into the one of the quaint rooms above the pub. If Archer had hoped to find any information about Utopia, it would be here, catching ear of a madman’s rant. Madmen, Archer had come to find, generally had more valuable knowledge than any person in their right wits. He wasn’t sure madmen were driven mad by their knowledge, or if they were merely sane men who had the title slapped onto them by skeptics. Regardless, their ramblings had been known to spark some of his greatest adventures.

It wasn’t long before someone had noticed Archer. In fact, his presence demanded the attention of the room when he had walked in, but the tavern wench was the first to actually acknowledge him. Setting a glass in front of him with a wink, she said, “Welcome traveler, may I get you something to drink or eat?

Archer waved the glass away, “No, thank you madam, it’s not what I am here for.”

“No,” she looked puzzled, “Then what about a room to stay?”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with another matter.”

The once sparkling smile on the waitresses face twisted into an offended glance, “Sir -”

Archer recognized the tenor in her voice. It was one that every woman from every stretch of life had in common. The nagging tone. Before she could gather too much momentum Archer interjected, “Do you have any information about the city of Utopia.”

The once vivid bustling of the table closest to him came to an abrupt stop. A large man leaned over the back of his seat giving Archer a baffled glance. He studied Archers face with skepticism, as though he couldn’t figure out if it were a joke at the waitress’s expense, or if the man he suspected to be a moron was actually being serious. When he found out it was the latter, he burst into a mocking laugher, “Utopia, you can’t be serious. That place is a myth. Even if it were true it’s supposed to have fallen into the Great Abyss, you’d never find it”

In perfect harmony and without fail the rest of the room fell first silent, then burst into a fit laughter. In a way, this response was suspected. While Archer sympathized with madmen for many reasons, this was the most pertinent. He could relate. In recent years, Archer had found himself becoming the bud of the joke for men too rational to pursue the legends, imprisoned by their own self-doubts. Some would even call him mad, and he couldn’t say he could disagree. Clearly, Archer wasn’t the first to inquire about the city of gold, but he intended to be the last. Still, in a way, he had hoped the rest of the crew was having better luck.

Archer didn’t anticipate that getting information from these fools would be easy.


“Satan’s Serpent set’s sail at dusk, I expect everything to be in order when I return.”

Archer’s words rang through the young hopeful, Aria’s, ears like an orchestra’s symphony. Beautifully, and clearly. Everything was becoming so real, so tangible. It was almost as though she could see the tips of Utopia’s towers (or she had assumed there would be towers, Archer was vague about the details) on the horizon. One thing she was sure of, it would be awe-inspiring.

Still, Aria wished she could have joined the crew. She’d never seen Noxia, and despite her objections, Archer refused to let her off the ship. Something about being too young or something. She really didn’t remember; Aria was blinded by her ambition.

Aria found herself humming a tune as she swayed the mop back and forth across the plated deck of the Satan’s Serpent. The movement was so fluid, so consistent, it was almost as if she was dancing with the mop. Normally, any of Aria’s movements were sluggish. If Archer had to rate her performance, she was a less than exceptional cabin boy – err – girl, but was worth having around, if only for her ability to light up the room with her hopeless optimism.

In fact, Aria was known to cause more harm than good. She was clutzy and uncoordinated, and usually ended up making things difficult for their engineer and her assistant. Like clockwork, and unbeknownst to her, she already had.

Now, Aria, wasn’t particularly dumb, so to speak. But something about her wasn’t quite there . She had a tendency to drift off into blissful ignorance at the most inconvenient times. It wasn’t until she was blasted in the face by the steam propelling from the massive mast that she noticed it. She had punctured a hole in something, somehow.

Aria panicked, fumbling backwards and tripping over her own bucket, “Aethyra.” She shrieked, much like a mating-call for a banshee.

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Aethyra stepped out onto the decks, a flask of alcohol in one hand, her pants in the other.

"You rang, dove?" she smirked at Aria, took a swig, and walked over to her, hood shielding a good bit of her face, though her eyes glowed through the shadow. Her thin gauzey dress rippled behind her as she walked, leaving next to nothing to the imagination, and her easy smile revealed that she'd been drinking already, though she wasn't drunk. Elven livers, she'd joke, human ale hardly affects me!

The grin fell from her face as soon as she saw the punctured steam pipe, and was replaced in an angry scowl. Throwing her pants and the dejected flask to the floor, she raced over and stared at it, whirling on the small girl.

"What have you done, you imbecile! How did you even MANAGE this?! I just repaired it last WEEK!" with a snarl and a roll of her eyes, she ran her fingers around the hole, ignoring the hot steam that burned her fingers. "Fetch me my kit, now, please." She couldn't stay mad at Aria, not for long; she was like a younger sister to everyone on the crew, and bumbling as she was, she had an adorable little smile.

"At least it wasn't Idiot tinkering again," she sighed, and shook her head, leaning against the pipe and stretching her legs out lazily. Noticing the girl still standing on the deck, she snapped and pointed below, "My kit, girl. Now."

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Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Aria Melbourne Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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"There." With a sigh, she threw her patching materials to the deck, and patted the steam vent, "That'll do nicely. Cap isn't going to be very pleased with you, Aria, but it's nothing life threatening. Now, don't...don't touch it. At all. OK?" And with a smile and mock salute, she swept away, singing softly to herself in her odd foreign language. Living with this many humans--no matter how many years it had been--took a tole on her. She was in her prime, supposed to be drinking and laughing, with a different man every night, until her true Aging ceremony. Instead, she was stuck babysitting small girls and patching engines, trying to keep Spider from blowing it up every other moment. Sure, Aria was an elf, but...Aethyra could only see her as a baby sister, not one to contend with, drink with and laugh with. Though Aria was smart, the two had never meshed all too well, the elder always scolding or redirecting the younger, trying to keep her out of trouble. She loved the small one, of course, but...

"Aethyra, Aethyra, what have you gotten yourself into, girl?" Her voice was loud enough, but not overly projective, and she pushed her hood from her face, revealing a sweaty and tired-but also pleased-grin. Lucas's familiar behind had scuttled by whilst she was busy scolding, and she felt like some like company. Aeya was fond of the boy, he had a good heart, a goofy smile. And sometimes, especially lately, they needed more of those around the ship.

"Oh, Lucas, my little protege," she sing-songed, "where are you? Come, keep your master company!" He was older than her, this was true, but she loved to put him in his place. She was engineer, he, the assistant. Though lately, she felt it was going the other way around. Archer no longer praised her like he once did, and elves were a prideful and easily scorned race, particularly her. Sweat and blood went into her machines, and she expected a bit of respect, though not lavish. Oh, she longed for the first few months she had been part of the crew! When everyone was surprised that a woman, let alone an elf, knew what she was doing with the machines. She did not speak while working, and instead was deathly serious, snapping and yelling if someone should enter without permission.

"Lucas," she whined once more, "tell me you've brought me something fun to play with, I'm growing bored, which is never a good thing!" Falling to silence once more, she leaned over the railing and stared off into the town, wishing everyone would hurry back. Petty was a good way to describe her...and she was growing lonely, with no drinking games or stories or feats of strength being held on the usually rambunctious decks.

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Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Jericho Malone Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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Archer Bishop

Archer had just finished off the last swig of a house ale that the waitress offered him as a sympathetic gesture. By the time Jericho would have arrived, the liveliness had died down. Bar-goers were beginning to resume their respective business. Occasionally, they would make a reference to the crazy hooded man for the sake of a joke. But for the most part, he had been disregarded. Which was just as well, Archer preferred it. Sometimes eavesdropping was the best way to get sincere information. The kind the speakers didn’t want anyone to hear.

The negligence for him was almost fully cemented when a commanding and powerful looking cyborg sauntered into the bar. His presence was the kind that demanded the attention of a room, without even speaking a word, it warped the atmosphere. Watching him from over the rim of his mug, Archer immediately recognized the man as his vice-captain, and he was just on time… late as usual.

Archer gestured to the waitress nonverbally for two more drinks, due to Ironheart’s rare condition and how he expected the events to follow; he expected the drinks would come in handy, “You didn’t waste any time getting here,” Archer grinned, “You’re only half an hour late today.”

Archer watched the cyborg fiddle with the locket as he spoke, a worldly man with many acquaintances, Jericho was dependable in tasks like this. Archer’s eyes ignited with inspiration. Two of the pieces had fallen into place: first, the map to Utopia which was being deciphered by their navigator as they spoke, and now this locket, Elven inscribed which meant it could have only originated from one place. Redvale. Half of a cryptic puzzle that would ensure the crews survival.

“No luck yet, Jericho, but I think that’s about to change.” Archer extended two fingers, subliminally shaped in the form of the barrel of gun toward a group of brutish looking men who for the moment had their back turned to the two at the bar, “Treasure hunters, as well, no doubt, and they haven’t left my eye since my arrival here. I’m sure they are waiting for me, well,” he glanced and studied Jericho’s face, “us now, to leave. No doubt so they can beat the information out of us and take the artifacts we may have.”

A devilish grin extended across his face as he stood, “I suppose it would be rude not to oblige. Did you come equipped?”

Aria Melbourne

The scene was not an unfamiliar one. Aethyra had a good heart, but could be scary when it came to engineering and Aria had grown accustomed to sitting in silence as the various crew members (particularly those whose work was in keeping the ship running) lectured her about being more careful. As the tender scolding of much more soothing voice than Captain Bishops began to fade, Aria picked up the last few words.

Now, don't...don't touch it. At all. OK?

Shit, she had forgot to listen. Again. Aria had a tendency to space out during long conversations, it was the only way to cope with the guilt. Fortunately for her (and probably the rest of the crew) she was able to summarize the important information with this final tidbit. Fearing the worst if she were to stay above deck, Aria stumbled backwards with a signature klutzy demeanor as she was saluted off and darted off toward the door to the lower decks. She was grateful to have someone to clean up after her messes, though she sincerely did not want abuse this by getting in the elder elf's way and inadvertently cause more trouble for her.

Aria pitterpattered down the stairs, her bare feet moving hastily to keep from lingering to long on the steel and becoming cold. Once at the bottom, she sprinted down the hallway at full speed. She didn't know why, or where she was going, she just did it impulsively, burning a pent up energy she'd built throughout the day. On her way down the hall, she crossed paths with Aethyra's assistant, Lucas, who appeared to be returning from his trip to Noxia. She smiled and waved a nonverbal "Good evening!" as they passed.

As they crossed, she spun on her heel and called back, a memory re-materializing in her brain, "I believe Aethyra is looking for you!"

She beamed, feeling an over whelming sense of pride in her own little mini-accomplishment. The engineer would have to forgive her now. Continuing her aimless expedition, Aria found herself in the dining hall, disappointed to find their chef had not yet returned. Dejectedly, she took a place at the table. It wasn't until she was seated that she realized how hungry she had become. At first for adventure, but now she would be satisfied getting a morsel of food in her endless stomach.

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Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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"Oh, Lucas!" she gasped and snatched the box from his hands, her eyes spinning over it methodically. "It's beautiful. And we WILL get it to work, even if our fingers bleed." With a smile at the man, Aeya grabbed the bottle of rum and took a deep swig, placing it down and swiping the back of her hand over her mouth. A streak of grease strayed behind on her cheeks, but she didn't seem to mind. "It's simple to drink, if you'd man up a little."

Her glowing blue eyes turned back onto the box in her hands, and she sped towards her workshop below decks, beckoning him to come after her. "It's old Elvhish, I think, we had ones like this back in the Clan." Her words were spilling out in a quick tirade, and she pushed a half-fixed radio from her workbench, letting it crash on the wood boards like trash. She placed it in the center of the table and crouched down, grinning wickedly. Her fingers traced etchings on the side, mouth forming strange and foreign words.

"'The Elkhunt', a popular Elvhen children's story." Aethyra grabbed her hood and tugged it back up over her flaming hair, smile falling back to a serious grimace. "Get my pliers, boy, would ya?" With an aggrivated flick of the wrist, she twirled her dress up and tied it above her hips, baring her underclothes, yet paying no mind; she was in work mode. She was gonna crack this thing open, and make it play again, let it bring her back memories of childhood.

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Character Portrait: Rayne Luther Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Aria Melbourne Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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Rayne looked down at the crew, watching them from the rooftop of the nearest building. She sat perched, her eyes intent on her next prey. One thing made her think about turning back to the requester and declining his offer. There appeared to be a child on that ship.

"Son of a bitch," the thief muttered under her breath. The woman absentmindedly fiddled with what appeared to be a figurine of a robot while she thought. The payout on this was going to be good, all she needed to do was nab the music box that someone had picked up. It had taken her ages to find it and as she'd been about to snatch it from the pile of trash it was hidden in when he'd sauntered between her and it and picked the thing up. Okay, now the girl was gone so it made the job a hell of a lot easier now. Just swoop in, grab the box, and take off... simple.

Or so she thought. The woman he was holding the box to grabbed it and retreated below deck with her prize. But as she left the deck with her friend, no one remained. So she'd just need to track the woman to whichever room she'd retreated to.

"God damn it. Look's like we're doing this the hard way..." and she moved. Not precariously but with precision and grace, that not unlike the wildcat she was so often referred to as.

Rayne's feet pattered quietly on the cobble of the street as she ran to the docks. Coming to a rest at the ship's plank, Rayne reached and pulled her modified pistol from its holster under the clothes on her back. She walked up the plank, careful to not make a sound. As she reached the top, the hired thief ran across the deck, hid behind the full mast in the middle, out of sight of the staircase, and put the figurine from before to her lips.

It surged, power racing through the metal, as Ray dropped it to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the once small robotic figure stood six feet tall and nearly that at its waist. Teko, Rayne's old friend, rolled unoiled joints that creaked.

"You know," he muttered in a raspy metal voice, "I need to take a day off. Maybe go to a spa, find a pretty girl, get a massage." Rayne stifled a snort and instead smacked hit metal head with her gun's barrel. The ding rang out more so than it should have and Rayne mentally kicked herself.

She glanced at her friend, he nodded, and then she took off for the staircase leading below deck with him clanking behind. Down the stairs the pair went, Rayne clearing the way as they advanced. They slowed when they came to open doorways, Rayne peeking into each room before they continued. One room they crept past sat the little girl Rayne had seen earlier. She seemed to have zoned out, which was good.

Talking from ahead caused Rayne to smile. She'd found them. As she swept into the door frame, Teko behind her, to block any escape, Rayne raised her pistol to aim at the woman's head while Teko aimed for the boy's.

"I'll be taking that," she announced, her voice echoing into the hall.

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Character Portrait: Rayne Luther Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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#, as written by Deuce
Lucas took the drink back, popped the cap back on, and placed it back into his satchel. He laughed to himself as she jumped around before heading back below deck. Lucas sighed and scratched the back of his head. "I just can't keep up with that girl." After taking one last look at Noxia and breathing in its cold, dirty air, he followed after her, casually sauntering down the hall as she rambled on about the box. It was nice to see that she was so excited about something for a change, but why did he have to be the one dragged into it? Oh well, it would give him something to do until the Captain got back. He followed her into the workshop, leaning against the far wall and finally deciding to listen to her explanation of the box and her fascination with it. Aethyra pushed a radio down onto the ground, several parts spilling out of it as she did so. "I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure you were asked to fix that radio by... damn, who was it again? Oh well, it'll come back to me eventually."

"Get my pliers, boy, would ya?"

Lucas rolled his eyes and walked over to her tool table. "Let's see, let's see... Ah!" He flipped the pliers up with his right and caught them with his left hand. "Pliers, check." He walked over to her and placed them in her hand, knowing she wasn't going to bother looking up from the box to grab them. "Never say I didn't give you anything. Who names a children's story 'The Elkhunt' anyway? Shouldn't it be called The Elk Parade, or The Elk Dance. You know, something with a bit of a happy-go-lucky feel to it." He moved some loose parts off a nearby hunk of metal, wiping the dust off and taking a seat. "I wouldn't get too excited, alright? Remember, I found it in a junk heap. Plus, if it is Elven I doubt we're going to find parts in Noxia of all places." Before he could continue blathering on, the sight of a woman and a rather large hunk of metal appeared in the doorway.

"I'll be taking that,"

Lucas looked at the duo, an eyebrow raised. He lifted his right arm up and snapped his fingers, pointing at Aethyra afterward. "Ryder. That was Ryder's radio. Man, that was driving me crazy. He asked you to fix that weeks ago. Not saying he'd do it, but you'd better eat off ship for a while." He stretched his arms out and sat forward, resting his elbows on the top of his knees. "Its your call, Boss. The box is yours now."

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Character Portrait: Rayne Luther Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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"You want. My box." Aethyra didn't even turn to look in the doorway, and instead began to fiddle with the music box, popping the top off and beginning to stare at the gears. "I'll fix Ryder's radio later, I want to fix the box first. Elven bedstories are not happy, nor cheery. They are quite dark." She leaned against the table and sighed.

"Sorry, lady, but this box is mine now. Fair and square."

Singing louder, she began to pull out small parts and study them, grinning. "I have plenty of contacts where I can get parts if I need them. Now then." She turn and grinned at the woman and machine, her eyes suddenly glimmering.

"Oh my Dread Wolf, what is that? Can I play with it? Can I touch it? Can I pull it apart? Oh, please!" she run forward staring at the large robot. It was like nothing she had ever seen, and she wanted to study it, badly. "Stay for dinner, we'll discuss the box, and your friend here. How about it? Seem fair?"

((SUper sorry about the shortness of the post :/ ))

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Character Portrait: Rayne Luther Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Ryder Thorne Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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Hearing Ryder's familiar voice, Aethyra smiled and called out to him loudly, "Yo, Ryder, we have some visitors! And I think they wanna stay for dinner!" Grinning cheekily, she swept back towards the workshop table and plucked the radio up from the floor. She'd have to remember to fix it up and stay in the man's good graces; then again, he was soft on her, soft on ALL women, so a good pout and a bat of her eyelashes would be sure that he'd forgive her.

"Spider, please escort the guests to the kitchen, would ya?" she smiled at her assistant, then settled into position at the workbench, her eyes fixating on the gadgets in front of her, smirk falling from her face. Work mode once again, though curious still about the woman's mechanical friend, Aethyra began to work on the radio, the box just a flick of the wrist away, so she could grab it if necessary.

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Character Portrait: Rayne Luther Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Ryder Thorne Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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"Yes ma'am!" Aethyra said, then began to laugh, rolling her eyes. "So, you built him?" She swiveled around and studied the woman, eyes shining curiously, "That is AMAZING. If I had the time and the coin, I would be right behind you. I meant no disrespect," she said, bowing her head to the metallic man, "it's just that you're quite an amazing piece, and I have a habit of being overly curious. My apologies."

"Lucas," she snapped, her eyes suddenly cold as she swiveled on her companion, "don't stand there like a rotting faji tree, show them to the kitchen, get the lady some brandy, make sure their stay is comfortable!" She turned back and tucked the box closer to her body, muttering in her elven language, obviously not going to be bothered any longer. She was working.

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Character Portrait: Rayne Luther Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Aria Melbourne Character Portrait: Lucas Byrne
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Ryder gently smoothed the younger elves nerves away, stroking her hair in a reassuring manner as she collided into his chest. Aria had managed to knock the air from him; she had surprising strength for her little stature, and for a moment he was silent listening to her woes. To be reassured by a man of his – err – nature, to most women would be a disgusting thought, but it was nice to be trusted by at least one person about the Satan’s Serpent. In her disoriented state, Aria managed to work out a sentence that helped the chef assess the situation. Lucas and Aethyra were still aboard the ship, meaning, he was the first to make it back. The captain and his first mate were still out and about, which was no surprise and just as well. He preferred to have the least amount of testosterone about as possible.
Ryder could hear his elvish goddess calling from within the workings of the ship. – "Yo, Ryder, we have some visitors! And I think they wanna stay for dinner!" Sigh, a guest, that was just great. He had hoped it was one of Archer’s guests and not one of the ladies. Still a chef’s duty was to serve, and he intended to uphold that honor. Ryder stroked his chin in contemplation, what would he serve, and how many would he serve for, curry would do – a quick to make meal that was adaptable for more people.

Much to Ryder’s discontent, Lucas was the first to arrive, the aforementioned guest following suit. And it was… A woman! Perhaps this guest wouldn’t be so bad after all, he hoped to make a meal that would convince her to stay, if not only through the night. He snickered at his own perverse thought. Lucas’s voice broke his fantasy, "Well, aren't you two a happy couple. Slightly weird and a bit off, but happy. We got an extra member for dinner. We'll meet you in the kitchen.”

Couple? Interesting, no he dismissed the thought, Aria was more like a little sister to him. And he was far too old. Ryder sighed upon coming to this conclusion, “Got something to say ya Idiot?” He growled, his peacocking was kicking in. But upon recognizing his company, he quickly dismissed the competitiveness. A smile spread across his lips, “I mean – The kitchen you say, Lucas? Sure, see you in a second.” Something about that kid agitated him, maybe it was the fact he was able to spend hours upon hours in the company of the engineer.

After the two bodies disappeared into the other room, Ryder grinned at Aria, “Want to see what I found in town today? Urragon, fresh too,” he said digging it from his satchel, “Guy practically gave it to me for free. I’m excited to try it out.”

Ryder left the rest of his belongings at the table and followed Lucas and the mysterious woman. He rolled his sleeves up as the doors swung behind him. Surveying the room, Ryder noticed, Lucas was carrying a conversation with the blonde, offering her a glass of something to drink. He struggled to avoid hitting him upside the head with one of the hanging pans, but he was a gentleman from Juriya, and he had the decency not to interrupt a fellow man’s conversation, even if he did have a vendetta against him. Besides, he would have his time to shine once the meal was prepared.

Ryder quickly got to work digging through the cabinets first for a pan, then set the stove ablaze by utilizing the flamethrower modification of his arm. Suddenly all his annoyances faded away, he was in the kitchen now, his sanctum.

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Character Portrait: Aethyra Character Portrait: Iris Arae Character Portrait: Archer Bishop
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Aethyra jumped at hearing the captain's voice. People usually left her alone while she worked, that was their deal, but it was obviously something important. She strode from the workroom, grumbling Elven curses, keeping the box clutched tightly in her hands. She didn't trust that it would still be there upon her return. As she walked through the ship, magic prickled at her skin, and she half-smiled, her feminine demeanor returning to her already. It was certainly Elven, though Aria knew nothing of the old arts, and Lady D was half-human, meaning...there was another elf aboard.

Edging into the Captain's quarters, she settled against the wall, still barely half-dressed, and pulled her hood down, tucking her flaming hair behind her pointed ears, a gesture she rarely pulled. The new-comer was obvious, an Elven man, very pretty, with a bone cat on his shoulder. A Necromancer? she thought, How lovely. i haven't seen dark arts since I left home! Catching his eye, she winked and smiled, hoping to calm his fear. She was brimming with excitement to have another elf on board, but she bit her tongue, hoping to have a talk with him later that evening, elf to elf.