#nightshifter7

Ya know, if I didn’t know better, it almost sounds like Muse and Lestara might of been the same person.

(Starter for @nightshifter7. Read this first.)

Rita landed her flight pack with a roar, scattering the bystanders in Capua Torim’s plaza. Once down, she made a beeline for an unfamiliar ship in the harbor.

Rita would rather not be relying on a stranger, but needs dictated. Rita preferred Patty and Fierta, but there was no sign of the little pirate and her ship when Rita had overflown the docks.

She had, however, found her new target: useful because it possessed a duplicate of Fierta’s salvage crane. (A part of Rita’s brain wondered where it came from; Sicily didn’t usually revisit his inventions, so someone must have copied the Fierta’s. If this one worked without blastia, Rita would be interested in finding out who it was later.)

Rita boarded the ship unannounced, and then shouted for the crew. “Who’s in charge, and how soon can we leave port?”

References:

Elle strolled down the Marksburg bridge towards Rieze Maxia, pausing occasionally to take in the colorful assortment of wares. The vendors were more than happy to tell the young woman every possible detail she might have wondered about their products. Elle really loved visiting the bridge. It was really a testament to the progress Elympios and Rieze Maxia had made in such a short amount of time.

“What the hell, Patty?! I thought we had an agreement on this? You think you’re just going to get away with this? All I have to do is send for the knights and I am sure Flynn will not be pleased.” Ryan yelled at Patty. sure, that had had their disagreements before, but nothing like this.

Malik breathed in deeply as he stepped through the doors of his favorite tavern. The old, wooden floor creaked beneath his boots as he wound his way through tables scattered haphazardly across the establishment. He availed himself of his favorite seat at the bar and ordered the usual.

Malik allowed himself the luxury of zoning out as he nursed his drink. It had been a very long day between training a new batch of less-than-ideal cadets, filing far too much paperwork, and maintaining his veteran classes. They were short-staffed at the Knight’s Academy as it was, so more responsibilities had fallen on Malik.

As he continued to unwind he became aware of a man wearing unusual clothing staring mindlessly into his drink. The Captain shook his head and tried to return his attention to his own affairs, but found himself glancing back at the strange man.

“Hell,” he muttered. Collecting his glass, he moved to the neighboring seat.

“Hey, there. I haven’t seen you in before. Are you travelling?” Malik groaned inwardly as the man turned to face him. The guy was dead drunk. Great.