The Real Bames Jond
Inactive Member
Fabrication Bay
Nothing was the matter? Maybe it was all of her training leading her astray, but why exactly had a SAINT agent drawn his sidearm, and looked ready to storm a room when there was "nothing to be concerned about"? Mao's lips pulled into a small frown as Candon moved "above" her to return to Hanako's side. Mao spared a glance up to her newly assigned principal still above her.
"Hime-sama, I will return shortly."
It was seemingly one fluid motion to swing herself down towards the doorway with a hand against the wall as a pivot point, while the other returned her Type 33 to its spot concealed beneath her yukata. Her geta met the ship deck and almost as if she'd been walking so casually the whole time she passed through the doorway and into what was clearly a maintenance and fabrication area. Tools, a work station, the subtle smell of grease, and that subtle feeling that this place was well lived-in and used. Then of course the room's occupants.
A minkan. Blonde haired and wearing coveralls slathered in grease.
And then hazel and goldenrod locked onto the room's other occupant.
A trainee. Clothing a pure white and skin . . . not.
Oh yes, and far too close to the young boy to be wholly innocent. But Mao had to wonder why she'd been briefed on who she'd been told were important members among the crew and not been told of a trainee aboard? And for that matter what was a trainee doing aboard a SAoY vessel underway? There wasn't a scrap of blue on the young lady (regardless of just how close to it purple was on the spectrum) and unless they had changed things mere moments after Mao had left for this assignment then only Journeywomen and fully trained Samurai departed for assignments.
And Mao was pretty sure that each was so lost in the others' eyes that dropping her chias between them would probably be one of the most direct ways to get their attention. But she didn't feel like killing anybody or slashing her own palm on her first day.
So instead she stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. Loudly.
Her expression the visage of an Eihei guard. Only a brow raised curiously to the trainee in white.
Nothing was the matter? Maybe it was all of her training leading her astray, but why exactly had a SAINT agent drawn his sidearm, and looked ready to storm a room when there was "nothing to be concerned about"? Mao's lips pulled into a small frown as Candon moved "above" her to return to Hanako's side. Mao spared a glance up to her newly assigned principal still above her.
"Hime-sama, I will return shortly."
It was seemingly one fluid motion to swing herself down towards the doorway with a hand against the wall as a pivot point, while the other returned her Type 33 to its spot concealed beneath her yukata. Her geta met the ship deck and almost as if she'd been walking so casually the whole time she passed through the doorway and into what was clearly a maintenance and fabrication area. Tools, a work station, the subtle smell of grease, and that subtle feeling that this place was well lived-in and used. Then of course the room's occupants.
A minkan. Blonde haired and wearing coveralls slathered in grease.
And then hazel and goldenrod locked onto the room's other occupant.
A trainee. Clothing a pure white and skin . . . not.
Oh yes, and far too close to the young boy to be wholly innocent. But Mao had to wonder why she'd been briefed on who she'd been told were important members among the crew and not been told of a trainee aboard? And for that matter what was a trainee doing aboard a SAoY vessel underway? There wasn't a scrap of blue on the young lady (regardless of just how close to it purple was on the spectrum) and unless they had changed things mere moments after Mao had left for this assignment then only Journeywomen and fully trained Samurai departed for assignments.
And Mao was pretty sure that each was so lost in the others' eyes that dropping her chias between them would probably be one of the most direct ways to get their attention. But she didn't feel like killing anybody or slashing her own palm on her first day.
So instead she stood in the doorway and cleared her throat. Loudly.
Her expression the visage of an Eihei guard. Only a brow raised curiously to the trainee in white.