She moved like a shadow through the narrow corridor of the airship, her steps synchronized with the creak and sway of the vessel as it cut through the clouds. The ambient hum of arcane engines filled the silence, a soft thrum beneath her feet that made every sharp sound all the more noticeable. Talis’ retreating steps echoed ahead—light, frantic, and almost guilty.

Meiyu’s lips curled into a smile, slow and serpentine. Run, little sparrow. I’ll be right behind you.

She followed at a measured pace, soundless as mist, the soft rustle of her silks lost in the groan of shifting metal and the occasional hiss of steam. She was close, close enough to taste the tension hanging off the girl like perfume.

And then…

thump thump thump thumpTHUMPTHUMP—

Meiyu froze. Her head cocked like a predator catching scent.

What in the nine hells…?

It sounded like a panicked creature barreling up the hallway behind her. Without hesitation, Meiyu slipped through the nearest open doorway which seemed to be a dimly lit storage room lined with items for the bathroom. She pressed her back against the wall, obscured by shadow, her breath held in practiced stillness.

It was the odd pink haired elf girl that was at the bar with the shifter man. Meiyu resisted the urge to sigh, her expression remaining composed, save for the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth.

Of course.

She waited, listening as the strange pair continued on, Talis practically vibrating with anxiety, and Phia fluttering behind her like chaos in pink. Once the soft creak of the lavatory door reached her ears, Meiyu stepped out from the storage room without a sound, her expression smoothing into something blank and unreadable.

Curious, she thought. Two critters. One little mystery.

She approached the lavatory door with unhurried grace and, without knocking, slipped inside.

The door closed behind her with a whispering click, louder than it should’ve been in that cramped space. She stood there, just inside the entrance, her back now against it. Blocking it.

“...Oh, good,” she said softly, her voice smooth as silk and just as cold. “I was beginning to feel left out.”

Her gaze slid over Phia only briefly, like a cat acknowledging a fly, before her eyes—dark, gleaming, unblinking—locked on Talis.

Predator to prey.

She smiled, the expression gentle and empty all at once. “So. What did I miss?”

Come on, little sparrow. Show me what you're hiding.

And if the pink haired squirrel got in the way?

Well… accidents did happen aboard airships.

Location: The Place of Biological Release
Interaction: @Tae Meiyu @princess Phia

---

Talis paused mid-splash, blinking water from her lashes as Phia stepped closer.

“You’re washing away the sweat of your terror. I hope you are not afraid of me.”

She froze, water still dripping from her fingertips, then let out a laugh that sounded more like a cough and a hiccup colliding.

“No no, not at all, I’m just… you know, terrified of everything else. Entirely unrelated. You’re lovely. It’s fine.”

She grabbed a towel and started dabbing at her face with frantic little pats, as if she could press the fear right out of her pores. Her reflection in the mirror was wild-eyed and red-faced, hair still frizzing from stress and sink humidity. She gave it a tight little smile that said, we’re trying our best.

As she looked over to Phia…for a brief, shining moment, it felt like she could actually breathe again. Phia was odd, yes, but kind. Gentle in a strange, floaty way. Maybe she wasn’t alone in this strange nightmare of an airship. Maybe she could even relax a little.

The click of the door behind them echoed like a thunderclap.

Talis turned, shoulders lifting like they were trying to cover her ears. Her eyes went wide. Her stomach dropped.

The snake woman.

Standing in the doorway like a shadow given purpose. Smiling like the kind of person who complimented your necklace while imagining how to use it as a garrote.

“...Oh, good. I was beginning to feel left out.”

Talis made a sound. Not a word. Just a faint squeak that may or may not have originated in her soul.

“So. What did I miss?”

Talis opened her mouth and something came out, something not entirely chosen by her brain.

“THE BEANS!!!” she blurted, eyes wild. “From this morning. They are… staging a full-scale revolt. It’s a siege situation. Intestinally. I must go. I’m so sorry.”

She turned on her heel and practically dove into the nearest stall, slamming the door behind her with enough force to rattle the coat hook. The lock clicked into place a moment later, followed by the rustle of cloth and a quiet, whispered gasp of pure panic.

She sat on the closed lid, knees tucked up, arms wrapped tight around her satchel as if it might float her away from all of this.

Please go away please go away please go away. Her thoughts spun like a wheel on ice. I cannot die in a bathroom. Not today. Not like this.

She shut her eyes and tightened her grip on the bag.

Maybe if I’m quiet enough they’ll just forget I was ever here.

“Please, I’m made of sterner stuff than that. Unlike some people who claim they’re four-fifty but complain like they’re ancient.”

Dry words, controlled voice; defiant eyes, flushed cheeks. A miniscule, almost imperceptible, smirk tugged on Scaerthrynne’s lips. Callendra had quite the reaction to his remark. Had he touched a nerve? Perhaps trodden upon something she’d rather keep hidden? Regardless, it was interesting, and he scribbled a note in his mind to investigate further should he have the time, or opportunity, in future.

But for now, he had work to do.

“I could just be two-fifty, and I’d still be ancient compared to most of you,” he replied with a wry laugh. “And I’ve heard humans talk about watching their health at the youthful age of fifty, or even forty. I’d like to think that I’ve earned the right to complain about some things.”

Leaving the exchange at that, he gave Vallena a slight nod. The girl nodded back with an eager smile. The two of them then followed Callendra away from the bar, and deeper into the bowels of the airship.

Scaerthrynne stayed about a half-dozen steps behind the Chief Deck Officer, mainly so that he could keep an eye on Vallena. The girl skipped and bounded her way between the two adults, her large eyes taking in everything around her, even though she’d likely seen everything at least a thousand times before. The few passengers she twirled around and slipped past, and the many who had to get out of her way, could easily be forgiven for believing her to be a child on their first passage by airship.

“Careful, Val,” the dark elf called out, more half-heartedly than not, as she almost ran into a lady. A chuckle breathed through his lips, and he shook his head. Vallena was still just a child; she could be allowed some degree of good-hearted wildness outside of her work.

And he had to admit, her childish wonder, and her seemingly inexhaustible pool of energy was…

Well, it was quite a thing. Sometimes a bad thing, but in this case, it was a refreshing thing.

The deeper they ventured into the Stormrider, however, and the farther they left gleaming fixtures and idle chatter behind, in favour of tarnished brass and mechanical humming, the more cautious and timid Vallena became. She clutched her bandaged arm close to her chest, her eyes gazing at the hissing pipes snaking along the ceiling and running down the walls, as she kept herself close to Scaerthrynne. “There’s really hot steam in them.” Her whispered words were loud within such close confines.

“That, they do,” Scaerthrynne replied and patted her on the head. “That’s why I keep telling you to be very, very careful when you’re here, not that you listen.”

Vallena scratched her wound over her sleeve and bandages. “I’ll be careful from now on, Scratch.”

“We’ll see about that,” the dark elf replied with a smirk. “I wonder what it’ll be next time. A leg? Your face?”

“It’ll be nothing!” Vallena protested with a whine. “Then I’ll prove to you that I do listen! And you’ll be so, so proud of me, just you wait, Scratch!”

Scaerthrynne chuckled. “You know what, Val? I just might, if that ever happens.”

He swept his gaze over the walls, ceilings, fixtures, just about everything as they walked. Not a single rune or stretch of arcane circuitry, no matter how small or short, passed his notice. All seemed to be in order, as they should be. The air was getting cooler, and the airship’s hum sounded just right. Every runic array was arranged correctly, their individual runes glowing and pulsing healthily. None of the arcane circuits seemed to be broken, or close to breaking. That was satisfactory. Scaerthrynne could never be too careful with this airship – state-of-the-art and brand-new, to him, also came with state-of-the-art and brand-new problems.

Before long, the three of them reached the entrance to the cargo hold. “Here we are.” Was that unease on Calldnera’s face, when she turned to face him? Or just general discomfort? Vallena didn’t seem to notice a thing, but Scaerthrynne certainly did. “The cargo hold – whatever triggered the ping should be just beyond this door.”

Well, whatever it was that he thought he saw, it could wait.

“Let’s get this over with then,” Scaerthrynne said and approached the door. He did, however, pause to give Callendra a pat on the shoulder, similar to what he did to Vallena whenever the girl felt nervous. “I wouldn’t worry, Venn. It’s nothing we can’t handle. Probably. I’ll go first, then Val, and then you just follow behind us and make sure the girl doesn’t touch anything she shouldn’t.”

“I promise I’ll try not to!” Vallena piped up, perhaps a little unhelpfully.

Scaerthrynne sighed and shook his head. He said nothing else as he quickly manipulated the runes in just the right way to momentarily dispel the wards, and unlocked the heavy latch. Metal ground loudly against metal, ending with a sonorous thud. Putting his weight into it, and grunting, Scaerthrynne pushed the door open. Its hinges squealed, and its bottom edge scraped against the grated flooring. “Venn, close it behind us,” he said as he stepped into the cargo hold.

This part of the ship was dimly-lit at the best of times – all of its lights far overhead, and had been set flush into the walls and ceilings to maximise space – but when it was fully loaded with crates, barrels, and other odds-and-ends, it was practically a shadowed forest of wood and brass. Voices, distant and muffled, came around corners and floated above stacked goods. More like than not, they were from workers checking on items that needed a little more care, or crew members hiding away for a quick break.

“Oh, I think I know the way!” Vallena’s cheery voice seemed out-of-place here.

“Right,” Scaerthrynne said dryly. “You did come down here without permission, didn’t you?”

Vallena giggled nervously, but still confidently stepped in front of him. “W-Well, yes, but hey! It’s great that I did, now that we’re here, right?” She looked at Scaerthrynne with an expectant look. He couldn’t deny that, and so he nodded. Vallena smiled brightly. “It’s really, really confusing down here, but I explored around a lot! Just follow me. I think I probably can find our way around!”

“Make sure you don’t get too far ahead of us, Val,” was all Scaerthrynne managed to say before she sped off down a narrow corridor defined by stacks of crates on either side.

The darkness didn’t seem to bother her at all, and neither did the claustrophobic nature of this place. She led Scaerthrynne and Callendra through the maze of cargo, the pitter-patter of her footsteps, and her calls sometimes all that told the two adults where she was. Scaerthrynne wasn’t too concerned, however. If she could handle herself down here, on her own, when nobody even knew she was here, then surely she was capable of looking after herself now. All the same, however, Scaerthrynne kept a close eye on everything he passed, and everything ahead of her, whenever she was within sight.

A frown came over his face. Nothing seemed out-of-place, nothing seemed abnormal. The climate control system was in proper working order, if the cooling air on his face was anything to go by, and that would be the first to go had anyone messed with the runic arrays or arcane circuitry down here. The lights would be the next to fail, but a quick glance at the walls and ceiling told him that they were all working. Neither were there any strange sounds – aside from echoing murmurs of crew, and ambient hums of engines, he heard nothing else. No strange whispers, no odd–

“Oh, hello again, mister Eyepatch!” Vallena’s voice came around the corner. “What’re you–”

Then, she screamed. “Scratch? Scratch!”

Scaerthrynne reacted in an instant. He dashed forward, skidding around the corner with one pistol already half-drawn. “Val, get back!” He shouted, but didn’t wait for her to reply before grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her behind him. A surge of energy raced through his blood; his head throbbed with the beating of his heart. All he could feel was Vallena’s grip on his trousers, and her shivers against him.

There, in front of him, and standing over a pair of visibly tortured people, chained together, was the man in white from earlier. The very same one who’d been so eager to help the boy with the broken arm.

Scaerthrynne clicked his tongue. He should have known. It was always the ones who appeared the nicest who were into the weirdest, strangest things.

“What’re you doing, Eyepatch?” Vallena cried. “What happened to them? What’s going–”

“Val, quiet,” Scaerthrynne said sternly, not a hint of levity in his voice. The girl whimpered, pressing herself closer to him. He reached for her shoulder, but his eyes remained fixed on the floating object between the bound people, the array of runes inscribed all over it, and the shadowy wisps that curled from it, that linked with the chains and coiled around them. The dark elf hissed through his teeth. He’d seen something like it before. Not the exact same set-up, but close enough to know it for what it was.

“You, the one Val calls Eyepatch,” he said to the white-clad man. “Listen very, very closely. I honestly don’t know what you’re doing, or what’s going on, but unless you really, really want to meet whichever Gods you believe in today, don’t touch anything. Touch those chains, or just make them twitch, and we’re all going to have a very, very bad time.”

He swallowed, then turned to look at Callendra. “And Venn,” he continued. “I need you to stay calm. Go up to the bridge, find the Captain. Tell him not to worry, but we have a bomb aboard.”

“THE BEANS!!!”

Really? That’s what she went with? Meiyu blinked once. Slowly.

The stall door quivered slightly in its frame, still vibrating from Talis’ dramatic retreat. For a long, poised moment, she simply stood there, lips slightly parted in the vague shape of a smirk, as though trying to decide whether the girl had just lied to her, suffered a complete psychological collapse, or both. Her attention then shifted towards the pink haired elf.

She watched Phia with interest now—closer, sharper. The smile hadn’t faltered, but the stillness behind her eyes had shifted.

Not a squirrel.

There was something in the stance. In the grip on that staff. In the way she’d placed herself between Meiyu and the woman.

No, not a squirrel at all.

A mongoose.

Meiyu had seen that look before. In jungle ruins and desert tombs. Wide eyes, soft hands, and teeth beneath the sweetness. The kind that played at fluttering just long enough to lull the serpent close.

So the serpent… adjusted.

The change was subtle. Her shoulders softened, the tilt of her head took on something gentler, more open. Her arms fell loosely to her sides, and when she spoke, her voice had changed too. Warmer. With a smile that touched the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t mean to frighten anyone. I saw her earlier, that woman, and I asked about her satchel. It looked… unusual.” A small laugh, soft and breezy. “I was just curious. But she ran off like I’d pulled a knife on her.”

Meiyu tilted her head slightly, gaze sliding toward the closed stall. Her voice, though still gentle, grew quieter, intimate. “Which, of course, made me wonder what was in the bag.” She kept her tone light, conversational, like a friend spinning gossip over tea.

“You see,” she continued, “on an airship, unusual things tucked into clutched satchels held by incredibly nervous and terrified people have a way of becoming everyone’s problem. And I’m rather attached to my continued survival.”

She didn’t move toward the stall, but the weight of her presence in the doorway made the tiny room feel tighter. “If you’re just nervous, I understand. But if there’s something in that bag that could hurt anyone aboard this vessel…” she gave a casual shrug, “well, you can see how that might interest me.”

Her smile returned. Kind. Patient.

But her eyes didn’t blink.

“You can come out. No tricks, no harm. Just a conversation. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But I do know when someone’s clutching a secret like it might explode.”

A pause. Then, brightly—

“Or would you prefer I call someone with more official interest in mysterious cargo?”

A beat passed before she added, with velvet sweetness, “I’d really rather not.”

She glanced again at Phia, playful and sincere all at once. “You see, I’m a big believer in second chances. Especially when someone’s first impression is… dramatic.”

She waited, still and smiling.

The mask was firmly in place. But the snake beneath it was watching.