Chad took another sip of the golden drink. He focused intently on the horizon and on the distinct sweet taste of the alcoholic beverage, doing his best to ignore a certain individual above traipsing about the airship’s old wooden mast. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wished the mast would come down; then he would have one less problem to deal with. 

The sounds of footsteps on the creaking wooden deck alerted Chad that somebody else had come on deck. Without turning around, he hazarded a guess that it was Lyra, but he was wrong. Turning around and leaning back onto the railing, he faced Rilolia, who seemed to be ill in some manner. He presumed it was airsickness. He offered her a mint in his pocket as he reciprocated her greeting, giving a shrug at her comment. 

“I don’t think it takes a shrink to see how messed up Yazu is,” commented Chad. Rilolia’s question wasn’t particularly one for inducing calm, but he decided to humor her question. “I’m sure many people hold some sort of grudge against her. But she has no sense of economics or common sense. She appeared on my boat, broke my things, broke [i]laws[/i], and assumed I would accommodate her like a self-centered, spoiled brat. Worst of all, she had the gall to call me something along the lines of ‘a greedy imposter of a captain.’ There’s only so much a man’s dignity can take under fire from such insanity. Needless to say, we share a very intimate relationship.”

Another large sip of scotch went down his throat. Just thinking about Yazu made his blood boil, but his mildly pissed off state-of-mind soon changed to one of confusion as an ace of clubs fluttered onto deck, quickly transforming into a person-- A person that asked for one Rilolia Lorchais, who was standing next right next to him. 

“Ah—Yes, I believe the person you are looking for is right in front of you.” Chad gestured towards Rilolia, standing beside him. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about this new development.