[h1][center][color=seagreen]Leon[/color][/center][/h1]


One of the perks of spending a large majority of your life on a boat was that you ended up developing a tremendous tolerance to motion sickness. Battering waves and torrential downpours makes for excellent stomach conditioning and ensures you have a steady pair of legs. And when push came to shove, you needed to be able to survive under pressure to make sure that the ship stayed afloat in the severe conditions that plagued the sea. It had been years since there had been a situation, at least one that didn’t involve Grimm, which managed to unnerve Leon.

At sea that is. 

The fledgling hunter got an abrupt wakeup call about this distinction as he was sucker punched with a long dormant fear of flying. You know, after he was already several thousand, horrifying feet above the all too reassuring ground.

His usual smirk was replaced with a grimace and his skin had started to strike an unnerving resemblance to his green pants. Any sensible person would look away from a sight that caused such anxiety, but unfortunately Leon was the stubborn type that downright refused to admit to himself that something as dumb as looking out a window could make him freak out. With one hand on the glass for structural support and the other on his stomach for mental support, Leon couldn’t wait for the ridiculous ship to come to a halt. Preferably without crashing in flames, but he was getting less and less picky by the minute, as his scrunched up face all but announced to everybody aboard the airship.

[color=seagreen]“This isn’t right,”[/color] he mumbled to himself, steeling his resolve to not throw up, [color=seagreen]“you can't just give gravity the middle finger like this.”[/color] 

(Round 1)