[center][sup][h1][color=black][b] P R I S C I L L A  O K A M O T O[/b][/color]
[color=ed1c24][b]P R I S C I L L A  O K A M O T O[/b][/color][/h1][/sup]
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[indent][indent][color=708090][b][color=white]"C'mon, [i]Princess,[/i] just give us the address. We can show your old classmates how to have a fun time."[/color][/b]

[b][color=ED1C24]"Something tells me that they wouldn't appreciate you guys trashing their place, even if we could put it back together all over again."[/color][/b] Priscilla smiled to herself, answering to a voice that echoed from within her truck speakers. [b][color=ed1c24]"Besides, the last time you all tried raising hell, Mattison had you mopping outside in a rainstorm."[/color][/b]

[color=white][b]"Look, the extinguisher went off by itself, okay? We're innocent."[/b][/color]

It had been a couple days since Priscilla's former comrades had learned about her reunion, and throughout those few days her fellow Seabees had been trying to talk her into allowing them to crash it. They had long known that Priscilla previously attended King's Academy, where plenty famous celebrities had also gone to school—Charlotte Hayes, Derex Steiner, to name just a few. Although Priscilla had tried to explain that she hadn't spoken to many of them since then, her battle-buddies were like lions to an antelope, eager to leap at their chance at meeting the celebrities Priscilla had the pleasure of growing up with.

And in this case, the reunion onboard the [i]Thousand Sunny[/i] was the antelope.

Glancing at the console screen, Priscilla noticed the clock in the upper right shift to 19:30. [b][color=ed1c24]"Anyway, I need to get going. I'll make sure to get you guys an autograph or something. Depends on who shows up."[/color][/b]

[color=white][b]"Alright, alright. Keep us in touch."[/b][/color]

[b][color=ed1c24]"You know it."[/color][/b]

With a press of the "end call" button, Priscilla climbed out of her roughened F-150, and reached into the truck bed for a rucksack carrying her essentials. Clothing, a spare phone charger, etc. Each item was neatly arranged in the rucksack, a byproduct of her military training. Even now, Priscilla struggled to shake off old routine, having previously bloused her pants military-style above her steel-toed boots prior. Apparently, while you could leave the military, the military never leaves you, she had come to find out.

As the Thousand Sunny blew loudly on the ship horn, Priscilla slung the pack over her shoulder and began walking over towards where the yacht had been docked. Time to meet some old friends, and more than likely answer quite a few questions as to where she had been, Priscilla could only figure.[/color][/indent][/indent]
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[/color][/center][right][sub][i][color=ed1c24]Location:[/color] [color=708090]Dockyard[/color] [color=ed1c24]Interactions:[/color] [color=708090]N/A[/color][/i][/sub][/right]