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The stars seemed closer on the edge of a precipice. Without an island to cloud the view, the sky seemed to stretch far beyond the great void. From here, where Rahab stood, it dipped into the vantage point just beyond the billowing clouds of the Calamity. Juxtaposed against the backdrop of an endless, churning void of lighting and peril, the stars seemed to glow all the brighter. The blackness of danger lit the sparks in the night sky into endless, burning candles.

With the heat of a summer shower wafting from the sparse grass in Albayza, it created a still life of the world for Rahab. It felt like he could reach out with a wet brush and blur each color together. These feelings don't find him often enough. Chaleur didn't have much opportunity to enjoy the splendors of life as it should be enjoyed. Instead, currency and status clouded even the prettiest of vistas to twist them into another grab for money or reputation. It soured Rahab's taste to the outside world and to the art and culture that tried to strive beyond the confines of Chaleur's social scheme.

In shifting perspectives and coming upon many vast revelations in his own handful of adventures, Rahab took a curious interest to the culture and beauty of past civilizations. Great monuments torn and turned into ribbons of stone and vines would always look better as he saw them, rather than as depicted before the mystery that wiped the past empire clean. Nothing compared to the very nature of an island reclaiming her lost bounty in the rubble of stone pillars and stone walls. No art work came close to topping the stubs of feet wrapped in vines and cobbled with dirt erected in grassy courtyards.

These were things Rahab yearned for; they brought him to Albayza with a purpose that shoved all thoughts of family to the side. He was making history far more interesting than featuring as a simple name in scholar's workbook.

It was why he woke early that morning to the smell of summer rain filtering in through his cracked window. A streak of wetness, tiny little water droplets, formed a solid rectangle along the windowsill before falling in streaks down the hotel wall. Rahab forced the window shut before gathering what all he packed. There would have been no use in unpacking when he'd only be in the hotel for a day, so each case remained tightly sealed and ready to be carried swiftly out.

With such an eager expression lighting his face, Rahab bypassed any morning ritual he might have had. Excitement and adrenaline carried his feet one, large step at a time and it spared little time for trivialities of society. If Rahab stopped for just a second, he'd find himself going back: he needed to fix his hair, needed to wear the right set of jewelry, needed to put on proper clothing, needed to look fresh and like royalty.

In reality, he needed only one thing: to board that ship into oblivion.

Warm rain greeted him the moment his foot went from marbled floors to hard pavement. It was welcome, as it gave Rahab an excuse to look as rundown as the rest of the riffraff plaguing the docks. He'd arrived early and would likely wait the longest. Among the locals, Rahab would still stick out with his many cases of luggage pressed against him in any way he can manage. Yet, the man still held his head as high as he could, with a bright smile filled with a row of stark, white teeth - straight enough that it garnered sneers from people who caught sight of him. Many a hotel patron offered to have it shipped to the port by noon, but he wouldn't trust anyone else with his possessions. Call him selfish or an elitist scumbag, he knew his stuff best and knew how best to handle it.

So he forewent assistance and preferred looking cumbersome and ridiculous in the downpour of rain. Rahab made little contact with those that came to stand by him in, though he thanked a portly man for keeping him upright during a particularly heavy gust of wind. The railings wouldn't help if he had enough momentum and weight to topple himself into the void. Whether those that gathered by or around him were his shipmates, Rahab made no actual effort to find out. It was an inevitability, one he wanted his absolute, fullest attention to focus on. People he could likely die with (how exciting!) deserved at least that modicum of respect.

When [i]The North Wind[/i] finally docked (most definitely late), Rahab jolted onto the deck of the ship first among the new crew members. He made for the underbelly of the ship only to stop half-way. It would be entirely rude of him to not greet anyway, and yet he had so many things to carry. The predicament forced him to stand upon the deck, wobbling in the heavy wind and warm rain.

[color=B31405]"Greetings! It's a fantastic day for an adventure, isn't it?"[/color] he shouted over the gale roaring in his ears.