[center][color=fdc68a][h1]Yeva Darbinian[/h1][/color]
[sub][@GrizzTheMauler][@Dealdric][/sub][/center][hr]

Yeva didn't bother to look back at the bar brawl, swiftly leaving the building and walking slightly to the side of the door in case any random patron or debris flew out the entrance. She glanced at Hayden, giving him a playful smirk and a pat on the shoulder as if to tell him that he needs to relax. The Darbinian observed her hand for a moment, rolling up her sleeve to inspect her arm. The shard had sent a weird feeling up her arm when she had grabbed it, but it seemed that it didn't do anything tangible. 

For now, they needed to get out of this town. The pirate is going to be searching high and low for his shard and there's no doubt that he had spotted the two of them leaving.. Unless the carnage in the tavern had distracted him [i]that[/i] much. Suddenly, she heard a thumping noise close behind her; she took a step forward before pivoting her body, swiftly drawing her pistol, aiming it at the incoming giant. It was the walking tin can. She glared at him for a moment before he started speaking, her aim trained on the weirdo's wobbling head.

[color=00aeef]"You..have lady of the seas relic. And since you seem to have a good self being, I will assist you. Whether you like it or not, Darbinian"[/color] He said. She didn't really believe him in the slightest. This relic is something that everyone wanted and she wasn't about to trust a random walking, talking diving suit.

[color=00aeef]"That's right I know your name, particularly me meeting your grandfather. Very similar behavior. HAH..HAH..HAH."[/color]

Despite the giant's supposedly familiarity with her family, he still hadn't said her name, let alone her grandfather's, despite 'knowing' them. She didn't actually know much about her grandfather, but he was a legend nonetheless. What the diver said was partly true, however. Many a time has she been told that she was similar to him, not that it changed anything. 

Yeva took another few steps back, away from the walking tin can, her trigger finger ready to blow his head off his shoulders.