[h2] [centre] [color=f6989d]Marinalia (Romus) Olympus[/color] [/centre] [/h2] 
[h3] [centre] & [/centre] [/h3] 
[h2] [centre] [color=6ecff6]Victoria [i]Darya[/i] Romus[/color][/centre]  [/h2] 
[color=c4df9b][h3] [centre] Swan Songs . Monday Evening  [/centre] [/h3]
[/color]


[hr]


Marinalia watched as Joel seemed to have a sense of humour as bad as his car was luxurious, two large shipping crates marked with various tags. In the few shifts she had been working at it tonight, and previously in her training phase. Inside was a pair of large engines with a large array of parts that she probbly could name badly. It certainly was alot of money sat in a battered, spray painted shipping crate sat in a airport warehouse.

Joel was sarcastic, kinda a car nut and discribed his job. Well least he was not a banker! Getting out way after seeing the array of parts, she leant against a racking nearby, bright high vis jacket gleaming in flood lights. Waving to a passing K9 patrol, a rifle slung over shoulder from SPD. Even basic cargo airports where under tight security these days. 

[i][color=f6989d] you know, that's not the best way to meet women[/color][/i]

Laughing slightly, though even the joke set her nerves slightly, a concealed taser, pretending to be a lipstick with a genuine lipstick end. Touching up her basic make up was a good cover with a small mirror. 

[i][color=f6989d] Oh, your Dr Frankenstien then. Becareful the monsters you create. 

Now I know a good mechanic in the city, always handy Dr Frankenjoel. Ice rafts might not be ideal for yiour creations. 

Pilot of course., been flying since I was 18, bit of a nomad, helicopters too, Alaska was fun. I loved the mountains.  [/color][/i]

She had grown up on the classics, her grandfather's home had a small but well stocked libiary and Marilania had spent a good few hours curled into a couch hiding from the family arguments. 


[hr]


Victoria had walked it and was not the fastest person in Sol thanks to a walking stick and weakened frame. Some days she almost do without it, others barely get off the sofa to get a drink. Gah, it had never been easy since the illness, even with support.

Life had a way of always making things intresting for the ghostly young woman. 

Then she saw a place Mali had mentioned in passing, a pub the old Starboard, lights where off and doors closed tonight. From further back she was sure she saw some of me she recognised. Was it Milo? 

He never had messaged her after, did he like her or not?
Most people either saw her as some kind of trophy claim, or seemed too scared she might break. He seemed decent though. Seemed, people could be hard to judge. 

Looking over, she was not too far away. Just another human in the city. Though her size, skin almost glinted dully in the led streetlights. Just another ghost in thr city. Litially. 

[hr] 



[@Pilatus][@RoccanIronclad]