[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/FjVCFoQ.png[/img][/center] [center][color=cyan][h2]Etoile[/h2][/color] [@Altered Tundra][@Kal-El] ---[/center] "[color=cyan]Are you two [i]done?[/i][/color]" snapped Etoile, patience rapidly wearing thin as she rapidly become more paranoid. "[color=cyan]In case you didn't remember, [i]child[/i], we're in a life-or-death situation right now! Any moment, Inquisitors could walk out of that door right there and slaughter us. There are better things to do than have some sort of bizarre reunion, whoever you are![/color]" She was fuming. There was no time for a hug-and-make-up session. She didn't know who the stranger was, and consequently, she would rather she and the kid not spend too much time here. Getting distracted was all too easy, and all too dangerous. She paced back and forth agitatedly, a quickstep motion of five steps one way, five steps another. "[color=cyan]We should head to the back of the barge. It's easiest to drop to the ground there if need be, and it's out of the way. If we pay attention, we can know they're coming before they know where we are.[/color]" Her pacing accelerated, increasing to seven steps and yet passing in a shorter time frame. Her teeth grit together. Her metallic hand was clenched tightly enough around the hilt of Vent de Trancheuse to expose the glimmering, ether-powered joints, and her face was tight. She was clearly a hair away from snapping. She turned to the stranger with the absurdly massive sword on his back. "[color=cyan]I don't know who you are or your relationship with the kid, and I don't much care. Either way, I saw your hand,[/color]" she said, gesturing to the appendage in question, the one that had released the smoke. "[color=cyan]You're...not an Inquisitor,[/color]" she said, avoiding from long habit actually saying that he had magical talent out loud. "[color=cyan]I would get out while you can. I have a feeling things are going to go downhill from here in a big way.[/color]" As she said that, the door back down into the cabin opened, and she whipped toward it, immediately drawing her sabre as all the tension flooded straight into her sword arm. "[color=cyan][b]Gladius ventus,[/b][/color]" she hissed without conscious thought. What looked like dense heat waves appeared just in front of the sword's blade, and she adopted a ready stance. [i][color=cyan]I better not get caught because I stopped to help this kid.[/color][/i]