[b][h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1] [hr] [center][img]https://s.aolcdn.com/dims-shared/dims3/GLOB/crop/3280x2050+0+121/resize/640x400!/format/jpg/quality/85/https://s.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/midas/73ce8167c00ca1dc68e8468a67c07477/202780896/Photo+Credit+Jordan+Matter.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] [center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color]Argo III: Upperdeck Skills: N/A[/center] [hr][/b] Rising out of bed, Arthur stretched his arms. He knew people would take note if he holed up in here all day, so he couldn't really let himself do that. Plus, arguably more importantly, he knew Andy would be worried about him if he didn't show up soon. In a way, it was nice to know somebody cared, it gave him something to fight for besides himself. That was important when things are as bleak as they are, it could be too easy to lose hope, and give up. Andy kept him accountable, it made it so if he gave up, it wouldn't just hurt him, it would hurt her too. Changing clothes, and stepping out of his room, he started to head up to the galley. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if any of the sea gods cared about the Argo III, it was technically a boat after all, or if they found it be be some kind of an affront to their domain. Flying ships with just so fantastical, that he could only assume that fantastical creatures had some opinion on them; they were too interesting not to. Making his way to there, he gave a small wave at Kristin, but otherwise stayed quiet, as he tended to getting himself some breakfast; cereal and orange juice.