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[hr][center]The [i]Sharkfin[/i], Top Deck | South Seas Ocean[/center][hr]
[indent][indent][indent]Slowly straightening from where she'd braced, Tella let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. 

She'd never seen anything like that before. Sure, she'd had lessons in storm sailing. Of course she had. But the storms in the Imperial Sea were tame squalls compared to the utter madness they'd just flown through. Hands shaking on the railing, she leaned over the gunwale, squinting at the storm that screamed behind them as her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden bright sunlight. The thunder, though no longer deafening enough to crack the skies, was certainly still loud, and she could see the muted flash of lightning within the clouds every other second. Yet now the water was calm and placid as she'd ever seen it. Little waves rocked the boat gently as all the speed went out of it. She turned her head to follow the line of the storm. It really did ring the rock, didn't it? She sucked in a breath as she realized that, with no break, they were going to need to punch through it again to get out. 

With a slow shake of the head and a resolution to not cross that bridge 'til it came to it, she left off her storm watch. Running her hands through her hair to try and get some of the rainwater out of it, she cracked her neck, then hurried to do as Captain Gale ordered. As she reached the stairs to the lower decks, she paused a moment with her hand on the door jamb and took a long, slow breath to calm her still-racing heart. Then she plunged down into the dark.

Still instinctually afraid of an officer berating her for moving too slowly, she nearly ran through the lower decks, only slowing when she arrived where their belongings were stored. With a careful hand, she unhooked her earring, placing it delicately beside her saber. Snatching up her rebreather, she gave it a few puffs to make sure it was clear before she hung it around her neck in prep. Her knife went on her belt next, slid around to the back. Never knew when you'd need to pry something open, cut an entangling rope or weed, or stab something that was giving you trouble. Giving everything one last once-over, she removed her low boots, shoving them in with the rest of her things and slipping on a pair of lightweight shoes much more suited to swimming. Wouldn't do to cut her feet down there, after all.

Then, with a sigh, she propped herself against the wall. Leaning her head back, she stared at the ceiling. It still didn't feel right. It still didn't feel natural for her to be here. She still didn't belong. She stuck out, and she [i]knew[/i] it. She'd been working for divers—[i]as[/i] a diver, she reminded herself—for two years. Mostly in Makrus as an acolyte, but two years nonetheless. But it still wasn't enough. Two years wasn't enough to clean the Imperial stink off. And perhaps no amount of time ever would be. In the brief quiet before the rest of the crew arrived to reclaim their things, punctuated only by the creaking of the wood and the gentle hum of the aether engine, she closed her eyes and muttered to herself: "[color=82A837]What the hell is wrong with me?[/color]"[/indent][/indent][/indent]