The breeze was lovely.

It'd been awhile since she's been on a cruise ship. What's fascinating about this particular sea vessel was that it housed an entire coven full of what was some of the most despicable witches in existence. Even though most of them were pressured to masquerade as a witch in some of the other covens, either to attain insider information regarding how they're structured, or simply for their own safety, all of them would eventually find their way back onto this magnificently crafted vehicle.

"Ay look, some ol' fuckwad's just standin' there. He gonna jump or what? HEY YOU, YOU GONNA JUMP?"

"Crimmy, silence." With no actual means of speaking his words out like a human being, the red feathered familiar had an affinity for speaking out whatever comes to his mind, to almost everyone a regular speaking vicinity, with no restraint or filter between his tiny little brain and his mouth - or well, however telepathic communication worked. Still, it must have been a weird sight to behold, for a bird so beautiful, donning an elegant liberace costume to have a voice as coarse as sand from the Sahara desert, and an accent as thick as the smog from the confines of an authentic pizzeria.

As loud and as swift as it had come, that mental voice went away just as fast.

Soon enough, Loraina - with Crimmy perched on her shoulder, would make her presence known, though it wasn't like she tried concealing it to begin with. She had simply minded her own business on the other side of the deck before deciding to take a stroll of the dimly lit cruise. At this hour, she didn't think that there'd be anyone awake, let alone sharing the same ideas she did on such an ungodly time.

"I apologize if you've heard what my dolt of a familiar said." Though silenced by his master, Crimmy's incredibly creative thinking process brought him through quite a number of loopholes over the years, and he proceeded to show the strange man what he thought of him with a simple Italian gesture, a feat that he had somehow mastered after years of nonstop practice.

Yes, to put things into perspective, the bird just flipped the bird to the man.

"Crimmy, leave." Now that the familiar had completed his task of completely embarrassing his master before one of her coven-mates, what a first impression this turned out to be, eh? There was a sudden thought that this man could be the head of this entire place, as the identity of their leader was still a relative unknown. She prayed and hope that this wasn't the case, but with her stroke of luck, who knew.

Being someone of relative importance, there was an odd chance that her identity as a Brooks may have spread throughout the coven. In the realm of magic though, she was still a relative unknown. An up and comer at best. Yes, those that knew of her family's involvement in the world of politics would know her as her father's daughter. What she wanted was to make a name for herself. For the name Loraina Brooks to be known worldwide. To be feared worldwide.

"He is a bit of a nutter. I hope you'd pardon him." Dressed in a black leather biker's jacket with a red crop top that showcased her shapely abs, in combination of more leather in the form of a pair of jeans and heeled combat boots, this was a stark contrast to the formal attire she frequently dons in her day to day life. Though she definitely had an adulation for clothing of that style, this was what she ultimately found comfort in.

Her accent, though not nearly as heavy as her familiar's, rang clear in the night air of the docks, the only other sounds being the crashing of waves against land and the eerie howling of the wind. She wasn't particularly frightened of interacting with another coven member, but she has heard of the dangers poised by most of these individuals. Even if she had joined in on their ranks, she'd still be a thief amongst thieves. A killer amongst killers.

"Pleasant weather we're having, no? The winds are especially creepy today."

CODED BY REM OF WW