~Well then, I decided to write something up on GoI since I was bored. Want to know what will happen next or maybe learn more about the crew, just give some feedback.~
Morning was just around the corner, a time when even the early birds would be too lazy to get up. Even so, voices bickered and argued inside the departure office. Officials, more asleep than awake, tried to sort out the individuals that wished to take the next ship out of the port, it was chaos. Clad in wiped away blue, an elderly man had his voice projected across the room, speaking into a bronze funnel on the end of his desk. “Please fill in the forms for departure, your request shall be processed in two to three months and a seat on the next ship available will be reserved.”
In the back of the line stood Hannah Gorfist, a young woman that did not stand out of the crowd. It was common for people to have a red tint in their cheeks, the steam engines often producing enough heat to raise up the port’s temperature to uncomfortable levels at some points, Hannah wearing a buttoned up white shirt that lost its pristine look a long time ago, along with a brown vest leading down to a rusted belt buckle holding her brown pants up. Brown hair held back in a ponytail and brown eyes under her glasses, she looked like most women that worked in the port.
“Three months?” Hannah asked herself, trying to lift herself on her toes to peek over the long line of people waiting to complete said papers. “I have to find another way out.” This led her outside, having the woman trail off towards the ship dock. Vessels of all sizes and shapes were there either to resupply or for maintenance, no one actually came to the port to have a good time or stay there. Crates were moved about the place by deckhands, granting Hannah the brilliant idea to hide inside a crate. “Who knows” she thought to herself “I might get on a ship that’s headed to Berband, or at least a place where transits don’t take months to be approved.”
And so, Hannah set about hiding in a crate. A few men savored the delicious culinary creations known as sandwiches in one of their few breaks, sitting on their toolboxes and arched down, chatting and taking a sip from the dirty mugs next to their feet from time to time. “I’m tellin’ ya David, those new Echidna cannons they make blew the hands off one of me cousins workin’ as a gunner, it jams and the next thing ya’ know…” The man telling the story quickly gesticulating an explosion “You’re food for the birds.”
They seemed distracted enough, the woman sneaking to grab a hammer hanging on the side of the toolbox, a spring in her step bringing her in front of the crate. A few soft pulls at the nails with the hammer’s sharp end and she had enough to crawl inside, poking some holes for both air and vision. It was filled with spare parts, gears and pipes that would most likely end up crammed in some engineer’s room. She felt as if it was being moved, a mixed feeling of anxiety and curiosity brewing deep inside. What ship would she land on and how would the crewmen react, should they find her.
Hannah’s crate was loaded on Shirosuki, a hefty ship resembling the Junker archetype that’s widely known, the ship’s crew taking quite a few liberties with augmentations, be them technical or cosmetic. Nevertheless, the crate was tossed down under the ship’s deck, having Hannah open her eyes in realization; she did not pack any food or water. Looking through the holes she made, the first sign of darkness would’ve been a trigger for her, but that did not come so fast, the ship coming under attack.
Getting out and dusting herself, Hannah peaked about to see what was happening. Two Goldfish ships, most likely pirates, attempting to take down the Shirosuki, its crew however reacting. A man in underwear and a military overcoat ran past by her, a winter fur hat set upon his head as he shouted “That’s the stuff!”, bullets starting to pour out in a rain of death from the Gatling gun that he had his hand on. Another individual, this one clothed to the point where no skin was visible, jumped from one of the ropes holding the balloon, scurrying past by the woman and grabbing a few spare parts from the crate, giving her no importance.
While she tried to understand the situation, one of the Goldfish ships rammed them on the side, a pirate attempting to board the vessel, his teeth knocked out with a strong wrench bash. The same wrench was tossed at the ships helm, shattering the wooden wheel and having the Goldfish’s captain panic as he lost control. No longer deafened by the shooting, she turned her attention to the supposed gunner, having him fall down from the wrecked gun, shouting “Boom’s down!”. It was clear that these men were not really sane by the way they both went about their jobs and spoke, Hannah crawling towards the door leading to the sleeping quarters and such.
Eyes widened as a foot the size of her body passed her by, a giant escaping these quarters carrying another Gatling gun, fitting it in the place of the broken one in mere seconds and giving green light to the gunner. Combined fire from both the Gatling gun and the Flak Cannon underneath the deck led to the destruction of their foes, things calming down a bit, this meaning that Hannah would’ve been noticed. She tried to escape however, stopped right in her tracks by a female as white as milk, a deathly color in her white hair as well, white opaque glasses leading down to an embroider short coat, a formal attire worn by captains.
“Who are you?” She asked, pushing Hannah backwards, the woman tripping and falling on her bum. They puddle around her. While the man in his underwear was hardly intimidating, the masked one growled once at her. A closer look at the giant revealed an elongated maw, reptilian, staring down at her. “I’m Hannah Gor… Gorfist, I was in one of the crates you loaded.” She quickly looked away, returning to a pitiful posture on her knees “Please don’t throw me overboard, I beg of you.”
“I say we eat her.” Said the masked man, the gunner replying “I could go for a piece of fair meat.” They were silenced as the giant reptilian slapped the gunner on the back of his head. “Hush you twits, can’t you see she’s a guest. A pleasure Hannah, I’m Kior Qja.” This did not strike well with the woman wearing the white opaque glasses, having her say “We’re kind to drifters? What if she tried to steal something.”. “No, I wouldn’t…” said Hannah in her defense.
While the gunner went to search for his pants, the masked man sat next to her, the other two leaving to their business. He seemed equipped for ship maintenance, assorted tools hanging from his insulated armor. “I’m Wulfe, this is my ship, the only rule I have is that you’re kind to her, she can be a brave maiden of war, but I hate being rough on her.” His hand striking the floorboards softly, running against them. The white, deathly looking woman staring forward, holding the helm on a mostly straight path.
