To Victory Comes a Storm

The Storm Cometh
Harlequin W. Heili drifted along on the water's current, her boat gently rocking and allowing her to relax all the more. Calling it a boat was a bit much, it was more like a one-person raft. It was made of a deep black wood, wrought in a sort of half crescent shape being nine feet in length and four feet at the middle, which was the widest part. The front held a conical covering, allowing enough room for someone small enough, such as Heili herself, to curl up comfortably. Though at this point her legs were within the little compartment, while she basked in the sun.

She had parted ways with her Marine ship on some spring island a couple of days ago. She left them to their own devices more often than not and they always got along well without her. And she was never reported to any superiors, so she assumed they didn't really have a problem with it. It was never for long anyway, and she always found her way back to them. She liked her solitude, and it was nice to not have to keep up the facade of a loyal marine. Espionage was a tiring gig.

Her stomach rumbled quietly, bringing thoughts of food to her otherwise empty mind. She reached for a little rucksack she kept stowed away at the front of the Monsoon, rummaging around in there. She was looking for one of the prepared meals she tried to always keep on her, but found nothing. She groaned and stood, easily finding her balance after using the raft for so long. She pulled out a small telescope from her bag and scanned the horizon. After a moment of searching she found the silhouette of an island. She tucked the telescope away and sat down with her legs folded under her.

The Monsoon wasn't a simple raft. In fact, it could be considered more of a waver belonging to denizens of the. It was a Air Gear product, outfitted with Dials and her own Storm Tech. It didn't have a sail, relying on the tides to pull it along or the Dials to propel it forward. Heili tilted the raft, aiming it in the direction of the island she had seen. Her left gripped the lip of the boat and her right ran along the inside, activating a mechanism that prompted a steady burst of powerful wind from the dials just as she leaned forward. She was off at breakneck speed, though she didn't appear bothered at all by it.

Heili always got lost in the gales when she traveled so fast. It was captivating, she felt like she was flying. Like she was truly one with the wind and the sky. She reached the island faster than she thought she would, at the speed she was going. She slowed the Monsoon and pulled into the small little harbor. She tied up the little raft, pulling her jacket from within and draping it over her shoulders. She had rolled it up to use it as a pillow, so it was a little mussed but not to visibly.

She entered the harbor town, looking for a place to grab a bite to eat and some provisions for later when she set sail again. As she went along, she learned the island was called Lambelle and the town was Sheepston. It was a very docile island, for the New World. Not much pirate presence, as it was so small and had no desirable resources or exports. There was even a small marine base, though she wouldn't be stopping there on this excursion.

She found a place to eat quickly enough, a place that fried nearly everything on their menu. She ate and got some meals to go, though instead of heading back to the Monsoon she thought some window shopping would be nice. Mostly to just waste time but who knows, maybe she would find something she absolutely needed, but she just didn't know it yet. She walked around until she found a shop that looked interesting and entered, looking around absently.