Here we go, Mia's turn!


She had killed a man.
She had not meant to. Honestly. But he was too dangerous to let live. He knew what she had been hiding. He would have told the captain, and she would never have survived herself. So she had had to kill him. Stabbed her knife, which she hardly used unless it was for work, into his chest a few times, before ending it with a slash across his throat.
To make things believable, she had messily cut herself with her own knife, then dropped the weapon down a drain, so it could never be traced back to her.
She had run back to the ship, gasping and covered in blood, with a story of how they had been attacked while returning from the bar of the town they were stopped at. He had been killed, and she had almost followed, but has fought them off.
No one knew she was a murderer. No one knew the blood on her that was his had not come from holding the man as he died, trying to help him. No one knew that his blood on her was from her own knife. No one knew.
No one knew but her. And with him, her secret died.
No one would know that 'Mathias' was really Mayadriel. No one would know that 'he' was actually a she.
She had heard of a man she had known while part of the Empire crew. Of how, before setting sail again, had lit his home on fire, in retaliation for his abandonment. They had killed his wife, and his son. And, just like her, he wanted revenge.
So, when she heard that he was looking for crew members for his own ship, she was quick to show interest. She wanted to destroy them. Destroy the people who had destroyed her own life. They had killed her adoptive mother, Itylra. They had killed many of her adoptive siblings, including one of Itylra's biological children. They had 'resisted' against them, or so she had heard. They had never even went near the Empire prior to their deaths.
She wanted to be there when they fell. When they suffered, just like her.
Her fingers tightened around the handle of the old, rusty metal scissors clasped between them. With her other hand, she twirled strands of her long pink and blonde hair. She stared into the mirror at her appearance. She let out a shaky sigh. She had to do this. She had no other choice, not if she was going to join the crew of Sacred.
She tightened her hold on her hair, and raised the scissors up to the strands. She closed her eyes, then the scissors, hearing the snipping noise of her hair being cut in two. She dropped the locks trapped in her fingers, and moved on to a new section.
After a few minutes, she dared to open her eyes. She glanced down to the floor around her, staring at the waves of pink-blonde laying around her feet. She swallowed hard. She had let herself get used to long hair, a bad move on her part. She lifted her gaze to the cracked mirror in front of her.
Holding back a soft gasp, she raised her fingers to the short, ear-length blonde hair. The pink was completely gone, and only the blonde was left behind. It was a messy cut, sticking out in places, and falling flat in others. Thankfully, the waves she loved still remained. She bit her lip, twisting a strand of it between her fingers. At least it was long enough to cover her ears...no need for showing off the long, pointed things to everyone. Especially with how rare it was to see elves around. She couldn't risk something happening because of them.
She started looking over the rest of her body, figuring out what had changed since her time on the Empire, and what stayed the same. Her face still did not have an overly feminine look. It was still more rounded than an average male's, but had a jagged look to it that would not set anyone off.
She frowned at her lips. They stood out too much for her. She would find some sort of cover-up for them, make them blend in a bit better with her face. She grimaced at the thought of having to use lip stick or lip gloss. That could just make them pop more, but it could end up as her only option.
She would need to find her binder again. She had left it somewhere in the small, broken down home when she had returned, and had not given it a thought since. She groaned. That would not be a fun search.
Her clothes would help hide her body's curves. Her last ones did, and she doubted what she would wear now would change much from those. That was something she did not need to worry about, at least for the time being.
She dropped the scissors onto the old, dusty counters. She would clean up all the hair clumps later. It was late; the sun was already dipping below the hills surrounding the small forest-valley she had formed her make-shift home in. She needed all the rest she could get on land. It was never fun sleeping at sea. Even her, with her high position on Sacred would still find it hard to sleep, even on a real bed.
She hoped that one was softer than her current one
She started making her way to an attached room, which was her 'bedroom'. Once out of the 'bathroom', she noticed how light it still seemed compared to the darkness of the windowless room. From the windows, which were dirty from lack of cleaning, an amber glow filtered in, bathing the room in red. She looked behind her, towards the glass, which showed the valley around her.
The hills stretched up around her, the soft green turning orange. Lining their bases were a mass amount of oak and birch, leaves green and full. Down by the forest, a large lake shimmered in the dying light. It was the closest source of water, a place she visited daily. She loved it during the day and night, but hated it at sunset, and sunrise. It always turned red.
Red like blood.
She cringed, and turned her head away from the windows as she continued on to her room. She had seen enough blood so far in her lifetime. She shut the door behind her, and closed her curtains. She starting to pull off her shirt, tossing it to the side and replacing it with a much looser-fitting one. She stripped off her pants as well, and replaced them with a softer, longer pair.
She would clean up the discarded clothing later.
The woman walked over to her 'bed', collapsing down on it. She groaned at the hardness of it, offering little to no comfort. She rolled onto her back, trying to get comfortable, and failing. She gave up and tugged up her blanket, over her shoulders. She curled closer in on herself, back to the windows to block out what little light still shone.
She fingered at her short hair again. It would take time to get used to. She was so accustomed to her long hair now, that having such short hair was a strange thing to her.
She would have to get used to it quickly. She did not have the time to waste fussing over how different it felt.
She had two days left on shore. Then, Sacred would set sail.
Two days until her days of hiding behind a false name, a false gender, a false story returned.
Two days until she lost herself once more.


Well then

IT'S SO SHORT I'M SORRY (though i did say the introductions would be really short...)

This probably could have had better transitioning(?), or been longer, or something, but...I don't care. It's better than Grayson's

Now, off to finish an Overwatch oneshot, work on my TF2 oc's bio, and write GITS chapter 13!

Keep on mining, my mineshafters!
-CaptainBat