dangerous said location happened to be.

His bright, ocean-blue eyes, though beautiful, betrayed his weariness perhaps even more than the dishevelled state of his clothes. His skirt trailed behind him limply, blood caked into the cutting edge that had been hidden in amongst the lowermost seams, yet this was not the Okama's main source of distress. Beyond the state of his clothes and the grimy colour of his usually pristine hair, he had broken most of his nails, and long since run out of nail polish and eye liner. Yonyon preferred dark, vivid colours, for they brought out the beauty of his irises; today, as he stepped onto the dirty, dry embankment of the dock he had all but rushed into settling the ship into, his eyes were framedelegantly in a light baby-blue. Not his usual choice, not by far, but elegant and perfected none the less.

The whiteness of his thigh-high boots were marred by numerous scratches, and the colour had lost its purity long ago as the blades affixed to their heels had been used in combat multiple times already, despite them being brand new at the start of their Captain's misadventures. Now, they seemed to absorb light rather than reflect the sun, the rusty, crimson-brown of the long-since-fresh blood destroying any pretence of class the Okama had all those weeks ago. As he took another step, he began to tap his feet, impatience coming to a head as the promise of a long, relaxing, pampered preening session came ever closer. And yet... For all