Andromeda's eyes were on the man as soon as he came down from the riggings. His movements, his attire, and nearly everything about him demanded attention. She was not one to shyly look away from impressive personages. She scanned the pictures embroidered on his pants and watched him move towards her. After a moment, she realized that his interest really was in her, and that he wasn't merely walking in her direction. She raised her eyes to his face, giving him a small, polite smile. Yet, there was an intensity and intelligence in her eyes that showed there was something more.<br/><br/>She was dressed practically, in brown, durable pants, and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her brown curls were restrained by a band, keeping it gathered at the nape of her neck, and there were no earrings in her lobes to catch on anything. On her feet, she wore simple black boots, and around her waist she wore a leather belt with a small pouch hanging from it, containing items of an unknown nature. It was not apparent by her appearance that she was a connoisseur of art and beauty. In fact, she looked like a very normal woman (with the exception of her pointed ears) dressed for seafaring.<br/><br/>So, when the man addressed her as "the<span style="font-style: italic">artist</span>" in his derisive and condescending tones, she was taken by surprise. "I am," she replied in a measured voice, brow furrowing and a small frown turning her lips. Mild confusion and concern showed in her expression.<br/><br/>Her eyes widened as the man made his transformation. She watched with great interest as the hair grew from chin and lip, and as it curled and twisted and gnarled, stretching towards the ground. She watched as he pulled his strange wrap-trousers over his shoulder into a toga. She admired the change, but something about it struck her as a little more showy than it needed to be-- perhaps even corny, with the stereotypical, traditional picture of an elderly man from ancient Greece. Was this some mockery of her heritage? What purpose could this man possibly have for changing himself this way? It interested her, for certain, but she grew suspicious.<br/><br/>His eyes bore into hers, and hers bore right back with a curious intensity. She did not flinch or avoid his gaze. "Why are you here, artist? This journey is for sailors, scientists and warriors; sculptures are for temples, not the sea, nor the lab, nor the battlefield."<br/><br/>Ah. This man was concerned that she would not be a useful asset on this voyage. It was a legitimate concern. She resumed her polite smile, clasping her hands in front of her. "You say it as though artist, sailor, scientist and warrior are mutually exclusive terms. There are many uses for a creative mind, and I can apply mine to more than creations valued only for aesthetics. I am little sailor, dear sir, that much is true. But, if you consider engineering a science, then I am that.<br/><br/>"Consider this: art takes talent<span style="font-style: italic">and</span>technique. Set aside the talent, and focus on the technique. A proper drawing or sculpture that represents a thing that occurs in nature takes exact measurements and math. Proportions, perspective, so on. Then, take the sculpture. It's going to be made on a large scale. For this, I need physics. I need to know how to build it so that it is structurally sound, able to take weathering from the elements, and durable against the machinations of my fellow humans. Though this structure is for the purpose of viewing, it took the same skills that an engineer uses to build towers or weapons. I can apply those skills in that way. I am just as capable of creating practical objects for this journey as I am of creating art.<br/><br/>"So you see? I am artist and scientist. In my case, these things are<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>mutually exclusive. I can also apply my particular talents to battle, though I think I've said enough to defend my position. To answer your question, I am here because I love beauty, and I want the world to be beautiful in all ways... including the unification of our tapestry of mankind. The heart that cares is a beautiful heart-- it is not just the outside that counts." Her small smile widened a little. "I am so glad you asked."