<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="floatleft">(http://i393.photobucket.com/albums/pp12/aysande/Elliqyi/bluehairgirl_zps8ed2904b.png)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Room:</strong> Pilot Station<br/><strong>Tag:</strong> Carson<br/><hr/><br/>Sybella leaned against a railing, wanting to be able to see the face of the man she was speaking with. She had not heard the words uttered by Raze, or else she might have acted upon it in a rather unpleasant way. The man had the worst manners. No. Wait. That wasn’t right. Having the worst manners still meant he had some. So she was there with Carlson, blissfully ignorant of the offensive words. Bella wasn’t the kind of person to get in the way of someone else’s work. So when she understood that Carlson was in a dialogue with the Captain, she shut up and got lost in her own thoughts.<br/><br/>Sybella crossed her legs at the ankle and sipped her hot black tea slowly. The cup was warm, keeping her fingers warm too. She had been with the crew more or less six months now. It had been a decent six months. Most people on board were decent, the captain was a woman, which was definitely a bonus. She was taken out of her thoughts by his whispered words. “I vote for trouble.” Sybella answered with a roguish grin. She wasn’t a daredevil, not even a thief, but trouble meant a bit of action and it would be a welcome break in this eventless chase. Eventless for her, anyway.<br/><br/>Sybella hid her grin behind the cup. With her strength, she usually was helpful in searching ships and scavenging what was worth selling, but her main task was on board of  the Aurora, taking care of its crew. It fed her motherly instincts, in a way. She had even overcome her fear of men and come to stand up to the most domineering ones during that time. “You’re thinking about… how did you call it? Gambling?” Sybella asked, not as discreetly as she had her previous answer, now that she believed that the com with the captain was over.<br/></div></div>