Methuseld glared at the Knight - the comment about her enjoying herself was<em>not</em>appreciated, and she fumbled at a reply before turning away angrily.... And then turning back once she thought of it. "I was under her<em>spell</em>! It wasn't me, I wouldn't have done that if I'd been myself. As you can<em>clearly</em>see, Aza has been somehow changed... likely by the same thing that changed the ship. Now..." the blonde warrior looked around, eyes searching for a wardrobe so she didn't have to walk around nearly naked while Donovan's eyes, and perhaps even Dean's, occasionally flickered her way.<br/><br/>Padding over to a large oak wardrobe sufficiently far from the fighting, its wood stained dark, she heaved open a heavy door and picked out a soft linen shirt twice her size, clearly a man's, and some baggy pants that she synched up at the waist. Looking a little silly in her over-sized clothing, nipples gently poking at the fabric of her shirt, Methuseld padded back to Donovan to resume. "We're really just going to stand here and wait? Perhaps we should be doing something useful? Like steering the ship? We must be getting close to the docks..."<br/><br/>Steel-gray eyes tried to pierce through the smoke of the fighting; she thought she heard talking, but between the creaking of the mattress and the residual sounds of conflict, it was hard to be sure. She tried to think of why she'd been so compelled, so aroused... She couldn't think of a reason. She just knew she'd feel a lot better, a lot safer, a lot more prepared for what came her way, if she had her armor back...<br/><br/>Well, as soon as the two dark, lust-filled creatures called off this little spat, she'd dare come near enough to get her gear back. Until then, she'd have to make do with these silly men's clothes.