Black Crusade: Heralds of Damnation [IC]

[BananaPhone]

When the call was sent out for a congregation to gather upon the bridge, the xenos of the ship did not have to travel far. Originally deposited on the bridge when the activity had started, Amara had been forced from its proximity under the captains orders and so, in the intermission, had deposited herself just outside in the antechamber. Relatively quiet and keeping to herself, the sunglasses-wearing alien stood before one of the windows that allowed her to peer outside into the star-studded void of space. Whatever thoughts that were congregating inside her head were as unknowable to those around her as the reason for her presence.

Amidst the human-derived occupants of the bridge, Amara couldn't help but stand out. Her long, lithe figure clung to the shadows like a wisp of smoke. Her left hand, a long and elegant appendage, was covered with a single black glove, while its wrist was tethered by a small piece of cloth to the belt around her waist. Meanwhile, her right hand endured no such apprehension and instead dainlty held a slim, smoking cylindrical confectionery between her index and middle finger. Periodically the alien would raise the butt of this object to her lips to inhale its scent.

When the doors to the bridge opened, Amara lazily glanced over her shoulder to peer inside at the hive of activity. Human machines were such an...interesting affair. The noise. The lighting. The odiferous residues of oil and grease that permeated the air and clogged ones nostrils were becoming almost comforting. The Eldars ears, far sharper than most, could detect the vicissitude of the ships engines that thrummed softly through the metal frame of the beast they rode in, each alteration indicating to her a change in the engineering crews activity. The cacophony of sensations could be distracting, but finding focus within the maelstrom was a never-ending lesson.

Wearing no armor and garbed in what appeared to be trim-fitting, well-pressed garments of xenos origins, Amara pulled herself away from the window and entered upon the bridge. Her teal hair fell around her shoulders in soft formations, the distinct color helming the alien that towered over all but the hulking marines of the traitor legions.