Interlude: Cocos morning smoke
The woman sat in her chair, an officer's coat draped over her shoulders, her top shirt button undone, a handful of strands of hair hung over her one golden brown eye, a scar ran down from above her left eye, a blue iris hung in its socket. She sat with a cigarette clutched between gloved fingers and a cup of hot coffee in the other, looking over the city of dreynas skies, banners in the streets below. She took a puff from her cigarette and said, “Protesters again, then.” A voice crackled from the radio hanging around her neck, “Captain Peralta, a courier is on their way to the observation deck with a correspondence for you.” She sighed and pressed the cigarette into the ashtray on the table next to her, taking a sip from the coffee before placing the mug down. She buttoned up her shirt and pulled the officer's coat over her shoulders before taking off her peaked cap, tying her hair into a tight bun, and placing it back on her head. She inhaled deeply before turning around, hands behind her back, looking at the streets below, banners flying, red-coated men with shields being pelted with rocks and debris by the populace of the city. “The city’s gone to shit, where the fuck are you, Ryvr? The proposed king consort would ease the fears of the people.” A young woman opened the door, interrupting her train of thought. She walked up to the physically imposing woman in front of her and meekly said. “Good morning, Captain Peralta,” while saluting, Coco walked over to the woman and said, “At ease,” before taking the letter from her hands.
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The woman hastily walked out of the room, leaving Coco in the room alone. She pulled the top of the letter off with a tear. She pulled the paper out, and a small picture was of a tall man with eyes of brilliant green, five braids in his hair, holding out a hand with five rings on it, holding up two fingers in front of Vera, who was sleeping with a black marker on her face in the shape of a mustache and eyebrows. “That damned Ryvr doesn't ever take anything seriously.” She looked at the picture closer, in the background was another man with black hair and green eyes, and a half-elf with eyes of indigo standing over Vera. She pulled out the letter and read it.
“I knew you would see the picture first, anyways i hope I'll see you at Riviera, your little sis is fine by the way she’s even made a new friend. See the elf woman in the picture for further evidence. Anyways, you know the usual ill see you there, you know the usual.”
The letter was accompanied by a really bad drawing of a smiley face with its tongue sticking out, and beneath it was written “P.S. your little sister is ok, so no need to go all siscon, i dont send her out on dangerous missions, i dont think she can't handle, she's a very capable fighter by the way.”
Coco picked up her lighter, lifted the letter, and lit it on fire, causing it to crumple to ashes, letting it rest in the ashtray. She pressed the ring on her neck and said, “Captain Peralta to bridge, set course for Riviera.” The voice on the radio said, “Yes maam” She sat down in the chair, pulled a new cigarette from her breast pocket, and lit it up.