ILUSIA, West Blue smelled like basil. Fresh port air swept in from the sea waves. Each breath was refreshing. The sun was gone. The moon was out. Scores of travelers docked at the harbors. Boxes and packaged cargo were unloaded by ship hands or port workers. All the handlers’ shirts were smeared with gunk or a stain. The foot traffic thumped the harbor wood and made a break-beat. Swept over by the wind, their bandanas flapped and large trousers ballooned. A symphony of yells directed the workers from post on the ships and at the head of the docking bays. Goods were coming and going under the twilights’s version of sunshine for the hustle and bustle never stopped here.

Beyond the bay sprawled streets. Dirt paths cut between small huts and buildings. Front patios were vacant or filled with the funk of a big gut ale drinker with a buddy or two weaving laughs with lies. Tall palm trees gave the villagers shade to chill under. Kids hid behind some as part of some childhood game. Stocky boys wrestled in front yards. Mismatched pairs chuckled and pointed. Women in aprons stood out their front doors barking. A man with a harvest hat plopped on a rock at the neighborhood’s corner strummed a harmony on his guitar. Lyrics garbled out his stupid grinning mouth.

Up the street a young woman at a bar, a glass of strong moonshine swirling around ice and a lime.

Her long white dyed hair flailed like a school grade crush waving. Her skin was pecan tan and her round hazel eyes were deep set. She leaned into the bar's island, poking her butt out on the stool, hunched over the drink as though she'd rather swim in it. The black pants she wore hugged her. Her body curved in and out – up and down - into a fine hourglass figure. The whistles and cat calls of the sailors in the bar embraced her with a wide smirk. She didn’t even blink. Tops weren’t meant to fit so tightly. Yet, her curves stretched the pink blouse she’d bought. The buttons slaved to stay fasten. She and the drink wallowed over new worries. How had she been so naive?

Men would enter the establishment, walking right pass a bar’s dead neon light signed: Swordfish II. They'd see her, lean into the bar for their best pick up lines and swiftly be swatted away. She was not her to pick up some lucky bastard -- not yet at least -- her mind was filled with worse thoughts. Was the World Government really this bad? How had she not seen it before? She sat there, thinking about the words she'd exchanged with Kaldur'ahm, studying the sights she'd seen in Ilusia, and knowing that the world would never look the same in her eyes again.

She swallowed the alcohol... it burned something beauty going down.

The white haired vixen pushed her glass outward and towards the bartender's side of the island. She was only a few away from cut off just based on the sheer amount she'd purchased, but the young Skypiean knew how to hold her liquor. The glass sliding across the counter-top alerted the bartender of her need for another beverage, to which he waved an exasperated hand at her. She began taping the glass in mock annoyance, having play this game with him once or twice already. Before she could be serviced, however, another guy approached the counter and sat down next to her. To her benefit, he hadn't whistled or anything at her. To his detriment, he'd ordered orange juice.

She smiled, knowing what was soon to come of it. The bartender, clad in his apron and dingy spots all over, strolled over with two open bottles. She grinned at the green haired boy and poured in a mixture of the two drinks, creating some kind of orange juice cocktail. He seemed to not be interested in any objections and quickly turned to fill Reinaka's cup with the same juice and vodka. She turned a knowing smile in his direction, she raised her glass at him.

"Do you even know where you are? I don't think this guy'd understand what you meant even if you'd asked for water. Thick lot these guys. Alcoholics, more like it! Cheers anyway!"

She took a large gulp of the drink and coughed a bit at its strength, turning an eye to the smiling mixologist and shooting him a thumbs up. She at least could appreciate that he understood how to make a girl a drink.

"So... your day must have gone well if all you need is a strong OJ to settle it all out for you... Wish I could say the same! HA!!"

She turned a head back up to see a batch of wanted posters being hung and recognized one of the faces. She was surprised that she recognized one of the faces, and wondering how long it would be before her face was on one of them. She'd made enough trouble in the East Blue and now she'd come and destroyed a handful of marine ships with two others. She was on her way to being a true enemy of the government, and she hadn't even known how shed done it.