Delia Leävit

~home is where the dark is~

[kaimanaofthesea]

Kai sat on the bench outside of the lighthouse. It was a nice day out today, which was rare for this time of year. There weren’t many people coming in for tours which was nice it gave him a chance to take a break, however, he was bored. He froze and unfroze the water bottle in his hand gently so it wasn’t noticeable to the untrained eye. He sighed as he watched a few people go in and out of the lighthouse museum section for tours. He didn’t notice someone approaching him.

[delialeavit]

The lighthouse had long been on Delia’s list of creative places to visit. Yes it was a long ways from her and yes, she was used to confining her art to the comfort of her home. However, the day was just too nice not to spend outside and again, it was on her list...

Even so, they approached the lighthouse distracted as they rummaged through their bag in search of something to write with

- Where was it? Did I leave it on my desk? Shit, there’s none in my pockets -

It was the towering reality of the male’s form that broke this worrying spell. How could they have been so unaware that they were nearing an entire being? Let alone one this tall.

“Oh,” they halted and leaned backwards. They took them in briefly, eyes traveling over his demeanor in an observantly succinct fashion before offering him a small “hey”.

“I didn’t mean to walk up on you like that,” they clarified. Then, they went right back to digging in their bag, knuckled rapping against the hard cover of their journal as their fingertips scraped the bottom fabric for the fifth or sixth time--again, to no avail.

“Um,” she paused to scratch her forehead, “you wouldn’t have a pencil on you, would you?”

[judesfms]

          (  @duskstart​  !  )     ‘  are  you  gonna  hop  on  or  what ?  i  don’t  have  all  night  .  ’  

[delialeavit]

Delia furrowed her brows. Granted, she’d been sitting on this stoop  for twenty minutes but this wasn’t adding up. She glanced around a few times before realizing the person on this rather intimidating bike was serious. “You’re -- I’m sorry -- no I  don’t think so. You’re not my Uber... right? I mean... that’s impossible.”

[loresfm]

          (  @duskstart​ !  )    she’s  working  a  smoothie  booth  during  a  christmas  market  ,   yeah  ,   let  that  sink  in  .   but  lore  doesn’t  want  arthur’s  money  to  buy  his  own  presents  ,   so  she  was  going  to  work  for  extra  christmas  cash  .   luckily  ,   she’s  also  on  break  .    ‘  you  ever  notice  how  a  peeled  lychee  kinda  feels  like  what  you  imagine  pickled  human  flesh  would  feel  like ?  yeah  ,   have  fun  getting  that  image  out  of  your  head  .  ’    please  ,   she’s  begging  you  to  help  her  get  it  out  of  her  own  head  .  

[delialeavit]

“No to ever having thought of that and no to ever thinking of it again.”

Delia was laughing but she wasn’t joking. That was just too disturbing to think about. She was going to leave it there when the absurdity of it all struck her again. She brought her hands from inside her lap to either side of her head.

“I mean what even makes a person think of something like that?”

[delialeavit]

ofdurand​:

delialeavit​:

DELIA DID WARN HER THAT HER PLACE WAS NICE, and she didn’t disappoint. simone holds her breath the first second she walks inside, eyes doing a quick sweep around the space. it’s usually the SIZE of apartments that always fascinates her, because you can tell a lot about a person by how much space they have for themselves  ( all of it being financially related, of course ) .  but it’s impossible for her to not take in the ambience of the apartment first, more cozy and familiar than simone would expect from a stranger. simone doesn’t do cozy, but she likes the way delia’s apartment FEELS. it feels like a good omen, for now.

“ you weren’t kidding, ”   she comments, slipping off her jacket and holding it in her arms. there were about as many plants as she’d expect from a fellow witch, and a bookshelf that simone was itching to walk over and look through, but she knew she had to be respectful. it’s not that delia feels uncomfortable by her presence, but she can’t help but guess that this wasn’t the norm for her—especially how often she pops her head in mid-change, just to check on the other woman in the room. looking at a picture on the wall when delia goes into the next room over to change, she looks over her shoulder casually when she hears the other woman’s voice. it makes her anxious to not stay standing in an unfamiliar space, but she was told to sit, so simone takes a seat on the nearby couch, hands folding in her lap obediently.

delia’s comment earns a short, breathy laugh out of her.   “ running on the high of new life ? ”   she suggests, voice dry. her chin raises to hold delia’s gaze when her head pops out from the other room.   “ take as long as you need, ”   she assures her, not wanting the woman to rush on her behalf.   “ i can keep my hands to myself. ”

For reasons unclear to them, Delia felt a strong affinity against the woman finding her any less than likeable. She was never one to vie for anyone’s attention, but it’d be naive to think that her general anxiety about being found out as anything other than a normal witch had more to do with her survival than it did her loneliness. So when Simone bantered back, Delia couldn’t help but poke her head back into her closet and smile one of a more genuine smile to herself.

“That could be it, too.” She quickly tied a dark brown halter top to her body before pairing it with a more eclectic coat choice, causing all of her browns--from the one in her shirt to the one in her eyes--to compliment one another. As she searched for a better matching purse, she recalled the way Simone had looked so confined to her chair and called to the woman once again.

“And I’m sure you can, but you look mad uncomfortable doing so,” she selected a bag before stepping back into the room, “And I know you want to look at my books--go ahead.” Delia rounded her kitchen island to her fridge. She procured two bottles of water before making her way over to he bookcase herself. She laid on the decorative bench beside it.

“Most of these are ancestral reads I’ve collected over the years. Nothing says  “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” like a Leävit.”

This was a good focus piece. It isolated awareness to easily explainable possessions, and it helped that those possessions paired well with the woman’s natural interests. Delia looked over at her.

“What got you into this stuff in the first place? Also,” Delia offered one of the waters in her hands, “where we headed?”

[delialeavit]

xeurstone​:

delialeavit​:

Euryale was oblivious if the other was something special or a normal human she could add to her collection potentially. They would live another day no doubt since they returned her ancient chisel. It was more of a security blanket, it made it feel like she really was stabbing the statue to their death. Never to be reanimated again. A chuckle parted her lips towards the other, “It is specific, isn’t it? I’ve been around these parts awhile.” Quite a long while if she were being honest. 

“Ah, a midwife. I used to be one myself.” Hundreds of years ago, and for a long time. For many years that’s one of the only occupation women could do that the rulers would accept. “I don’t miss it, but I respect you for it. It’s quite the load of work, especially when each client differs. Art therapy is a nice way though.” Euryale nodded in agreement to her words. “Oh no, I come into the city for my normal work. I sculpt mainly for a hobby. I don’t have much else to do after it’s time to clock out.” She answered with a smile. 

“Did you?” Delia brought both eyebrows to a peak. She wondered briefly what that might have been like. In her mind, she imagined the woman before her doing all the duties she’d just done for Saundi. “Well then yeah, you would know. I mean, I’m as tired as it gets right now.” She laughed curtly as the reality of  her words set in again. Her feet were indeed killing her and her stomach had to be feeding on its own inner lining right about now. Just a few more niceties and she’d be getting home. She’d remember this one for sure though, and if it wasn’t for the chisel then it’d be for the fact they’d met on  her block which was a  sure  sign they’d see each other again.

“Normal work brings you all the way out here?” Delia smiled, “It better pay well.”

[delialeavit]

adriensfm​:

delialeavit​ !

          ‘  that’s  the  only  thing  left  of  my  sanity !  ’   he  quips  easily  ,   head  tilting  to  the  side  as  he  does  so  .   it’s  another  one  of  his  bad  habits  ,   but  it  seemed  that  he  was  full  of  them  so  what  did  it  really  matter  in  the  long  run ?    ‘  oh  ,   i’ll  definitely  disinfect  it  …  google  should  have  the  answer  to  that  ,   right ?  ’  

Delia laughed quietly to herself. “I can tell,” she joked. She smiled at the younger man, intrigued by the light he personified.  “And yeah let Google tell you,” she nodded with a squint, “because like you, I have very little sanity left today. As far as brain cells go, I’ve only got two and they are rubbing against each other desperately right now to keep me upright,” she confessed facetiously.

[delialeavit]

ofdurand​:

delialeavit​:

SIMONE DIDN’T DO THIS VERY OFTEN :   make new friends. she didn’t have very much room for important people in her life, already having her cousins, her coven, and a few other stragglers. she didn’t have TIME to give most people, honestly—it’s why she kept that list so short. but looking at delia now, it’s hard to admit to herself that she wants to see where the night takes her with this woman. admitting it’s for the sake of her coven, however, makes it a lot easier.

getting to know any new witch in brooklyn is just that :   research for her coven. a potential new coven member. a potential threat. it’s typically one or the other. personally, simone’s hoping it’s the former.

nose wrinkles lightly at the thought of the woman helping ANYONE give birth, despite knowing that’s her occupation already. simone’s mother would’ve said that childbirth is magic in its own right, but simone would say it’s flat out disgusting.   “ good call, ”   she says, her tone taking an air of teasing, brown eyes with a glint of mischief. she waits to see if they’ll be an invitation upstairs — part of her isn’t expecting one, but with how cold it was already getting, she hoped there would be one — a smile flickering onto her lips when it’s given.   “ sure. ”   simone will play it casual, but she knows that inviting another witch into their safe space isn’t a small feat. 

“Well then. Follow me,” she invited.

Delia took those same stone steps two by two like every other day. Only this time, there were feet carrying another witch behind them who’s intention was also to occupy space in their home. That was very new to them, but it wasn’t too far off from what they’d predicted. Upon moving here, Delia made a point to suss out the covens. Simone made the Noctis coven seem most appealing, and it was amongst them that Delia felt most comfortable. It was only a matter of time before personal aspects of the two collided. Good thing Delia knew more about magic than how to go night-night. Just in case they needed to prove themselves--or protect themselves.

“Fair warning... my place is actually really nice,” they half-joked, half-confessed before unlocking the door to their apartment. Delia’s space was like a living breathing twin of their essence. Along with being well decorated, it sensed energy just like they themselves did and would likely chew and spit anyone out who disturbed it’s peace. So naturally, Delia led the way in, slipping off her coat and rolling her shoulders as she integrated with her space and reconnected with it’s source of power. She channeled the energy of everything in the room from the life energy of her plants to the intuition coursing through the thistle-colored walls to the way it all interacted with Simone’s presence. So far so good. No alarm sounding off.

That is until she saw her ancient relic of a sand-timer sitting on her kitchen counter.

Delia didn’t dare freeze, but her expression did sharpen abruptly. It was the oldest of her physical creations, one she’d crafted with her grandmother as an integral part of her nightly spell-work. Delia knew exactly how many pieces of sand constituted six, eight, ten, and twelve hours of sleep because of it after often linking them to her physical form before bed each night. She swooped it from it’s obvious place on the way to her closet without looking back to see if Simone had noticed. Panic was not her style... but neither was stealth. If Simone had’ve seen it, Delia hoped it wasn’t so much more eclectic than any other witchy object to cause inquiry. Until such a thing occurred, she’d play it cool. And probably still after that.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be out in a sec.” Delia entered her closet and tucked the hourglass to the back of her shelf. What else did I leave out? The next best thing was to cut Simone’s time alone short and maybe monopolize her attention for as long as possible. Again, all while staying calm. As precautions as she liked to be, the truth was she had been reprogrammed long ago by her grandmother to never function from fear. Only from clarity. Only from knowing.

“You know, Saundi, the new mom, had me beat today,” she pulled her shirt over her head, “but then you show up and I’m suddenly revived?” A quick change of pants. “Did you put a spell on me?” Delia poked her head from around the wall. She wasn’t done yet, but she wanted to check in on the woman, search of the place for anything else revealing, and gain some of that clarity from earlier about how to engage with her now.

[delialeavit]

eliza-wilden​:

delialeavit​:

A smile curled across her lips at the woman’s answer. That was precisely what Eliza liked to hear. See if there were more people like that I’m the world then the goblins life would be much easier. Well she could at least get away with much more  “That is so refreshing. Honestly you wouldn’t believe how many people just love to stick their noses in things that have nothing to do with them, always looking to start something” She began tucking all her stolen goods away. “So thank you for supporting the cause of me paying my bills.” Would some of it go to her bills yes, but it was more for the fun of it.

Watching the woman smile inspired one of Delia’s own. She didn’t know what type of chaotic energy this person held but it was just as exciting. It made them want to scoot closer, but they settled for simply turning towards her as they took in her response. She guessed maybe most of it would be for bills, but not all. She wouldn’t try inquiring further though.

“Hey, I get it. Sometimes bills are just too damn high... and sometimes it’s just fun,” she shrugged innocently with the same knowing smile still on her face, “Either way, you’re welcome...” she paused for the woman’s name.

[delialeavit]

xeurstone​:

delialeavit​:

Euryale seemed to have a thing for witches, a love hate relationship one could say. Though Delia isn’t one she had crossed paths with, and she didn’t operate on assumptions. Because she didn’t see the need to. If a hunter put her out of her own misery, it wouldn’t be soon enough. 

She offered the stranger a smile while she took the chisel back into possession. The instrument slipped back into her pocket, with her hand clasped over it. “Ah yes, I work with masonry quite a bit. Sculpt many things.” Create many custom stone statues that are just other people trapped.  The norm.

A quick nod, “I spend most of my time on my house boat off of staten island. It’s where I get the most muse to sculpt.” A proud smile stuck to her lips. “You said you dabble, do you have your own studio?” 

Staten Island. Now the energy made sense. A supernatural rarity. Delia engaged with those types on a case by case basis, being that you could never be sure what danger they posed. But this time there wasn’t much guessing she had to do. So the woman “sculpted”--must have been some magic in the instrument after all. And the sculptures themselves Delia could only guess were more “man-made” than most artists’ work. She found herself nodding at the woman’s words, decrypting them as she went.

“A sculptor with a house boat off Staten Island? That’s sounds exciting, beautiful, and really specific.”

They were toeing a line between being aware and being unphased. It seemed necessary to do considering they had no idea of the woman’s character quite yet. What they did know was that by the end of this conversation, they’d walk clean past her home, round the block, and then get in safe--just in case the woman’s character was not as copacetic as they hoped.

“No studio but I make time in between work. I’m a midwife in the city and sometimes the mothers will participate in a little art therapy, ya know to keep them calm. It’s a great centering practice and it makes a great first gift for the baby. Even if by the end of it, the colors are all smeared because of a contraction.” Delia smiled. She didn’t mind disclosing that information. It didn’t pin her to any specific location and if it made her seem more likeable then so be it. Relating to the woman seemed safe, and it wasn’t like these details of the woman’s life weren’t interesting. She simply couldn’t put a finger on her which naturally put Delia on edge, considering how rare it was.

“Staten Island to Brooklyn though. That’s a little far out. Are you selling pieces around here?”

[delialeavit]

ofdurand​:

delialeavit​:

—

THE WOMAN LEANS AGAINST THE NEARBY STOOP and simone gets a feeling that she’s not pausing to stay and chat — she probably lives there. eyes flicker up to the building for a moment, appreciating the exterior. trying to figure out how much the apartments inside probably cost. if there’s one thing about new york simone will never be able to get over, it’s the price of real estate. call it a sick fascination of hers. 

but those eyes only move away from the other woman’s for a moment, before her arms are folding over her chest lightly. simone slips on both gloves, now that she has the perfect pair.   “ you and me both, ”   she sighs, and it’s not like simone to small talk with someone she doesn’t know very well, but the fact that she recognizes the woman is enough. delia is someone who’s been on her radar, hoping for a chance to talk to beyond her shop. 

simone hesitates at the question, only for a moment.   “ i was heading home, ”   she admits, though it no longer sounds like she wants to, because she doesn’t.   “ but i could be persuaded otherwise. ”

Delia felt the moment between the two of them silently elongate through the nature of their body language. Right when Simone leaned herself against the  stoop, Delia took a few steps closer. She had witnessed Simone posses such regal passivity in response to others that amused her at times. However, ever since meeting Simone she’d felt a very specific level engagement from her, one she was always happy to match--even when her bones were both physically and literally. Even now, her eyes had a glint to show and her interest in a night out was able to be peaked.

The way the fellow witch announced her plans for the night made them sound like a distant idea and that now, a world of possibility had been presented. It made Delia smile mischievously. Sleep was never her friend anyways.

They brought a hand between the two of them and gestured. “That... sounds like the perfect opportunity for the two of us to get into some shit.” They were only half-joking. She was known for co-creating particularly exciting realities with the people she went out with. She couldn’t wait to see where a night out with the Durand would lead--only, maybe she wanted to change first.

“I gave birth to a baby in this outfit though so I should change,” she announced before turning  towards the steps of her walk-up. It was never ideal for anyone to know where she lived, but it was already too late and she was sure she hadn’t left anything suspicious out as evidence of her powers. She shrugged casually when she looked back at the woman, “Ya wanna come up for a sec?”

[delialeavit]

gabrielferreiras​:

DELIA.

     IS SHE LAUGHING AT HIM? gabriel can’t tell, nor does he really mind if she does. sometimes he’s self-aware enough to know that the laughter is warranted. “well, if i tell him i made a spare, i’ll just say a stranger told me to.” he mirrors delia’s movements, starting to walk backwards. “next time, you can use gabriel, instead of stranger. you know, just in case you have to save me again.” 

Hm, so he was willing to them his name. That was unusual, considering how often Delia herself avoided strangers knowing too much about her. She had enjoyed their light banter, but to know his name meant that if they were to stumble across each other again, they’d have a pre-established dynamic, littered with the occasional joke. That was a potentially a nice thing. It wasn’t like she didn’t find him interesting, despite how one-sided that seemed.

“No next time, remember,” they, in fun, called back with a smile resting on their features, “and Delia,” they announced before falling back into step down their street.

[delialeavit]

vitatm​:

delialeavit​:

      delia’s business seems important, the kind of important that pauses for no one else, especially in new york. venice is convinced that things run differently in brooklyn. not entirely differently, but differently enough to make living amongst people that are not your own worthwhile. unlike delia, venice has no good reason for her sad girl vibes outside of the playlist in her ears, a chemical imbalance in her brain, and the general moodiness that shape - shifting on the moons terms could create. when her phone had fallen from her pocket, venice didn’t even notice the music stop, head tending to millions of different thoughts at once. the pause in sound was enough to make sure delia’s voice cut through the white noise, though. ‘  oh !  ’ venice exclaims quietly when she looks up. eyebrows furrow in a way that suggests she’d have been lost without the device. ‘  thank you so much for saying something. can i – buy you a coffee or tea or – i just, i’m trying to say thank you. but i said that already, didn’t i ? ’ a hand runs through blonde hair, pushing it to one side. she lets out a huff of air. ‘  can i repay you in any way ?  ’ venice offers.

The girl seemed sweet and delicate... but also molded and constant. It was like a petal meeting a star in the sky. Such energetic potential governed by such  softness. Delia often felt things from people, perhaps what was in them or on them. However, what Delia felt from the stranger before them now was a culmination of many things. It was like feeling specific hues of light hit her skin--a sure sign of a supernatural being. Only each light had spelled out the difference between "reserved” and “withdrawn” with the ladder being less true about the person before them now.

“It’s okay,” Delia began, “there’s no need to thank me.” They continued to feel those colored rays on their skin and in the that were staring at them now, they could almost see those same lights refracting. “But sure,” she added quickly, somewhat convinced she wouldn’t regret accepting the offer, “Tea sounds really amazing right now actually.”

[delialeavit]

starlitepages​:

delialeavit​:

Honestly, Laurie didn’t tend to spend much time anywhere other than around Manhattan. She’d visit the other boroughs if it was with friends, and she used to hang out in Staten Island with her ex alot. But nowadays, it was usually just on Columbia’s campus, in some of the libraries, or her condo. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Laurie,” she told them, and laughed at the joke. “Hey, I really should, though. That would’ve been a disaster, you really saved me there.”

The woman was light in a way, and not just because she was younger. She was less illusive than many they’d met and far less defensive. If the way the woman’s possessions had felt in Delia’s hand and the aura she was currently seeing on her now said anything, she guessed the girl was human. Just taking it day by day like the rest of us. 

“No worries,” they chuckled. They were about to turn back in the direction they’d been going in when they thought stick their hand out randomly for the woman to shake. “It was nice to meet you Laurie and I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

[delialeavit]

gabrielferreiras​:

DELIA.

     GABRIEL LETS OUT A SOUND THAT’S ALMOST LIKE A laugh but not quite, taking the time to quickly put the key on his key ring for safekeeping. “i might just have to,” gabriel says with a huff, a little annoyed at himself for doing something so reckless. “i won’t tell them, but it’ll be better than if i have to call him saying i can’t get into open up.”

Delia laughed once the man let out a sound that was similar to one of his own. It was because his laugh sounded more like an impression of what a true one would be, which was some how funnier to her than anything she’d experienced that day.

“Well, stranger. Do what you need to do. If I was your boss you’d have my permission, because the fact is,” she began turning her body in the direction she had been walking in before, “I probably won’t be around to save the day next time.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, “Even though I’m really good at it.”

[delialeavit]

adriensfm​:

delialeavit​:

         ‘  my  vape !  ’   hands  pat  his  empty  pockets  to  realize  they’re  empty  and  jogs  back  to  the  woman  ,   almost  panicked  .   is  he  a  bit  attached  to  the  usb  sized  device ?  maybe  so  ,   but  he  likes  to  think  it’s  better  off  killing  his  lungs  than  someone  else’s !   ‘  you’re  a  life  saver  ,   i  don’t  know  if  i  would’ve  been  able  to  afford  another  for  awhile  ,  ’   he  continues  ,   catching  his  breath  in  his  spare  moment  .  

A smile spread across her face as the man jogged back to her. “Not the vape,” she joked softly with her hand held out. As he took the stick from her, she chuckled even more so, “I get it, these little things are fucking expensive. Long as you promise not to put it directly into your mouth after it’s just been on the ground though, we’re good. No thanks necessary.”

[delialeavit]

ofdurand​:

delialeavit​:

SIMONE HAD JUST FINISHED LOCKING UP FOR THE EVENING. she always hated the wintertime, not because of the snow or the cold or any other reason than it getting dark so early, making the entire night feel like a waste when it was still a relatively decent hour. those in williamsburg didn’t share her sentiment, of course, young people around her age walking around as they head to dinner or the bar. it’d be easier if simone lived in williamsburg, closer to the shop, but even if bedstuy wasn’t her home, she doesn’t think she’d be able to deal with all the yuppies and manhattanites that have moved to the area, thinking they were discovering something great. if simone could pick up her shop and move it out of williamsburg, she would.

hands push into her pockets as simone makes her way over to the G train, wishing she had brought a scarf. there are gloves in her pockets, at least, but when simone goes to pull them out, she can only count one. 

like clockwork, simone hears a voice call out from behind. turning around, she recognizes the glove in the woman’s hand before the woman herself, a smile tugging on her lips lightly as she backtracks over towards her.   “ hey, thanks, ”   she says, sticking the glove in her pocket.   “ i was just looking for that. ”   eyes glancing up, simone finally recognizes the woman.   “ heading home too ? ”   she asks, not sure if delia would recognize her in the darkness. or if she remembers her that much in general.

Delia smiled the moment the woman turned around. It wasn’t like they could forget her. Simone was the leader of the only coven in the city that they would’ve remotely considered becoming part of. Plus, she owned the very hub of Delia’s knowledge. As much as she’d learned from her grandmother--and it had been a lot--Simone’s shop was a source of new teachings now, teachings that melded will with their ancestral knowledge.

“Oh hey,” she looked directly into the eyes of the woman, the life of a midwife melting away as the life of a supernatural took its place. And equipped with a friendly face? It seemed like a worthy come-down from a stressful day to be talking with her now.

“Yes, yes I am. I had the longest work day,” Delia leaned against their stoop with a casualness reserved for only those she didn’t mind knowing where she live. “What about you,” she pointed to the woman’s pocket, “Where were you and your one glove headed?”

[delialeavit]

xeurstone​:

delialeavit​:

Euryale normally didn’t rush, but she did like to be around when her spouse woke up from their stone curse. Not paying much attention she hadn’t noticed the other, or the customized chisel that slipped from her pocket when she had taken out her phone to check the time. She paused and turned with a begrudged sigh aimed towards herself and not them. “Oh thank you. I’d have been looking for that at the ship.” She answered with a small smile, as she retracted her steps back. “Are you an artist too?”

Delia had sensed a visceral energy coming from the chisel in her hand. It wasn’t so much as an energy within it but an energy around it. It hit her senses as something dark but not necessarily evil--a magic with moral malleability.

“I dabble,” they kept it cool as they slid the object back into the woman’s hands, “You must be good at it though to just be walking around with this in your pocket.” She watched the woman for confirmation. She wasn’t sure if she was a witch but she sensed the supernatural element of the woman like one would an insecurity. Though, this person did not seem insecure in the slightest.

“And, I’m sorry... “the ship?””