The captain stands proudly at the prow of her ship. The curved hull cuts through the sea of clouds, riding just above the wet cold mass of water droplets. The steady thrumming of the giant propellers drive them forward. The ropes holding the giant helium balloon creak as they are dragged through the air. The sky in front of her burns bright red with sunset. The land below will continue to be drenched in light even as the sun passes out of her view but that's perfectly alright with her. She's waiting for darkness anyways.
Her jacket is snug around her torso; the bronze buttons gleam in the fading light. The reflection on her goggles hide her golden eyes from her crew's glances and protects them from the cutting winds that whip her long blue-black hair around. Ruby red lips contrast with her richly dark skin but matches the scarf that is tightly wound around her neck. The leather of her gloves flexes as she adjusts her grip on the handle of the sword hanging at her waist. It's thin sheathed blade taps patiently against canvas-clad legs, shaped from her habit of climbing up the nets that hang from the lift above. Her tall dark leather boots hug her calves, held in place by bronze buckles. She exudes a sense of confidence and wears a mantle of authority that fits her position of captain of the airship.
Without moving her head she surveys her crew. A motley bunch, but able and willing and skilled at their respective tasks. She has carefully handpicked each of them in order to staff her ship for its particular position. Some of them jumped at the chance, others had to be... persuaded. But near the end of her collection, her infamy had carried much more weight. Even now that she had filled her quota, there are still lines of applicants waiting for permission to board and serve whenever she makes port. She muses at the draw of stories of adventure and riches. They can make even the most honorable man tempted to turn to her brand of piracy.
She spots their quarry on the horizon just moments before the lookout calls the sighting. In the new darkness, the other ship is a beacon of light compared to her own ship's dark running. Those rich merchants will rue their lack of caution, especially when they fly in her skies.
She barely has to issue any commands to her crew as they all know their tasks and places and have performed similar raids dozens of times before. This would be just another offering up to their coffers. In fact, she almost laments that it will be such an easy run. She waits for the day when she'll have to face down an armada sent out to hunt her down to stop her piracy.
A wicked smile spreads across her face as they silently approach the merchant ship. She loves being the Pirate Queen of the Southern Skies.
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