Balthier

It's been a long time since he rode as a passenger on a ship, and he'll admit the five-story sky cruiser is luxury. Decks full of ballrooms and bars and singers and finely adorned rooms, and a leisurely pace that will put them at port in a few days' time. He doesn't like feeling trapped, even if he has back up should something go south, but it was the best way to gather intel on his target without raising suspicion and, well, it's not the worst thing to dress nicely and enjoy himself.

It just never quite settles properly. He's restless, prone to looking over his shoulder -- metaphorically; he'd never give up his identity like that -- and feels like an imposter in a way he hasn't in a long time. Maybe because, had he never run away, this life would have been his.

He does manage to slip through some no entry and sound confident enough to make it up to a private service area of the top deck, above the lights and sounds. The fresh air and bright stars make him feel like his lungs finally inflate.

There's someone else there, and he doesn't really mind if they're worker or noble or something more nefarious. He leans on the rail, trailing his fingers across the wind currents.

"All that beauty, and the sky still wins. Humans are gluttons for punishment, hmm?"