((Let's talk about flights, specifically flights that are cheap. Sitting in cramped seats that make your back ache and force your knees to rub together, jostle elbows with a bloke coughing up a lung, and listening to an infant cry for the seventh time is the pinnacle of the international travel experience. When the stewardess walked her cart down the darkened aisleway, she handed you a note inviting you to first class at the request of a passenger. Who could it be?))

What catches your eye first are the seats. There is SO MUCH ROOM for your legs! And they recline! If your spine could do a jig, it would. "I don't think I've ever seen someone so elated over a seat. But will you look at me with such joy?" She's a middle aged woman with black hair that seems to be in a state of permanent messiness. Eye bags that reveal far too many late nights and, behind those, a pair of brilliant rubies that call out to not just you, but your heart. Slender fingers tap the seat beside her when the plane shakes with turbulence, causing you to lose balance and fall into the seat. A throaty giggle escapes from her when she lays a delicate hand on your shoulder to help you into your seat. "I didn't think you would fall for me that fast, not that I'm complaining. We should exchange names at the very least before our destinies become too intertwined. I'm Zeon Darknyght, and you are?"