Sevika can’t say she’s not sad. Her and Mel have grown extremely close with her time on the board; and they’d often spend long days together after work. The pair could just be talking, eating lunch, having a drink— whatever. She enjoyed it.

And she hated she had to leave so soon.

She waves Mel’s ship goodbye with her flesh hand, sighing the cigarette smoke out of her lungs before turning on heel. Just about to head back into the towering architecture behind her before a different ship’s horn blares out loud, snatching her attention from the sorrow that was just about to settle in her chest.

Of course she’d be on guard as a pick black vessel with gold and red decals rolls up to the dock; having to take a step back from the obnoxious amount of water that splashes onto the shore.

“Who the hell?” Is all Sevika can muster before the mouth of the ship drops open, revealing a young lady dressed from head-to-toe in traditional Noxian attire. Probably here to take the young Medarda’s place.

Gathering her confidence, she flicks the barely-lit cigar into onto the pavement, striding up to the heavily gaurded woman with a look about her face. You can’t really pick it apart to tell how she’s feeling.

“May I help you?”