.Aria.
Legacy Name: .Aria.

I stared forlornly at the mahogany door that was unceremoniously slammed in my face. I sighed and looked down at my left shoulder. "And we are once again out of job, Ploof," I murmured to my little mouse. He squeaked and stuck his cold, little nose into the crook of my neck. Glancing to my right and left, I picked up my small case of cookware and slung my apron over my shoulder. Motioning for my friends to follow, I set off down the street.

Small squeaks traced my steps as I dragged myself forward. I twisted to take a final glance at my last place of employment. It had been a small quaint cafe close to the wharf and had seemed like it would be an understanding place, open to the fact that my swarm was want to follow me everywhere. Unfortunately, the head cook swore that I would never work in this city again before he dumped my work equipment on the walkway. I have heard this specific vow more times than I could count, and more than once in this small, seaside city. This head chef, though, was also one of the town council big wigs.

I glanced at the bobbing masts of the ships at dock and made up my mind. At my heels, a particularly demanding squeak rang out. Looking down, I noticed Fliter was giving me a questioning look, coupled with an insistent cock of his head. "Ships are our only way off the island, Fliter," I explained to the small rodent. The larger, black rat next to him chattered at me, a tiny paw gripping my pant leg. "Look, guys, I know you aren't fond of ships," I paused during the cacophony of squeaking that followed my words, "what with the mousing cats and all, but we need to get out of here."

I started for the docks, groaning slightly when a feminine shriek rang out in my wake. It was a common occurrence, but honestly, I had spent over three months here. The women should have been accustomed to my comings and goings by now. Granted, they wouldn't have to put up for me much longer.

I arrived at the wharf and claimed a seat on a large crate. Figuring I could hear more about my new destination from seasoned sailors than any passage booker, I sat and listened. My rodents disappeared, small shadows in dark crevasses. All the ships in the dock flew the flag of the marines; no pirates would dare set foot here.

And then I noticed her. She stood next to a small group of sailors, her charisma giving her an air of power. Her hair spilled around her shoulders and reflected golden in the sun. Cloaked in red and black, her hat and coat set her apart from the norm. A monstrous sword which was almost as tall as her was slung across her back; it hung as if it was a part of her body and she moved like the weight was not there.

The sailors dispersed, then, and said their farewells, returning to their berth. The golden lady turned towards me, and I swear I saw a smile flash across her features. She stalked towards me and sat next to me with a flourish, unslinging her sword as she sat. "Now, then," she chirped, "What's a fine young lady like yourself doing in such dreary port?"

I blinked and gaped at her. "I'm looking for a ship."

Her grin broadened. "Ahhh, then you are in the right place. And where are you off to? And, if you don't mind me asking, why are you travelling?"

I blushed scarlet and dropped my head. "Um, I was fired and I need a new job," I mumbled. "I honestly can't tell you where I am planning on going. It has all been pretty spontaneous for the past hour or so."

A look of concern flashed over her face. "Poor girl." She leaned forward glancing at my meagre belongings. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a cook," I stated, "and I must admit that I am curious as to why you are so interested in me, my lady warrior."

She blinked, threw back her head and laughed. "You'll forgive me for my impatience. I usually get ahead of myself, but not this degree. I am a captain you see," My eyes widened and she wiggled her eyebrows at me, "and I am looking for a cook." She paused, a look of pure disgust passing over face. "Needless to say, my current crew has no cooking ability."

I inhaled sharply. A job! Except... "Um, I have a few pets..." I twiddled my fingers.

Her eyebrows lowered. "What kind of pets?"

I cringed. I could not let her believe that my swarm would be left behind, but her offer was so tempting. I gave a small whistle, and like magic Ploof appeared on my shoulder, and my friends moved around my feet.

Her eyes widened and I noticed for the first time that they were ice blue. "Now, isn't that interesting. Tell me, are they trained, or will they eat holes in my canvas and chew lengths off my rope?"

I felt a glimmer of hope and my voice nearly left me. "They're trained ma'am," I replied breathily. "I swear they'll be of no hindrance and, in fact, they'll keep other rats and pests away. They're good at that."

She pondered, her brow scrunched and her lips twisted. She hummed and hawed, her chin resting in her hand. It wasn't until a minute later that I recognized the mischievous glint in her eye and the sadistic twist of her lips. "Are you laughing at me?" I asked. Her smile flashed across her face.

"Forgive me. If you will have us, you are welcome on our ship, as our cook, of course."

I nearly burst into tears of gratitude. I could not have hoped for better. "Yes, yes of course!" I cried.

"But," she interrupted my thanks, "there is something you should know."

I paused, shaking hands caressing Nezukin's soft fur.

"You see, my wonderfully odd cook, we are not your average sailors" She leaned towards me, her voice dropping to a whisper, her eyes shimmering with adrenaline. "We are pirates."

I looked away, biting my bottom lip. Pirates. A frightening career and more frightening still to be on the bad side of a crew of them. My job opportunities were quickly becoming obsolete, and she seemed competent and kind... for a pirate. "I, uh," I stumbled, "I accept, please."

Her smile became absolutely radiant. "Excellent. Now, what is the name of my cook?"

"Aria," I replied.

"And I am Meeca," she returned, "or Suzaku, if you so wish."

Of course, I thought. I would get the marine's most wanted crew, of all the ships on the ocean. Ah, well. Que sera sera. I stood and she led me to her ship.

The Hungry

Meeca: The Captain
Just consider it exceedingly fresh, Captain. And, yes, the machete was necessary, since the outer flesh is rubbery and hinders slicing. The table will be fine and I didn't want your dinner to get away.

Xian Zhu: The First Mate
You have to admit though, Xian, my experiments have conjured up a few eureka moments and deliciousness all around. Okay, I admit that some of my failures have been pretty spectacular, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Kai-Ryu: The Warrior
If you ever figure out what you dislike, please let me know. I hate serving you never knowing if you'll refuse something I've cooked. That being said, if you could let me know when you figure out what you like, that would also be appreciated.

Ryoumei: The Bosun
The smell is just it fermenting, Ryou, but I don't think it should taste like this. Could you...perhaps taste it for me? Please? Please? I don't trust my own taste buds anymore. Please? Please? I'll make you chocolate cake. Thanks, Ryou!

Dell Wright: The Shipwright
Should I tell you what it is after you've eaten it? I'm not really sure if you'll like it though. I mean you've never been fond of heart since it's kind of chewy and you tend to leave all your kelp in a pile to one side. You look sort of green, Dell. Do you need to lie down?

Wild Cat Aimee: The Cannoneer
You are actually a decent cook, though some of your meals are a little dry. If only your chopping skills were as precise and impressive as your aim, you'd be a great rival. As it stands. . . you should probably stick to the big guns.

Skoli: The Informant
The dirty socks comment aside, I'm super happy you think so! Um, but I'll have to ask that you don't use my kitchen to inflict harm on the rest of the crew. They might blame me for letting you use it, and that never ends well.

Coyote Frost: The Sharpshooter
We never really have gotten along all that well, Frost. You're all dark, brooding and vengeful. I'm... well, not, but you seem to enjoy my cooking well enough, even if you don't say so. I always appreciate you going for seconds.

Blaze: The Berserker
I never thought that you would be the pickiest of the eaters on this ship. I figured that would fall to the flirtatious Dell, or maybe even the silent and stoic Frost. Or even little Chloe! Not the big, scary berserker who won't finish her veggies.

Tara: The Navigator
Right, so spinach dip and BBQ chicken pizzas for your birthday. That's coming up, right? I'll make it for you if you promise to stop breaking the salt and pepper shakers. I'm still shocked that the wooden ones were so easily obliterated.

Marine: The Doctor
I try not to smoke out the crew, but sometimes you have to cook off the toxic stuff before it can be edible. And I've only served mush a few times, thank you very much. Once it was porridge, which is perfectly acceptable in mush format.

Chloe Smarte: The Apprentice
Chloe, you should really eat your limes. I know that they aren't the most palatable of the citrus fruits, and are still sour even when made into limeade, but they are all we've got right now and they do wonders against scurvy.

Cutting Board Texture: WanderingBert
Knife: Alaskan Wooden Arts