[A woman is peering at the communicator screen altogether too close, with a sort of curious fascination. Her face is a warm brown colour, her eyes a rather unusual amber hue, her hair black and bound back with a scarf, and golden jewellery glimmers at her ears and throat. She's holding the communicator aloft at an angle that shows a room at Casualty Communal behind her.]
Andraste's luscious tits. Is it finally working now?
[A fractional pause. Her mouth quirks into a slanted smile.]
Where I'm from, talking to mirrors is at best a sorry sport and at worst a sign of madness. No offence, of course, Kitten, if you're out there. Pipe up if you are.
[Her smile broadens into a grin.]
Greetings. The name's Isabela. There's a "Captain" to go with that, but I've been short a ship for a good while, so it's just as well.
It's a fine and fancy city you have here, if a little clean for my tastes. I have one question: where's a woman to find something to drink in this strange town, and maybe even someone to share it with?
[ooc: P.S. I have a permissions request post
here, please fill if pertinent. Thank you.]