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It took a moment for Siy to recognise everyone. And at first she didn't know what to do, however that moment passed when Valenarr demanding to know if she was friend or foe. And Siymerleia just couldn't help herself. Stepping out from the tree's she replied. "Well I was going to say friend, but I'm just not sure if it really extends to you. Hello Ash, It's Siymerleia. Siy." She smirked at Valenarr, but made sure that she was out of arms reach, or swords reach for that matter. She was kidding of course. While she didn't exactly like him, or even know him well, she would hardly consider herself his foe. Just a friend who wasn't very friendly towards him, if that made sense.

"Mmm, pancakes!" She walked away from the Mirrian and stood next to Zilden looking over his shoulder at the ingredients he held in his arms. Uncertainty clouded her features though when it seemed he couldn't remember the recipe. Perhaps these would not be very good pancakes after all.

After Valenarr slapped his swords, rather angrily, back into their sheaths, he replied to Siy's remark. "The feeling is mutual." Valenarr sneered, finding her lack of, for lack of a better word, fear for him both disturbing and upsetting. Was he not intimidating enough? He could understand her disliking of him, but how could she be so vocal and in such a brave manner?

He pushed those thoughts away when the aircraft started cursing and using Alexander's voice. He heard the situation, and smirked.

This was too good.

Valenarr contemplated walking up to the aircraft and simply kicking it, wondering if it would do damage, physically, to the obvious spirit or soul trapped within this monstrosity of metal, but then realized that doing so would not only be juvenile and possibly have no effect, but it would undoubtably hurt his foot nonetheless, and as much as he was accustomed to pain, ramming one's foot into a piece of metal was not the most pleasant experience.

Valenarr also would have expressed his desire to keep the man inside the plane and leave him that way, but doing so would make more enemies than needed, although he had plenty already, he was sure. He had nearly succeeded in alienating himself several times, and he was not sure if it was because of his immense hatred for Alexander, which had just surfaced recently, or his prejudices against all those that live in the sun.

Either way, Valenarr found himself attatched to this group, much to his dismay. He needed allies, not enemies, in a world that would kill him simply for what he was.

Although, the same could be said about his people to these...

And so, he had no ally, save for one, and that was himself.

The Mirrian was still wondering if killing Alexander would be worth it or not. Outright death was such a mercy in his eyes, for one that had made him endure exile. Valenarr snorted inwardly at the thought that he shove the pale-skinned, scrawny man into the caverns of his home, and then, he would know how he felt.

But Mirrians were too cunning. They would find him and kill him within days.

((Laundry time = good time to write posts.))

Zilden was about to start making pancakes when he heard Alex's distressed voice, asking that he be removed from the ship. Confused Zilly turned around to where Alex's body had been haphazardly tossed and said "Uhm...If you'd just open your eyes you'd see that you are in fact, already out of the Blues Drive Monster" It was about then that Zilly noticed that Alex's body was remaining unusually limp, and that the origin of his voice was coming from within the machine. He muttered a small "Oh dear..." before crawling into the crouchspace he'd created by destroying one of the ships panels. He spent a few moments fiddling with things in the darkness of the crevice, mumbling and rearranging, or whatever the hell it is crazy geniuses do when hidden in dark crevices, but when he emerged he had a rather grim expression, and his lips were pursed. He'd really never had to deal with informing someone that their soul was trapped in an inanimate object, and he wasn't entirely certain how to go about it. "Uh....Alex? I've got some bad news for you....It seems that between my removing a protective panel, someone sitting back there, and your less than perfect landing, that the magical orb I used for transferring the pilots soul between the ship and the pilots body is cracked." He paused, expecting to be lashed out at, but then he remembered that the "person" he was informing was in fact a machine, and one which he could easily control if Alex decided to lash out. "Anyway, I have things enough on hand to keep you....repaired, and at least minimally mobile, but to my knowledge, that orb was...uh...." he braced again, deciding to say the next part as quietly and quickly as he could to avoid the awkward feeling it gave him. "....one of a kind..."