Cruisin' Together

[rassafraggin]

Having seen the ever-intriguing Solar Flare from the outside and knowing of its great propellor and finned oars combination as a working propulsion system, one might expect an undersea journey to be a trifling affair - more swift and navigationally open-ended, certainly. Not so fast, as it turns out the variety of current patterns in a given region have much the same effect as wind and waves above the sea. The charts are out in the Operations antechamber and the route is being recalibrated every number of minutes, both to take advantage of the natural forces and to avoid undue turbulence. Too much of the latter, it seems, starts a kind of sick countdown in the sensors, leading no doubt towards the impending catastrophe that Begman constructs are known for outside the home Shadow. Not this trip, however. Not while there are so many important dignitaries on board his ship! Merrisol is personally seeing to that, moving between the small map room and the bridge regularly, which puts him in the path of his guests at any given moment.

This trip, Maggie is probably more guest than crew, though she has served in that capacity in the past and will again at need no doubt. Her familiarity with the Flare allows her gait a bit more ease than in the very early days. Though the pitch and yaw of the undersea boat is less than aboard her own vessel, she still compensates for whatever they do run into. Spotting her husband on a pass toward one of his two destinations, she offers a quiet smile, "Hello, my love. Is there anything that I can do to assist?"

Like a kid in a candy store, Ashby has been splitting his time between the map room and the modest library aboard the vessel. Each time he moves from the one room to the other, it is with the frantic energy of someone who has just made some new discovery and now must rush to go and check it against another resource, no doubt becoming a frequent barrier to any officers who might also want to traffic these corridors! Eventually, that inner officer can't help but wander on over toward the bridge, as if lured there by a fantastic scent trail from a fresh baked pie. There is some action afoot! Officers at work! Things to sample and learn in a very different sort of naval vessel! Stepping inside, his eyes flick about in a myriad of directions, taking in as much as possible in an instant as he tries to get a quick read on the room. "*Captain* Merrisol! You wouldn't mind if I quietly hang about and observe, would you? Won't touch a single button, I swear! I've learned my lesson there!" On another trip and ship and place, no doubt! Surely! Not at all here or anytime recently!

Merri catches sight of Maggie through the hatchway, but turns back momentarily to gaze at some magnetic pins on the current chart to reaffix some measurements in his head. Then he turns back and welcomes her approach with an assured smile. "We're keeping on top of things here, Only.. thank you. Are the others still settled comfortably in the saloon? Aside from Murdoch, that is, nosing about the lab last I heard. And Duke Chantris.. the fellow does not take well to being confined, I think," he pitches his voice more lowly as he leans in the hatchway closer to his spouse. "Pacing here and back... have you spoken much-..." He looks over Maggie's shoulder at that point and straightens up a bit, smiling a greeting towards the very devil now and making to stand aside in case Ashby is here to snatch a look at the chart walls again. "Have you..?" he responds to the offhand remark with understandable wariness. But then, nothing bad had come of it, if Ashby had touched a switch at some point. They're all still here! "Oh, certainly. Please follow me," he agrees readily to the request and ushers them both through.

Maggie nods once to Merrisol's assertion. Her reply is left unvoiced as Ashby's enthusiasm washes over her and she turns to offer him a smile and nod in greeting. Turning as they are ushered toward the bridge, Maggie asides a quick nod to answer Merrisol's question of where the others are. The rest is left alone for now as she enters the bridge proper. Stepping out of the hatchway to let the others enter, she finds a spot off to one side to watch the proceedings.

Pursing his lips to signal the sort of deep thought the question deserves, Ashby's eyes narrow a moment while pondering. It only takes a second before he finally nods an answer and a wild grin breaks out across his features, "I'm nearly certain of it!" With this declaration, he waves a pointed finger about in the air, as if signaling for a cavalry charge! This brandished weapon is then resheathed in his other hand as he clasps the pair behind his back. A show of good faith! "You are too kind!" Pivoting on a heel, he faces Maggie, and dips into a deep bow of greeting toward her. "Lady Margaret! While we might not have the joy of the sun, your radiance can certainly help us all forget about such things!" Stepping on through, he can't quite make up his mind on where to go first, forgetting for a moment that the Captain might not want him near that station with the big levers and lots of dials that seems so very, very interesting. Oooo, big buttons, too! And more maps! Clearing his throat, he reminds himself to play it cool, slowing his pace to a leisurely stroll... So casual!

Pausing by Mrs. Cristholm's station to deliver a fresh set of headings and coordinates fed into a long parabolic maneuver, Merrisol appears copacetic with the Amber noble's itchy-fingered fascination with the mechanical interfaces. Two major factors, as he has likely or will likely explain at some interval, are at work here to ensure the survival of all present aboard this little canister winnowing through the cold dark danger of the deep: The general ignorance of her passengers regarding the functions of the control arrays, and the subconscious but powerful sense of self-preservation to keeps one from any really wilfull meddling. The third force, and a highly subjective one, is Martin's own presence skewing the odds. Lastly, and hopefully not leastly, the crew working tirelessly to undo any cascading faults that crop up due to one lapse or another in the aforementioned factors. The charts would seem to be route depictions at certain depths in specific areas of the deep, rather than a conventional map covering a large area in only two dimensions.

Merrisol does look over at Ashby for a moment, however, tempted to react to the Duke's lavish compliment toward Maggie... not with jealousy, but more of a nerdly, 'Well, /actually/.. every system is currently running on stored sunlight, SO...'. But he resists the pedantry, instead strolling to the periscope to observe the bridge from a central spot. "Have you become acquainted with Lord Hywel, Your Grace, now that you control the Chantris fleet?"

Maggie blinks slightly at the compliment from Ashby. Her lashes lower as a blush touches her cheeks, "You are too kind, sir." After a moment, she lifts her gaze to seek Merrisol's, mirth overshadowing the embarassment. Her mirth remains, though her husband's expression is a bit inscrutible. Glancing around the bridge, she notes Ms. Cristholm's place at her station before she looks toward the maps, then out the forward viewer. Taking in what can be seen of their surroundings does not tell her as much as the instruments would, but she is not versed in their mysteries.

Ashby finds himself feeling even more out of place on this bridge than he does in the engineering section of his own ship! His eyeballs are rolling about in their sockets, searching for the more normal items to latch onto. Constants of navigation or nautical life! Even the maps are somehow afflicted! The question manages to draw him back at just the right moment, causing the Duke to turn with eyebrows raised. "Hmmm? Oh, Lord Hywel! I'm afraid he has been too consumed with some of his new projects for me to be able to bother him. I was fortunate enough to be able to borrow the services of a Miss Shiona Pryce, however, for some of the work on my own personal flagship! A wonderful vessel, if I do say so myself. Thoroughly unique and packing a few surprises! Though, I dare say... not quite as advanced as this! A fine ship! And crew!"

The view of the Badlands through the thick tempered lens is of bleak emptiness, at least to the limits of the sub's impulse lighting. In time there will be more than wayward sparks of creature bioluminescence and lone wolf predators, and every colour under the waves will seep back into the world. Ms. Cristholm blinks up at Maggie for a moment's recollected tension, but the steely navigator brushes it off again with a stoic look. She guides the Solar Flare closer to a rushing stream of frigid current and a pull is felt as the vessel is caught by the fringes and carried along. All of her focus pours into steadying the ride, and the eventual maneuver that sees them escape before a steep plunge.