Cold Comfort Reboot

[rassafraggin]

Well...it was a gamble. Wether the nekkid girl or a dressed girl on a boat would attract attack or...you know. Grab attention. She is in red Sigmaish pilot outfit. Only it has a pink zombie bunny on the back. Standing with arms folded, in a small wooden boat with ridiculous automaton rowing system. Raphaela's hair is loosely braided, but her braid got long enough to dangle in the winds.

The fog rolls in, and venturing into it brings the boat inevitably into the swells and flats of the hovercraft. It revolves within the eye of the fog ring, swinging the sea-level platform to allow the paddle boat to land. The man watches from the top of the stairs this time.

Raphaela watches the man and waits, presumably for "Permission to come on board." her head tilts as her fingers, out of fingerless gloves tap her arm.

He watches warily back but is the first to speak: "Would you kindly step aboard, Miss?" And then he walks down with a grudging step. "I am Sorensen Fflere." He's not going to mention that last time if she isn't.

Raphaela steps off with a nod "THank you." The only thing that might hint at the last time is a slight blush when her eyes, by accident roam to his torso. aaah nice memorie....no no no, focus here. "Raphaela de Sorgo. We have met already..." she hurries "...years ago, though."

"That would account for this feeling I have, then," he nods, meeting her gaze curiously, not noticing her dipping focus. Or... well, of course he noticed. But they are not speaking of such things so there's no point in noticing! "I know you, Raphaela de Sorgo. We are friends, aren't we? Colleagues, I believe," he says with growing reassurance. And he extends a hand, smiling. "Won't you join me? I cannot stay from the controls long."

Raphaela smiles and nods, taking the hand. That familiar, easy way to do so "It is a bit more complicated than that. But yes, all of the above." she pauses "Thanks for taking time to meet me." he was totally hoping it is another nekkid girl floating around wasn't he. buahahaha, proper begmans.

Sorensen seems both younger than Merrisol is/was, and older, at the same time. Self-knowledge and experience coaches his actions. His tone is truly Begman, deep voice lifted into a genteel register. After the initial handclasp, he adjusts his grip until it is a polite grip on her fingers only, with his thumb resting close to the knuckles. "Is this an appointment? I suppose it must be, if we rendezvous'd at these coordinates. Come, Raphaela. Mustn't lose time. The tower is perhaps under attack as we speak." He turns to guide her up the stairs, keeping one or two steps behind her, as stair etiquette dictates.

Raphaela's eyes study him, with open curiousity, and a touch of something else. Maybe something close to fascination. But not quite. She releases his hand, fingertips lingering just a touch at the end before she starts climbing. "Beautiful ship." she pauses before she says "I sought you out. Perhaps, you wanted to see me too. This...is...or at least I...am dreaming of you. I...think." she walks the way she is escorted, looking a bit sad.

Sorensen slows on the stairs and then quicktimes a couple of steps to catch up. " I haven't thought of this as a dream in a long time, it would seem," he murmurs, by his tone reassessing his environment. The vessel is already moving, tipping as it bears into a turn that feels like it's going rapidly and smoothly through space, dream-space, away from Raphaela's borderlands and into another place entirely. Wherever they go, there is surrounding opaque fog the colour of withering roses, and it is the craft that creates it. Flumed from the exterior nozzles, then pushed out to sea by the turbines.

The interior hangar is a huge dome crawling with steel and brass tubes that snake about to create a brain-wrinkled pattern, and lit by skylights, and supplemented by three luminous arrays from above. The upper walkways are populated by shadowy, unrealized figures, supposedly operating the many functions of the hovership, but really it is all the individual beside Raph.

Raphaela's eyes wander around taking in details, it is beautiful ship, then she remembers, pauses and looks at him "I have heard about tower from a mutual friend." her eyes get a feel of urgency and without realising it she reaches for his hand, then catches herself. It is hard, for raph, dreaming. She has not slept properly since forever and this kind of dream might be a bit to easy to enjoy. "I..."

Sorensen turns, just as the craft enters a environment that causes a crackle of electrical energy to race across the walls, platinum fingers solving all the mazes of tubes to arrive at the other end of the ship. He takes her readily available hand automatically to lend support, although the ship doesn't noticeably suffer from the zapping. "Yes, the waters around the tower have gotten stormy. That means the pirate has managed to sail too close, despite the fog," he says, scowling with enmity. "What have you been told of this tower. I only know it must be preserved from destruction."

Raphaela seems to forget to let go of the hand, looking vaguely up at the mention of storms and pirate. "It is hard to explain...and you might not believe me." she focuses her silver eyes on his again "But would you listen? I don't know how much longer I have. Or if I will be able to find you again." Raph does seem to have a bit of a pink glow in the eyes when enviroment stirrs. Perhaps she pinned herself to stay asleep. Cheater.

The man has begun walking again, another long stairwell that rises into an enclosed room that would appear to be the command deck. The wall tubing is larger and more grandly purposed, stippled with steaming, whistling valves. Feels as though the maniacal brass section of a symphonic orchestra have bent and welded their giant instruments to form a spherical cage. Tubas, trumpets, french horns, trombones, and saxamophones, all with their bells pointing outwards from the craft. "What are you saying.. you might leave me, Raphaela?" says Sorensen with confusion and concern. "You do know what's at stake? If the dread ship Eclipse hits the Empress's tower, then we are all lost." There are a couple of clearly marked stations in the room, clusters of push-levers and foot-pedals.

Raphaela says "Dreams are bubbles. Even more so for me. I am always with you...but here is difficult..." she takes her hand back, slapping her gloved palms on her cheek to get hold of herself "You and the pirate...are both right." she pauses "And you have complicated history. But you were both in that tower before she moved in. She did not do it of her own desire, and she needs help. I know why you keep her safe. But she did kick you both out, so I can't blame him for attacking...He wants to return. And you both have someone waiting if you do." she rolls her eyes. Not making any sense raph. "If we have more time, she will of her will go elsewhere safely. Please...all of you are important."

Wisps of smoke-like tendrils seep into the ship as a mistral blasts across the vessel's broad side. Sorensen tries to concentrate on what she's saying, but the situation out there is getting out of hand. "Kicked out - of the tower, you say..? I do not remember that." He gently takes his hand from her and strides over to one of the instrument panels, to rapidly key a seemingly random sequence over the levers and pedals, which hold in their active positions once pressed. "I remember.... another dream. My brother, with me. We had.. a life together. A wife. Then, they were gone. And then came..." He starts to reach for a master lever between the stations, then pauses, frowning. "Then came the Tower." His searching tone stiffens, freezes over. "And my brother, but it's different between us now. We have no bond. I cannot imagine how I ever trusted him. A pirate, a thief, and a murderer. He can have that tower over my dead remains."

Raphaela quickly steps over and, on instinct leans agains his back, wrapping her arms around him, words whispered in a type of voice that would suggest, in any other person, tears, but surely not Raph "Maggie is waiting. Remember that much...You have no idea how hard she is fighting for her husband to ... " and then the warmth of her body is gone.

Sorensen has a grip on the master lever, potential kinetic energy coiling through the reaching line of his body for what must be an act of determination and doom. He turns his gaze over his shoulder when she presses against him from behind, tense as though anticipating an attempt to drag him away from that switch. "Raphaela-" he starts, then stops, listening. He can't quite see whether her expression is as sincere as her tone. Just the crown of her hair, sheens of brass and copper glinting reflectively off the blonde and/or pink strands. That vivid impression is the last he sees of her, and though he takes his hand from the controls as though to reach back for her, it is as futile an effort as trying to retain her final advice in the tumult of the storm and his rising outrage against the pirate's continued predation of the waters he has sworn to protect. With a lunge, he grabs the switch and pushes it full throttle, and the outside world erupts in apocalyptic discord.