Still No Lava, Sorry

[rassafraggin]

There is, at some point in the collecting and the gathering and the people coming and going and doing things and chaos, an island of calm time. Where things are thinging, and people are here and there, mostly there, doing Important Stuff that needs doing. It is one of those times, the lull amongst the hubbub that finds a good time to snag a bit of baklava that might be left, and a fresh hot cup of coffee and watch out the window at the sea floor ahead. The chunks and goop and grotty bits were collected (or cleaned off the divers), which leaves Ryika dressed again, and dry save for her hair as she sips coffee thoughtfully.

Uncertain where her red-haired cousin ended up during or after the collection of bits, Maggie edges through the chaos to find some of that fabled baklava. Claiming a piece or maybe two, she slides them; so clearly two, onto a saucer and adds a mug of coffee. Spotting Ryika also off to one side, Maggie heads her way. "Hey, Ryika." The greeting is warm, if quiet. Maybe Maggie does not want to attract the attention of the crew. Not that they really have time to pay attention to those who choose to cluster in a quiet corner.

Quiet is a feature, it would seem, and Ryika turns at the greeting. A smile crosses her face and her voice is just as quiet in return. "Hey there, Maggie. There's still.." She starts and then notes the snack on the saucer and smiles. "Oh good, you found it. I'm surprised there's still any left. How're you?"

There's baklava left because some folks have not learned yet that those neat but unassuming sliced heaps of filo heaven with the mysterious green sprinkles taste extraordinary. Merrisol doesn't stop anyone grabbing up a share, but he doesn't go around with the tray ordering them to try it, either. So he's just strolling back through the lobby with another piece and another coffee when he glimpses Maggie heading down the hatch to the half-level, and follows. "Mind another..?" he inquires, upon ducking into a space just high enough for him to stand, and finding Ryika already settled into a cozy corner.

"Ah, Papa." Ryika glances over and there's a bright smile and a teasing tone to her nickname for him. "I'm glad to catch you, actually. Both of you for that matter." She takes a sip from her coffee and erms softly. "I wanted to talk to you both before life hit the rumour mill. I expect it will at some point, no matter how quiet we keep our life."

Maggie tilts her head, eyes picking up laughter and tossing it to Merrisol. Papa. And mom, no doubt. Merrisol is greeted with a warmer than that smile and gentle, "Hello, love." Her smile remains fond as she looks back, though it gentles down as she quirks an eyebrow at Ryika's opening. Finishing her approach, she motions to one of the sunken couches nearby. With their comfy cushions and access to the circular under-da-sea viewport, they could have been included just for one of these quite tete-a-tetes. "Although I think that both of us have something to talk to you about, please... You go first."

The submarine is holding more or less steady a few hundred feet above the sea bed, and just out of reach of the great kelp forest where the undersea river runs past. The view of the giant waving stalks and drifting fronds, and the marine activities throughout is not quite ideal, however, unless one finds fascination in blighted, undead things.

Merrisol considers the setting then turns his attention back to the bright bundles of life in his own vicinity. "Hullo," he responds quietly to Maggie's greeting with a warm smile, and smirks a mock 'hrmph' over Ryika's moniker for him. Despite the distance, independence, and success his and Maggie's former amnesiac charge has achieved since those baby-step beginnings, some concepts perhaps still do linger on in one way or another. He steps directly across the glass shield as if demonstrating his confidence in its sturdiness, to settle down on the seat beside Maggie and nod attentively for Ryika to go ahead.

Ryika brings her coffee and snack over to those comfy cushions, to settle into a couch and curl up in the corner of it for a lovely morning tete a tete. She quirks a brow at the mention of both having things to talk about and nods. "Clearly we need to visit without a national crisis slightly more often. At least there's no volcanoes, yet." She tucks her feet up under her, settling comfortably with her coffee in her hands. "."

Maggie's gaze does follow Merrisol's approach and she does not wince at all when he crosses the glass viewport. Not even internally. Turning as he settles beside her, she leans against him for a short insta-hug sort of contact before sitting up and giving Ryika her full attention. A nod joins a short laugh, "Boy, that is the truth. We really do. For the record? I'm voting for no volcanoes this time." Lifting her hand, Maggie claims a bite of the baklava and spends a moment in abject worship of the pastry gods. And Ryika for being the pastry gods' herald and pusher. "Mmm. Thank you for bringing these." And then? She nods slowly, "."

Is it technically a royal edict, if Martin spilled the beans? Merrisol wouldn't pretend to be taken by surprise, even if he could manage such a feat, upon hearing . He does, however, respond to the fact of her having declared, with a quiet full intake of breath and a very real smile, while Maggie speaks with practicality. There's a lot of questions, as well, so he takes a sip from his coffee and ruminates a while until they are addressed.

"And you, sir, already knew." Ryika waggles a finger at Merrisol and smiles. "Which either means you've had time enough to practice not wincing, or .. well.. or you've had time enough to practice not wincing." She smiles, her voice light before she turns back to Maggie and that smile holds. "."

Maggie lifts a hand as though to gesture with her coffee cup but she takes a sip instead. The coffee really does go beautifully with the baklava and that taste sensation should not be missed. And it gives Ryika a chance to speak uninterrupted. She does chuckle at the finger waggling and does not attempt to address Merrisol's facial expression exercises. If any such things exist. Leaning back, she rests the cup on the saucer that still holds one piece of golden, flakey pastry and nut with honey plunder on it. Sobering a bit more, she nods, "People do change. No question there. But, it is also true that reputations are frequently built on behavior. I know that my family can be pretty reprehensible. ." A brow is quirked up toward her own beloved to give him a moment to address things before she slides into the more pleasant aspects. Like scouring Shadow for Ryika's desire. That? Will be entertaining, no doubt.

Merrisol smiles again, more briefly, over the quip but only shakes his head a little and continues to quietly take in Ryika's response. As , he seems satisfied to withhold commentary that may not in fact be necessary, all things considered. After Maggie's response, he nods to her and hunkers forward with his forearms resting over his knees, simply to look at Ryika and say, "I did wince when I first heard.. the reasons are.. more than a few and probably muddled. Most exceptionally, however, it came to me that there have been times when you professed to be unhappy and even angry, Ryika.. and I knew the regret of not having taken the time to inquire over these things. Thinking, of course, that were /would/ be time." He regards the petite Rebman lady with a shadow of that thought in his eyes, and concludes, ".." He inhales again, word-searching.. "Unconducive. Although, if you still desired it, I would gladly listen."

"," Ryika ahems lightly, the touch of a smirk hidden poorly by her coffee cup before she gets a touch more serious. "" She nods to Merrisol, slowly at his mention of anger and frustration. "."

Maggie listens to the two, her gaze lingering more on Merrisol than on Ryika for part of it. Curling her legs up after kicking off her boots, she tucks her sock-covered feet up beneath her and leans a bit toward Merrisol. "See...? That's the thing... People are people. You have to take them as they are. For one thing, I don't see you as the sort to just... accept harsh or cruel treatment. You are not the kind of person to just... take it. But... Since people are people and we are all on the stubborn side, I think that what we are both offering is a sort of pressure release mechanism. What is that called, Kerf? On your boiler dealies? In the lab?" Because of course there is a lab. Then? Settled with her coffee and baklava, with her husband beside her, she falls silent to listen to the discussion as it progresses.

"Steam valve," Merri supplies for Maggie with a smile, and nods agreeably over the idea that they are both there for Ryika. "In times of crisis and crisis overlap," he qualifies drolly, for there is no 'in between', really. "I know you to be phlegmatic and to err on the side of caution when speaking your mind, which accounts for your diplomatic achievements," he adds, apparently not of the same opinion as his spouse, although it amounts to the same offer. He leans just a little into Maggie in return, supporting her. "And which is why those admissions of frustration do tend to stand out in recent memory. I'm glad to know they are well-spread out amongst the deserving. ." As a man with numerous woman friends who enjoy living life dangerously, it must be his natural inclination. Or else he'd be driven utterly mad by now. Truly.

"Well, and I have to admit, I am perhaps a touch less cautious about holding my tongue when chatting privately with my amnesiac parents." Ryika smiles a touch. "It's absolutely true that one has to have some outlet, or it just explodes in a haze of messy. I appreciate the offer, I hope that I don't have to take you up on it all that often, but it's reassuring to know that I can. ." She smiles then and then chuckles softly. "."

Maggie smiles a private sort of smile when Merri leans close to support her the way he does. He wins a grin, fleeting, warm, devoted. Looking back, she nods, "I am glad that you are welcome in Rebma as well. Otherwise, we would have had to fix you up with a cabin on the Wave Dancer and meet clandestinely under moonlight in distant seas." She refrains from waggling her brows, but the notion that the expression is required is embedded in her tone. Then she draws in a breath, her expression going from mock-conspiratorial to stunned. Lowering the cup of coffee to it's saucer, she expels some of the breath in a soft, "Huh." That is followed by, "You know? ." She winks at her friend and amnesiac daughter-person, then lifts a smile to Merrisol, "And... ?" Looking back, she can almost keep her expression sober long enough to say, "."

Although Merrisol cannot personally speak for the rest of Rebmanity, it will probably be okay. . The Royal Family may corner the market on Strangeness, but Rebmans enjoy a fair holding in Oddity.

"Mmn.. yes. ," Merri says, before popping his own baklava into his mouth finally, as a reward for being sensible and not at all strange.
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Ryika laughs warmly. "Meeting on the ship under moonlight in distant seas sounds really rather delightfully cloak and dagger, all in all." She grins brightly, taking a drink from her own almost forgotten coffee. "." She takes a deep breath. "Alright, so that was /my/ news, but I was just going first. What's up with you two?"

Merrisol settles back against the curved bulkhead, drawing Maggie with him so she stays tucked along his arm and shoulder. "I already had broached the topic of the mirrors prior to the encounter with the deteriorating hulk in the current. There had just been one unanswered query that I hoped you could answer, Ryika, and that is whether it is possible for only one enchanted mirror in Rebma to have been infected. Would that once instance have given the shadow predator access to various other, if not all magic mirrors?"

"I don't think it's a specific mirror." Ryika answers thoughtfully, a touch of a smile at the casual affection between the pair. "I think it's a creature trapped, purposefully or accidentally, within mirror space. Which will drive them insane. So then.. yes and no?" She mmms thoughtfully. "It fits what we know so far better than the notion of one mirror going bad. Then again, it's my theory, so I'm unreasonably attached to it."

Merri's brow lifts. "So, from what you've observed, it needn't be related to the runaway bits of Black Water at all. That /would/ save me the trouble of trying to draw a line between all the other instances of corruption, to triangulate on its origins," he muses. "Now that Quinlan and his specially-attuned nose is here, that may not be necessary, either."

"I can't say for certain. The timing is suspect. I more am wondering if something, or someone got corrupted, possibly by bits of black water, and then ended up in the mirrors." Ryika finally reaches for her last bit of baklava, saving it as long as her patience could hold out. "And from there, went mad, and now is striking out with an animalistic sort of survival instinct."

Merrisol considers Ryika in silence for a long moment, and not because another baklava has disappeared forever. "That never occurred to me," he admits. "It's a sight more awful to think a sentient has actually been infected. I've not yet classified that formless mass from yesterday, but the other organisms infected had been simple and mindless.. fungus and microscopic plant colonies. And Vialle.. did she get the same impression when she looked?"

"The feeling of having one's life being sucked out of them by something stalking them isn't a huge jump to various flavours of awful." Ryika notes quietly and savours the bit of baklava, not letting a single flake of honey soaked pastry get away. "Vialle and I both got to similar senses of there being /something/ there. I never get a sense of a person, or that sort of machinations, more instinctual sort of predatory."

He grimaces briefly in apology and shakes his head. "No, of course not. I'm glad this beast had been foiled by Corwin and Enid, and that you have recovered from those attacks, Ryika." After some thought, he notes, "That predatory hunger is a common characteristic held by the other contaminated organisms. The mold in the forge sought and fed on metals. The algae bloom above the lost city chased after the sub, I believe for its nitrogen supply. And that blob simply absorbed everything in its path."

"I am too. Especially the first time, caught out by surprise, I don't want to think about what might have happened if Corwin hadn't been there to grab me. But! He was." Ryika mmms thoughtfully and nods. "There's nothing to exist /on/ in the mirrorscape, it would make sense that if it was something living, it would want life.. or energy. Or potentially my magic. I hadn't considered that."

Merrisol nods, but looks stymied at the moment to speak further on the mirror subject. "I don't know if there's a way Quinlan can.. sniff the presence of chaos, in your mirror. Suppose there's one way to find out." He pauses. "Unless Corwin has confirmed it already?"


- - - - - - - - - -


Merrisol sensibly waits until after dinner to ruin peoples' appetites and announce that the amorphous jelly mass had been a wad of.. skin. The sloughed hide of some as yet undiscovered aquatic beast. Mmmm. Custard tarts, anyone?

Miriam looks a little ill, as it's explained what that stuff was. "Ew." is all she says on the matter.

Just before the meal and enlightening news, Ruby had undertaken a vigorous workout, followed by a short interlude of intentional swimming (ie: bathing), and then a rather lengthier amount of time laying on her back and drying off (ie: sunbathing). Starfish-like, She simply gazes into the sky until gull passed overhead and gave her reason to blink and thus push her reset button. But as such, one can only soak up the rays for so long before ships get underway or things come to pinch and investigate if Ruby is a meal.

Indeed, some non-Rebman ships had been spotted straying closer to the Cabra Lighthouse, and the Solar Flare had made preparations to sink out of sight. Somewhat oddly secretive behavior, it also explains why the discovery of the drowned Amber man had been credited to a nameless boat in the Rebman Navy rather than the sub. A quick headcount had been taken, which led to locating and coaxing Ruby back below.

Maggie tilts her head to one side just a bit, "Um. Could you tell whether the original creature was a deep-sea denizen or a surface beastie? Was it a cave dweller or foraged out and about? Can you even know such things based on skin?" She flickers Miriam a quick, sympathetic smile.

Mr. Lockwood is distributing coffee around the table to those still gathered. The crew tends to listen in with the group when they aren't seeing to ship operations, and this talk of body organs moving independently of their former owners is a novelty worthy of putting in a letter to the folks at home.

Merrisol nods to Maggie. "The cellular structure of the skin provided enough clues that I can say it is a creature of the deep, normally capable of withstanding great pressures."

Miriam asks then "Is there any chance it's a creature that sheds?" She has coffee, but has set down her cup. Maybe the subject's made her question her desire for some right now.

Ruby resettles her caboose in her seat while she cleans the spaces between her teeth with a thin bit of bone. She makes quite a varied amount of noises picking and tonguing away at her pearly whites. "Aye...Snake." More thought is put into it and she adds, "Sea snake. Tha's why they live forevah, keep whatsit...re-live-in-atin."

Maggie leans back and lifts her mug to accept more coffee from Mr. Lockwood. She smiles at him, "Thanks." Looking back, she considers the conversation and nods to Ruby, "Snakes do, certainly. I don't know about sea snakes, but suppose they might. Do eels? Though it would have to be a really big one to account for the amount of skin. Right? Also? I don't know of any creature whose skin, once shed, retains locomotion." Looking down a bit then, she murmurs, "I guess we dive, then right? See if we can find any place deep enough for it?"

Merrisol drinks his own coffee without complaint, listening to the discussion make its way around the table, before addressing what he can. "The independently-moving skin is the influence of Black Water, I would guess. All snakes definitely shed, however sea snakes are still reptiles and as such must surface for air every one or two hours. If there was a giant serpent doing so even once a day, I am certain it would have been noticed by now. Some few fish shed.. Eels have been known to throw off their slime coat," he continues after a bit of consideration. "I believe that only happens in traumatic circumstances."

Miriam keeps listening. "Is there anything we have to... do t'this skin? I mean, is't 'dead' now?" She does look disturbed by the whole thing.

Maggie nods, "Oh, right. I forgot to account for the Black Water." Sighing, she frowns down into her delicious, delicious black water drink then sips to take the chill off. Or something. A faint shudder slips through her though and she looks up at Merrisol. Blinking, she sets the cup down on its saucer and settles the pair on the table. Maybe a nice, dry biscoutti... "In any case. What are our next steps? Either here or in Rebma?"

Maggie is about to add to her mostly unhelpful commentary when she gets the look that warns of distant voices. No, not that one. The other one. With a murmered 'Excuse me', she stands and moves away from the table. Behind her several people appear to be clustered around a smallish table in a room that can only be the Solar Flare's galley. Smiling, she replies, "Morning, Raphaela. May I offer you some coffee?" Maggie is wearing a beach-style robe all synched up and tied securely.

Raphaela never said no to coffee, until she remembers she gave up on it "Err...maybe tea." she looks at the bundle of folks "Interrupting?"

Merrisol nods slowly to Miriam. "Yes, most of it was deteriorating before our eyes. Without adequate sustenance, it dissolves or shrivels away." He stands from his seat as Maggie makes motions to invite Raphaela in. The table is really of a largish sort, capable of accommodating about as many would occupy the cabins. "Good evening, Raphaela," he says civilly, then turns for the kiosk-style galley in the center of the living area to check the kettle water levels. "Nothing has really changed, though. We still seek the /source/.." he says to continue the discussion, and for Raphaela's sense of context. "Which appears to be some great beast of the deep. There are, however, two deep places I know of where manifestations of Black Water have been recorded in the past. One is a hidden citadel in which a death cult used to hatch schemes against Rebma in the name of their Lich Queen. Maggie and I have been there."

Miriam watches Raphaela appear, and smiles to her before nodding to Merrisol's reply. She finally picks up her cup of coffee, to have a sip. "So, th'problem isn't th'skin, exactly. It's that th'creature it came from's probably tainted and has t'be dealt with?"

Maggie smiles at their friend as Raphaela enters. She holds onto the other woman's hand just until Raphaela is steady on her feet, "I'm sure we can come up with tea. Please join us?" As the discussion is of the weird sort, Raphaela should feel right at home! Maggie nods to Merrisol, a wince touching her expression, "Oh, right. That place. A lot of stupid happened there." Shaking her head, she does return to her own seat with the coffee still in the cup, "But, you are right, Kerf. That is not a bad place to look for the source of the taint. What is the other place?" Flashing Miriam a nod, she sobers, "Yeah. Without allowing more of the taint to get into the waters."

Raphaela oddly enough feels right at home "Captain Merrisol, team." she smiles and nods to Miriam. She doesn't offer anything on the subject yet.

Merrisol stands beside the breakfast counter, which makes the rest of the dining space for when the occupancy of the SF is at its fullest. Hot water goes into a large mug to steep Raphaela's tea, then he turns to face the others, and sits on a high chair. "There were plenty of eels in the citadel.. but none the size of what we seem to be dealing with. We left rather in a hurry, however," he frowns. "A retreat through trump, but some of us went by mirror." There's a pause while he glances between Maggie and Raphaela, then says in a resigned tone, "The other place is the Soldieve Deeps."

Miriam is just listening for the moment. Learning what she can, apparently. Meanwhile, she drinks more coffee.

Maggie nods to Merrisol's summary. Tilting her head forward, she frowns faintly at some memory or other when mirrors are mentioned. Tilting her chair backwards a hair, she lifts her mug to drain the liquid within. At the mention of the Soldieve Deeps, her gaze and brows shoot up and she focuses on Merrisol. "I hope it is not... there. But, perhaps we should begin looking there anyway. It seems more... likely than the other, to me."

Raphaela asks, curiously "Soldieve Deeps?"

Merrisol says, "It if is Soldieve, I am not of the mind to take anyone here down there in the SF, on a whim. No one here is trained to deal with what is down there. It will have to be an order from the Lord Marshal himself, for it to come to that." He looks at Raphaela a moment. "If you still want to meet Leviathan, that is where you would go."

Raphaela ahs. And gives him a sidelook "Would you care for my opinion on the matter?" bring mechas! Oh right...

Merrisol invites Raphaela to speak with an open-handed gesture, giving her the floor.

Raphaela says "If you think of it as a real invasion, which it is...it is likely that if blackness didn't attack from both areas in pincer attack, that while stuff happened on one side, it's preparing in the other. Chronology...fits."

Raphaela says "But first...are you certain there is no third option?"

Maggie frowns a bit, her gaze lowering to the table's surface. The cup is ignored in favor of the saucer, which she moves around a bit with a probing, prodding finger. Mechas might be the solution! Unhappiness settles on her brow and lingers even when she lets go of some silent something and looks up, "Lets hope that it is not there, then. Alright..." Listening to Raphaela, she shrugs, "Good point and good question. We could check to see if something is preparing in the other place. Send word to Martin and let him make the call to go to the Deeps. If necessary."

Merrisol listens, but doesn't look in agreement with Raphaela. "I am not certain at all," he replies. "That whole region is complicated by the presence of the Black Road taken hold in Arden.. and I believe in Ennisport. There are also currents that cannot be traced, which run far beneath the crust of the Sea bed. What you call an invasion, has been characterized by infection, mindless and random," he points out after Maggie has spoken in favour of Raphaela's claim. "What chronology do you speak of, Raphaela?"

Raphaela offers "At least scouts to survey surrounding areas for any suspicious activity. First the leviathan attack, troubles in this other part started fairly recently. Infection, sure. Infection rarely strategizes as it did under Kolvir. That was war, and tools used in wars are also plagues. Although I would call this more of guerrilla biochemical warfare. Spread, see where it takes root, attack the weak spots. Ennisport is Caine's domain."

Ruby took way too long to delve into her ortho care. The space between teeth nice and clean. The small bone is tossed to her plate and she laces her fingers together atop the table she's hunched over. "Roight. Tha's what we doo-doo'n roight? We gonna pull'ah root." Comments from the peanut gallery are a go.

Merri indicates Raphaela's tea mug, ready to go whenever she wants to see to it, sugar, milk, and other chemical taste adjustments available on the counter. He walks away from it, rubbing his brow with his fingertips as though staving off a headache. "The former rise of Leviathan was years ago, while, as you pointed out, Amber was at war with the Black Road. I am not seeing the war connection you are drawing to the circumstances of now, unless: You mean how the Tsunami, of which the geophysical disturbance of the Sea bed /does/ coincide with the appearance of these bits and bobs of Chaos, was caused by Benedict's demise in Rebma." He pauses, looking at Raphaela from wherever he has ended up in the dining area. "Are you aware of any resurgence of the Black Road around Amber as a direct result of this loss? Intent on striking at a weakened Amber?" he inquires. Perhaps inviting Raphaela to look for war on her own doorstep before seeing it elsewhere.

Raphaela doesn't take the tea, leaning against something she gestures, in a low voice "Benedict for one, as am I, was perfectly aware that war that has started has never ended." even if all seem to have forgotten about it. "As you ask, I am not aware of actual events of such sort around Amber - then again, I'm not in charge of defense and I don't think anyone would share such information with me since my opinion is irrelevant. Rebma is neighbourhood of Amber, it affects Amber and it has a Pattern. It is always good to keep an eye on Rebma. Allies are always strength and weakness combined, worst potential enemy." gestures with other hand "However, we are all perfectly aware, although we tend to neglect the fact that there are people who have been /infected/ in Amber now, on high positions." leaves it at that "On the other hand, Benedict was one nail in our reality that we have now lost, for one reason or another, intentional or not. It would be foolish not to use such opportunity. Tsunami was worst damage on the Amber since there is memory that followed right after." she looks at Merri for a moment "whether intentional or not. I will trust your judgement on that one. But it certainly did as much damage as an attack." and there is no lack of people manipulating elements out there, she shrugs "They tried to attack Amber directly before and failed. Why would they do it again without weakening it first. Bit by bit." she shrugs "Then again, I might be paranoid. Because I'd apply such tactic."

Maggie pushes a bit of pastry closer to Merrisol's position in case he wants to sooth his apparent impending headache with sugary-goodness. There are more pastries being set out for desert around the table so everyone can have some. Leaning back, Maggie looks from Merrisol to Raphaela. Her attention lingers there as she parses her friend's concerns into packets for consideration. Frowning, she turns the mug once between her fingers and sets it down again. "It... would not hurt to send scouting parties. They would not have to go to either location, really. Just see if there is evidence of the infection emanating from either. Or both. It might save us some time in tracking things down to their source." Looking up again, she makes a faint gesture of apology for bringing the focus of the discussion back down once more.

Going by Merri's transfixed look and the way he lowers his arm the rest of the way while Raphaela covers Life, the Universe, and Everything in her reply, he has just been soundly reminded of a few things he ought not have forgotten... regarding the overall situation or about Raphaela herself? Well, his expressions aren't /that/ transparent. He exhales quietly, lines of focus creasing around his eyes while he ponders her. "Given the political maneuverings in the Palace, you could also say it is an inconvenient temptation for Amber's enemies to strike now in so obvious a fashion and call attention to what has been willfully overlooked." He glances over at Maggie then, and offers his hand to her far shoulder if she would care to sidle a bit closer. "Of these isolated incidents throughout Rebma.. they do have a pattern. It is predatory in nature. The latest discovery points to the source being a monstrous, corrupt beast. It /would/ be foolish to think that was the only thing shaken free by the Tsunami. The investigations will continue," he agrees, in the end.

Raphaela says "It could be one more thing."

Merrisol regards Raphaela, waiting for the rest, but she's gone back into conservation mode. He nods slowly.. "Whichever, it will revive the Regent's programme for military training against chaos-tainted troops, which had gained momentum during the threat of war with Corwin, but apparently dropped along with that threat."

Raphaela nodnods, "Yes." she pauses and then says "Two explanations, for what you previously pointed out. One is, again, diversion. The other one is that creations such as biological weapons tend to take life of their own." she looks at her pocketwatch as she continues "If you have a problem you want to hide, while strengthening your own authority, make a puppet and fight heroically against it. That is one explanation for existence of discrepancy. Two is: infection can be a weapon that was unleashed but is not currently under control. It might be going wild and evolving without any intention behind it at this point. Opportunity arises now and then." tsunami "...but we should keep in mind that even if that is the case - if this mutated creation causes a hole in defenses, there might be someone waiting on the other side to exploit the gap." she looks at her watch again. "I have to go, thanks for the tea..." which she didn't have. she looks at them "Deal first with the possibility that can cause most damage if left unattended. Basically." seriously. What exactly IS going through that brain.

Ruby has been riding happily along in the caboose of the conversation. Half of what is said sounds like arguing, but no one is using curses. And the other half sounds like some sort of intentional brain exercise. Torturing things that can't flex. At least not in the physical sense. All strange. She eyes Merri, Raph and Maggie in turn.

The gamut of advice does seem to be missing Ruby's offering this time around. Find it and punch it in the face. What if it /is/ just that easy? Merrisol is still muddling through the complexities of Raphaela's latest batch of thoughts, and just nods a you're-welcome for the tea now getting over-steeped and tepid on the counter. She wouldn't want it anymore, anyway. "Right. Suppose we'll have occasion to talk again soon, Raphaela," he says in farewell. "Take care."

Raphaela says "Just wanted to tell all on my mind. In case we don't." she flashes a brilliant smile at Ruby "Sorry I totally interrupted your meeting with my ravings. Rude beyond belief." seriously. popping in. listening to two sentences and since then, just spilling out at poor people. She rubs her brow with a heh and waves, heading out of the room to trump out.

Maggie sidles closer to Merrisol when given the offer of his hand on her shoulder. The conversation's sobering effect leaves her a bit out of her depth and stunned. While Raphaela's tea goes vertical, she considers her own coffee. Leaning a bit against him, she slips her free arm about his waist. "Good advise. So. What is the most dangerous of our little projects? The chaos infected creature, I would say. Though the investigation into Lord Ygrayne's murder might be right up there. From... a political standpoint anyway."

Merri turns back to those still present around the table after Raphaela takes her leave. He squeezes a bit when Maggie breaks through all the chaff of things they cannot even begin to investigate, and refocuses on their actual goals. "The Ygrayne murder inquest is not on my plate," he notes, then looks directly at the artist-smith, "although as Maggie has already offered, you need only ask if you need anything, Ruby." He pauses, thinking. "It.. would appear there is not just the one large creature. There is a being lurking through what Ryika has called mirrorspace, to track down. She thinks it might be a poor mage who became infected and mad, unable to escape through mirrors." He shrugs a little, baffled and quietly horrified over the concept. "On the other hand.. upon mentioning the Citadel and the travel mirror commandeered by Lady Enid and Queen Vialle, I'm back to the other theory, and imagining the same creature waste and tissues we've been dealing with got into that mirror in the Lich Queen's tomb, and traveled to others from there. As far as I know that mirror hadn't been destroyed or neutralized on that side."

Maggie flashes Merrisol a quick, warm smile at the squeeze. There is a hint of relief in her tone, or some other reassurance. Nodding, she turns back to Ruby as well, "I am not sure that I will be allowed to help, but we can but try. Right?" Right. "Though I had better review what is currently known before heading down there with you. And... uh... I should probably take gear as I don't think anyone will want Kerf around kissing me every so often." Other than her, but that probably goes without saying. "Or is the scene of the crime within the enchanted waters?" Oh, but then something else said hits her straight between the eyes and she turns to look up at Merrisol, "Wait... Wait." Looking down again, she finally reaches for her coffee. "Wait. That mirror..." Her eyes close as she tries to visualize... "That mirror that Martin went into to do battle with the Lich Queen. Wasn't there someone else in that mirror? A mage of some sort?"

"Martin didn't use the mirror himself, Hotstuff.. he fought the necromancers and undead in the coliseum of Emor, to capture it for us," Merrisol reminds. "It did lead to the place where the Lich Queen was entombed, but we made that journey from the controlled conditions of the Rebma Embassy. It was down the lower levels from the tomb where we found Lord Evadyr in communion with Black Water agents. After your Feldane brother stabbed himself to help the Lich's soul depart this world, you had to trump him to the city. Quinlan and I had to retreat with the traitor from a quantity of Black Water, back through the mirror. I do not know what became of that place or the mirror.. it's something I should ask Lady Enid or Queen Vialle about." There's some perfectly good chairs at the table, so Merrisol shows Maggie into one and takes the one beside. He snags up one of the sugary crunchy desserts and tries to relax.

Maggie listens to Merrisol's summary and her frown deepens. Her lips part. She looks over at Merrisol. She frowns more and looks down. Lifting her hand, she begins to drum her fingers on the table, the staccatto rhythm repeating, repeating, repeating, stopping. Finally, she sighs and lifts her coffee. Taking a long sip, she stares over toward the door, then looks back again. Finally, she sighs and reaches over to snag a pastry. Tearing off a corner, she dunks it into her coffee and nibbles. While it does not let her relax exactly, the flavor mingled with the 'fiene centers her. Or, perhaps it is that Merrisol is sitting closely beside her. Lowering her voice, she murmurs something to him so quietly that it does not carry.

Merrisol slows his crackling and munching of the infernally loud biscotti, and takes to watching Maggie carefully while she fidgets, troubled. He leans over a bit to listen to her murmur, and replies softly with curiosity and concern.

Ah, biscotti... So munchably crunchable. Until dunked for a while into coffee... then just delightful and delicious. Maggie dunks hers and lets it sit a while to soak up the black bean brew. But, she does not bite it. Not immediately. Leaning over to listen to Merrisol's concerned reply, she does not quite meet his eyes. Then she does. Lifting the soaked but not yet soggy cookie to her mouth, she sucks on the end of it while confusion, consternation and concern play through her expression. When that bite has been safely swallowed, she leans over to murmur once more.

Merri watches the process with the dipped biscuit, and slowly reaches over to pull his own coffee mug over to his new place setting. He plunks the remainder of his hard toasted dessert into it, and lets it soak. Ahem. The moment you realize you've been using the snarfblatt wrong all this time. He listens to Maggie again, thinks, and murmurs reply.

Maggie is almost distracted by Merrisol's shifting coffee. She even almost smiles because there it is. The snarfblatt being put to the use it was intended for in the first place. It makes such an enormous difference... Going from good but strange to amazing. Tilting her head a bit, she listens and this time, it takes her less time to reply. Though the frown on her brow eases some, the concern behind it does not. Mutter mutter murmer sigh. Biscotti in coffee. helps everything.

- - - - - - - - - -

Quinlan has found a quiet corner to set up camp in. Which, for him, means setting the bookbag out of the way of walking feet, laying down his cloak...and curling up on it as a fox. Traveling mages don't need much bunk space.

Good stuff.. since the number of guests lately has amounted to precious little cabin space available. Merrisol walks through and quiets his steps upon seeing the sleeping red critter. The good thing about being able to retreat to a real bunk is the escape from the various whirrings of clockwork throughout the work spaces and the *bings* from all the devices that go bing! When he does see that Quinlan is awake, the sub commander wonders, "Quinlan.. were you in Amber during the last real war with the Black Road? When Levianthan rose in Rebma?"

The fox raises its head. "No," it says without moving its lips. "I arrived quite a bit later. After the damage was done, so to speak. I take it this Leviathan is what got loose?"

Merrisol considers the question. "I don't believe so.. at least, not yet. If it had, Rebma would probably not still be standing. That huge amorphous blob.. the pieces of which you were sniffing earlier, has turned out to be the shed skin off some very large chaos-corrupt beast from the deep, however. If it is come up from the Soldieve Deeps, an abyss choking with Black Water, where Leviathan is said to dwell.. it could mean bad things to come."

"Hard to see how it could be foretelling cake and liquorice, true," agrees Quinlan. "...Maybe the Kraken? Or is that a different legend?"

Merrisol looks curious. "Ruby sometimes speaks of the Kraken, or a Kraken.. A legendary figure from her home waters, I would guess. It's a giant octopus or squid of some sort, I gather. They are not known for shedding their skin, however. A whole limb, yes.. the contact suckers, yes." He thinks a moment. "Eels throw off their slime coats in times of great stress, though. A Tsunami would fit that bill."

"Tsunami is effect, not cause," Quinlan notes. "Something shakes up the waters, to cause the tsunami. Earthquake, something *big* moving..."

Merrisol is talking to a small red fox curled up on a bookbag stowed against a wall, while the Solar Flare toodles through the middle depths, over a blighted stretch of kelp forest. "Yes.. right. In this case, it was some kind of shock from the Rebma Pattern, when Prince Benedict perished." He pauses, hunkered down with his arms resting across his knees. "Not that I /felt/ anything physically out of the ordinary at the time, even with the commotion in the Pattern chamber. Only accounts of waters fleeing away from the Amber docks around that moment... then returning in a huge wave."

"Magical shock is still shock, I suppose," the fox replies. "Of course, the magic could've hit something else on its way out and THAT is what we're seeing, too."

Coming around the corner and into the area, Maggie has her hair tied up into a fox-tail that sits high on her head and sways behind her. The shirt she wears is flannel and tucks casually into the waistband of her jeans. "Kerf? I was..." Spotting the small fox, she shifts focus and the smile she offered Merrisol expands to include her cousin, "Hey, Quin. I didn't realize that you were still here. Or are you back?"

Martin hasn't been living on the sub, but he has been back and forth and generally making himself available. He's found a place to loiter and watch the deep blue through the viewport. Probably thinking about something really grand. Or maybe about what he's going to have for breakfast tomorrow morning.

Merrisol nods slowly. "I suppose that it was. Magic-quake," he samples the word to himself. "Shortly after, the Regent predicted an incursion." What? Even if Martin might be thought either deep or lackadaisical at any given moment, Merrisol doesn't see anything wrong with outting him as a concerned and wise ruler. Also, he doesn't see him over yonder, pondering the Sea. "Raphaela's opinion is this is an invasion, whether deliberate or not to start."

He pauses, and looks up to see Maggie come upon them, and smiles at her. He straightens up carefully in the passage, and takes a step to the side so Maggie can greet the two-tailed fox cousin. It's actually a good thought to take on the smaller of one's two forms aboard a submarine, although this one is more spacious in general than a conventional one of the same dimensions would be. "We are on a northerly heading, approaching the stretch of coastline between Amber and Ennisport," he informs them. "I have given the area a wide berth before, and the maps are understandably dodgy, but the Soldieve abyss should be several miles offshore, there."

The fox's jaw drops in a grin at Maggie. "Never left," he says. "And I'm curious, now, as to what's gotten loose, and why, and what we can do about it. I owe Rebma some of my time and attention, I think. I've been much too distracted lately."

Martin ambles over, wise ruler that he is and stands just off to the edge of Merrisol's peripheral vision. "Worst case scenario." He muses. "Hello Quinlan. Good to see you again. Suppose you know all the news by now." He wiggles his fingers at Merrisol. "You may need to stock up or gather some more from the hold." More of what, he doesn't say... seems like he figures the answer is obvious. "Going to the Soldieve Deeps is dangerous." He cautions. "There are things there that sleep. Things that we don't want to wake up. Leviathan is asleep for now, somewhere down there and likely won't rise again until the End of Days. I've been thinking of the caves. That system may likely extend to the Deeps."

Maggie settles next to Merrisol, one hand slipping about his waist for a quick half-hug. Listening, she lifts a brow just a bit when their destination is named. The deeps. Dangerous, singular, mysterious to a top-sider. "How long until we arrive?" Her attention turns back to the two-tailed one. "Good. I expect we will need your expertise before this is over." Turning to look back at Martin as he seems to appear out of nowhere. Or, sidle up from back there. Same thing sometimes. "Hey, Martin." Lifting her gaze to the viewport Martin recently abandoned, she slmost shudders but does not comment on the inspiration for it. Instead, she tilts her head to one side, "Caves? Well, that would be at least marginally consistant with what Kerf found when looking at the creature's cellular structure."

"The Great Labyrinth..?" Merrisol nods. "It's said the caves are everywhere, and possibly all connected, deep within the substrata. If there's something loose down there...? It could easily slip into the area of the capital as well." Ugh. Then it is a possibility too and bears looking into. He looks at Martin expectantly. "Do you know it for certain, Martin? That Leviathan sleeps. I do not intend to enter the Deeps, only.. to locate them and confirm the area has not seen damage from the tidal wave or what magic preceded it," he says, with a nod to Quinlan. "Has that study already been conducted by others?"

Again, that fox grin. "I doubt it. Pathi would've had to come to terms with Rebma. Pathi baaaarely came to terms with Amber; I'd guess Pathi sails the seas well away from Rebma's heart. But I could work on it if you want. Walk around Rebma, to the edges of the waterbreathing, map what I can sense of its underground."

Maggie frowns as she listens, her gaze lowering a bit. Occasionally she glances up to take in one or another of the speakers. Finally, as Quinlan makes his offer, Maggie nods, "That would be a great idea, Quin. Though, Martin? Is there a map of the caves in the Archives?" She focuses on that cousin, her look pointed and rather intent. "Because if not? Wow." Stepping a bit to one side, she lowers her arm from around Merrisol's waist. Her hands tuck into her pockets and she again looks out the viewport, "If there is a system of caves under Rebma... I wonder if they match those under Kolvir. And, if they are as extensive as that..." Shaking her head, she flashes the men folk an expectant look but does not elaborate.

"Well.." Martin finds a spot to sit. "Let me put it to you this way. If it was awake, we'd have a much bigger problem on our hands. Leviathan sleeps in the deepest parts of Soldieve." When Quinlan speaks of mapping the caves using magic he frowns faintly. "I'd watch out doing that. A lot of the caves below the city have protection spells. You might trigger something. I don't think it'll be easy but you have Court Favor so you shouldn't run into any problems but I strongly suggest you have Merrisol or Maggie with you. I can give you a temp badge of some kind in case you run into any issues. There is not, Maggie." He shakes his head.

Quinlan nods. "All right. And I can smell magic. If it comes down to it I can just put 'here be nasty magics' and let that part of the actual map stay fuzzy."

Merrisol listens quietly while the others talk. He takes note of Martin's replies to both his cousins.. er, their cousins.. however it goes, and makes no comment, except.. "Quinlan.. you're talking about that Earth Magic.. scrying.. ability? What you applied to the Minosian seabed to help pinpoint likely masses that could be the SF?" He smiles over the memory. "Very interesting sort of practical magic."

Maggie stares at Martin for a few moments before her eyes flip to Quinlan and she nods, "I'll go with you, Quin. I can back you up on the magic smelling. Might also mark if you sense taint." Taking a step back, she shakes her head, "I can't believe that the caves have not been mapped. Though... I guess if they are potentially filled with traps and so on. It makes it harder."

Maggie turns a quick smile to Merrisol at the memory that rises though she does not comment on it. Instead, she looks again to Quinlan, "When do you want to tackle it?"

Martin says, "It goes without saying that any info gathered... well. isn't public use. Ah, damn. Got a trump call one sec." He pauses, nods, "Be with you in a minute. I've got to take this one guys be back in a couple. I suggest heading there slowly, Merrisol. Don't draw attention."

Quinlan mmms, a curious sound from a fox's muzzle. "Soon as we can get there, I guess," he says. "This sounds like it really needs to be done, at least preliminary work. And Rebma capital isn't exactly small. It'll take time to see what I can map."

Merrisol glances at Maggie. "The visible Seabed is vast and difficult enough to map accurately due to the constant pull of currents.. now imagine a dark, cold maze several hundred feet still deeper, beneath the crust. That said, I am certain there have been attempts. If the Houses have commissioned ventures, or have their own access points, they don't announce it." He pauses to look at Martin gone off on his call, and nods a little. "I'll accompany you as well, when the time comes," he adds, before turning to head further into Ops and get Cristholm to adjust their speed and depth, thereafter occupied.

Maggie nods to Martin as he heads off. Agreement that the information needs to be kept quiet. If any. She turns to Merrisol and listens, a blush touching her cheeks, "I do understand the difficulty, Only. It just hit me that this means that there is a great, vast unknown below Rebma that could potentially be used to access the city and no one really knows how far it extends or anything. It... hit me badly. I did not mean to imply that anyone was remiss." She watches him head back to Ops and sighs a bit unhappily. Turning to Quinlan, she attempts a smile, "Thanks for being willing. I'll talk to you later, okay? I think I need to find a place to chill. Something about this has me on edge." Lifting her hand, she waves as she turns to head down toward the crew commons and, perhaps beyond.