Into the Wastes

[rassafraggin]

There's two types of readily visible airships at the top of the cliffs: Military and Civilian. The first is kinda off limits to the public or tourists for obvious reasons. The second is available for appropriate payment of passage of persons or cargo. As luck would have it, there is a one such dirigible that's finished loading provisions destined for another location in realm that goes by the charming name of Outpost Zeta that is on the fringe of Eschalon-guaranteed safety. The flight plan also happens to be crossing the bay and would give a birds eye view of the territory, land and sea.

The airship has two gangways up into the crew compartment while it stays tethered to the cliff. A large section of the belly is a cargo hold with massively menacing bomb-bay doors. Enough to swallow platforms of crates and livestock if need be. A refueling tower kisses the nose of the airship with snakey coils of vapour escaping from between the seals. There are eight engines in total that jut out on skeleton frames and have tendrils of cables connecting it to the frame and within where the innards hold fuel and hydralics. It drones and buzzes as the pre-flight checks are done. The Captain of the ship is there beneath it to welcome those purchasing passage. He's got a wide smile and five o'clock shadow.. Tight pants, silk scarf and a sheik leather jacket that contains his personal ballast beergut. The ticket-taker next to him is cadavorous and wears utilitarian jacket and slacks and a hat the shades his skeletor-thin facial features.

Ooooooh boy! Ooooooh cor blimey! It's happening, it's gonna happen! Upon arrival to the dirigible landing platform, Sidonie has been agog, like a kid staring into a window with a shiny red bike inside. She grips the strap of her pack, slung around her shoulders, eyes jumping to all aspects of the aiship loading and refueling setup. She takes in the captain, in particular the silk scarf, and places a hand on her throat, considering the fashion accessory for her own ensemble. Too gauche, maybe?

The berths for the blimps and such bear places to buy billets and book passage nearby. The kind of operation that only requires a stand and a hand on one's hat while business is done. The gusts up here are formidable. Great for fluttering scarfs and capes. The one airship nearly ready to leave has a lovely arched foot slipping out of a winged sandal with a name stenciled into her back stabilizer fins: Gertrude.
Once the crawler lurches onto the private-commercial dirigible outcrop, Merri studies the range of options and declares them to be viable for their purposes. The doors let them out onto the platform, and he draws several breaths of the colder, thinner air. "I'll get us passage on that one," he gestures beyond the safety barriers crosses, waving the otheres on towards the Zeppelin's master while he stops in at the control shack to make the deals.

Ruby has to find her way up the cliff through much the same way that the others have. She's some minutes behind and not pleased by the method of transport. Ruby audibly curses the whole way, her voice getting muffled and enhanced by the accoustics.

Maggie arrives not far behind Merrisol and Sidonie's crawler. It moved a little more slowly, though perhaps also more smoothly. When it comes to a stop and the doors hiss open, then clank to either side, Maggie steps out to survey the platform. Her hat wobbles on her head as a stray bit os wind tugs at it. One hand lifts to hold it firmly in place and she steps to one side to allow others time to exit the cliff-clanker. A long shudder takes the kinks out of her back and she inhales, the bracing air giving her a bit more color. "That was... an adventure."

Mercier steps out of the lift, a few people behind Maggie, dusting off his bowler as he does so, before slipping it back on his head, looking at the airport and the great ships moored there. He gives a little contented smile. There's no part of him that looks quite surprised or amazed, but he certainly looks happy enough to be there, "Finally, a civilized way to travel." His smile falters briefly, and he lets out a sigh, that happy little moment driven away by some brand of resignation.

Sidonie nods to Merrisol, and turns to look at the recently arrived trio of Ruby, Maggie and Mercier as they step out from the crowd. "Good day!" she says to them, her face is alight with excitement, eyes twinkling from behind the thick lenses of her glasses. "Ain't it, though? You ever flown, Mister Templeton?"

A small gang of grease monkeys run to do some final tweaks to the engines that are at head height. There's a few passengers already embarking after greeting the buoyant Captain and his deadly serious partner. They look the wealthy sort. Their frills or hats flapping in the breezes as they march carefully up to the crew compartment. There are large windows along the side of that place, with thick glass and reinforced steel. Components and whirly gigs are attached to the hull serving as instrumentation or some technological esoterica. The craft has had some use, as there's scoring and weather-beaten parts of it. But it does appear ~whole~ and makes a consistent noise.

Whatever Merrisol has to do - empty his pockets, surrender a couple of his own doohickeys, quick-fix the office mimeograph - he emerges from the building with a fistful of flight passes. Striding to catch up with the others, he looks pleased to see almost just about everyone made it up the cliff face. "We're on the Gertrude," he confirms, looking around for the stencil... "That one. She's passing over the bay and should be tracing some coast before making for an outpost.. Zeta. More or less lines up a good view of the waters." Does he really expect to spot a large horned whale dipsydoodling around the poisoned waves? Spotting the captain and boarding attendant, he makes sure everyone's got their pass before going ahead to greet their hosts.

Ruby frees herself from the conveyance and once she's got cliff turf under her feet, meets the gazes of those she knows if she catches them. She's minus anything too extraneous. Hat has been replaced by a bandana that caps her head and lets her dreads flap about in a trio of pigtails-conglomerations. Looking more like a pirate than a buttoned down Captain. She eyes her pass and then eyes the airship. She shudders.

Maggie walks with a measured step toward Ruby and Merrisol, arriving at about the same time he does. It is a strange thing, but the understanding that neither land legs nor sea legs truly prepare you for the wobbliness of cliff-crawler legs. No-sir-ee-Bob. Nope. So, to try to maintain a bit of grace, she does not stride, but aims to glide. It gives her a faintly duck-like air, but she does not tumble down the cliff, so that is to the good. Luckily, it does not take very long before her gait adjusts and she regains her land stride. Accepting her pass from Merrisol, she nods, "Thanks." Catching Ruby's manner, she smiles up at the taller woman. Not to offer encouragement, no, but to bask in shared courage and determination. "Let's do this."

Mercier gives a nod to Merrisol as he approaches, glancing over to the airship in question, accepting the pass, "Do let me know what I owe you?" The merchant asks with a grateful nod, slipping it into his coat. Eyes travel to Ruby for a moment, "Looking a bit green, Incarnate." He says, with a concerned tilt of his head, "No need for that. If they were terribly unsafe, there wouldn't be so many." To Sidonie's question, he starts to answer, then gives himself a little laugh, "A bully question that, in Amber. But, yes, before I came here, I'd taken many trips. Must better then a ship, in good weather, I say." He gives a sad little smile, "I was thinking of what my sister might say at them."

Sidonie accepts her ticket from Merrisol with a smile, looking like their cliff-crawler ride only jacked up her enthusiasm up to 11. She gives Captain Incarnate a reasuring pat on the arm, and a grin at Maggie's gumption. Sid, for one, is looking forward to some derring-do in the air. She tucks the ticket into her vest pocket. "Your sister, Mr. Templeton?" she says, sobering her tone just a bit, noting the sad smile.

The team of last minute mechanics all caper away from the engine after one more lugnut is given a good crank. They hunch low as they hurry to the fueling tower and haul on levers to cut off the fuel. And then bodily haul and shove the fuel-arm and tower on a swivel away from the craft.
The Captain cups his hands around his mouth. "Miz and Surs! The sky ca-aaaaalls! Yes! Ha ha!" He's got the voice of Brian Blessed and the fashion of Lord Flashheart.

Merrisol taps Mercier on the shoulder with his own flimsy folded ticket, all punched up one side with machine codes. "We're all rather independently wealthy now, aren't we, Mister Templeton," he drawls. "Just keep your ears and eyes open." Mmm, info-booty. Nodding respect to the booming captain, Merri hands his pass to the attendant and gives the recent tinkering job a lingering study while his companions get themselves up the ramp. He joins them within before lift-off.

Ruby nods with determination. "Aye, let's doo it then. No fear but fear 'o falls, Truth. As long as it stays up, nuthin tah fear." She bobs her head again and offers Mercier more of her green-around-the-gills expression. "As long as there be a purpose tah this, then I doo it." Ruby does as the others to do get their tickets validated and then stalks up the ramp and into the interior that her imagination immediately labels a death trap. She grips solid looking things for a squeeze or shake to verify they're sturdy.

Turning her ticket over to the taker, Maggie tips her hat to the Captain before heading up the ramp. Each of her companions is given a smile and a nod but she does not linger over boarding or the structural stability of their vessel. She slip-slides around the other passengers to claim a post with a view right up next to one of the far windows. If they are going to see what can be seen, she will be in a position to see it. One hand does find a bar to hold onto near the window. Just in case.

Once everyone is aboard the gangway is retracted. There's some parallels with the disembarkation of the airship and naval doings. The controls at the front of the compartment are filled with levers and a nautical wheel. From the ceiling dangle curious cords and dongles that help control ballast and altitude. The Captain has settled himself into his throne. A wide view port is before and below him. Machines go ~bing~. Whirlygigs under glass spin, presumably to reflect the speed of each of the eight turbines. False horizon dials and readouts built into an assortment of metal Tchotchke birds whose beaks open to provide such info be it a com-system or readout. One such goes ~Aaaaaaawwwk!~ as all tethers leave contact with the ground and the massive vessel shears away from the cliffs and contrary winds. This is echoed by the Captain, "Haw haaaaaw! Yes, up and awaaaaaay!" Once the ship is no longer a danger of scalping those on the cliff, the Captain has thrown all eight levers and puts the engines to full power. The turbines are open-mouthed howling constructs and soon enough the vessel is on course.

Rather than get into a seat or station by a window, Merrisol traverses back and forth along the length of the passenger gondola, getting the layout of exits both further into the crew areas and out into the empty. Inquisitive, analytical, but also with a growing sense of intrepid excitement, now that the air is starting to move in wild currents around the carriage, carrying the scent of electrical charge and burning fuel. He pauses by Maggie to watch the lift off alongside his mate, leaning down to look out the same bit of window for a moment, his hand on hers, watching the platform lurching and dropping away. Whoooosh! Ah, the noisy drone of heavy mechanicals churning like their lives depending on it. And they do! He flashes a grin, "Wanna go up front and meet the sky captain?" Though he's going, either way.

What does she look at, there's so much to see! Sidonie has taken a spot by the windows, because of course, and keeps tilting her head to the side to look out, and up to catch what can be seen of the 'cockpit' area during liftoff. Not to mention the squawk-bird PA system! Her eyes are alight as they look about for someone in their posse that shares her excitement, and they fall on Merrisol. She beams him a grin.

Ruby has to stoop to avoid polishing the ceiling with her skull. Feeling like her stomach is being left behind she does a lot of swallowing. She stares through the window, a croaky cricket noise issuing from her throat. "We should 'ave brought suits just in case. Just in case." When they pass high enough to get a blimps eye view of Port, harbour and the fleet at anchor and being tended to, she takes more of a practical interest. Her breath fogs the window.

The whoosh of the air that teases her braide coupled with the lurch as the sky-ship leaves its dock tickles a trepidatious sort of excitement in Maggie's gut. She looks out and back, then down and down as her hand is found by Merrisol's. Looking up at him, she turns her hand to squeeze his, "I would love to." The excitement in her gaze and her tone washes away any shivers spawned by uncertainty. Sidonie and Ruby are found and smiles of encouragement offered. The bounce in her step as she edges away from the window and into the aisle are only partially due to the movement of their craft, "Let's go."

"Perhaps you, Captain. But I am as of yet, still a poor merchant. Until I have time for a bit of laundry, at least. A man has to look his best." He gives a smugly familier smile towards Merrisol. Mercier gives a little nod to Sidonie as they step aboard, following the group if nothing then for propriety's sake, leaning against a railing to watch the lift off occur. There's no awe, but there's certainly a joy, "Yes, my sister. She was quite an airwoman. I remember her talking my ear off about lift ratios and vibration-to-output syncs and..." He trails off, thinking for a moment, "Not as well as I'd like, it seems." He glances down to the ground again.

The Airship passes a grim looking military blimp holding station just within the smog-cover of the Port. Fully obscured before, having gained some altitude, bits of the other craft now become visible for a few minutes. It has deep blue lower section, with biplanes or gliders hung from the underside like lampreys. The upper section is composed of reflective material like tinfoil. It bristles with antenna and ugly cannons. It bears a no-nonsense font declaring it: The Refulgent.

Good old Captain Gustave passes along a courteous greeting to the other airship by speaking into the mouth of a metal albatross. After flicking the beak upwards until the right frequency is achieved. "Ahoy Reflugent! Bravo Zulu. Quite a bit of Goo today! This is the Gertrude passing off your port side...cherubs 4!"

There's a delay of about half a minute and the military airship responds by blarting out a series of thunderous air horns in acknowledgement.

Captain Gustave leans back in his well padded seat and roars with hearty laughter. A sequence of metal avian speakers chirp as they register the auditory signal against the superstructure, akin to a sonar alert in a submersible. There doesn't seem to be a practical need for the goggles that the Captain reseats over his peepers, but he's quite firmly invested as a flyboy. He leans to the right and hauls over a speaker tube. "Vincent?! Fresh vittles and tea if you don't mind!" It's in this motion that he's half turned to view down the aisle behind him. His cheeks flush with excitement, he gives a very big thumbs up to the passengers.

Sidonie flashes Maggie a grin as well as she walks by, then to Ruby. She settles at a spot with Ruby not far to her left and Mercier closeby to her right. Her gaze breaks away from the goings-on by the cockpit to regard Mercier with grave eyes. The use of past-tense with regards to the merchant's sister is not lost on her, and she gives the man a sympathetic look, unsure about what to say. She lets the silence stretch out as they watch the panorama before them, then grips his forearm for the briefest moment. "I look forward to hearing more about her, if you have a mind," she says quietly.

The blare of the military craft shocks her out of her reverie, and Sidonie turns her head to look back at Captain Gustave just in time to see him thumbs-up in their direction.

Merrisol catches wind of Ruby's remarks and looks like he wholeheartedly agrees, and why didn't he think of that? "Just in case," he echoes, nodding, "we sight the whale and there's a chance to dive..." That wasn't what she meant, was it? He is slowed in his mission by the sight of the unfriendly vessel outside the starboard windows, peering at all the visible hardware with a frown, grimacing over the ensuing cacaophony. But he turns when their host laughs and thumbs it all off, and makes his approach with Maggie. "Captain.. if you have a moment now," he says into the cockpit. "I wonder if we could ask you a few questions about the conditions of the land and sea? We're up from the fleet being serviced at port.. Captains Merrisol and Flame." If the jocular man seems agreeable to introductions, he turns a bit to gesture towards the others, offering their names.

Just in case? Maggie turns a weather eye toward Incarnate, a brow arching just a bit at Merrisol's interpretation of the remarks. Her slow nod is an acknowledgement of each possibility, though her gaze flashes to Mercier and Sidonie. Whatever she might have said to either group is lost in their Captain's comments to the military ship and the response given. Hmmm. Studying the other ship and the evidence of still more as she finishes the walk to t he front with Merrisol, she lets her thoughts wander in the back of her mind while greeting the captain, "Good day, sir." Slowly, her initial excitement returns as a hopeful sort of glimmer in her eyes as she waits to see if the man has time for a short Q&A.

Mercier turns his head towards Maggie and Merrisol as they make their way to have a discussion with the cabin, tilting his head to catch the tenor of the conversation above the sounds of air and engines. He gives a little smirk, "The trials of being a commoner, no impressive titles to ply dashing folks with. If I had a penny for every sale I might have made should I have been /magistar/ Templeton." He mostly says to himself, before turning towards Sid, "Oh, I don't think there's much more to tell really. I think I miss her. Or I think I miss home." He says, looking around the airship for a moment, "Yes, I believe there might be something to that."

Short of windexing the window with her nose and cheek, Ruby is rather rivetted to the view below. Her mouth moves as she starts counting hulls. Sid's close proximity has her break off the mental abacus work and give her a amicable nod and smile. At least there are friendly faces all cloistered in the same mad compartment to stave off the anxiety of higher altitude existance. "Never understand 'ow it stays up in tha sky, but I won't question it too closely." She squints towards the cockpit where quite a few controls seem almost logical, if rather numerous. She grunts, "I wonder 'ow this thing does in a storm."

The SkyCaptain swivels in his chair, the belts constraining him only partially secured. "Fellow Captains! Wonderful!" He extends a hand to both Merrisol and Maggie for a shake. "We share so much...tall tales below, high hijinx above, yes? I've seen your fleet and what a stimulous it has beeeeeen. I can tell you the boys in blue have been on high alert with such a displacement of tonnage, yes. But if it is an invasion of ~wealth~? Well...Please doooo! But you have questions...Let me just say first that we should be quite safe from the corruption and corrosion. We may pass over a section of the bay that's suffered a taint, and run parallel to a Zone, but if there is trouble, we'll see it well before it becomes a problem."

A metal bird ~eep eep Breeps~ as the ship passes a marker tower and officially out of the Port's airspace. The Captain depresses a footpedal built into the throne and the craft levels out with a subtle tilting and rocking motion. It isn't long before the vessel is out above the bay. Away from the worst of the smog, the view is impressive. The height and light of the day presents a land in much better detail, both in terms of depth of the coastal waters, and spread of the land.

Sidonie catches Mercier's comment about commoners, and smirks. "Hey now, Mister Templeton. You're looking at one right here. No titles, no name, and I get to fly on an airship with you fine folks." She turns her gaze back down to the view, but continues to address the man. "Offer still stands, such as it is," she says quietly. As for Merri and Maggie, the surgeon sees two very qualified Captains interviewing Gustave, and supposes it's best that she keep turning her eyes to the waters below and see what there is to be seen. "Hot air and magic," Sid half-jokes to Ruby, smiling. "I sure hope we don't have to face a storm on this vessel. I'd picture us getting tossed to and fro willy-nilly." That last bit is said with a bit of a shudder.

Merrisol shakes hands readily, other arm raised to catch hold of a ceiling handrail, for whatever turbulence or tilt affects the ship's equilibrium. He allows a genial smile to grow during Gustave's spiel, though he looks intent on steering the conversation beyond assurances. With a glance at one of the avian com mascots, he responds with a nod, "No doubt it has been worked out earlier on, what altitudes were safe.. what precautions must be taken. Or perhaps you've all grown a bit hardier to compensate," he muses. "I'm particularly interested to see how the wildlife is coping, or might even be bouncing back...? I've noticed sea birds on this side - are there any species migrating from inland with the seasons? And that of the fish."

Listening, Maggie also shakes hands with the captain, her smile growing at the familiar reassurances offered by the gentleman. Rather than chime in with her own questions, s he uses her powers of observation and knowledge of human nature, regardless of Shadow, to guage the verasity of the man's words. As such, she leans against a strut while Merrisol reaches up to hold onto something above. Taking note particularly of any tell-tale changes in coloration, hesitation in intonation or that touch of a stammer she lets her gaze flicker from her husband to their host. A nod is given in support of Merrisol's questions to show that her own interests run hand in hand with his.

Ruby echoes the shudder and bobs her head in agreement. "Aye, a storm...or run intah one 'o them flat squares. They should paint tha outside so it looks like a cloud. Tha'd be clever, right? Course it would. An if this was a proper ship, it would 'ave sails. Not look like a big metal sauwwwsage. Still...we do seem tah be far above trouble. It ain't too...unstable feelin."

Gustave leans forward as much as his straps will allow, propping an elbow on a knee and a finger to scratch his chin. "We can only go so high. There's a queer phenomena when we go too high. We just fall from the sky if we try to visit the stars. It's really quite strange. Ah, but the critters you say? I don't spend much time near the walls, but I gather the animals that can burrow and scrounge from our scraps are the best off. Hardier certainly!" His boisterousness fails some as he adds, "We don't eat much from near the harbour. It's too close to the other side of the bay, Sur. The fish have perished, or wizened some, and gone for deeper waters. We do have a deep-water merchant fleet that is seeking a prosperous location to trawl, but I really think our boats are too looooud and scare away the fishies, yes. Why, I had a notion to drop nets and hooks from ~above!~, you see one c-"

He's about to go on further, when something pipes in over the comms. It's coming in some sort of code. A repeating pattern of brisk dots and then long dashes. The speaker just bleeds desperation somehow. "What the devil..."

Mercier gives shrug to Ruby, "You might think the entire structure's a big sail. It certainly will catch wind, especially if it puts its port or starboard side to leeward. Given the look of our crew, they seem to be the types to put themselvs in enough scrapes to know how to get out of them. I wouldn't be at all worried." He nods to Sidonie, "Noted. I uh..." he shakes his head, and shakes off the topic, "Right yes, quite the commoner for a dashing sea captain." He issues with an underlying good-natured needle.

"Huh," Sidonie murmurs. Haroooo? If her ears could move, they'd be perked up and aimed in the cockpit's direction. She tilts her head behind Ruby so that she's got a clear view of the fore of the airship, squinting, while directing her next words to Mercier. She sounds distracted, but also good-natured, "Just a sawbones that figured out how to turn a wh-- Say, now, you hear that? I wonder what they're up to up there?"
Merrisol eyes the sky captain dubiously over his deep water theory. He starts to shake his head, dude that's not how it works, but there's no gain in lecturing a flyboy about fish. The discussion going on behind him is a bit of a garble in the turbine noise, but he does angle a glance back at Ruby at one point.. and the next thing he knows, the mechanobirbs are trilling a distress signal that would seem to be be multi-universal. After raising his brows at Maggie, he cranes into the flight compartment inquisitively to run his gaze over the sensory equipment for a glimpse of possible source of transmission; from there, he finds a good window to look through for a visual.

Maggie's expression shifts toward dubious, then faintly alarmed at the sky jocky's interpretation of how fish and sea creatures in general react to sludge. Her own focus is on their pilot so she misses the conversation behind them. Her gaze lifts as she draws in a breath to correct the good pilot when the shrill heeeelp meeeee sounds from the mechanical familiars. Her breawth is released in a soft "Oh no," as her eyes lift to meet Merrisol's. She does not try to interpret the Begmanesque controls, trusting Merrisol to work it out. As he moves off to try to pinpoint the trouble, she remains for a moment to speak to the captain, "We will try to help, I trust?" There is a faint edge to her tone as she lingers there, checking to see if the rules of the sea apply in the sky.

Ruby jams a finger into her ear and starts roto-rootering when the code noises start coming stridently from the pitchy speakers. Turning her eyes from the window she peers towards the cockpit. Her brain isn't willing to wrap itself around the idea of a tube-shaped sail and so she offers just a grunt. Rising from her section of the compartment, she looks to Sidonie and Mercier with an arched brow. A ~let's poke our noses in~ kind of gesture. "Aye, If this thing gonna fall out 'o tha sky, we should find out before it does."

The Captain swivels part of the way back to the console and reaches over to increase the gain on the antenna. The passive receptor fills the cabin with the noises in a clearer tone, still recognizable as the equivalent of a maritime distress signal. Gustave seems uncomfortable as he focuses the antenna towards the source of the signal to get an accurate bearing. "Well...Surely someone else will help..." His gut heaves and he stammers. Something that looks like an osciliscope stands in for a range-finger-radar deal. "Ah! Look there, it's close to Zone 3. Awfully close to potential trouble. Could be a trick. Perhaps the signal is bouncing badly off our cliffs even. Yes, could just be a ghost signal." As all good dramatic timings come about, the focused antenna picks up more. A fright-filled voice comes over the comms. "...Requesting assistance! Please! If anyone can hear us, we need immediate assistance! MSV Banshee begging for help!"