Fact takes no heed of human hopes...

[mitochondriaaya]

She sighed softly and reached up to absently massage a temple; no matter how she pieced the facts together one of them remained triumphant above the others. They should not be going to India. No, rather, the man they were carefully hunting should have been caught on Bournes in London. He should never have made it across the Thames and certainly no further than Paris!

No matter the reach and influence that the East India Trading Company still held none of the agents she knew of had even whispered about the mole from parliament. And yet the quarry had eluded them; twice was stretching coincidence, three times and it spelled a grim future for this hunt. There was another hand at work here, there had to be, it was the only factor that would make sense of what she'd observed and encountered in this chase!

But who?

Certainly there were no shortage of enemies to contemplate. She worked for the crown, and the crown was quite the enchanting target, ergo most names of power and discontent had crossed her desk, and her uncle's before her, at one point or another. But who would stoop to spiriting away a functionary?

Who indeed.

That question had spun her mind in ceaseless circles for well over an hour now. It was a sign that she was tired, certainly, that she couldn't pull the details she intended from the papers but instead was mired in these useless chains. Some days she felt as if she hadn't slept well since she was a child and far before she began taking on some of her uncle's work. Information seemed to linger in her head long beyond the point when her body gave in.

She'd get nothing more from the pages before her eyes so with an act of will she dropped her hands from her temples and closed the notebook in disgust. It would be some time yet before she could sleep no matter what biology demanded so she checked her hair and stood from the small desk, swaying slightly as her body registered the movement of flight beneath her.

Ah yes, the air ship.

It was interesting to meet friends that figured so prominently in her Uncle's stories. She knew better, of course she knew better, but she'd expected men of his generation. These friends were still in their prime and she was rather certain that her uncle was quite happy to be back amidst them with the prospect of raising bedlam again.

She'd worry if the idea didn't intrigue her.

And the company, so far, was pleasant. Her uncle would laugh if she admitted such to him!

Speaking of, she cracked her cabin door open to meet her uncle's amused gaze. He knew her well, and damn the man for having more stamina than her even at his age! Biology or no she should have been able to catch him napping at least once! Alas, it was an old, old game with them. "Restless?" he asked, not unkindly.

"A touch," she admitted. "I thought to walk the deck, clear my head before sleeping."

"By all means," he gestured her grandly to the door and...pulled a stool out to set on the deck for himself. He wouldn't pace her, not here where he was convinced it was safe, but they both felt better when she was in eyesight.

She brushed a cheerful kiss against his cheek as she passed him then braced herself for the far cooler air at this altitude. It was bracing, and quite what she needed to clear her mind...or she hoped it would be after a bit of time. She didn't pace; that wouldn't be lady like and it would most certainly be rude to pound out her frustrations on a hapless deck before the night crew. No, rather she drifted in a slow circle. There were plenty of things on this ship, after all, to catch her attention and to study briefly.

Walking the deck in leisure for the first time was quite like walking in a garden; it would be an unkindness to rush the viewing. The entire ship spoke of care and maintenance; it was not overly gilded nor built for show. She rather approved, and the quiet hum of function beneath her boot heels was soothing. By her second circuit she was fiddling quietly with her pocket watch. Taking it apart and reassembling it was another of her soothing habits, the familiar motions helping to lull her further toward sleep.

Yes, this had been the correct decision, the right path, even if the early misses had frustrated her.

Comments

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan wandered up after a while, face and coat stained with grease and gunpowder - the latter of which he was daubing at with a wet rag in order to render it inert. His lovely purple gaze was directed inwards at whatever it was that had gone wrong this time.

It actually took Aya passing him twice before he blinked and offered a picture-perfect bow. "Lady. Have you been here long?"

[mitochondriaaya]

On the first pass she had thought it best to let him be; tempers could be uncertain after a failed experiment and he didn't appear to be injured. On the second she assumed he wanted to be alone with his thoughts...

...the sudden bow, caught in the corner of her eye when she'd been prepared to continue on another round, made her start. Oh. Yes. She smiled and clicked the faceplate of her watch back into place so she wouldn't seem to be fidgeting. "Some time I admit, you seemed to prefer a touch of solitude, I hope I didn't disturb you?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Oh, no. I just didn't notice you." he mentioned, blinking several times, and then tilting his head, "Oh. That sounded worse than I meant it. I get wrapped up in my mind and don't notice things outside of it, sometimes. It is a dreadful flaw."

[mitochondriaaya]

Well, that was...

...yes, she couldn't help but laugh at that. She was quite tired enough that the whole thing seemed quite humorous. "That's quite alright, were it on purpose I'd take it as a compliment to my ability to pace quietly." Sadly, she would just assume it was late and he'd had things go awry!

"Were you able to have everything shut down and stowed properly? I'm quite sorry we rushed you enough to miss the evening meal."

[sliceitwithwind]

"Yes, thank you. We would not leave without everything being safely away, it would be far too dangerous otherwise." He said, blinking, "Although I really ought to eat, oughtn't I? You would think that I would remember that, at least, but I depend on Braig rather more than I should."

He didn't mind, though. He loved the little pirate.

[mitochondriaaya]

"My uncle has mentioned you rarely trust things to assistants," she admitted, slipping her watch in her pocket. "Not even in times when you find yourself rushed?" It could be useful, admittedly.

And he hadn't eaten?! She blinked and then pulled out her own handkerchief to offered forward, "Yes, you very well should. I would offer to fetch you a plate but I admit I have no earthly idea where the galley is."

[sliceitwithwind]

"I am very particular in the way that I like things." Dilan said with a wry smile, falling in beside her and gesturing the direction to go, as they were talking and he had learned not to walk off in the middle of conversations. "I have yet to find someone who does not need me to mark things off with chalk so that they are in the right place, and then chalk gets smudged, and it's all a rather large deal."

Mostly.

"Oh, no thank you. It would never truly come clean again, I go through them by the pound. Mother keeps my dress kerchiefs separate from my every-day ones back on land." He pondered for a moment, "Mother keeps most of my things away from my dress things, really. Apparently something about grease on everything in my wardrobe."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Wax pencil?" she offered in amusement. "Apologies, less than helpful I am aware, but it was the less smearing option. " That she could come up with on short notice. Perhaps a heat sealed marking?

"Next time I'll be certain to ask after you and yours once you have managed a proper meal." She tucked her handkerchief in his hand, regardless. "After the tales from my uncle I was certain to pack extras of my own. May I ask what happened?" She was mainly watching him as it wasn't polite to look elsewhere when speaking, but she would be able to find her way back on her own if necessary!

[sliceitwithwind]

"I tried wax pencils for a while." Dilan admitted, "They tended to melt rather quickly. Or burst into flame. It depended on how close I was to whatever was on fire. Chalk does not do that nearly so easily."

He turned his head to blink at her a bit, then said, "I'm afraid I do not follow. Next time? Oh." he could follow several tracks of conversation at a time, and as she was flitting he could manage easily enough, "It was just a little explosion. Barely even a pop, really, but it was quite bright and startled me, at which point I backed into a shelf and had to catch a jar, which flung open.

"I may be feline, but I am no cat."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Oh dear!" she chuckled softly. At first at the wax pencils and fire bit, and then the wandering into things bit and...was she truly wandering so much? Fussing over the need to pack up, such causing him to skip dinner, it had been rather rude, hadn't it?

"I meant the consequences of our approaching the captain and yourself for transport, nothing more, I'm sorry." She did that when she was tired, and apparently she should have withdrawn from company some handful of minutes ago, but...she wasn't quite tired enough to sleep yet.

He had a jar that..."You keep jars of gun powder near that which might explode?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Of course I do not." Dilan said, blinking at her again, "It is simply that when one is as large as I am, a bit of a stumble takes up a very great amount of space, and my hair tends to have a mind of it's own when it comes to banging into things. I considered cutting it, once, but that made Braig turn frightful colours."

He'd been taken aback by it, he really had. "Oh, never mind that. I often forget to eat and end up with someone either chasing me down or delivering food to my lab. Most often the former, I think my dear friends worry that I will ingest something poison."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Oh dear, your hair!" Aya chuckled. "Did it escape a powdering?" Because that would be quite the ordeal it seemed given how much hair he did have! It was a bit of an adjustment to see such long hair on a man even...it certainly wasn't the fashion in the society she'd been raised in.

"Do you think your captain would be adverse to binding your hair back during work as opposed to cutting it? A series of straps along the length simple to keep it manageable is what many performers do when they are working." And that would hopefully keep the dreads from snagging too many things?

Also: locking jars. She'd have to discuss an appropriate thank you gift for the trip with Nevada, but locking jars were not out of the question.

And...ah yes, oh dear. That would be a common thought around Dilan she was sensing. 'Oh Dear'. "My uncle had mentioned something of such a worry, though I had rather hoped he was teasing! Certainly you've managed not to ingest your lab compounds thus far?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Yes, thank you. The gunpowder simply flew over my coat." and his face, but he'd washed that before so much as stepping foot out of the lab. "I do keep it up, but when there is as much hair as I have..." it still took up rather a lot of space, really.

"Not...in significant quantities?" he said with a bashful smile.

[mitochondriaaya]

"I'm glad you avoided getting it in your hair," she agreed easily. Ah, but, "And what do you propose 'significant quantities' to be?" she couldn't help laughing again.

"Certainly not enough to harm a katzu but...?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"But rather more than any of my loved ones is entirely comfortable with." he admitted with a bit of a grimace, "Mother and father try not to think about it."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Should I inspect your hands before we find you tea?" she was teasing, lightly, he looked rather like he'd washed up properly before leaving his work area. "For their peace of mind I assure you!"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Oh, no. I wear rubberised gloves in the lab." Dilan said, blinking, before laughing softly as the joke caught up with him.

[mitochondriaaya]

"Well then it was quite gracious of you to spare me the trouble," she chuckled softly. "Pardon the humor, it is late I admit."

[sliceitwithwind]

"Is it?" he tilted his head up at the sky, and then back down at her, "So it is. Pierce and Braig are usually asleep long before this. Pierce is half-Olia. Why are you still awake?"

Unspoken was 'how are you still awake?'

[mitochondriaaya]

"Some nights," she noted, a wry smile on her lips, "my mind hardly allows for sleep. That and a great deal of practice keeping pace with my dear uncle one would suspect. I'll likely be settled enough after seeing you sit to a proper meal."

[sliceitwithwind]

"Perhaps a glass of mulled wine to help dull your mind enough to sleep?" he wasn't talking about getting drunk, just the comfortable floating feeling of rich wine and spices, "Here, this is the galley. You may come for food at any time, there is always someone on duty and always warm food available."

Feeding Katzu was, after all, serious business.

[mitochondriaaya]

"A small glass in good company may be just the thing," she admitted cheerfully. And this...was an impressive galley! She had been on ships, certainly, though none as grand. She rather thought, ratio wise, this was above most!

"I must confess that my own ability in the kitchen is little more than what is required for a decent tea. Where might I remain out of the way?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Pick any seat." Dilan said, nodding towards the long tables at the sides of the room, bolted to the walls with built-in benches, "I will get the footrest that Pierce uses when eating, since they are a bit too large for you."

Very comfortable for the Katzu on board, but Pierce had to make due. "I am a decent enough cook, I suppose? Braig has never complained, at least, if I have had to cook. This might be due to the fact that his own attempts could poison a Katzu."

"Did." grumbled the cook on duty, mostly amused by the anecdote. Mostly.

"Bah, Toral, you recovered."

[mitochondriaaya]

She chuckled softly as she followed his offer, amused by how her booted little feet dangled, "It would be appreciated," she admitted. "Even if just to salvage some manner of dignity. It has been some time since I've felt overwhelmed by simple furniture!" Quite some time indeed. She'd never been of grand stature, but she rarely ever dangled any more!

"I have heard stories of how people will rush to intercept your captain rather than allow him to cook on a venture, even over a fire. Did my father truly eat a raw trout rather than allow Braig to cook it?" she chuckled, watching the cook and Dilan avidly for confirmation. She rather thought her father wouldn't have been able to choke down a trout, but some things were exaggerated in the telling.

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan slid the stool under her feet and then, with a soft laugh, slipped a pillow as well. Pierce was rather taller than Aya, after all. He settled in at the corner, explaining cheerfully, "I am left handed. Not, I assure you, a devil's child." it was a thing some protestants believed in. Dilan, obviously, thought it ridiculous.

"Yes, he did." There was a bit of glee in that, "To be fair, there are many foods from your mother's land that include an amount of raw fish. So it was not as though he were eating a rabbit raw. Nevada and I had rabbit. One of us would have done the cooking, but we were not close enough to camp to get there before we were too tired to cook. Nevada had twisted an ankle, which saps energy, and I carried him back."