----BOOK I – Winds of Change----

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“Something’s in the air . . . .”

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The AZ 13, also known as the “Sahana”, emerged from a large cotton-like cumulus cloud, on a course to Meka. It was a passenger airship, the sort of airship designed to fly up to twenty-four passengers all across the world at one time. Like the rest of the AZ series it had a rigid framework that spanned more than five stories in diameter. Most of its envelope was filled with helium gas, not as much of a dangerous component as hydrogen gas to be sure. He had heard tales of other models, and horrible incidents involving blazing fires. That sort of stuff cost the Mekian Airship Travel Corporation thousands, the organization in charge of operating the hundreds of airships manufactured by the Zeppelin Corporation. For eight years now, MATC Airlines have been going strong, ferrying passengers to and fro Meka, all of which has either business or travel on their mind. It was an industry important to the growth of the Mekian Empire. Without MATC, its world would collapse.

Some pilots took the job too lightly, others took it too seriously. Fritz was one of those people who were indifferent about it. After all, it was only a job. Unlike most pilots he did not dream of a life traveling the four corners of Rathya in hopes of adventure, those days were long gone. This was just another flight for him across the skies of Rathya, manning the controls with the help of his elevator man, Dav Atorr. He stared at the all too familiar clouds that marched along the skies as if they were dignified horses. It won’t be too long now. If they remained on course with no sudden surprises that latest they should arrive at the docks would be in around fifty minutes. Not bad for an eight-year old zeppelin. The folks back at HQ told him time and time again how one day the airship wouldn’t be able to stay afloat any longer, but Fritz had gone through tough times with the big girl, through harsh conditions and violent storms. Somehow the Sohana survived.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked his companion. They hardly talked to each other during their flights. Both of them were often too busy, or Dav would have to switch shifts whenever they were about to enter a serious discussion. From what he gathered about the younger pilot, his parents were originally from Terrantula, and taught him how to detect changes in weather or control a ship’s sails. Sometimes they would switch roles only to have Fritz find that Dav was better equipped at handling the rudder than him. He just preferred manning the elevator wheel to the rudder wheel, because it kept him more occupied. He had a girlfriend in Meka, a nice lass who worked at a café. On certain days Fritz would catch him singing the songs his girlfriend had taught him. Sometimes he would join in even though his voice was coarse when it came to singing, but the boy didn’t seem to mind. He liked his company.

“I’ve been better” Dav answered, sighing to himself. It had been a long flight, too long in fact. It was beginning to take a toll on his body and mind. He missed his girlfriend, wanting nothing more than to be with her again. He wasn’t the only one. Fritz had his own family that he missed, so he nodded in understanding, “This was one of our longer flights.”
“How well do you think the passengers are holding up?”
“Can’t really tell, but we have forty-five minutes until arrival. They should be fine until then, Lydia knows how to take care of them.” Dav nodded, but didn’t seem too happy about that. “They concern me.”
Fritz raised one of his eyebrows questionably at Dav, “And why’s that?”
“Didn’t you know that we have at least two Orks on board?”
“You can’t honestly think they would cause any trouble, can you?”
“I can think of a few examples.”
Fritz sighed, “Look, Dav, I promise you that nothing bad will happen on this ship!”
“Just like nothing bad happened when we flew into that thunderstorm?”
“That was six cycles ago! And it wasn’t my fault.”
“R-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ight….”

========================================================================

Inside the passenger’s cabin was an array of people, all from different cultures, waiting to set their eyes on the floating city at long last. If one were to look out one of the cabin’s windows, they would be able to see a black spot floating in the horizon, which many could have guessed was the capital city of Mek itself. There were already a couple of hot air balloons appearing beside the zeppelin airship, no doubt adventurers traveling back from a long journey. One hot air balloon in particular looked rather colorful against the blue sky almost looking as if it was a spherical rainbow. The hot air balloon soon disappeared behind a cloud, in the same way as it had first appeared. A young man who looked as if he was in his early twenties watched the hot air balloon disappear. His name was Lawrence Vyce, and he was a man who enjoyed designing robots. His latest design was a model that was meant to help aide miners in the mountains of Zorron in extracting ore. It was a part of the large stack of papers he held in his briefcase, along with his passport. He was hoping to somehow find a job in one of Meka’s major corporations, preferably one that specialized in robotics. That is, if they agreed to considering his model.

As Lawrence stared, the stewardess pushed a trolley down the cabin’s center aisle, passing by the young hopeful’s seat. “Breakfast! Anyone for breakfast?” she asked the passengers repeatedly. “We have eggs, bacon, buttered toast, biscuits, and tea. Would you like some breakfast sir?” she asked Lawrence, causing him to jump. ”Uh…” he turned to look at the flight attendant who was waiting expectantly for his answer. His eyes glazed over the array of food that was available, but he wasn’t hungry. ”Uh, no. No thank you.” The stewardess smiled faintly and nodded, continuing down the aisle. “Anyone for breakfast?” she continued to ask.



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(OOC: Alright, not really much to it. Most of you would be inside the passenger cabin -that is unless you're like Red and stowed away, then you can be in one of the engine rooms or whatever-. There's a stewardess coming around, offering food, and there's that one guy you can talk to. You can also start introducing yourselves.

So, post away, have fun, and don't damage things too early. I would like Sohana to stay afloat for at least two or three GM posts. Red, I am looking at you.

For some idea on the interior, see here. It’s the most accurate version of an airship’s interior that fits the one I had in mind.)

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Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

Sitting next to the young man who declined food, Sora'oso looks at the stewardess and says,
"I would like some of this... bacon... and two eggs, please."

<LandGrave B. Slater: 1st Class, 1st>





Landgrave sat in 1st Class, near the front of the ship. He has his own little seat to himself, like most of the 1st class passengers as well. As if he'd ride with everyone else in the economic section of the ship? Have some baby screaming in his ear, some man sneezing on his arm, or worst of all, someone spill food on his expensive jacket. Coats didn't just grow on trees, tailors were agonizingly bad when it came to prices, but Land didn't have to worry about all that thanks to his 1st class position.


They would be arriving soon, that much he could tell. Land was busy reading the newspaper, or rather, finishing up thanks to their close and closing proximity to the city. He put up a hand and snapped his fingers at the stewardess before she could go off into the deeper reaches of the ship, and to the common citizens. it wasn't that he wanted to be particularly rude, it was just that Land assumed that with 1st class, came the extra service of being served first. He didn't pay all that extra money to have to wait in line for everyone else to eat. And neither was he in any close proximity to "get" served along with the rest of the lot, considering his position near the front of the ship. Of course, the steward he waved waved (or snapped) down did not have to be the one serving the regular folk. Land just assumed the company running the ship knew enough to always have an eye on their most precious customers.


"I'll have 2-eggs, over-easy, 3 slices of bacon, 2 slices of toast, and a cup of tea." Land said not looking away from the newspaper he was reading. He knew he could be picky, because, again, the 1st class citizens wold no doubt be allowed to choose their breakfast, while everyone else may not have the same luxury.

They would be there soon, so Land had decided to get a modest breakfast instead of the usual. Besides, it wasn't like he wouldn't be able to buy food later, in the city. Although he was rather interested in the work to be found there. He already had the necessary connections to the richer families in the city, one in particular had opted to hire Land, and choosing not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, Land-grave had taken up the offer, rented out his house back in Icilee, and had his furniture flown into an apartment ahead of time. All he had with him were his materiall belongings, tucked away in the ship-baggage compartment.


Life seemed to be smiling at Land, at least for now. His cane sat against the wall, looking like simple black wooden cane. It only "looked" like a cane though. . .

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

-Sahana Passanger Cabin : “Spec On The Horizon”-

“Mek, the great flying city, capitol of the Mekian Empire, the Machine. What goes on there in your flying citadel? What secrets are you hiding?” Alimbur thought to herself as she stared out the window, her eyes narrow, focusing on the black dot hanging in the distance. It could only have been their destination. Hard to think from this distance that that little spec could be an enormous city bustling with business, trade, and manufacturing. Alimbur scowled. It was hard to hide her disdain for the city and all that is represented after the war, and here she was heading straight for it.

*snap* The reporter’s camera made a satisfying click as she took a picture of a colorful hot air balloon rose through the clouds and disappeared. “Got it.” It was a brilliant shot, catching the balloon just as it crested its way through another cloud. Too bad it was only a momentary distraction. It had been a long tedious flight, and there was only so much to be seen outside the window. Still, she had taken plenty of pictures today as the others may have noticed by now.

Alimbur sighed and turned away from the window, folding the lens back into her camera and placing it into her pocket. Faelee was a long way away now, and it might be a long time before she would return. Even now she longed for the narrow streets of Chimaera, the city she knew, and loved so well. There was no going back now though. She had a job to do. Events would transpire on what she could dig up, coax, or pilfer from the Mekian hierarchy. The scent of change was once again in the air, bathed in the familiar musk of war. It was whispered in the back rooms of politicians, common folk on the street and, of course, in her own reporting alike. Plots were being plotted and more than likely the Machine was behind it.

The reported shook her head to clear her mind. There was a lot to think about, and at the moment all the time in the world to think about it. It was driving her crazy. She wanted to act, not sit here and brood all day. She shifted her weight once or twice fidgeting in her seat, looking agitated. It was then the stewardess finally came through into cabin, the promise of breakfast on her lips. It was going to be a long day, and some hearty chow would be nice. “Oh I’ll take some breakfast as well.” She called out. “One order of everything you’ve got, and two sugars in the tea, no milk. Thanks.” The man in the expensive suit down the way had ordered first, the one reading the newspaper. “Say you down there. Mind if I ask what paper you’re reading? Anything interesting in there?” She asked trying to start a conversation. It has been a quiet ride so far.

-Jeggred Nalaar- ~Cabin: Near Lawrence~

'These airships sure are interesting, but hardly marketable.' Jeggred thought a few seats behind the jumpy Lawrence. 'There's no market except the extremely rich, and they're no fun to deal with, alway flaunting their money around.' he continued as he sat with a newspaper to his face. Jeggred gave off the impression of reading it, though mostly it was to make sure people didn't really bother him, he had enough questions while boarding the airship earlier. Jeggred sat in his economy class, very proud of himself for getting the ticket for about half price from a more than desperate person to unload them, wearing his normal clothing. A bit odd for where they were going, considering he was dressed for the dead of winter, but new cloths cost money, which he didn't feel like spending.

Jeggred listend closely to the stewardess as she approached him. 'Eggs, bacon, toast, biscuits...tea? No coffee? No wonder this ticket was half price.' he thought as she approched him. When she got near, he just shook his head and muttered "No thank you." to her, and she more than likely continued on her way. He put the paper down and looked out towards the black spec on the horizon. 'New country, new opportunites, new connections.' he thought as he stood up. Jeggred guessed they were a little over a half an hour from the city, so there was plenty of time to use the restroom. Jeggred got up and started walking towards the back of the airship, trying to find where in the world they put the damn things on an airship.

_________________
Fenix13 : Cheesemore if you get any more awesome this thread is gonna explo- WHAT THE FFFUUUUUUUUUUU- *Everybody dies*
BeeAre : i'm just going to go ahead and say it: this thread is cheesemore's thread now. like. he's officially spam's last post crusader, always seeking the last post like a knight looking for the holy grail. poor bastard. godspeed you goofy motherfucker.
JesusChrist : 16. Cheesemore should always be addressed as "fucking Cheesemore" because he's so pathetic [see: Last one to post thread]
SoulScavenger : Cheesemore, your avatar is awesome. That is all.
Akaine : Cheesemore...if this was facebook, I'd approve of your comment with clicking 'like'.
sam4books : Cheesemore earns an awesome point.

He looks around the airship and shifts nervously in his seat. Never having been in the air before, his sense of balance and direction are somewhat thrown off by the constant shifts the pilots make. Looking forward towards first class, he sees the only other Ork onboard, Mork'akathn, sitting rather uncomfortably, and rightly so.

"Good morning, brother. Hopefully, you ain't lost your papers of business. It certainly would be bad news for you."

+Latoiur Banzif - Cargo Bay of the Sohana+

It was cold, in the cargo bay, and Latoiur was huddled in a blanket next to what he could only imagine was the engine room of the Sohana.. He shivered almost constantly despite the blanket and the warmth of the engine room, making his scrawl across his tattered notebook even more indecipherable to anyone but himself, and his breath came out in white clouds. If the air was any thinner than it was on the ground below, he did not notice, as his former home in Zorron was nestled among the peaks of mountains

Stiltzkin, the utility robot that Latoiur had been gifted with from his former benefactor (partially as a joke, as they both knew Latoiur would have no particular need for what it was built for, compared what it was built with), had its smaller "eye" shine light down upon Latoiur's notebook for him, while one of its larger hands clutched the rather small and tattered suitcase that now held all of Latoiur's worldly possessions.

Even as he wrote, however, his thoughts drifted to his departure only a couple weeks before..
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Jastus Ereildre, Latoiur's benefactor and partner, could only sigh and mop his bald crown with his handkerchief as he held the heatless lantern down the road, waiting for the philosopher's arrival. Soon enough, the portly man could hear the tell-tale signs of his friend's arrival - Latoiur had never been very athletic or sure of himself, and his large utility robot did not help his lack of stealth any.

The two clasped hands next to Jastus' private hangar, where the man had arranged for transport out of Zorron without detection.

"Have you completed your affairs then?" asked Jastus, noting Latoiur's rather shabby and pointedly Mekian-styled garb.

"Yes," Latoiur sighed. "Mr. L is gone, and his body has been cremated and spread along the Zorron winds. As for Latoiur Banzif, he has taken to travel, and has thus taken a leave of absence from the Zorron Philosopher's Court, and has left all of his worldly possessions to his brother, except for any financial assets, which have gone to an unnamed benefactor."

Jastus made a face. "You left your estate to your brother? That drunken swine will already have gone through half your wine cellar, by now."

Latoiur shrugged. "I'm sure he's not too happy about it, either. He was always prideful, my brother, and couldn't stand the fact that the weakest in the family, the one who didn't work, became the most successful. His greed outweighed his pride, however, which is not any better. Besides, I didn't actually contribute to that cellar at all."

"I know," muttered Jastus. "They were all mine." However, Jastus sighed, and wiped his crown once more. "I don't like any of this," he said. "You won't even tell me why you're doing any of this."

"I need to," said Latoiur simply.

"Dammit, man," said Jastus, angrily. "I mean, why like this? If you wanted to go to Meka, you could do it in style - we could even have picked out an airship! It would have been loads of fun!"

Latoiur gave a small smile and awkwardly clasped the larger, portly man on the shoulder. "Jastus, you are perhaps my only friend in the world. If whoever it is that I was corresponding with - and this man is powerful beyond words - begins to hunt me, it will not have been very difficult to do so. The money from the Resonance Phones has to have gone somewhere. This way, however, I will be able to go to Meka and warn the Emperor - and by the time he finds me, it will have been too late. Now, do you have what I asked for?"

Jastus sighed and handed over an unsealed package. Inside was a recommendation from the Zorronian Court, as well as 500 talors in an envelope. Latoiur took the envelopes and placed them deep in his coat pocket.

"Thank you - and you'll leave as soon as you have your affairs in order?" asked Latoiur.

"I have a villa and some land in Terrantula," said Jastus. "Where I was going to retire when Resonance phones were no longer making us any money. Plans have merely moved forward a bit, that's all."

Latoiur nodded, and clasped his friend's shoulder again, before wordlessly turning and making his way towards the platform to get on the airship that would take him to Icilee, and then to Meka - he did not dare go straight there. As the airship left, Latoiur could see Jastus' lantern glow until he was far enough to know that he was only pretending to see it.

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He wondered if his friend had made it out safely - if Mr. M hadn't already caught on to Latoiur's identity. And despite himself, he smiled ruefully - despite the many times his eccentricities had cast doubt on his humanity, he could not have felt more human than he did right then, as he worried for his friend, tried to ignore the cold, and felt his stomache growl. He had been very frugal - it was easier to pay off one of the cargo handlers than to get a seat for himself - and more than half of the money was still with him. However, his meals reflected that, and he reached inside a shoulder-slung pouch he had bought in Icilee and took out a hard piece of bread, some yellow cheese, and a canteen that was nearly empty.

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Akaine: And a boner from this? Why not. If guys can walk around all day with boners, why not from slight provocation?
Jay: All day would indicate a health problem. But yes, at the most random times, several times a day for maybe half an hour, once every few hours at least, for absolutely no reason, sounds about right.
Redsnow: Stop teaching at preschools, Jay.

zenieth wrote:

I love you red.

Kharrighan Loreley: Economy: Tea would be lovely

Sitting serenely in her seat, Kharrighan Loerley crossed her long legs gracefully, her light and feathery sky blue see-through pants giving a nice view of navy shorts that cupped her rear generously. Tapping her toes of the raised foot to the tip of the thong sandal that was attached to it, making the sandal sole bounce off of her heel softly in a light patting noise. Her belly shirt rested a little under the curvature of her breasts, and was black with a hand-sewn design that looked quite similar to lace, giving the shadow from her chest a little more substance, leading towards her belly button, which was pierced with a light blue glass bead teasingly dangled, catching the light.

One could tell from her well-toned stomach that she was in good shape, and from her apparel that she was of Gypsy lineage. If one took a look at her stomach, they'd also notice this visually drawing scar that starts underneath her right rib, widens slightly as it crosses her stomach, skipping her belly button, and down to somewhere near her left hip bone. Her long slightly wavy brown hair hung unevenly in an almost elemental manner over her shoulder, some tucked behind a multiply pierced ear on one side and down her back to her waist. At her feet was a medium-sized leathery bag with her papers, and some necessities that she couldn't be parted with: her large wooden mandolin, and the large carved wooden handled knife. Of course, nobody could see them, they were inside the bag, but if someone astute enough were to notice the general shape of the mandolin, she wouldn't deny it's presence.

Her light blue-grey eyes looked around the cabin, observing all around her as she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes slowly as she took this all in. It would be her first trip to Meka, she was a little excited, she had been having a nagging feeling to go to the 'castle in the sky', as if it was where she was supposed to be. She was in the prime of her youth at 23 years old (1243 yps), and she was ready for this journey, in a way she needed it.

Suddenly, a flash went off, and she blinked, the only sign of her surprise as she turned her head to where the flash had gone off. By now she was sort of used to the flashing of the camera that had been going off for most of the trip. She didn't mind, the woman had every right to document whatever she pleased. Kharrighan herself didn't really like most technology, it made her feel bulky, and it was foreign to her, too cold and hard in it's intentions. It might seem silly to those not familiar with the ways of the Gypsies, but Kharrighan was a special young woman: she was a spirit medium. Key word: was. Just because she wasn't allowed the position anymore, didn't mean that she lost any of her powers, no, that would be absurd. How could she ignore all the spirits around her? The nature? The wind?

She was seated one row behind the woman with the camera, and she enjoyed seeing the connections that people were making all around her. When the stewardess walked by her row, she looked up and listened with the utmost attention and gave the woman a small pearly smile before saying,"If it's not a problem, plain tea without milk or sugar would be lovely." She didn't like causing people trouble, and found from her previous travels, that most of the people working in the service industry had more troubles than most from the way that the public treated them. it wasn't fair or very nice, as a matter of fact, it was quite crass of people. She had been raised to treat everything, people and plants and animals and the like, all with respect and love, if not caution.

She could feel the air's energy from within this airship, and it made her feel even more calm and relaxed: the wind was her closest friend, it had always been there for her, and would always be there with her. Playing with the end of a small bit of her hair in one hand, the faint scent of the sea rose to her nostrils, a teasing memory of her exit from the fair shores of Faelee. Giving herself a small smile, she looked around the cabin once more, letting the hair that was in her fingertips gently fall back against her.

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Doctress Who-CURSE YOU AKAINE AND FENIX. *Shakes fist*
Musicmac-INNUENDO... STRIKE!
Innuendo Squad Leader
Dare to join?

<LandGrave B. Slater: Pardon?>




Land looked up from his paper while he was being served. He thought he'd heard someone talking to him, but he hadn't heard them correctly. He quickly scanned the room, no one was looking at him. He then turned and leaned out onto the isle, looking down the ship, a confused look on his face.


He saw one person who was looking at him expectantly. He frowned at the woman. Not because she was talking, but because she was attempting to start a conversation from such a moderate distance. They would have to practically yell down the hall to talk to each other. Besides, Land hadn't even heard her correctly the first time.


"Oh well. . ." he thought. Rather then ignore her, he could attempt to oblige her and then the distance would create a fair amount of awkwardness to the point where she'd eventually brake off the conversation. Something Land wanted to happened exactly, so he could eat in peace and not be rude about doing so.

The man, looking at the photographer, cupped his ear at her, a gesture that would suggest he hadn't quite heard her right. He then stopped and looked at her confusedly/expectantly waiting for her, no doubt, failed response. The heavy weight of awkwardness, to come and crush this conversation before it began.

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

San'kau
=Oh the many places I've been and people I've annoyed=

Despite having ridden these monstrosities, several times in the past San'kau had never really gotten comfortable with the concept of airships. It wasn't that he had a fear of heights, such a fear was one he could not afford. Having such a fear would have resulted in his death quite sometime ago. Nor was it the fact that the ancient, over weight machines were death traps waiting to happen. No while those two issues did concern him, they were hardly the reason for his discomfort.

Rather it was the simple fact that he was trapped. Zeppelins were ridiculously convenient to travel quickly, but once on board and in the air... there was little he could do if he found himself in the company of a bounty or one of the thousand people he had ripped off. He hated the very concept of being unable to escape if the situation called for it.

Especially since the reason why he found himself journeying to Meka, a trip that he hadn't planned to take for another couple years was all due to extorting money from a quite powerful syndicate that had its reach in quite a few countries, but had yet to make its way towards Meka. Though his nervousness was somewhat unfounded. The heavy set middle age image of Fat Tony that he usually took on when dealing with syndicates was nothing remotely similar to his true image, an image that for the first time in a while that he had taken.

"Sir would you like something to eat." The stewardess repeated, snapping him out of his train of thought.

He hesitated for a moment. "Ah... could you get me some tea instead?" He asked politely. In moments a fresh cup was set in front of him.

It felt odd knowing that when someone saw him it was really him they saw. Perhaps he had grown too comfortable using the gem, that rest securely around his neck. "Ah nows the time to procure so added 'wealth'. " He hummed to himself as he started making his way towards the first class cabin

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The Dinobots can combine! What they combine to is death!

http://tfwiki.net/w2/images2/d/d2/The_B ... 2_full.jpg

=Mykhailo Caspari, First Class=
=Do the words, "Sticking out like a sore thumb" mean anything to you?=


-----In amongst the upper echelon with their tailored suits and their cultured verbiage, sat Mykhailo Caspari—Mykhailo, who, as if his looks and speech didn’t already set him apart enough, couldn’t seem to sit properly in his chair, constantly fidgeted as if he were a child, and had discarded his boots on the floor, claiming that they “cramped his style” in the most literal sort of way. The seat beside him, once occupied by Aleksandr DeVrie, now lay in disuse.
-----Any bystander would have assumed that Myka had scared him off with his antics. However, it was Alek whose fault it was that Myka was there in the first place. Myka was escorting Alek, his lifelong friend, to the city of Meka to make sure that he got settled in all right. Myka would have done it as a favor, but Alek insisted on paying him a hefty sum of money for his troubles. He even bought Myka a first class ticket, though Myka had every intention of stowing away. Anyways, then they could keep each other company, and talk, since most people in first class were too good to talk to one another. Myka wished he could be so lucky. Ever since they’d taken off, Alek had been darting back and forth between the lavatory, waging war on air-sickness, and losing whatever contents he had once had in his stomach. This left the first class people at the mercy of Myka’s increasing boredom.
-----At present, Myka was balancing on his seat on the balls of his bare feet, chest against his knees as he leaned forward to peer out the window. His head was pressed to said window, as if pressing on the window would get him a closer look, but all he could see thus far was an ocean of clouds. Myka enjoyed the airship, though he’d rather be flying or looking around instead of sitting in some stuffy, first class cabin. The airship crested over a cloud, and in the distance, a small spec of black against the clouds. That had to be Meka.
-----Myka made an excited noise, which was mildly close to, “I can see it!”, as he withdrew his head from the alcove. He jerked up to fast, though, and smacked his head. Though it wasn't much of a sight from here, no more than a blur against the blinding whiteness of the clouds.
-----“Would you like some breakfast, sir?” the lady inquired, before rattling off a list of what they had to offer. Myka , still rubbing the crown of his head sorely, listened attentively. What kind of ship was this? Didn’t they have any goddamn rum or whiskey around here? And being called "sir" just amused Myka to no end. Nobody ever called him sir.
-----“Yes ma’am, I’m ‘alf-starved,” Myka confessed, giving he girl a wink and a smile, “I could kill for some eggs and bacon. Lottsa bacon, if y’can. And some whiskey, but I don’ s’pose you have any of that, do you?”
-----“No, sir,” the stewardess laughed, “Unfortunately not.”
-----“Damned pity,” Myka sighed, “I don’ drink tea. Well, thank you, ma’am. And remember, lottsa bacon.”
-----“I’ve committed it to memory,” the waitress assured him, smiling as she moved on to next customer. A man came walking down the aisle, undoubtedly headed towards the lavatory, and Myka couldn’t restrain himself from informing the unsuspecting man. He leaned over and tugged at the guys sleeve with an, “Excuse me, sir?”
-----When he was sure he had the man’s attention, he continued, “I couldn’t help but t’ notice that you were ‘eaded towards the lavatory. It’d be the wiser to use the lavatory on th’ other side of th’ ship, as my friend is currently at odds with a bout of motion-sickness in the nearest one. Just so y’ know.”
-----That being said, he leaned back into his chair, curling and uncurling his toes on the chair so that it made the most-humorous and mildly irritating squeaking noise. He hoped Alek would come back, soon. When Alek had left, he’d given Myka specific instructions to remain in his seat, because Alek knew Myka too well, and knew that he’d be more likely to get in trouble if he was walking around. Myka smirked, rocking in his chair as the stir-craze continued to needle at him. Even Alek knew that Myka could find trouble without ever moving at all.

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<<If I had an awesome quote, it'd go right here.>>

-Nitori Hydrelend: First Class-

In a tiny corner of the First class passenger cabin sat a rather highly conspicuous person. Although normal by social standards, what Nitori Hydreland's clothing drew half interested stares were the condition of her clothing. Dirty boots...commonly worn by men, two greasy and dirty sleeves rolled up above her elbows, and dirt stained edges of her dark, pocket laden dress. But Nitori never returned the stares of her fellow passengers since her outlandish appearance would cause her face to redden with embarrassment. However instead of looking around, Nitori was busy over a set of blueprints and some tea she had previously bought.

How she got here was a story itself.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

-14 Days Ago-

"Ah would you please invite Mister Hydrelend into the committee chambers?"A fat, bearded man in spectacles said to his assistant.

"Uh...Chairman sir...Mister Hydrelend is a woman sir. Miss Hydrelend."

"What...I...very well bring Miss Hydrelend in..."

The doors opened a young woman of 22 years entered. She was very nicely dressed and every aspect of her was presentable. She sat down at the table that was directly facing the committee of seven old and well dressed men.

"Now Miss Hydrelend, we are here to discuss the fine aspects of you design and whether or not it should be mounted on our newest 'Hero' class battleships. Your design of the 12"/50 Caliber gun is very interesting. We would like you to again summarize the finer details of this design to this committee..." A balding man asked,

"Ah yes. My design is a modification of the existing 12"/50 Caliber Mark 5. While the Mark 5 is a fine weapon, the Mark 5 was selected because of its modularity with many existing battleships and plus its proven reliability. I used a higher grade materials and as a result, specific parts of the breech can be thinner and shorter resulting in less weight,increased barrel life and faster reload times. The cost should be slightly higher than the current Mark 7 guns in service but the overall return should negate such cost increases." Nitori confidently said.

"Well said Miss Hydrelend. Now we have two designs currently in place, yours and Mr. Carroll. Carroll's design is similar to your except he uses the same material grade as the Mark 7..."

"With all due respect Mr. Carroll's design, while building on proven ground is dangerous. I did the math and came up with a elevated chance of the breech exploding if the shell and powder was rammed in too hard. Decreased material strength wont sit well with the Navy sir..." Nitori countered. This Carroll guy had come to her with help and promptly stole chunks of her ideas...

"Apparently not...Carroll is the son of the prominent Navy Admiral and he insisted we use his son's design. Also he said and I quote, "Changes in safety procedures can very well reduce or remove entirely any danger of catastrophic explosion of proposed design." We are loath to not ignore his son since he commands a great deal of respect in the government."

"Son of a bi..." Nitori cursed under her breath.

"With regret we are here to inform you that your design will not be considered for use in the 'Hero' class battleships."

"Then why call me here..." Nitori sourly said.

"We call you here to tell you while we wanted your design but that Admiral bribed the munitions company to produce Carroll's design. All we are asking for you is to go to Meka and learn something from them. You see while we are allies...the Mekians don't share enough of their weapon designs with us. Were at a deadlock here and our attempts to match Mekian technology have come up short. This design of yours is proof that you have the talent needed to solve the Mekian puzzle. Come back to Zorron with the knowledge and I promise you that even Admiral Carroll and his son won't have anything to say..."

"And what if I don't?" Nitori inquired...

"You can continue making royalties off your designs but that won't be enough to compare to the lucrative contract we might give you if you deliver Mekian technology and the means to replicate to our hands."


<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

-Back to Reality: It sucks...-

"Eggs and Sausage. Scrambled eggs with onion, four sausages...and more tea please..."

Nitori hastily rolled up the blueprints back into a leather cylindrical case and accepted the food that was bought out. The stale tea that was on the table before was taken away while a fresh cup was bought over.

Carroll was a stupid man with connections. His father held more esteem and most of that was propping his son's incompetent attempts at higher mechanical design. Over half of his designs were declared unsafe and those that somehow passed broke all the more spectacularly. Even that, Nitori was unable to secure a design contract, most likely due to her gender. However bad enough, Nitori made enough from royalties from all the patents and designs she did to get herself a seat in First Class, it was still not enough to propel herself into the very spotlight her late father possessed. Hopefully the Mekians would allow her to return with some badly needed knowledge for her to strike big in Zorron.

Speaking of her father...that old fart never did loved her. His entire fortune was given to his trusted assistant which in the first light of the day after the reading of the will had her kicked out the house with so much as a goodbye. Despite having the same looks as her mother, Nitori never gathered much attention from the males who tend to stay away from disgraced daughters of renowned armament designers. Old fart had the audacity of telling her in front of all the well wishers that he blamed her for his wife's death...her own mother and promptly proceeded to screw her over as he passed away. No money, no inheritance, not so much as a "I love you", she was cast away into the cruel world with only her wits and last name.

Nitori shook her head. Enough of that. Whats done is done. "At least Meka would bring some relief" she thought to herself drifted off into her thoughts, mindlessly eating at the breakfast, oblivious to her surroundings and curious looks.

_________________
- Join the HUMP LEGION. Leading the Humping and Bumping since time began...*humpa humpa humpa* -

Note to self. Pg541

-Mork, Back of First Class-

Mork sat far back in first class. It wasn't very easy: He'd only been on a handful before, but things always seemed to be sized for humans. Made the seats terrible, the beds terrible, the hallways were small, always had to adjust things slightly. It was a bit odd, an ork in first class. However, he had a new employer, another man on the flight, who bought him the ticket. When he had got on there was some slight trouble, but he'd gotten through it. Mork was used to it. Mork had decided to try and remain vaguely inconspicuous, but his appearance and size made it difficult. He shifted his cloak slightly. He had kept it on most of the flight, as he hid him a bit better and he was just used to wearing it. Taking another look around, his gaze tended to shift to his employer. There hadn't been any trouble so far, and no one on board had looked like much danger so far. Still, the man was a fairly nice about him being an Ork (For an Icilee), and he was being paid, so he mostly spent the flight keeping an eye on his charge. Therefore, it was only for the briefest second he look out the window at the spot in the distance, at Mek. He wasn't sure how long he'd be there. Or what it'd be like. He'd seen plenty of city's, but this would surely be something quite new. A city up in the sky. Only Man-Kin would think of such a thing, so far from solid ground. Suppose it's near impossible to assault, though.

Probably no orks, though. At least, very few. He should be use to it. His jobs kept him far from home, and even mercenary jobs only put him with a few others. Speaking of, the other ork on board had just said something to him. "Morning." He leaned his head back and tilted it towards to door to economy, speaking fairly softly. Didn't need to attract attention. "Of course. It'd be worse for you. I've got an employer. Rich merchant. Still, I'm expecting it will take a bit to get in." Tried to keep it short, too. Man-Kin always looked suspiciously at two Orr-Kin talking to themselves. Turning back, he found his view of the charge blocked by a stewardess giving out breakfast. He wasn't terrible hungry, but he's lived on rations for many years, and knew to get food where you could find it. He tried to tone down the gruffness in his voice. The downside of making oneself look intimidating is it affected people even when you didn't want it to. "Biscuit, two. Please."

_________________

-Sahana First Class Cabin: “Strolling Among the Class”-

Alimbur parsed her lips and frowned at the man. Apparently he hadn’t heard her question. There must have been more noise from the engines than she had realized. She shrugged at his gesture. Rather than be deterred however, the reporter rose from her seat and took a leisurely stroll out of economy and into first class. That was where the movers and the shakers on this trip would be anyway, the willing lapdogs of the Machine. Zorron engineers designed and built her great engines of industry, shrewd Icilean business men drove them forward, and last but not least Terrantula, who was not devoid of her own shrwed businessmen, grew the food and kept the lot of them fat and happy. It was a perfect trifecta, but Mek of course ran the show. In only the ten years since the war ended Mek successfully changed the balance of power among the nations and drew the elite to herself like kite-moths to a flame. It was an awesome but terrifying thought.

The reporter eyed the first class passengers gainfully. There were indeed several extremely well dressed men among the groups along with an Orr-kin of all things, and a greasy looking young woman dressed in work attire. Alimbur made quick note of each passenger before her gaze settled on Mr. Landgrave, the man she had addressed not thirty seconds before. “I was just wondering,” She paused for a second, speaking a slight more loudly than needed to get the man’s attention. Alimbur wasn’t one to be ignored. “what paper you were reading and if there were any interesting stories inside.” She continued, her inquisitive gaze sizing him up. He wouldn’t get away so easily.

<Landgrave B. Slater: Manners, my Dear>


Land sensed someone looking over his shoulder. he turned, expecting the stewardess with his food. Instead he found the woman from before. A jaded look crossed his face. But he did not put up the paper as she asked, Land instead continued to talk to her behind it. Hoping the paper would somehow make her go away. A sort of unconscious barrier. That is until he noticed the camera. She was a photographer it seemed, he could tell because of the camera that hung from her neck. And Land, being a man of the public (somewhat) persuasion, could never pass up the option to have his name out there. That is if she was asking this for any reason other then to make conversation.


In any case, land decided to humor her. A bit of both reasons, one: to make her go away. . .although he doubted this would happen, or two: in case she was somehow going to do something with their conversation (good PR for Land)

"It's the Meka Tribune, no nothing of interest is on it." Land said bluntly to her. She wasn't even supposed to be in 1st class. No doubt the stewards would voice their dis-opinion on the fact that a economy class customer just waltzed into 1st like nobodies business. There were rules to be followed, and the high-paying customers in first, however strange they might seem ("Oh how strange they seem") were not to be interrupted by the economy. It's not that Land cared for what she was or where she sat, just that there were rules to be followed here on the plan. Besides, she was acting awfully weird for someone who just wanted to ask about the paper. . .

_________________

*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

-Jeggred Nalaar- ~Finally at the bathroom~

Jeggred walked slowly towards the back, in truth he didn't have to go, he just wanted a good look at everyone in his area. He noticed Lawrence, and the Ork that seemed nearly as nervous as he was. 'Must be contagous.' he thought in his head sarcasticly. He noticed the reporter, and watched as she and the Ork approached first class. 'I guess they aren't too bright, maybe I'll stick around and watch this...' his train of thought was interuppted though, by a tug on his arm.

Jeggred's instincts kicked in and quickly grabbed into his jacket with his other hand, but stopped as he grabbed the handle of his knife, near his left breast. 'Calm down, they're just getting my attention.' he thought as he turned to look at the one who tugged on his arm. A gypsy, no less. Jeggred sighed as he spoke, worried over nothing.

“Excuse me, sir? I couldn’t help but t’ notice that you were ‘eaded towards the lavatory. It’d be the wiser to use the lavatory on th’ other side of th’ ship, as my friend is currently at odds with a bout of motion-sickness in the nearest one. Just so y’ know.”

Jeggred smiled a bit, and responded to the man. "Thanks for you concern, but I think I'll be fine. Last I checked Air Sickness wasn't contagous. Plus, I don't think the stewardess would let me use the first class bathroom." he said to Mykhailo, and continued towards the bathroom. After a brief search he found it, and went in. Jeggred could hear the man in one of the stalls. But it sounded like he was just about done. He walked over towards the sink and ran the water and splashed his face a few times. 'I'm far too jumpy, am I really that nervous? I must be getting too old.' he thought.

_________________
Fenix13 : Cheesemore if you get any more awesome this thread is gonna explo- WHAT THE FFFUUUUUUUUUUU- *Everybody dies*
BeeAre : i'm just going to go ahead and say it: this thread is cheesemore's thread now. like. he's officially spam's last post crusader, always seeking the last post like a knight looking for the holy grail. poor bastard. godspeed you goofy motherfucker.
JesusChrist : 16. Cheesemore should always be addressed as "fucking Cheesemore" because he's so pathetic [see: Last one to post thread]
SoulScavenger : Cheesemore, your avatar is awesome. That is all.
Akaine : Cheesemore...if this was facebook, I'd approve of your comment with clicking 'like'.
sam4books : Cheesemore earns an awesome point.

~Lydia: Passenger Cabin----"Sohana"~

Lydia nodded to the gentleman in the front, and quickly attended to his breakfast, pushing the trolley back to the front when she was done. "Two eggs, over-easy, three slices of bacon, two slices, of toast, and a cup of tea." she repeated, handing him a tray filled with his order. On its rectangular metallic surface was a peach china plate with floral designs. The dish was filled with two, fat eggs that were done over-easy in a perfect faultless circular shape, with the edges of both eggs merged slightly. Next to it was four slices of bacon fresh out of the oven, hot and steaming, the strips were stacked neatly next to each other and had no broken edges from what Land would have seen. His two slices of toast were each sliced diagonally in the middle as to create four triangular pieces of bread, spread across each piece of toasted bread was a thin layer of butter, not too thick but just enough to make the toast melt inside a person's mouth. Next to the plate a fork and a knife was placed along side a folded napkin, also in a triangular shape that matched the slices of toast in a clever manner. Setting down the tray on a small table in front of Land, the stewardess next took his cup of steamed tea and placed it next to the knife on the side. She then gave him the usual milk and sugar before uttering the common flight attendant saying, "Enjoy your breakfast, sir" and bowing respectfully before moving on to the next customer. She treated the man with respect and care because she knew how rich he was, and how important he was to the business. Any disappointments, and her job was in jeopardy, as well as her employer's business. If she had learned anything while on the job on board the "Sohana", it was that the rich were the ones that truly had power.

Next was Myka, the hearty sailor who ordered the large number of bacon. Her smile grew as she drew nearer to him, she would never be able to forget his order. A plate full of bacon messily stacked on top of each other but still retaining some sort of style amongst them as if stacking bacon on top of each other was some sort of sacred art form. This was all placed on a large, white plate, the eggs the sailor had ordered was placed on a much smaller plate that was also white. The number of eggs were two, and they were done sunny-side-up, the default way of cooking eggs for Edward. "Enjoy your breakfast" she said to him in the same way she told Land.

Next was the dirty little girl, whom the stewardess couldn't but wonder why she didn't keep herself clean and tidy like a normal young lady. But since she was obviously some sort of engineer she decided not to question it, although she had to ask herself what a woman was doing in the engineering business. Instead she presented Nitori with her order of scrambled eggs with diced onions spread throughout as well as sprinkled pepper. Positioned around the scrambled eggs in a circular manner were four juicy, thick sausages. It was made in a special, artistic manner, with extra dices of onion piled a little at the top of the scrambled egg's centre as if it was some sort of big finished. The stewardess poured the young woman more tea, giving her a smile. "Enjoy your breakfast, ma'am."

Next was the Orr-kin at the back of first class, and she approached him in a cautious manner. Lydia was not used to Orks being on board the "Sohana" and as a result did not know how to deal with them. She heard stories of how if a person made an Orr-kin angry enough they would become a force of destructive power. It was a very scary thought to be sure, especially when they could not afford any damages to the "Sohana". She smiled nervously as she approached him, and slowly handed him his two biscuits which were already buttered with a nice clean spread. "Enjoy" she squeaked, trying not to meet his eyes, wondering whether he was made at her or not. He must've been, she didn't even look at him in the eyes. As she continued down the aisle she felt a tinge of regret, but she also felt some hint of relief. Orks were always so intimidating to her, but that was mainly because they were so gigantic. Unfortunately, she also had to serve that other Orr-kin. She supposed she couldn't complain, but never-the-less the stewardess was in no hurry to insult anyone. She served Sora'oso as quickly as she had served Mork, taking care to give him too the usual blessing. After serving Sora, she somehow felt calmer knowing that the Orks were probably enjoying their breakfast, and that she had nothing to worry about. Now that she had thought about it...the Orks did seem more civilized than the sort she had heard about in stories. Hopefully they would remain that way.

Alimbur's order had a little bit of everything just as she had asked. Journalists were some of the regulars on the "Sohana" so she was used to their company. Most of them never required much, but they were a rather nosy bunch. This one was no exception. The stewardess looked disapprovingly as the woman got up from her seat and strolled up to the first class portion of the cabin. She shook her head, she would never understand the antics of journalists. "Excuse me for a second ma'am, it won't take long" she told the Gypsy who she was planning to serve next before walking back up to the front of the first class section. "Sir, is this woman bothering you?" she asked Land.

========================================================================

~Axial Corridor, "Sohana"~

Upon the narrow walkway walked a lone man who could have easily been mistaken as a crew member, but the truth was he was just another stowaway. The crew was up and busy that morning, with their destination high in the distance, it was no surprise that everyone was suddenly attending to their duties. The exact number of crew members on this ship was large enough so nobody would notice a man that normally wouldn't be caught dead on an airship. People just assumed he was a newbie. The man passed by a large gas bag filled with helium gas, there was about sixteen of these things on this ship, all of them meant to keep it afloat. If anyone were to puncture at least one of these beasts the ship would surely be in great danger of sinking. But it wasn't intention to sink the ship. No, that would ruin his entire reason for being here. He intended to ride the "Sohana" all the way to Meka. Perhaps there he can finally discover the true master of this complex game, a game that has been bothering him for awhile. 'Not to worry, old friend. Your disappearance would not have been in vain.' he thought as another engineer walked by him towards that lead to the lower corridors and in turn, the hull.

Why was he up here? He didn't know. He supposed he should've stayed asleep in the crews quarters like any crew member would've done. He just felt that people would be less suspicious if he looked like he was actually doing something. Before him was a ladder that lead to the observation deck. He was tempted to climb up there himself, but decided not to. He had no reason to climb up there unless he was mending the airship's envelope. But that's the thing, no one was supposed to be up there. So why was there men climbing down the ladder?

========================================================================

~Lawrence Vyce: Passenger Cabin, "Sohana"~

Lawrence sat uncomfortably against the shifts of his neighbor. How rotten was his luck that he was stuck sitting next to an Ork of all things. The guy was practically a giant, and not at all soothing to sit next to. It didn't help that he was constantly moving. Lawrence understood how hard it was to be comfortable on an flight, but was all the shifting really necessary? The designer looked out the window, attempting to ignore the two Orks talking to each other, but his gaze was met with a peculiar thing. There was now an airship just outside his window, located right near the "Sohana". It was a smaller airship with an envelope that was dyed a crimson red. Its gondola was shaped as if it was a real ship, built entirely out of wood. In fact, the gondola was leveled with the gondola that was the passenger cabin in an almost sinister way. Lawrence felt a need to warn someone, anyone. Perhaps the stewardess, but she was busy with the journalist in the front, the one that was snapping that annoying camera of hers throughout the entire flight. He shifted impatiently in his seat, wondering whether anyone would notice.

========================================================================

~Control Room, "Sohana"~

The elevator man peered out the command gondola's windows at the airship that appeared right next to theirs in a worried manner.

"Hey Fritz-"
"I know."
"Was it-"
"I know. I don't know where it came from either?" Fritz sighed, doing his best to keep control of "Sohana"'s rudders.
"Do you think it was following us the entire time" asked Dav nervously, knowing far well what this might imply.
"Can't really tell. We'll just have to be careful not to get to close. Who knows what they fill their gas cells with."
"Or if they have them."
Fritz ignored that comment, "Just make sure to keep the ship level. We can't risk too much elevation with this idiot around."
"Or we can send them a telegraph."

As if one cue the control room's telegraph received a message in the form of Morse Code. The elevator man quickly worked to interpret the beeping noises that came from the machine:



"Well, what's the message" asked Fritz, not looking up from his controls.
Dav's face grew as pale as paper, staring at the piece of paper before his hands.
"Well?"

_________________

Musicmac: "Sam4Books: Always ready to cheer things up with awesome art. Terms and Conditions apply."

Kharrighan Loreley: Economy

She continued sitting calmly, when the hostess walked by once more saying that the tea would be by in a little bit. She gave her a nod with a smile and said, "Take your time, it's no trouble." The hostess seemed to be a bit busy with taking care of everyone at the moment. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to bring out her large mandolin, she unclipped the bag's top and gently pulled out the instrument with tender fingers that even in the motion of pulling it out, showed the utmost affection. She saw some movement from one of the windows, and it was then that she got a foreboding feeling. She replaced the mandolin, stroking the slightly worn down wooden edges with loving fingers and a verbal apology, "I'm sorry, love, we'll make music soon. I promise."

After clipping the bag shut with a wooden clasp, she leaned over slightly, her legs uncrossing in their sheer pant material to give her a better balance, and she looked out the window once more, giving the airship a worried look, as if she could sense something bad was about to happen. One hand slowly reached up to the purple shell necklace that was around her neck, with white connecting seeds and black knots as she continued to watch the airship cautiously. The soft and hard purple cowrie shells were warm only where they touched the skin of her neck, and the tops of the shells were cool to the touch: an interesting but calming sensation.

EDIT:

She looked out the window one last time, and deciding that she couldn't quite see enough of the ship, she gave herself a slight nod and quickly wrote a not to the hostess:



Putting down the pen that she had written with, she picked up the medium sized black bag that was her carry on and slung the shoulder strap over her shoulder after pulling out the overly large knife in it's sheath. After a quick inconspicuous glance around to make sure that nobody was watching, she pushed it between her breasts and under the connective piece of the bra that would hold the sheath in place while keeping it out of sight.

Standing up, she walked calmly over to the observation deck, moving to the side as people got up to use the restroom, change seats and what not. Once she arrived, she looked intently at the ship once more. It didn't exactly look friendly, and she rubbed the purple cowrie shells of her necklace in reassurance once more. Her mind shortly wandered to her thong sandals and the hope that they wouldn't be torn away in the wind. After that thought, she pulled her hair back into a very loose ponytail using a small section of hair near the bottom of her neck that she pulled around and around till she tucked it in safely.

_________________
Doctress Who-CURSE YOU AKAINE AND FENIX. *Shakes fist*
Musicmac-INNUENDO... STRIKE!
Innuendo Squad Leader
Dare to join?

<Landgrave B. Slater: There goes my breakfast. . .>






Land looked up and away from his newspaper, out the window.

He sighed. Folding the paper neatly onto the table on which he sat. "People these days I tell you. Always ruining a good-man's breakfast. I won't even be able to eat my meal thanks to these fools. Ha ha, steal my things! As if I'll let you. . .no good heathens. . ." Land grumbled as the shifted in his chair. Land reached over for his cane.

He tapped it against the wall, it quickly turned into the EP staff.


To the two talking to Land it would have appeared as if he was getting ready to hit either one of them. "No she's fine," Land said with a wave of the hand to the girl. "But if you'll excuse me. . ." Land said to the two as he calmly got up out of the seat. "But is there any reason why a known pirate-ship is just by the ship outside?" Land said, pointing with Gramm-ar at the window. Land knew this because, being a man of words, one is a man of knowledge. Land knew that symbol, he'd read it in the pirate-almanac, it stood for "Every-man for himself" Being an English major, Land knew plenty about symboligy.



" I assume we'll be boarded. . .in oh about a few minutes, no less. I suppose you all have a plan right?" Land asked the steward. He seemed to be giving the air-ship more credit then they had. Land assumed many things, one of them was that society would always handle it. Everyone was supposed to have a plan, what made these people any different? This was, of course the reason why Land did not seemed to be phased in the least, he wasn't very scared, because he assumed they'd handle the pirates and they'd be on their way. But if worse came to worst, EP could always be used to protect, in fact if anything was his source of confidence it was Gramm-ar. A surprised look crossed Land's face, he quickly snatched the toast off the plate. With a smile he quickly began eating the toast.

"I'd almost forgotten to eat something before all hell breaks loose. . ." He said with a determined look.

_________________

*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

{Leon Borren}

_Enter Leon_

A money wrench clutched by itself. " Looks to me, I found myself a winner." Leon comment as he pointed the tool at the only person in the first class wearing dirty boots with dirty and greasy clothing. He hid his face with his fedora, only showing a smirk and hints of facial scars. He wore a polar bear's pelt as a cape, wearing a dark blue suit with black vertical stripes. " I have to ask, ma'am, but are you an engineer?" Leon questioned as he sat right next to her.

The appearance and the blue print on the table was a dead give away, however, he wanted her to point that out. He didn't want to say, he found her by using a strange medium thanks to his dowsing ability. The less people knew of him the better. Even his new bodyguard, whom he gave first class tickets too, doesn't know what he is up too. " If you are, I'm looking to start a new business opportunity." He added as he mentioned his intention.

_________________
"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

-Nitori Hydrelend: Who the hell are you?-

"Ehh...yes?" Nitori replied. There was this strange man talking to her. He looked creepy. Most of the passengers she now noticed were kinda strange bunch. She straightened up to further look at this stranger coming out of nowhere. Kinda fierce looking. Good thing breakfast was here so she can have an excuse not to talk to him. She was not really go with people...

"I uh...was just doing some light reading...having breakfast...uh nothing of the sort...yes I am an engineer. What do you want and whats in it for me?"

_________________
- Join the HUMP LEGION. Leading the Humping and Bumping since time began...*humpa humpa humpa* -

Note to self. Pg541

{Leon Borren}

_Business_

" My kind of gal, strictly business. " Leon remarked as he moved closer to the engineer he found. He looked up to make direct eye contract with her. She would notice the three facial scars on his face, and lapis colored eyes. " Well what I want and what's in it for you depends on your answers." He said. Out the of the ship's window, Leon noticed another ship coming into view. " As an engineer, do you think that our world needs tools that can save lives or end them?" He asked her.

Leon took out his six shooter and started to examine his weapon. " Personally, I feel the peace, we now have is just a prologue to another war. However, I like to be wrong. " He commented as he began to load the barrel of his gun. " Mind you, both are good businesses as long as you know how to handle them and I'm good at what I do." Leon continued to Nitori as he rotated the barrel. He snapped his six shooter together.

" Now what you gain, I don't know. What is it you want to gain?" Leon asked right back. " All I know, is I take good care of my employees and my influence on others is fantastic if I had to say. So if you need something, I'll get it, if you have a problem, I'll get rid of it" He mentioned as he talked about a little about himself. " Just to mention, I'm heading to Meka with my bodyguard to find my blue bird of happiness, what about you?" He questioned to her.

_________________
"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

-Nitori Hydrelend: Now your creeping me out...-

"Ah...wait, what?" Nitori started to say...

"Now wait a minute here...I just barely met you a few seconds ago and now your asking a business proposition to a person who barely knows who you are and what your name is..." Nitori blurted out. It was getting uncomfortable here. This person clearly was taking a calm attitude towards her.

"Yes I am an engineer and what makes you think I owe the world anything? The world owes me...big time. Why I think that is a different story...WOAHLY SMOKEY why your have a gun out?! Put that away what if someone sees you?"

"Okay okay okay...Listen I just going to Meka to learn some stuff okay? Needed a few pointers from them in order to get a contract in Zorron. There I told you everything now please put the gun away. Here..I'll tell you my name, my name is Nitori...Hi how are you? Pleased to meet you now please put the gun away."

"Hey look another airship!" Nitori pointed out to the stranger, hoping to distract him while she attempted to slink away. However she stayed put in her seat as she noticed something peculiar about the airship outside the window.

_________________
- Join the HUMP LEGION. Leading the Humping and Bumping since time began...*humpa humpa humpa* -

Note to self. Pg541

-Sora'oso Enta'rion: It's about time-

With all this ruckus, I guess a fight's about to start. About damn time.

After wolfing down his eggs and bacon, Sora'oso stood up and brought the stewardess his plate and thanked her for the meal, then turned to the strange man and said,
"That stick better be good for something... I have a feeling you're going to be using it. And Mork'akathn... It seems today is your first official day on the job. Wanna come and help me or are you going to wait until they get here? Knowing you, you're probably going to come along. First to draw blood gets a free drink if we make it to Meka in one piece.

{Leon Borren}


_Its how, I am_

" Ooh, I like it, the angle you're going with. Very mad scientist, if I had to say." Leon said as he voiced his opinion on Nitori's answer to his question. " Huh, my gun? Would you prefer my knife instead?" He questioned as he held his weapon like it was a toy. " I think, the gun looks cooler than the knife, but that's my opinion, after all". He commented as he told her, his preference of weaponry.

" And its a pleasure to meet you too, Nitori, but I'm afraid, I can't." He mentioned as he decline her plead of putting away his gun. " I don't think that ship, you pointed out is a friendly." Leon said as he explained his reason for denying her. " But, I think we'll cross that bridge when it comes. What is important is the word pointers." He went on to say as apparently the word pointers stuck to his brain. " Honestly, pointers, come on. Inspiration, is the word, you should use. " Leon lectured Nitori. He then, started to wave his gun around Nitori as he started to point something out " See, when I hear the combination of words like pointers, engineer and a contract, I get this: You're really here to merely "reverse" engineer, Meka products. "

" It screams your employers are lamebrains and your very talented. " Leon commented "Makes me want to hire you even more."

Leon turned to her and smiled as he finally went around to introduced himself " Now my name is Leon Borren. Address me as Leon, please. I'm a wealthy merchant from Icilee and I have the talent to determine the quality of goods this includes people. "

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"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit