It had been a journey fraught with delay, of over seventy two hours of uninterrupted flight connected between several airships. From her station at the iron works to the Sakigorki Aerodrome of the capital and then into Cresian airspace, her new hosts had made a great show of their country to the foreign students. Perhaps, maybe, by necessity they had been taken all the way to Emersa to board the final airship, the one set out for Arkus Academy itself. Foreign students all of colors and different bearings thronged them there, but capacity was seemingly no issue for a Cresian vessel. There formed a clear divide, between the haggard foreigners plucked from their faraway islands and distant factories and the fresh faced youths of the Cresian heartlands, taking to the sky as easily as if it were their morning commute. 

For Tatjana Kirigina's part, being a technician for airships didn't directly translate to any particular comfort with living on them for days at a time. Indeed, having a witch on your ship was an omen of the worst kind. Not for any kind of superstition, actually, just the simple fact that having a problem solver aboard meant there was a problem with your boat somewhere. Proofing voyages were necessary shakedowns of the Republic's military capabilities. They also invited the opportunity to pancake yourself onto hard permafrost while conducting altitude stressing, many called them the closest thing to a combat deployment one could enjoy in the postbellum. This airship in particular, was the worst she had ever sat down on. Too quiet, too smooth. It was as if the damned Cresian bucket had lost power at all times, so smoothly did it slide through the skies. So she found herself in engineering, where the engine noise was unmistakable and the warm glow of boiler faces lit the routine cycling of the ship's crew from station to station. Where the smell of soot and oil overpowered the homely scent of cleaners and perfumes that lined the public facing sides of the airship. All she had had to do was promise to keep that wrench away from anything that worked, and she'd found her place to sleep for the first time in a while.

Kirigina's wrench stood propped up against her while she sat propped against the bulkhead, nestled between two vertical spans of piping that had stayed mostly inert and cool during her slumber. Probably demand water lines or something. Only on a passenger ship would you find pipes large enough to hide a small child in dedicated to comforts. The bundle of a tattered overcoat and tipped down witch's hat probably went unnoticed by most after she'd first settled in, a softly shifting mass of rough fabrics that ever so often betrayed its humanity with a rough snore and a slight turn. The finest aircrew for the finest students labored with beauty, geniuses of their craft worked wonders out of an airship that was equal parts bold statement of Cresia's technological supremacy and humbling offer of the nation's highest comforts for a brighter, international future. Tatjana Kirigina snored so loudly she stirred herself, shivering out of a deep sleep as the vessel barreled towards its final destination. The brim of the bundle's hat rose up, baring a glimmering sliver of bleary eyes below, shifting side to side as they sought a clock on any of the engine room's walls. 

Were they there yet? The shapes of the room blended together in her vision. Blinking rapidly, she settled on the overwhelmingly blue form of someone else caught up in the makeshift observer's gallery. Perfect. She rolled forward, wrench clanging onto the metal floor with an ear rending noise that she paid absolutely no mind to. She reached a hand out to the idle person, thinking to grab them by the shoulder and ask the time before an awakening fragment of lucidity spotted the obviously fine make of their fabrics. Aristocracy given form, she had seldom seen the glimmer of textiles such as the blue person's on even general-officers' attire. [color=d68a59]"Ah,"[/color] A verbal, guttural realization of decorum, she looked at her hand to make sure it wasn't coated in oil before tapping him on the shoulder blade. [color=d68a59]"Uhh... do you have the time?"[/color]

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