[b]James E. Carter, Zoe Spyroe & Hamelie Le Marinier[/b] [center][b][i]Planning some rest & recovery I[/i][/b][/center] [i] collaboration between [@InfamousGuy101], [@Dyelli Beybi] and [@PrinceAlexus][/i] [hr] Carter’s boots thudded dully against the planks as he made his way down the narrow passage, tool belt still slung low on his hip, Harlan holstered at his side leg and he smelt faintly of tar and canvas glue. The ship had gone quiet, save for the low hum of the engines somewhere aft. He passed closed cabin doors, each rattling softly with the rhythm of the hull, until a flicker of movement ahead made him slow. Zoe was there, coming the other way. He offered a short lift of the chin, the ghost of a smile in the eyes, “Afternoon,” he drawled, voice low and easy, as if they were on a river ferry instead of a warship limping between fronts. “Didn’t figure I’d run into you down this way.” "I've always been interested in these machines," she said, glancing about the ship's interior with a vague look of interest, "In another life, maybe." She paused, smiled, "Good afternoon, Sir." Carter’s grin tugged just a little wider at the edges, “Well now, that’s good to know,” he said, shifting his weight as though giving the idea some thought. “Because about two cabins down the portside reciprocating flux compensator’s been acting up all morning. Might be your chance to put those ‘other life’ skills to the test.” He gave her a sidelong look, half teasing, half appraising, “Course, if it turns out you don’t know the difference between a wrench and a soup spoon, I’ll have to start questionin’ your résumé.” "Hmm... I might leave it to people who know what they're doing," Zoe wrinkled her nose at the idea, "I do know the difference between a wrench and a soup spoon and indeed, table, dessert and teaspoons as well, but I don't know what on earth that other thing you mentioned was. In this life, I mostly dance and make witty banter." Carter chuckled, the sound low and warm in the narrow hall, “Can’t say I’ve ever been one for fancy silverware myself,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But seems your abilities work well enough. You’ve got this bunch pointed toward a common goal, and that’s more than most could wrangle outta this lot.” He leaned a shoulder against the bulkhead, tone easing into something almost nostalgic. “Back at the Western Fold in the Main, we used to have these nightly dance parties. Out under the lamps, music carryin’ over the river… in my younger years, I was quite the dancer.” A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe when this is all over, we’ll see if you can keep up.” Zoe gave a small laugh, raising an eyebrow, "Me, Captain? I merely pointed them at money... and I can promise you I can keep up. I don't tire easily." Carter’s grin lingered as he gave a slow nod, “I’ll have to hold you to that,” he said, voice carrying that easy mix of challenge and humor. “Who knows, maybe once we get to Mitteland, we’ll find out.” He shifted his tool belt a little higher on his hip, eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity, "Speakin’ of which… what’s the plan for you once we touch down? Can’t suppose you’ll be headin’ back to Inbur.” "Oh," she pursed her lips thoughtfully, "If you mean the city, then 'no'. It's best if I give that town a wide berth. No doubt the communalists will want a word with me," she gave a small shrug, "What can I say? I have a charming smile. Perhaps Grendell? Once we land in Elvesland we'll fund out more about the state of the city." "But as for the other matter. Why wait?" she declared, "Everyone is walking around this ship looking so glum! We should have a dance! The old dining hall would be perfectly suitable." Carter let out a low chuckle, rubbing the side of his jaw as though weighing the notion, “Well… given what we just slipped away from, maybe it’s not the worst idea. Might even shake some of the ghosts outta folks’ heads.” He glanced toward the passage, “Never been to one of those fancy dining hall balls myself but it might be nice, even if the backdrop’s a country teeterin’ on the edge.” His eyes glinted with a touch of mischief, “Hell, Arkadios and that stuck-up Elga might even crack a smile for a change.” "A dance, might help some people, can be wound too tight." Le Marinier said as he came into view having gone for a walk to try and stretch his legs in this airship... there really was not many places to go. "Besides, we need to pair the right summer red with ration chicken and a white with some tinned beef stew. Maybe whatever passes for scotch after. Dowger Duchess had a much better celler." He tried to potentially boost morale a little and a abit of a dance, a few drinks or just some social gathering might ease pressure on the crew. His humour was a little dry he had to admit right now. He could not deny being a military diplomat did not have... perks... "I don't know if we have any of that, but I'm sure I saw a phonograph in one of the officers' cabins," Zoe chipped in, "There must be some shellacs or cylinders to go with it. That's all we need really. We'll make do with the rest." She glanced between the pair, a slight curve of a smile on her lips, "Can I leave this in your capable hands to organise while I let the others know what we're planning?" she asked before adding, "This way is best, they're unlikely to say no to me. Like I said before, charming smile," she declared, gracing the pair with a demonstration. Carter gave a small nod, glancing between Zoe and the Favish officer, “Well, long as the ship’s still holdin’ together, and she is for now, I don’t see a reason we can’t make it happen.” He looked over at Mariner with a faint grin, “Sounds like you’ve already got your mind on that drink, Captain. Guess that means I’ll have to see what passes for a bar on this heap.” Then he turned back to Zoe, a more businesslike spark in his eyes, "Alright, you go work that smile of yours and get the crew on board with the idea. Me and the Captain here’ll see to getting the dining hall squared away.” He gave a quick, approving tilt of the head toward her before adding with a dry edge, “Just don’t promise ‘em too much, we’re fresh outta Dowger Duchess vintages.” "I'll promise nothing more than my presence," she said, with a slight smirk. “Well now, that’s one way to keep expectations manageable. I’ll try the same line next time someone asks me to patch a gasbag in the rain," Carter said with a knowing smile. As Zoe drifted off down the corridor, the sound of her steps fading, he glanced sidelong at Mariner, “Alright then, Captain,” he said, “if we’re serious about this shindig, we’d better make sure there’s some of that good Pobrysh you keep talking about. No sense starting a dance without the right fuel.” He hitched the tool belt higher on his hip and tilted his head toward the passageway. “Come on. Let’s go see what we can dig up before someone else gets to it.”