Crossing Paths Again

Juliana flinches at the glare, still keeping her arms crossed. "We... we could 'ead back after we fuel up," she muttered, her voice growing softer with every statement. If this were any other sort of person, she would have stuck to her guns and would have flat out refused to return. But this was nobility. Nobility had power. Nobility was supposed to be everything she was striving for. Kind, decant, just and brave. Now her views were beginning to be tainted on the just aspect.

Alistair snorted as he stood to his feet with Ethan's help. "Unless it mysteriously appeared in the night, I highly doubt they will find any evidence to suggest foul play. Your friend will probably come off smelling of roses. So long as my servants get their desserts, I truly could care less."

Syme looked from one of them to the other and then nodded and said crisply. "We can discuss it farther while we refill the balloon." He shot a glare at Alistair, but didn't try to continue the argument.

Keeping a strong supportive arm around Alistair, Ethan half carried the man up the stairs toward the free room. As they walked he shot a quizzical look at the man. "That was quite an entrance, fella," he commented and glanced back at Syme followed them a few steps behind and still looking irritated. "You an' the blue-blood know each other uhn?"

Alistair frowned. "Not in any way I would call cordial." He looked at Ethan, glancing him over to assess him. "He believes I am a fraud."

"hrm," Ethan grunted sounding unconcerned, "So I supposed." He ducked through the hall door and glanced at Alistair's face. "Are you a fraud?"

Syme didn't follow them to the cabins but went instead to the forecastle and took out his pipe. He knew Ana objected, but he wasn't feeling in a very obliging mood right at the moment.

Juliana followed up the rear with her arms still crossed and had decided it was a perfect time to disappear into the cockpit to make sure there was no debris in their course.

"hrm," Ethan grunted sounding unconcerned, "So I supposed." He ducked through the hall door and glanced at Alistair's face. "Are you a fraud?"

"Ain' everyone?" Alistair answered, dropping his posh accent for just a brief moment before resuming it again. "I imagine we all have a face we present to the world that is not in keeping with what is within our hearts. The only difference is in whether we are honest with ourselves or not."

"I reck'n so," Ethan said, as he ducked through a doorway and carried Alistair into the extra bedroom. It was very bare; the hammock hadn't even been hung yet.

Setting Alistair down by the wall, Ethan handed him a flask of whiskey from his coat pocket, "I'll go get yeh them clothes an' blanket."

Alistair managed to find his feet after the jelly sensation had subsided a bit. He did take a swig of the whiskey, though. "I would appreciate that," Alistair answered, holding the whiskey flask out for Ethan to take back. This one seemed an unusual sort. He had the air of a man used to fighting. Also, he looked quite underfed, yet had new clothes? He had come into some money recently. His hands were also calloused and well-muscled like a man used to manual labor. Not doubt he was. His accent was a bit hard to place, but there was a distinct Audum tone to it. And he was a skilled pilot? He seemed like he might be as widely learned as Alistair and Alistair, knowing his own character, did not take comfort in that.

"What is your name?" Alistair asked.

"Pace Reagan," Ethan answered. His new name still felt a little strange, but he'd changed names or used false identities often enough that he wasn't worried about it sounding strange to someone he'd just met. "I'm The Heat's navigator." He took back the flask and returned it to his coat. "Yer lucky the capt'n saw yeh fall'n. Not that easy to tell a man from debris in the middle'a the night."

"I would consider myself more fortunate had I not taken a tumble in the first place," Alistair answered. "But that I was spotted and rescued certainly is better luck than falling to my death. I have known others who were not so fortunate."

"That makes two of us," Ethan commented and left to get Syme's spare set of clothes, a bed roll and the bottle of brandy. "Here yeh are," he said as he dropped the bundle beside Alistair. "Warm up and get what rest yeh can. We'll be land'n in an hour."

"Where will we be landing?" Alistair asked as he set aside his cigarette case with care, then removed his wet coat.

"Just a spit o rock, with a small station on it," Ethan replied, "It's a ... a little reclusive, but I know the guy who runs it. Least I use to." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, "It's been a while. Can I get yeh anything else?" he asked, changing the subject.

"No," Alistair answered, stripping off his waistcoat and shirt. "I believe I'll manage for now."

Juliana contemplated. She knew that Lord Syme was correct about going back being their civic duties, but after seeing Alistair out there, looking almost pathetic with his clothes wet and barely able to sit up. There was also the fact she didn't know if he was actually guilty or not. And she shouldn't have cared. He was a part of her crew now, right? That meant anything that happened before a few minutes ago no longer mattered.

With that she stood, moving to put a hand on her side for a moment. Definitely was sore, but she was almost certain it wasn't a broken bone. Though that wasn't her main concern at the moment. Instead, she was more interested in trying to confirm what she suspected.

Heading out of the cockpit and down the hallway with conviction, she came to the door of the spare room, pulling open the door to ask, "Is what Lord Syme said tr-"

Her mouth screwed up tight and her face blushed. She was quick to slam the door closed again and attempt to recover from her embarrassment on the other side. Of course he was changing, they mentioned it a few times before. Why would that change now? Her face continued to get redder at the realization.

With a bit more hesitation and a nice mix of mortified embarrassment, she called in, "Er, is what Lord Syme said true? About the innocent being hanged an' the fraud?"

Ethan slipped out a moment after Ana first opened the door. He couldn't help but smirk slightly at her embarrassed face. Hadn't she ever seen a man's bare chest before? but he didn't say anything. Just gave a lazy doff of his hat and headed for the cockpit.

Ana surprised him slightly by walking in while he was changing, but he thought much less of it than she obviously did. He was not unused to changing around his mother and brothers in his childhood, and even if they were both adults and unrelated the same attitude prevailed.

"I highly doubt that there will be any innocent man hanged or imprisoned," Alistair answered flatly. "Even the worst inspector in the world will be able to tell I left of my own accord." He left the other question alone. He wasn't about to outright state the truth because that would be admitting guilt and defeat.

Ana remained on her side of the door, taking at least some comfort in what he said. She didn't hear anything on the fraud, though decided that a lack of confirmation on it being a falsehood meant it had to be true.

Forcing herself to smile and hoping that it would carry over to her tone, she said through the door again, "Good. Then welcome to the crew. Our course ain't set in stone, but if you're willing to work hard an' be nice to the rest of the crew, you're welcome aboard."

"Very well," Alistair answered, finishing changing into Syme's suit. "I have spent time on airships before, so I think I know enough to be of some use."

"Good!" Ana said, still recovering from her initial embarrassment. "I'll see if I can convince Lord Syme of your innocence."

She didn't bother to wait for an answer, heading down the hallway and back to the cockpit to look out the front window and perhaps get at least a few hints on how to navigate and get a good view of this little rock they were going to.