Aboard the Lafette

[Atlas Mason] It was early evening, and the scrapyards were closed at last, and that meant that after a day of searching, haggling and rummaging for decent, workable material's Atlas and his motorcycle rumbled along the dockyard pier's heading for the massive silouette of the Lafette. It was amazing that so few noticed it, but Atlas knew why, and he was thankful for it, especially as the Lafette was in the databanks of the Technocracy...a set of plays who have been slowly returning to the city of Chicago.

His motorcycle is as loud and obvious as ever, made even more so by the hefty pile of scrap metal which sits upon a flat bed that the poor machine diligently towed behind it. All manner of metals and material sat upon it, and one might wonder what Atlas would do with it all, but a mage of matter did not concern himself with such things...as all things inert were within his control.

[Morgan Lake] Mages tripping over each other in Chicago is no odd occurrence; for all that Morgan had avoided the Mile for awhile after her trip to China, she's now returned to her old stomping grounds. She knows the habits her father and his friends keep, and most of her once-friends from school are too busy getting ready to head to their respective colleges to pay too much attention to who they may or may not see while they're out shopping. Now is like any other evening at about this time - Morgan's out for her second run (two short runs one day, one long the next, lather, rinse, repeat) and thus in her running clothes, sweaty and ponytailed.

That sound, though, not far ahead of her? Where Atlas is pulling his motorcycle to a park? She knows that sound. Steps speed just a bit to bring her even, then slow to stretching, lunge steps that end in more stationary stretches as she smiles at the older Etherite.

"Hey," she says, friendly (for her). "Been awhile. Need a hand with all that stuff?"

[Atlas Mason] He had rarely ever randomly encountered someone on the steps of his abode, let alone a mage, the magic that kept the Lafette secret was one of those reasons, the other being the derelict nature of the dockyard that his ship inhabited, few people ever ventured this far from the gleam and pomp of the Mile itself....but here was Morgan, the young woman he had met once as he dismounted and killed the engine he heard her greeting and turned, a surprised smile on his face.

"Ahhh Chronologically pubecent Miss Lake, your arrival at this juncture within this time frame is theoretically unprecedented. In addition meta-physical laws of perception and actuality query at your capability to be at this juncture at this time frame. But the intrinsic noosphere of my personage is positively aligned at your manifestation at this time unit."

He looks briefly over at his huge pile of scrap and shakes his head with a dismissive gesture. "The catalogue and accounting of this materiel has already been completed to acceptable guidelines for monitoring the incumbent levels of available raw materials." He looks her over. "However, the nature of your physical structure at this moment within the temporal linear progression indicates towards a direct necessity of electrolite infused fluidics...would you care for some?"

[Morgan Lake] They have, actually, met more than once - not often, and not regularly, but Morgan's enjoyed Atlas' company each of those few times - a handful, perhaps, not likely more. So there's still blinking and adjusting to Atlas-ese, and translation in her head that gets quicker each time they meet, much like she gets a little more of James' sign language each time they meet. And so, her answer, "I'm not that young, you know." But it's with a smile and amusement rather than the affront she might take at someone closer to her own age saying similar.

Then there's the rest, which takes less time to process simply because of the mention of electrolytes - the smile widens, and she nods. "You keep Gatorade around? That'd be awesome. I just left with water."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas looks perplexed at the word gatorade and scratches the top of his head as he tries to puzzle that out. "Gatorade? Why would your physical structure require an assistance device or substance intended for amphibious carnivorous reptiles of the family Alligatoridae?" He asks, not entirely certain what it was the woman was referring to.

"I maintain a sizeable supply of electrolyte infused H20 solution available here at this solid linear stationary plane that is currently utilized to harbour and re-nominalize the Lafette."

He moves to the chainlink fence before them and pushes it open, revealing the pier beyond, despite the fact that it might have been right infront of her eyes. Morgan might be somewhat surprised to realize there is infact a ship right here. The ship itself looked almost as derelict as the pier, its full 350 feet of length barely contained within the safety limits of the pier itself. The ship almost looked like an old WW2 destroyer without the armaments. But where it may have at one time been regal, and almost stately in its prime, the ship was now dark and ruined, The signs of repairs and reconstruction are evident upon the hull of the ship, great swaths of fresh steel plating had been welded and attached to the sides, covering holes that would make many mariner's shiver with fear. They could tell that the ship had seen worse days, but it would be a long time before it would see its prime once more.

Barely recognizable, with filth and rust coating the side of the ship is the name "Lafette". The ships gangplank sat extended, and untouched. Atlas steps through the fencing, gesturing Morgan onward through the construction site to a cooler that sat nearby and he popped open the lid and pulled out a bottle of..well it looks like water and hands it to her.

"This solution should assist with the continued functionality of your chemical biological structures for the next several time units of stress induced physical acceleration and musculature augmentation."

[Morgan Lake] "Thanks," she says, easy, having made her way through the fence and taken in the pier behind that she could have sworn wasn't there a moment ago . . . but then, she lives at Blackstone Castle. She's hardly unaccustomed to places of extreme arcane; the house pops up out of nowhere much like the ship did. And so the water's accepted, and sipped tentatively to test for taste and other oddities before a bigger swig is taken. It's only once that's done that she truly looks at the ship, which is . . . something out of a movie to her, a horror story about a war that was fought and won before her parents were born, when her grandparents were old enough to have been involved. She takes it in with wide eyes, ruin and repair alike.

"Dude," she says, and it seems to be a good thing - she's an uptight Hermetic, certainly, but she's also an eighteen year old girl. "Where'd you find something like this? I don't think they have them lying around on craigslist or whatever. It's . . . got potential, for sure."

Not that she knows much about boats, mind - she's been sailing a few times with friends, and on a cruise or two in her life, but that's not enough to give her much of a clue about anything to do with this. It's another thing entirely, this destroyer-type thing. Regardless, from where she stands? It looks pretty impressive, if only for the work put into it. But then, there's the question about Gatorade to be answered, and she does so, wryly.

"I don't know why it's called Gatorade, really. It's flavored water with electrolytes added in, and athletes use it on workouts. There are a few other brands that are the same thing, but it's kind of like kleenex or post-it. Everything in the same class gets called by the name of the best known."

[Atlas Mason] "Ahhh moniker association in an area of ideologically and utilization similarity, I see." He says with a rubbing of his chin, the look on his face pleased and just a little entertained. "The assigned title and identifier however is an inappropriate descriptor for this intended product. Remarketing and material branding should be considered."

His mind seems to have wandered off onto the topic of the gatorade, but then he comes around and realizes that Morgan was indeed talking about his ship...talking about it like it was some relic the man had acquired from a junk dealer and he laughs lightly as he shakes his head slightly.

"Your statement is incorrect Morgan, I did not locate and appropriate this vessel as you infer. My personage was present at its original founding and creation, along with the proceeding development of its Scientific capabilities. The primary theories at the basis of this vessel are mine, and simply extrapolated along parallel lines to produce the phenomena and desired results which the Lafette was fully capable of when at one hundred percent of total functionality. However, recent junctures within the temporal linear progression have induced catastrophic level failure of the vessels systems, I have been allocating a majority of my available time unit's towards it re-nominalization."

[Morgan Lake] (Wits + enigmas to understand Atlas-ese + Science!)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Morgan Lake] "You . . . were . . ." There's a pause then, as she does some quick calculation and study of her current host; it doesn't really make sense to her, what he's said, and it's taken a little longer than usual to translate because of it. "You were of military age in the early to mid 40s?" Her eyes, hazel, are young but intense; they look for details and weigh them, they discern and judge. There's a weight inherent in that gaze that few her age manage, and a serious of demeanor that fewer still hold.

"You look awfully good for eighty-something. Or was it . . . temporal dislocation?" The phrase is odd to her, but as into pop culture there is, there's no way she hasn't seen some sci fi thing or another that referenced such things. "And you can tell me if I'm being rude - I don't mean to be. It's just . . . well."

She's learning, and has aspirations of becoming a lawyer and more. Facts and details are pretty important to her, all told; the more of them she has, the better she feels. The better prepared she is to offer defense or whatever's necessary, should there be a trial of some sort.

[Atlas Mason] Atlas nods at that, apparently the young woman had not been informed of his condition, and it was time to enlighten her it would seem. "The solar traversal cycle in which my physical structure became chemically and biologically independent of my genetically aligned and parentalogical female is 1912. I was quite capable at the escalation of hostilities between geo-political states to assist in the co-ordinated offensive and defensive structure."

He seems to think back for a moment, before speaking again. "It is not temporal dislocation or disjunction from the temporal acceleration as you infer, but a cessation and immunity to the standard entropic effect of time and natural degredation of the physical chemical biological form which sustains my physicality as you currently perceive it. The particulars that enable this phenomena are quite Frotean and currently unquantifiable."

He says it like its fact and simply shrugs. The man is almost 100 years old at this point, and he simply shrugs at it like its nothing, but then..when your almost 100 years old perhaps it really is nothing to gawk at.

[Morgan Lake] ".....huh," is her particularly in-eloquent reaction to this; it's quite puzzling, what could make a man live to nearly a hundred years old and still look like he's in his twenties or thirties. And then, "That . . . kind of has to suck, in a way. But awesome to have so long to work and learn, yeah?"

She blushes, and knows this is far from the most polite response - but still, what he's offered her is fascinating, and she does think it must suck to watch most of the people one knows get old and die, to have to move from place to place so no one catches on, and so forth. It makes her think of vampire stories, which is momentarily amusing, but mostly? Mostly, she wants to know about what it's been like to live that long, to have seen all he's seen. And also, about the ship.

"I can't even imagine, you know? To have lived through some of the richest times in history, or at least American history. Horrible times too, sure, but man. Have you spent all that time working on the ship, then?" She looks out at it, musing. "Well, I suppose a lot of it, anyway. They don't make that same kind of ship anymore, I don't think. Do they? I'm hardly an expert."

But as ever, knowing more is useful.

[Atlas Mason] Questions questions questions, if there was one thing that Atlas loved, it was questions. And like most people who learned about Atlas' situation there were plenty of those to be had, even if they might be questions he had answered time and time again, in a variety of different ways.

"The class and designation that this vessel is based upon is no longer produced en mass via any known geo-political conglomeration within the current temporal linear delination. I have actualized in conjunction with this vessel for the last fifty solar traversal cycles. However its concurrent state has not been in effect until my arrival within this urban center."

"Also my personage has not been present within the locality of the geo-political state of the republic of the united states of america for that entire passage of time."

[Morgan Lake] "Well, no, I'd imagine not. I wouldn't be, if I had an indefinite amount of time to travel and do whatever I wanted. How many languages have you learned, and which ones? And . . . oh, man. I don't know whether to be envious or not. I mean, there are obvious drawbacks. But the perks!"

She's looking at the Lafette more than she is at him, though he gets glances every now and then as well - by looks, he's nearly twice her age when in truth [ah, truth] . . . well, his truth is so very much more interesting.

"So something about landing here and now messed her up? Do you know what?" She can guess at it being paradox, which is no small thing, nothing to be sneezed at, or at it being that Lake Michigan simply isn't made for destroyers. "If I knew anything about it, I'd offer to help. Best I can do is repaint the name, really."

[Atlas Mason] He smiles kindly at the young woman as she offers to assist, even if it is just to give the name on the vessel a bit of shine and a new lettering. He looks up at the vessel and then back to Morgan before explaining something. "Any assistance your physical and noospheric capabilties are capable of rendering would be accepted without judgment or recrimination Morgan. This vessel was constructed as instrument of evaluation, frotean discovery and data assimilation. Its current state of existence does not preclude it from being fully capable of actualizing its intended purpose."

He steps up next to her and pats her on the shoulder ever so briefly. "Since my arrival within this locality seven paradigmically abled individuals have assisted, utilizing their own capabilities, two have taken up residence within the Lafette's structure and concurrently provide regular assistance in the nominalization of its structure. Your assistance is of no lesser intrinsic value."

He steps aside then, moving to grab one of the waters for himself, it was warm out afterall. "I have assimilated approximately fourteen seperate languages and dialects, however I am currently fluent in only three those being the vocalized conversative methodologies of english, french and german. It is confirmed that without continual use of such knowledge its intrinsic use and retention is minimized." He says wryly, almost like it was joke.

"The nominalization degredation that ocured subsequent to my arrival within the H20 body known as Lake Michigan is acredited to a catastrophic planar locality shift due to repeated subjection of the ships particulars to violent extra-dimensional energies."

[Morgan Lake] ".....I don't know what all of that means, this time," she says a bit ruefully. "But I think it's because science was never really my thing. Well, other than the bits about . . . you know, more standard energy. Kinetic, electric, that kind of thing. I'm more of a . . . social sciences kind of girl, I guess. Civics, law, government, that sort of thing."

The last gets answered first as it's the easiest brought to mind, though the middle bit gets a hint of a smile, even as she subtly steps away when it seems he might touch her; she's keen on her personal space, is Morgan, and doesn't trust many to get close enough to touch her, let alone to actually do so. (Though at least now the very idea of contact doesn't turn her into a bundle of nerves either violent or sobbing, so there's that.) She doesn't have a father figure these days, Miss Lake, and if he doesn't watch out? Atlas may find himself in that role. She actually likes him, which is fairly rare, and he's interesting. "Oh, I know I can do things that are useful. And I tend to learn quickly. So, you know. Building stuff wasn't in my volunteer hours much - I was more soup kitchen than Habitat, and even if I'd done the latter, I don't think it'd help much with ship repair." Which doesn't mean she wouldn't try, and learn in the process, as she said? It just means she knows what her current skill set includes.

"I only know Chinese. Well, I'm fluent in both major dialects, but it's not as useful now as it was supposed to be. I was going to do a year abroad - study in a Chinese university while doing an internship at the Shanghai branch of MarCom," which is, for those with intel on that level, a Technocracy shop (mostly Syndicate and NWO), "and then come back home to finish out pre-law with a double minor in poli-sci and international affairs." There's a shrug, and she's not as bummed about it as she once was - she can talk about it, a little, without clamming up and getting upset. Never mind that she shouldn't; sometimes people have to talk, or explode.

"So, yeah. If you have a project day that won't be hindered by a novice and need a hand, give me a call. I'm in."

[Atlas Mason] "You will be informed in subsequent time frames of specific instances of effort assertion upon this vessel. In addition Morgan if at any juncture you desire to locate your personage aboard this vessel your are authorized to do so, to assimilate data from the informational data storage facility, to undertaking personalized repairs or utilization of theory actualization space. In addendum a tenative offer of domicile and habitation is extended should such necessity arise."

He doesn't seem upset by her need to avoid him touching her, she didnt get violent or swear at him, so he simply assumed that it was a personal space thing, and so he let her have her space as he stood there, arms behind his back looking up at the ship, and then the sky, and then to the waters below as if connecting them in his mind.

"It is understandably unfortunate that efforts to traverse the pacific primary oceanic body were neutralized. I am however certain that other opportunities for expansion of your neuro synaptic capabilities will arise given sufficient time degradation.

[Morgan Lake] She looks at him, and it's not as far up as one might imagine - he's only an inch and a half taller than she, so it's not much difference at all. There's blinking, though, and surprise. Use of a library and some sort of study space, yeah, she gets that. But . . . "You're offering crash space?" This is the source of the blinking, more than anything else. If she had books or lab space to offer, she probably would - but letting people into her space these days just . . . doesn't happen. Not often, anyway.

"I . . . um . . . thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

She's quiet for a long moment, then, looking out at sky, water and ship much like Atlas is; it takes time to come back to the rest of the conversation after that. "Oh, it may. China's a lot bigger than just Shanghai, and there are other companies with legal departments that could use undergrad grunt work. But I'm cool here for now - I think I'm going to shift my focus, anyway. In law, I mean. Not so much corporate and financial stuff."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas nods at her appreciation of his offer, he hadn't expected her to take it up straight away, but he had wanted to put the offer on the table at least so she knew that i was there, he was doing that more and more lately, either he was trying to collect mages, or he wanted to make the Lafette a more viable location...an alternative perhaps.

"To which division of societal codification do you intend to retask your synaptic functionality?" He asks with a hint of curiosity. "As an addendum, what particular juncture or set of individual instances or choices defined the geo-political state of China as your primary choice of locality for this study?"

[Morgan Lake] "Poli-sci will stay, with a focus on policy, as will international affairs. I'll just have more of an eye on societal good than corporational. And China because . . ." here, she shrugs, pauses, glances his way then back at the Lafette. "My mom is fantastic at languages. I'm not so much, but I picked up Chinese. So, she got me the internship at the company she works for - at the Shanghai branch in specific. I think she thought if she encouraged me to gain full fluency in one non-native language, I'd have an easier time picking up others."

But, that she has no desire to talk more about that is clear - it's in her body language, the press of her lips, the way her arms wrap around her waist protectively, the way she shivers just slightly though the air hasn't gotten any cooler.

"Did you always want to captain a ship?"

[Atlas Mason] Atlas listens to her divulge parts of her past, parts of what makes her her, and its made all the more important, all the more meaningful by the womans refusal to go any further, it indicates to Atlas that this information lays at the heart of a very important matter to the young woman, however he doesn't push, infact he lets the matter fall silent as Morgan inquires about his captaincy. He chuckles and smiles ruefully before shaking his head.

"This was never officially assigned a primary operator and captaincy individual. The Vessel's completion was interrupted by Technocratic assault, my personage being the only viable individual aboard the Lafette at that juncture relegated the duty to preserve and disallow capture of its structure by the Conglomerative efforts of the Union."

[Morgan Lake] ".....I'm sorry to hear that," she says sincerely, though she has little in her experience that makes her empathize - sympathize, sure, but there's no empathy on this. "Good job on keeping her safe and out of their hands, though. I don't like the thought of what they'd do to her, if they could."

This has a double meaning, or could - she doesn't like a lot of things she's learning about the Technocracy, despite her initial inability to see them as bad. More and more, as she grows into what she's become, she hates them - for what they've done to the world, to people she cares about, and yes, to her. There are factors that make this issue both easier and more complicated to her, but those go unstated, much as the vast majority of her history.

[Atlas Mason] "Only in the termination of my physical chemical biological structure, the cessation of my neuro synaptic functionality and the de-polarization of my ecto-plasmic extra dimensional trace signature will this vessel enter into custodianship of an alternative socio-political-paradigmic conglomeration." He says with complete certainty as he nods to the woman next to him.

He takes a moment once more to look at his ship, the damage it's once proud and might form has sustained and Morgan can tell he see's far more then just a ruined ship that may or may not ever once again be the glory that it was. His gaze holds for several more moments, before he blinks and looks over to the Hermetic once more.

[Morgan Lake] "Well, we'll just have to hope no such termination happens," she says in a tone that's the verbal equivalent of a friendly shoulder bump; she's not so keen on physical contact, perhaps, but that doesn't mean she doesn't connect with those around her in the best way she knows how. "Will you give me a tour?"

It's a little question, that, before she sips the water - which isn't bad at all. "It's like SmartWater. Too bad you didn't patent it first, you'd be rolling in the profits."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas chuckles and shakes his head. "Science is not effected or theorized upon to produce or regulate a flow of monetary compensation Morgan, it is actualized to improve by increasingly exponential factors the understanding, capabilities and wonderment factors of the intrinsic homo sapien sapien populace of this dimensional cyclical roaming body." He speaks like a father figure, correcting her but not doing so in any way that could be taken poorly. He nods then, and gestures towards the gang plank that would take them up onto the deck of the ship proper.

"Movate your lower locomotive bipedal systems and we shall investigate and identify key localities within the vessel's primary physical structure including the data information repository, the light space fold drive systems and the central command and control observational post."

[Morgan Lake] "Maybe not, but the money that comes from patenting and marketing an invention could well fund the furthering of science. It's a necessary evil, an income is." She takes the correcting well, and offers her own rebuttal - but then there's the matter of a tour at hand, and she grins at the Atlas-speak. "My lower locomotive bipedal systems were born motivated, Mr . . . Atlas. And I can't wait to see these key localities in Lafette's primary physical structure. Although . . . I don't know what most of the rest of what you just said means. I get central command and control observational post, but the rest sounds like something out of sci fi to me."

She's smiling, though, and goodnatured - he doesn't know how rare that is these days.

[Atlas Mason] Atlas smiles and gestures towards the gangplank. "Laymen's vocalization terminology and corralative vocabulary would identify these to localities as the Library, and the Engine housing. Both terms are ineffectual for proper descriptive comparison for these localities as they are ineffective to describe the functionality of the mechanisms within these physical structures."

He begins to walking towards the gangplank and begins to walk up the thin bridge of wood and metal. There were cables and larger scale trunking that wound up and down the gangplank as well, making walking a slight more precarious then one might hope, but when you take your time, its easy enough to ascend. "The electron transducing trunking systems are still necessary at this juncture of time. The primary light conversion energy absorption frames have not yet been reactivated. Do adhere to necessary safety protocol's to ascend and locate your personage aboard the primary plane of this vessel."

When the reach the top she can see that far more work then was evident has been done to ensure this vessel's safety, a hefty majority of the deck itself is newly furnished plating, most of it having been stripped away, or remolded.

[Morgan Lake] She follows him and is, of course, careful; it would hardly do to fall off the plank or some such nonsense, to have to go home wet and cold. (What a sight it would be for those looking, though, and lucky she knows how to swim.) Up on deck, she walks a bit easier; she's been sailing many times (not as a sailor, but a passenger), and so it doesn't take much at all to get used to the gentle rock and sway of the ship with the light waves that buffet it.

The deck is paced, examined, and though she doesn't know much about ships themselves, she knows enough to recognize quality workmanship when she sees it - this gets a smile, and appreciative looks as her hand runs over a bit of rail here, a coil of rope there. "She's beautiful, even now. I hope I get to see her all done."

[Atlas Mason] "Primary mundane reality reconstruction and nominalization of the ships structure is 84.529% complete ascetic principals and priorities aside. The vessel is currently nominally prepared for trans-oceanic movation and circuitous spherical travel of the primary dimensional body is rated at a 80.233% success ratio baring unforseen aberrant factors." He says somewhat proud of that achievement, for being one man with only a few helpers he had achieved quite a bit in the time he'd been in the city.

He led her down the deck towards an open hatch, his 'front door' as it were and stepped within. Still more warship, then grand etheric cruiser, many of the walls and floors have been scarped bare, returning them to their original gray and green. But here and there, the old grandeur of the ship can still be seen in its decayed state. What was once a plush red carpet that covered the floor from wall to wall is now a a mouldering mess, the walls themselves once bore tasteful and rich wooden paneling and were accented with brass and bronze trim and railings, all of which are now broken or rusted beyond repair.

One constant however, regardless of whether the area has been stripped of its accouterments are the strange glass piping, These thick glass pipes crisscross the ceilings, run within the walls, and in some cases form seamlessly with the floor, but in most cases these pipes are shattered and broken, only a few jagged pieces remaining where they once joined with the bulkheads.

[Morgan Lake] "What were the pipes for?" Most of it, she at least sort of gets - some are likely for a waste system of some sort, some for heating water, and so on. Some, though, she doesn't. She's a smart girl, and learns quickly, but this is clearly outside of anything she's experienced before. "The broken ones, I mean. And obviously, a lot of work's been done."

It's wonder, really - the ship baffles her, much of the work done baffles her, the inner workings certainly baffle her. This is far from a class- or courtroom, far from a case to be tried, and still she finds it fascinating, if largely because of its connection with a gentleman she finds herself liking quite a bit for some reason she doesn't quite understand.

(He reminds her of the father she hasn't seen in months, in some ways - in the complete immersion in his interests and expertise, and the equally incomprehensible second language she has to fight her way through to understand, though her father's had been about gods and myths and folk and fairylore where Atlas' is about Science.)

"She's amazing," she reiterates at the end, rephrasing her earlier compliment.

[Atlas Mason] "Your positively aligned verbal appreciative testament is appropriately recieved and catalogued Emily." He says with a warm smile as he moves along.

Atlas looks briefly up at the glass tubes which ran overhead, or at least the remainder of their former existence, shards and cracked remains only. He glances only briefly as he moves towards a stairwell, not stopping for them it would seem, but he does explain, in his own way.

"The polymer cylindrical transfer modules..or tubes which you are spectrally viewing and referring in vocaliztion towards were the vessels primary data transfer and storage utility mechanism. The vessel relied primarily upon data infused spectral light pulses and streams as a storage and transit medium, which contained within one ten unit time frame is the equivelent to the standardized informational storage unit of five hundred terabytes of data."

He says as he weaves their way down the stair well to well below the water line, leading her towards the bow of the ship.

[Morgan Lake] "....." She has little idea what most of what he says means, up unto the 'five hundred terabytes' - she's not particularly savvy, but she's of a generation that has never not had computers and the internet, and cell phones, and all that sort of thing. She knows from memory and data storage of the mundane variety, which helps understand the rest - more or less. "Wow." It's ineloquent, and she blushes a hint. "That's pretty . . . impressive. A lot of data. Hopefully without lolcats."

All this as she'd following, eager to see more - for all that she can't fully understand or appreciate what she's being shown, she definitely knows it's a huge undertaking, and an awesome (in the true sense of the word) amount that's been done already.

"And they had all this in . . . what, the 30s? That's amazing."

[Atlas Mason] "Etheric Science is limited only by the fundamental understanding and capabilties of the Scientist's neuro synaptic functionality. This particular set of principles enables Etheric Science to exceed the standardized curvature of scientific progressment, utilization and adaptation by a minimum factor of ten." He says as he seems to heading towards a bulkhead door that is still closed.

"This vessel's system's compared via primary statistics to that of computational capabilities of systems housed within the dimensional plane identified as the Gernsback Continuum, would render this particular systematic design and capabilities as relativistically innert and undeveloped." He says with a chuckle as he reaches the door and begins spinning the lever on it, she can hear a hiss, pressure equalizing before the man swings open the door and reveals what lay beyond.

Taking up the entire structure of the bow of the Lafette, the Library of the ship is a grandiose affair onboard a ship of this size, it encompasses three decks, from the bottom of the boat, to the deck above as its ceiling. The room is oddly circular within a ship made of angles and straight lines, but its purpose is clear...information.

Each level is laid out much the same and each is joined by a long spiraling ramp way that allows for book trolleys and people to move from level to level, on each level rows upon rows of books sit categorized and waiting for the touch of human hands, many of them are mundane affairs, science texts, novels, and a plethora of others, but a good portion of them are enlightened from ancient and bound mystical texts to Etheric theories on forces and matter a great deal of knowledge is stored within this climate controlled marvel.

The space is given a feeling of openness thanks in part to the fact that in the center of the circular room each level is open to the next people protected from falling by a ornate bronze railing, and in the center of this open space,sits a large glass cylinder that one might almost call a lava lamp with great floating and viscous shapes which slide within and over one another, and radiate a dry, pleasant heat and a warm light just suitable for reading.

[Morgan Lake] And here, Morgan stops, stares with wide eyes - the rest of the ship had been impressive, awe-inspiring, amazing and any number of other adjectives, this place has her speechless. This place has her at home, compliments her coloring, her attitude - the only place she'd fit in as well is a courtroom.

"May I?" She just gestures, indicating the whole place - she wants to roam, to explore, to pull this book or that off of the shelf, to read, to study, to learn. The latter three, though, will likely wait for later - some time alone, perhaps, when she'd not be being such an ungracious guest as all of that. "This place is . . . oh. One day, I will have a library, and a Library, of my own. Do you smell that?" She inhales deeply, turned toward a shelf - it's the smell of leather and paper and ink and glue, and she loves it. And assuming permission's granted, she's wandering to pull out this tome or that, to read an interesting paragraph or two before returning any given book to its shelf, and grinning at Atlas every now and then.

"I could live in here," she says after a bit, when she comes back to his side.

[Atlas Mason] Atlas laughs and seems quite happy with the younger woman's excited nature, even if it was more for the books on the shelves then for the room itself. He gestures about. "The data stored within these units is available to any individualized personage habitating aboard this vessel Morgan. Within this instance as well as any required instances your personage my access the data available within this storage area as well." He says as he moves towards one of the high backed chairs, moving to take a seat as she explores.

"Habitation within this particular locality would prove unhygienic after the first twenty four time units have passed, given to the simplistic state of this locality containing no acceptable receptical for homo sapien sapien nutrient waste and by product. The problem would be increasingly compounded by factors of two given to the lack of appropriate nutrient derivable comestables within the immediate physical space."

He says that plainly with a raised brow, perhaps hes amused by her statement or maybe it really just is that plane to him.

[Morgan Lake] "Oh, Mr. Mason," she says, laughing in a girlish way that he hasn't heard from her yet - it's a pleasure, and a glimpse of her as team captain Morgan, as homecoming court Morgan, as Most Likely to Become Speaker of the House Morgan. "Hyperbole. Know it, love it. It's just a figure of speech."

And, if he's going to make friends with teenagers, he'll need to get used to it as surely as she'll need to get used to Atlas-ese. There are a few more books looked at, close to where he sits, and then she assumes a chair across from him, leans against the arm and absently nibbles a pinky nail while looking at him.

"There are quotes about the written word being as good as food and drink, you know. But I think that while paper would provide lots of fiber, it'd be terribly dry and flavorless."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas nods in agreement. "Physical consumption and comestation of the articles in question would also rendered any contained information permanently negated. An unacceptable result in any situation." Maybe he's joking? Or maybe the man is really just that literal most of the time. Regardless he sat there quite comfortably and watches Morgan from across the tiny space that seperated their chairs, and therefore them.

He found this other Morgan intriguing, not because she was more forthwith but because she simply seemed...more intune with herself. "Would your find it acceptable to movate towards another locality Morgan? Or does your noospheric principles and internalized check's and balances infer that remaining within this physical locality more fruitful?"

[Morgan Lake] She glances around them - at the books, at the lava lamp lighting the room, at the railings - all of it, and sighs exaggeratedly, more teasing than anything else. "I suppose we could go somewhere else. But why anyone would want to is a mystery to me."

Not really - but yes, it's clear this is her favorite of what she's been shown so far, wonderment at all of it aside. "Lead on, MacDuff," she says, rising, and yes . . . she's a very different Morgan here, where she's so pleased and somewhat tricked into her more natural state, than she was even outside its door while still on the ship.

[Atlas Mason] Atlas raises a brow now, confused, uncertain, more pop culture references perhaps onces he did not understand, its the problem with being out of the loop for so long. "MacDuff?" He inquries as he stands, a wry smile on his face. "That identifier holds no synonamous meaning or otherwise within my extended and intensive vocabulary."

He moves towards the door, rubbing his chin as he tries to decipher its meaning, in some cases, he would succeed. But in this case, there just isnt enough to go off of.

[Morgan Lake] ".....you've never read Shakespeare? Really?" This baffles her as much as the workings of the ship, much as it had baffled her when Ashley hadn't read things she considers classics - no doubt Atlas will find a bag of books at his door one day, all Morgan-approved. "MacDuff is a character in Macbeth, and that's a quote that's been famous for centuries."

But from there? From there, there's more ship to be seen and wondered over, and bonding to be had, and Morgan's internal plotting to bring literature and baked goods the next time she visits.