Varus/Annette

When Marissa had burst into his flat- or had it been the cabin of the Maelstrom, both provided the same materials and it wasn't very important where he had been at the time, only that hid reaction had been amusing, or it would have been to any observers. As it was, he'd been sitting on his stool, goggles in place, (What would America do if he ruined his vision? The war would be over- over.) and working his way over the blueprints he'd been working on for the past few weeks, no one else seemed to understand that not emerging from your quarters for two days was not a "Please come in with food and try to drag me out" sign, but a "Please stay out because I'm nearing a breakthrough" sign, after all, they'd been around him long enough that they should have gotten used to such things.

Heedless of these obvious signs, Marissa had burst in, carrying some kind of sandwich, threatening to shove it down his throat, something stupid about him already being thin and needing food. He'd been very clear that he was absolutely fine, not hungry, and needed her to shut up so he could get work done.

And now he was being shoved on another ship because apparently human interaction was important, and he needed to fulfill the role his rank called on him to, which was a load of refuse, but he wasn't going to argue, this was Marissa. So now, he was properly clothed and washed, with the sour looking redhead beside him, looking like some kind of babysitter, which he did not need.

No really.

He pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes as the ship lowered, tracing it with a look one might usually reserve for small children and puppies, (not kittens, never kittens, they would swallow you whole if given the chance, hellspawn they were.) the whole thing was a bit too much for him, gaudy he could deal with, gaudy was his jacket, bright and red and gold like someone had wrung out the king of France atop the fabric, but this reached a different level, because no one addressed him as Maelstrom anymore, it was a stupid nickname Hans had given him before someone jammed a stick up his ass and made him general, and then somehow wound up being an offical title, but no one used it, at least not to his face, so the addressing was just a little too... Idolizing for his tastes.

Varus fought the incredible urge to roll his eyes as the ship's captain, quite enthusiastically, introduced himself as Hal,and proceeded to go on about how it was an honor to meet him and everything, really, he just wanted to get all this over with and go back to work, he didn't really care if they used some of his technology, from the sound of the ship, it was from a dark time, when he didn't bother with noise cancelling properties, and the fact that he found this so amazing was honestly embarrassing.

There was probably half of the crew out here because the captain felt the need to impress him (He was failing) which would take a sorely large chunk of time that could have been avoided had he allowed everyone to remain in place. As such, he wanted to get going, and with a final glare of rightful fury at the pilot hired to return The Maelstrom to port (if he so much as scratched her he would secure a one way ticket to hell for the unfortunate soul).

"If you don't mind sir," he gritted out after a few more moments of ranting from the captain, he didn't really mind the ego stroking, but the lined up crew looked ready to gut the nearest military official that had been forced to come here against his will. "We'll have plenty of time for talking aboard, hmm?" 

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Possible random stuff to throw in:

• Captain 'o ship has hella hero worship crush just because it'd be funny and complicate things and complication is fun 
• Annette has some strong reason to despise the high ranks, and therefore assumes Varus is a stuckup asshole
• I have to go make pasta but if u come up w/ other stuff tell me

"I don't require an escort, with all due respect, sir." He responded, eyes unwavering, they were not going to saddle him with another Marisa right after he got away from the last one. "I'm sure I can be expected to know the layout of a ship I had the pleasure to assist in the engineering of, and you'd probably be better off with all of your mechanics." He straightened his glove, trying to appear as though he wasn't attempting to manipulate the other man into allowing him to go without a babysitter.

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I'm going to throw love quadrangles at this thing
I hope you are prepared

"They can't, so It's a good thing he's not a general." The Captain snapped back, seeming to have forgotten the misdemeanor in the heat of the moment, "He's just cozy with one," It hadn't exactly been a quiet thing, the Scandal that caused Chief Master Sargent Hanz' wife to leave him, there were direct orders from the top of the chain to avoid all lines of questioning about it. It wasn't exactly good for morale to find out the second in command of the airforce had been sleeping with one of their subordinates, especially so when they were both men, and one was married. Needless to say, it had stained both of their reputations quite darkly.

"Don't flatter me Captain, that relationship was the opposite of cozy, I could show you if you'd like, must be used to taking orders already, like a good little footsoldier, right?" It was rude, it was sassy and out of line, but this is exactly why he was under near to constant supervision, for a genius, the Blond was commonly rather unintelligent. He turned to the side, making eye contact with the short haired girl, "Alright, I'll take your little escort, and we'll hope nothing vital goes missing from the upper deck's heating system, won't we." It was a miracle he hadn't been hit, but good engineers were hard to come by, and most of them were heavily guarded. 

Varus knew this.

As an Engineer, one was near to invincible.

Maybe it was time he share these findings...

"Don't mind him," He straightened his hat, "With such attitude it's a wonder he made it this far, knowing the higher-ups, he'll be demoted soon enough." He followed after her, resisting the urge to take off the hat, whip out his notes, dump any semblance of 'polite' and go right into 'psychologically unstable but smart as hell," seeing as he was far better at the second one.

"You aren't going to take this job so seriously as to follow me into the men's room, are you, I've had ones who've tried that, like I'm going to somehow take the ship down from in the bathroom." He yawned, "It'd take too much effort and I'd be putting us at too much of a risk, a challenge is good, but I'd still rather win the war in the end."

"Well maybe they picked a smart one this time, let's see how long it takes to slip the collar this time," He gave in to the urge and reached into a coat pocket, pulling out a beaten leather journal with papers stuffed in and various notes and folded pages, elegant script proclaiming "Maelstrom" in dark ink was the only thing that set it apart from the numerous others he'd brought along. "Know much about engineering, or just a kid lookin' for some coins?" He waved the book.

He assumed people wouldn't instantly recognize him anymore, after all, he hadn't done much socially since his own ship's creation, so the fact that they still used his creations was rather amusing to the redcoated man, it had been long enough for them to upgrade, what, 8 years? The name Maelstrom wasn't any longer unanimous with the airship industry, no one fainted at the thought of meeting he whom the name referred to, (at least it hadn't happened to him in the past few months) and no one recognised him without introduction, but the journal's presence should make it obvious to any engineer worth their two cents, he'd been big, had his time in the sun, then stepped back. No one had taken his spot, it was waiting and warm, and he wanted it back damn it.

"Oh come on, that's so weak, where was the sass from before hu?" He swung open the door they'd stopped infront of "I was hoping for something a little more emotional, grovelling at my feet actually isn't an unusual reaction, let's start with that one, I have to say I am a fan."

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This is going to be so much military politics you have no idea