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[The scene opens in the dining facility.]
Tarrant arrives from the Central Atrium.
Tarrant has arrived.
Corian is seated at a small table in the back, as per usual. Again, as usual,
she's forgotten about her food. Her datapad is, after all, so much more
interesting.
Tarrant enters with his usual swagger, his unhurried steps taking him through
the line to acquire a glass of iced tea and a bowl of some stewish-soup-like
substance replete with a stack of crackers. Spotting you amidst the sea of
table he just grins in that rather less than trustworthy fashion he has and
sets off. Navigating to your location he drops into a chair opposite, voice
all but a purr as he greets you, "Good afternoon, Miz Treston, and how are
you on this fine day?"
Corian lifts her gaze from the datapad as she catches her name, then offers a smile that is pleasant, if a bit abstracted. "I am doing quite well, and yourself?" She tips her head slightly to one side, smile turning somewhat quizzical. "Matter of fact, I was going to try to find you today. I wanted to ask you about the... situation surrounding the late Chair's death."
Tarrant's brows tilt in an expression of marked innocence, although his tone is
apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from work. I
apologize." He crumbles a cracker into the stew substance. "I'm as fine a
June bug in Mayflower bush." There's a beat long pause, and his tone is
innocent, "The sit'ation?"
Corian makes a dismissive little gesture. "It is of no moment. The work can wait, and I would rather speak with you." She looks decidedly unfooled by the innocence of your voice. "It isn't necessary that you tell me, of course. I am just, perhaps, a bit curious as to whether you were involved."
The brows lower, and Tarrant just looks amused rather than innocent, "Now darling, I don't do deletions like that, not my style. Everybody -knows- that one t'weren't natural. Now while I've done a couple of obvious ones in my time, I do prefer there at least be a -hint- of doubt. No style in it. Not that I'm objecting much, style or none, it was work well done."
Corian nods her agreement to that, expression thoughtful and perhaps a bit
relieved. "Do you know who -was- behind it, then, Tarrant? As you say, it
does seem rather obvious. I have heard quite a few rumors, but nothing
concrete."
Tarrant regards you at length a moment, and then shakes his head before spooning
up a bite of his meal. "I couldn't tell you for certain. It didn't come out
of my department certainly. But they were expecting it to happen, so it must
have been well arranged somewhere along the line. I've heard some rumors as
well, pretty nasty ones."
Corian's brows lift as well. She ponders your words for a moment, fingers
steepling, then shakes her head fractionally. "There are those," she says
slowly, "Who are suggesting that my brother is responsible for the incident.
I know it is not so, of course." Her features crease into a faint frown, and
she shakes her head once more.
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Tarrant considers that a moment, munching on his meal before replying. "I've
heard those. They seem to dovetail neatly in with those that say Lexington
was set-up. Used as a puppet-toy. There's a lot of gossip that setting him
up's how Addison managed to endure all Lexington dished out of late. And
others saying that re-assigning Major Aleron sent him off the deep end. Tripe
of course, and I don't even know the man. Lexington's appointment was far too
neat a job to be an act of rage."
Corian nods her agreement to that, her expression thoughtful. "I do know him,"
she says softly, "And there's really no way he did this." She rubs one hand
with the other, adding, "Tarrant, do you have any positive rumors? Something
that would, perhaps, turn this -away- from Riley? I wouldn't ask, in any
other situation..."
Tarrant looks rather decidedly torn on this one, old friend, the job, old friend, the job, rather -attractive- old friend... "Let me say, to have had the power to pull this off, folks shouldn't be looking so far from the hot seat of power. Riley may have had a motive, but he sure as hell's toasty didn't have the only one. And for the kicker, he didn't have the power. He couldn't keep Lexington from re-arranging his household up there, how would he have the setup to get the man killed? He's too obvious, which in this kind of game means he's one of the targets, not one of the gunmen."
Corian nods thoughtfully at that, finally keying off her datapad. "That he
surely is," she agrees, with a smile that's half a grimace. "I just hope that
others realize that as well. It seems absurd to me that he would even be
considered for this, but there are enough others talking about it that I
still worry."
"There's not enough to pin a charge on him," Tarrant pauses to sip at his tea.
"Let alone anything else. Although, if this has its roots where I think it
does... Well, he'd best watch his back, you know what I mean? If he's already
got a target painted on it, it's not long before somebody doesn't miss."
Isn't he such a kind and comofrting individual?
Corian draws herself up a bit straighter at that, fair skin going just a bit
paler. Very kind and comforting. She doesn't ask you for any further
information, though something about her expression suggests that she'd like
to do just that. "I will speak with him about that," she says slowly. "I do
believe you may be right."
Tarrant crumbles another cracker into his stew. "You might," he adds, although he looks rather startled at himself for doing so, "Want to point out to him, that things, and people, who appear to be windfalls, might have fallen from the tree cause the worm's already gotten to the core."
Corian nods slowly, thoughtful expression only hinting at the turning gears. "I
will tell him that, yes." She pauses for a moment, throttling that urge to
ask for more information, then shakes her head. "Thank you, Tarrant. Your
help is most appreciated."
Tarrant reaches up, tipping that imaginary hat to you. "Any time, darlin'. Any
time. You have but to ask and I'm at your service."
Just what every well bred young woman needs, a pet assassin.
Corian's smile is wan, but genuine nonetheless. "And that, too, is appreciated--but please do not do anything to jeopardize yourself or your job. I would not like for that to happen on my account."
Tarrant nods to that, crisply breaking another cracker in half. "I'm a little too sneaky for that. I've been around at this too long to go about doing things to get myself caught or caught out. The kids these days are all sloppy, no sense of -style-, no sense of well.. -sense-. Off doing stupid things cause they didn't bother to think things through. This doesn't look like a professional set up though. Oh the actual accident was, definately a pro, but the idea itself? By someone wanting power."
Corian's smile now is perhaps a little sheepish. "Please forgive me if I offended," she murmurs. "It is very easy to forget that you have been doing this for longer than it seems." At your last statement, she nods thoughtfully, those gears turning once more. "Yes," she agrees quietly.
Tarrant offers you a wink, although it's a teasing one. "I'm not offended, but
of all people, you'd understand that appearances can be deceving, yeah?" The
stew is poked through. "We'll have to see how the land ends up lying. This is
a nasty knot, hon."
Corian's expression is mildly pleasant at your inquiry, though there's a hint of mirth in her gray eyes as she nods. Interlacing her fingers, she nods slowly, now-troubled gaze flicking briefly to the stew. "It... somehow, it does not feel right, though I only get bits and pieces of the overall situation from my work. If I did not have obligations here, I do believe I might go elsewhere--somewhere more pleasant. Cloister, perhaps." There's a pause, as she remembers that Cloister is where she got entangled in the department. "Or perhaps not. But it is moot; I will remain here."
"Don't like it here, Miz Treston?" Tarrant questions quietly. "I guess, if
one's wanting t'get -out- of an insane business, coming here's not the best."
The spoon is lowered, "Obligations?"
Corian says quietly, "I do like it here, for the most part, but I see the
potential for more unpleasantness, and I would prefer to avoid that. I have
seen, I believe, quite enough of that for some time yet." She offers a faint
smile, adding, "Unfortunately, this was the quickest job that presented
itself. And, yes--I am obliged to complete my time here, for the contract.
And I have obligations to my brother as well--those of family and friendship.
It may come to pass that he needs my assistance in this, though I hope that
point is not reached."
Tarrant ahhs in quiet understanding, offering you an amused smile as he gathers
the contents of his tray together. "A complicated mess for you, Miz Treston.
Still, there's folks here with obligations you hear, don't forget that,
y'hear?"
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Corian nods an affirmative, returning your smile in kind, though her own holds somewhat less amusement. "I will remember that, yes." After a moment, she starts to gather her own food. "Thank you, Tarrant."
Tarrant climbs to his feet, taking his tray with him. One foot is taken back a
step so that he can incline his upper body in a sweeping bow, shifting the
tray out of the way with a flourish. "You're welcome Miz Treston." He
straightens, bringing feet together with a boot click and a jangle of spurs.
With a grin that is entire acceptance of his own absurdity he nods, "Have a
pleasant day."
Corian stands gracefully and returns the bow with one of her own, hand resting
lightly over her heart. "I will endeavor to do so. I hope that your day is
pleasant as well." Her smile is somewhat more stable, with a hint of fond
amusement for the picture that you present.
Tarrant turns on a single boot heel, moving with a bit more haste than he
entered, disposing of his tray and heading out.
Tarrant heads towards the Central Atrium.