4/20/99

Corian works, by the way. She looks like she's been out and about somewhat already, and is now ensconced on the couch with her computer, plugging away at a translation of some sort.

Tarrant is still asleep, half sprawled in innocent abandon on the bed, a hand still reaching across the bed to where you had been. He's still overtired from the combination of recent injury and spending a day building, but he looks altogether pleased. He shifts however at last, moving to sit upright with a stretch.

Corian looks over at that, with a smile. "Good morning, cha'trez." She checks the wall-clock, then. "You just made it. Did you sleep well?"

Tarrant glances at his watch blinking, "Wonderfully," he replies, although he sounds rather sleepily bemused. "And obviously for an age and a half. Good grief but I slept in."

Corian gets up from the couch, silencing the computer's chime of protest, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. "Well, then, you obviously needed it. I am glad that you were able to sleep so long--I do hope you did not overdo it, with the building."

Tarrant reaches up to brush at his jacket absently, re-settling it. "I'm fine, it was just a lot of hammering and painting and all. But worth it. How's your morning been?"

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian says cheerfully, "It has been just fine. I had a brief meeting this morning, and a decision might be made about that teaching job soon. Of course, soon is also relative."

Tarrant grins at that, if still somewhat sleepily. "Soon would be good, it's not fair for them to leave you hanging on tenterhooks and all while they fiddle around. Although I can understand your current employers not wishing to cede any of your time, I'd be jealous if I were them too."

Corian absently brushes at your hair with her fingertips. She likes your hair, it's entertaining. "They have other translators," she says tranquilly. "They will be able to cope with my absence for a few afternoons each week, if it turns out that will be the case."

"Yeah, but none so lovely as you..." Tarrant replies, reaching up to rub at his eyes, although not without first a smile for the touch to his hair. It certainly can manage entertaining. It's long enough to often randomly stick up. "Or as nice."

Corian blushes a bit at that, murmuring a vague negative. "Well, I do try to be nice," she adds. "Despite my tendencies for evil."

"Hopefully the newer people can convince them to share. The kids need you too." Tarrant is still not entirely awake, perhaps his world view is still a bit simplistic, but then it can often be that way.

Corian chuckles very quietly. "I do not think it is quite so extreme as needing, but I think it would be good for all of us." She stops in the hair-fussing, fingers trailing lightly over your cheek for a moment. "Why don't you go back to sleep, cha'trez?"

Tarrant blinks for a moment at that, chuckling quietly, "I just got up, love. Isn't that a bit backwards? I slept for ages and all."

Corian's smile is a bit sheepish. "Maybe you just need time to wake up a bit more."

Tarrant nods to that, chuckling. "Hey, after as much sleep as that, it has to count as hibernating. Takes a while to un-hibernate. I could growl maybe, make the effect a little more authentic?"

Corian's eyes gleam with amusement. "As entertaining as that would be, I think it might alarm the neighbors. It would be rather disconcerting to have Security knocking on the door to confiscate the so-called wild animal. And whoever did so would likely tell my brothers, and I would not hear the end of that."

Tarrant snickers softly, stretching with a series of creaks, and looking more alert afterwards. Stretching is a wonderful thing. "I guess that whole meowing and pawing at your door thing is out as well?"

Corian shakes her head, with a brief laugh. "Again, that would be amusing, but it would likely disturb the neighbors." She shifts back as you stretch, providing a bit more room.

Tarrant swings his feet off the side of the bed, shifting closer to you as he un-stretches. "It's raining out, yes?" He nods, chuckling. "Probably, darn. And normally while distressing neighbors is desirable, not when the love of my life's brothers are in charge of Security."

Corian casts a brief, puzzled look at you. "It is raining, yes." She reaches for your hand, adding, a bit amused, "And, yes, they do somewhat put a damper on mischief."

Tarrant hands over the sought hand, squeezing yours gently. "I figured." He ducks his head slightly, looking amused. "I don't suppose that's such a bad thing, really. Some sort of limit of my trouble making propensity is probably good for society at large."

Corian smiles suddenly as she claims a hand. Now she can stuff it and mount it on her wall. "Though that would be far less entertaining," she muses, "I do suppose that you are correct."

Tarrant's hand would probably object to that most wholeheartedly. It really prefers to be right where it is, with the other hand. It's comfortable here, and warm. "Okay, admittedly not a very hard and fast limit. I'm afraid my evil is probably indelible."

Corian nods her agreement to that. "Oh, of course," she agrees. "As long as you do not inconvenience them too badly, that is all that I ask."

"That much I think I can manage." Tarrant replies in soft amusement, bringing up his other hand to trace absent patterns across the back of yours. "Even if they were not your relations, I would prefer to elude the eye of Security."

Corian offers a rather wide-eyed look at that. "Oh, you would?" she inquires, far too innocently. "Goodness, I had not even considered that." But then she laughs, giving up the innocent act. "I do appreciate that, cha'trez. Clara understands, and she thinks that perhaps Riley knows more than he is saying, but I would rather he not have to acknowledge that which would be... uncomfortable for him."

Tarrant takes the pattern tracing hand and seriously and calmly pokes you in the ribs, snickering. He nods, "I wouldn't want that. I am too fond of you to wish to upset your family."

Corian reaches to capture the rib-poking hand, with a laugh that fades after a moment. Yes, she's ticklish, very much so that such a gesture elicits a laugh. "I do appreciate that, Tarrant," she adds. "I do not believe that Riley will go out of his way to notice things, in this instance, but I am not quite sure."

Tarrant's brows lift at the result of the poking, ooooh...that's a neat effect. He does nod solemnly despite the devilish look in his eyes the poking has created. "And I wouldn't want him to get into it with the department over such things."

Corian pauses a beat as she catches that look in your eyes. Yes, she knows you well enough to fear. "Mmm," she says slowly. "Yes, that would certainly be bad." She doesn't move away from you, though she does pause to check her hold on your hands--like she'd be able to stop you that way. She's amused, though.

Tarrant sets about attempting another expiremental poke. "Although it might be amusing to witness, the unapposable force and the immovable object."

Oh, dear. That squawk certainly wasn't dignified, though it was a decided attempt to hold back her laughter this time, lest Corian encourage you. "I do not believe it would be worthwhile," she says, trying desperately to continue with the conversation.

"Probably not, but on a purely speculative end...Banzai!!" And no, Tarrant isn't attempting to summon small neatly trimmed trees, he's attempting a full force and full scale be-pouncing and be-tickling. He's that kind of scum.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

The poor neighbors. Fortunately, Corian's shriek is quickly muffled to quiet, sputtering bursts of laughter, so maybe they won't call Security. She manages, when she's able to breathe, "Unfair. No warning. You'd better be ticklish!"

Tarrant continues settling about his evil, relentlessly seeking out the most ticklish spots. He's snickering in decided amusement. "What in seven hells ever made you think I would play fair?"

Corian sputters, gasps, chokes, and makes various other kinds of distress, though she's laughing as well, so it's obvious that she's not in -too- much difficulty. "Naive," she manages, amidst odd noises that almost make her sound like a teakettle boiling over.

"Yup," Tarrant agrees, snickering himself, making note of the really -evil- spots and turning full attention onto them. He has a little sister. This is a well developed talent.

Corian is by now laughing so hard that she has literal tears in her eyes. "Please," she attempts, though the word is broken in the middle by another pause to laugh. "Please, cha'trez."

Tarrant does finally leave off, snickering quietly and settling back to sit cross-legged and look exceptionally innocent.

Corian sinks against the back of the bed, wiping her eyes and taking a moment to recover her breath. "I," she says finally, definitely amused, "Must write a letter of sympathy to your sister, for she undoubtedly had to suffer far wose than that."

Tarrant laughs quietly at that, looking a bit sheepish, "Not really," he admits, "Usually she'd bite, which I was hoping you wouldn't."

Corian sits up finally, with a quiet laugh. "That is rather unlikely, yes--though perhaps I should still write to her. Maybe she has some tactics I can try."

Tarrant slowly reaches out, as if intending to poke again. "Now see that would be bad, I much prefer tormenting when the subject doesn't torment back."

Corian skitters away from you, like a wound-up ferret. Gun-shy? Not at all. "Ohhhh," she says, decidedly amused. "And, of course, we must abide by your preferences. Where did you say your sister is living, again?"

Tarrant seems almost as entertained by the skittering as he was by the tickling, and clambers onto hands and knees to follow. He snickers, "I didn't, and I don't know that I -ought- to, considering. She'd be terribly evil."

Corian keeps up with the skittering, nearly falling off the bed in the process. "Well, then," she says, reaching to find the edge of the bed and prevent a fall, "I will just have to find the information on my own."

Tarrant continues to stalk you, grinning evilly, he's evil, that's why he grins evilly. He's also obviously having -way- too much fun. "Yup, cause I am not gonna aid and abet evil against myself."

Corian muffles a quiet laugh, at that. "Well, then, I will most certainly locate her address." Her own smile is decidedly innocent. "After all, she is your sister, and I would like to get to know her." See? She wouldn't do anything evil. She also keeps up her attempts to evade capture. "You never did say whether you are ticklish as well."

Tarrant continues to stalk you, far too amused by your attempts to elude capture. "Me? Ticklish? Of course not. Would I have gotten this far if I were ticklish?"

Corian tosses a pillow at you in distraction, then ducks off the edge of the bed, with a muffled laugh. "I may have to test that for myself, you know."

Tarrant takes the pillow full in the chest, tossing himself back as if thrown backwards from the force. He really would have done better on stage, he can almost make the pillow a convincing heavy object as he lies be-squeshed beneath it. Well, except for his snicker and reply, "Hey, to do that, you'd have to get in range. My arms are longer."

Corian apparently goes under the bed, as she emerges on the other side, only her head and arms appearing over the bed's edge. "Awww, but you would not tickle me again, would you, cha'trez?" She looks so pathetic, despite that gleam of mirth in her eyes. See? She shouldn't be tickled.

Tarrant tilts his head backwards to regard you upside-downly from his back sprawled position. "But, but, tickling's -fun-..."

Corian reaches in an attempt to get in a tickle of her own. "So should I not be allowed to tickle you as well, then? It is only fair, after all."

Goodness Tarrant moves quickly. He's away from those fingers in a hearbeat, acking in an amused fashion. "No, no, no, see I said tickling was good. Not being tickled."

Corian climbs onto the bed once more. The hunter becomes the hunted? She seems to enjoy making a second attempt at tickling you. "You know, you are correct. This -is- fun."

Tarrant attempts a dive to the side, creatively commando rolling and protecting his sides, snickering. "Ack, no, no tickle, evil." Ah, he's such a master of the language.

Corian doesn't quite dive after you, though she certainly follows, looking extremely amused. "Evil? I am not -evil-, cha'trez. I am trying to have fun."

Tarrant sort of runs out of bed, and is hence more or less cornered, so even a non-dive allows you to catch up. He looks for escape, snickering, "Evil! Evil!"

Corian tsks softly at that, taking advantage of the lack of bed to attempt more tickling, expression suggesting that she's a heartbeat away from her own laughter. "If this is evil, I suppose that I am."

And no surprise here, considering his intent escaping, Tarrant is -terribly- ticklish. Admittedly, the denim jacket is some protection, but not anywhere near enough, and he squirms and laughs, attempting to escape. He ends up switching out of Standard entirely and into his own language, "No, ack, evil! I love you, but that's vicious!"

Corian reaches past the denim jacket, in fact, depriving you of even that meager protection. "Vicious?" she inquires innocently, still tickling. "Should I stop, then? If you like, I will." See, she's nice. She doesn't even try to use her advantage to extort your sister's address.

Corian also responds in Milian.

Tarrant decides that if you can cheat, so can he. He twists in an attempt to evade fingers, shifting up to attempt to steal a kiss.

Oh, yeah, that definitely distracts Corian. Too bad she didn't think of that particular method, though she definitely would've been afraid to try it. As it is, she stops the tickling as she is kissed, maybe a bit surprised. But she doesn't slap you, either, which is good.

Obviously Tarrant clues into what he's doing, as when he pulls back from the kiss he looks rather shyly apologetic. Not being slapped is good, but randomly scaring the poor lady isn't so great either.

Corian reaches up to touch your cheek, surprise shifting to a rather tentative smile. "I... well. That was better than being tickled, I believe--and even than tickling."

Tarrant looks more than a little bit relieved, he hasn't offended you it seems, things are okay. He stifles a chuckle, "Improvising. Certainly not a method I used to fend off my sister."

Corian laughs quietly at that, gaze flicking briefly downwards. "Goodness, I certainly hope not, that would be a little disturbing. It is hardly a tactic I would have anticipated from my brothers, either."

Tarrant shifts enough to reach up to smooth back your hair with gentle fingers. "Seems efficent though," he murmurs with a grin.

Corian reaches up as well, but to put her arms around you, manner very tentative. No, this isn't a distraction for another tickle attempt--she's not quite that evil. "It is quite efficient, yes," she agrees softly. "But I still think that doesn't make it appropriate for siblings, even those who have no blood relation."

Tarrant returns the gesture with one arm around you, just as hesitant. The other is propping him up. He chuckles, "True enough, but we don't exactly have that problem."

Corian nods to that, with a decidedly shy smile. "We do not, you're correct. We're certainly not siblings, of any type--unless I have more family hiding somewhere," she adds, with a brief laugh. "Considering the rate at which I have been gaining family..."

Tarrant brings the arm around you up a bit, gently rubbing at the small of your back. He grins absently, "Somehow I doubt it, even as large as your family may turn out to be. Mine's a little insular."

Corian very nearly purrs, for a moment. A backrub! Kinda. "You're right, of course," she murmurs. "You're definitely right. Even my extensive family likely does not stretch so far." She shifts to nestle her head lightly against you, with a soft sigh of contentment.

Tarrant shifts his weight off that back hand, moving his center of gravity and bringing up the other hand around you, setting it to gently looking for knots and working them softly and deftly out. "Especially since my family tree is barely more than a sprout."

Corian does purr, now, almost, her murmur of contentment decidedly unclear. "If that is the case, then mine is a baobab," she murmurs, the subtle tension in her body slowly easing. "Mm. You know, cha'trez, if you ever decided to leave the Department, you could certainly gain employment as a masseur."

Tarrant chuckles quietly, methodically working through taut muscles, attempting to release them. The sound is very quiet, and were you not so close, you might not've heard it. "I don't know about that. I don't know if I've the temperment for it. Just a little bit of experience at trying to get knots out."

Corian murmurs softly, tone decidedly content, "Knots in muscles, knots in problems, knots everywhere, yes. And I cannot help but prefer you as you are. This way, I get to keep you for myself."

Tarrant's fingers continue working their way up to your shoulder blades, still very careful indeed. "There is no call for you to have to share. I am entirely yours. Heart, body, and soul if I've got one."

Corian lifts her head at that, with a warm smile. "Cha'trez, I love you," she says quietly. And then, miracle of miracles, she tries to kiss -you-. Shock is permitted. And it's rather clumsy, of course, as this is something she's literally never done, but, hey, it's a start.

Tarrant attempts to return the kiss, not particularly skilled himself, but being so deeply in love has to count in the A for effort category. A moment after the kiss ends, he replies softly. "And I love you, more every moment and less than the next."

Corian's smile is brief, but dazzlingly bright. She's trying not to be too nauseating in her happiness, even when she's alone with you. She basks in happiness for a moment or seven, just content with the world, then apparently registers the time. "Goodness, it's gotten late, and I've not even let you out of bed." Of course, she doesn't move away just yet. She's happy where she is.

"And you see me -objecting- to this?" Tarrant questions, delight sparkling in his eyes. "Oh no, alas, alack, I am lazing about in the bed of the woman I love after having slept in all morning. Oh, the -horror-, what ever shall I do?"

Corian laughs softly at the teasing, and runs a few delicate fingers over a ticklespot, just enough that their presence registers, but not enough to cause actual ticklishness. After all, you're bigger than she is, she's obviously not in the best of position for tickling. "I -meant-," she says, with a smile, "That I thought you might be hungry. Did you even have dinner last night?"

Tarrant shivers lightly at the tickle-spot be-tormenting, although he by no means seems displeased. He shakes his head with a rueful chuckle, "No, I got a bit tied up in painting. I was having too much fun, and Gardner'd left by then."

Corian shakes her head, with a sigh of fond exasperation. "Cha'trez, you need to -eat-. If you do not take care of yourself..." Shaking her head once more, she starts to extract herself from your embrace. "Would you rather eat here, or find something somewhere else?"

Tarrant finally lets his fingers drop down from the knots on your shoulders, shaking his head. "Normally I am good about such things. It's been a bit chaotic lately." He shakes his head, "I've no real preference, although if we intend to leave the building, I'd love to snag my boots before we do so."

Corian gets to her feet, absently shaking out her skirt. "Let us try the Quarter, then, perhaps? My own food supplies are running somewhat low."

Tarrant climbs from the bed to his feet, nodding. Stretching again lightly he notes, "It's not raining anymore, that sounds like a lovely idea."

Corian looks almost disappointed at that. Absently tweaking her hair into place, she inquires, "How can you tell?" X-ray vision, yeah, that's it. She's dating Superman.

Nothing so suave sadly. Tarrant taps absently at his knee as he runs a hand through his hair, setting it to rights. "What's left of my knee gives me regular dissertations on the weather."

Corian winces a bit, casting a look of sympathy towards you and your poor knee. "Is there nothing Clara can do to help, with that?"

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant shrugs lightly, moving to tug the blankets on the bed into rights. "Not that I know of, certainly the folks that did the repair job seemed to think that was in the cards. Admittedly, that was a while back. Still, I'm pretty used to it."

Corian moves around the bed to help with the bedmaking. She inquires, "Did you ever think of asking her about it? I am certain she would be glad to help, if she can."

Tarrant moves to smooth the restored blankets with a swipe of his hand. "I honestly hadn't thought to ask, no. It's been so long, it's not something I think about actively anymore."

Corian heads back around the bed to rummage for her shoes. "Well," she suggests, "If it has been that long, perhaps Clara would be able to do something to assist you." Of course, that would also mean getting rid of the limp, and a Booth-ism, but, hey, we can go sit in a booth again.

Tarrant shrugs absently, half-grinning. "Maybe, it really isn't a big deal though." He pads to stand near the door, still barefoot of course as his own shoes are downstairs.

Corian, after tucking on her own shoes, moves to follow. "As you wish," she says amiably enough. "You are used to it, as you say. But I cannot help but prefer to have you without injury."

Tarrant moves to open the door for you, "I just don't wish to harass the poor woman than I already have. Miz Clara already dubs me breakable, when I hardly consider myself such."

Corian murmurs a quiet thankyou for the door-opening. "I do not believe she would consider it harassment," she says, over one shoulder. "I could ask her about it, if you like?"

You leave the room, pulling the door shut behind you.

Fourth Floor Elevator Lounge

Eloquently appointed, and impeccably arranged, this elevator lounge serves as a waiting area for the diplomatic level as well as for the lifts. Unlike the lower floors, the marble here is a blinding white, veined lightly with silver gray. Heavy rugs are strategically arranged and each depicts the symbol of one of the Alliance sectors of space. The walls are paneled in a lighter colored wood than the levels below, and sport brass fixtures. Tasteful potted plants lurk in the corners. A receptionists desk and security station are set up for those seeking information, but no traffic is impeded. A carefully engraved listing is available of all the diplomats maintaining offices on this floor.

<< To see a listing of offices maintained here, type +view listing >>

Obvious exits:

Stairs Elevator

You leave Room Y8.

Tarrant leaves Room Y8.

Tarrant has arrived.

Tarrant follows along afterwards, "Now wouldn't that be putting -both- of you out?"

You walk towards the Spiraling Stairway.

Spiraling Stairway

This gorgeous staircase is constructed of even treads of silvery-gray marble veined in obsidian black. It wends its way around the elevator collumn, in a seemingly endless looping helix of delicate construction. Cunningly designed to use the elevator assembly as the central support, this stairway seems to stand alone, precariously balanced and curving. It is railed in marble as well, a low wall leading to a sheet of glass to keep this area sound proofed against the bustle of the Atrium below. At each level a marble arch leads out of the stairway tube and onto the floor. Each arch is decorated with almost whimsical carvings, the sides formed by tree trunks, and the gentle curve of each by leafy branches. Instead of a keystone, each has a carved number, indicating which floor one is on.

Contents:

Clara

Obvious exits:

First Floor <1> Second Floor <2> Third Floor <3> Fourth Floor <4>

You walk here from the Fourth Floor Elevator Lounge.

Tarrant walks here from the Fourth Floor Elevator Lounge.

Tarrant has arrived.

Clara nods affably in passing on her way up the stairs. "Afternoon, folks."

Corian shakes her head to Tarrant, who is following her, apparently. "Of course not, cha'trez. It would--" She pauses a beat, with a rather surprised smile. "Clara, hello."

Tarrant is indeed following along, although rather quietly, as he's barefoot. He's done that a lot lately. Spotting Clara as well he doffs his non-existant hat with an amused smile, "Afternoon Miz Clara."

Clara continues on up a few stairs to get past, inclining her head with a grin. "You two have a good afternoon. If you'll excuse me? Home calleth," she explains rather cheerfully.

Clara walks towards the Third Floor Elevator Lounge.

Clara has left.

Corian shakes her head, with a short laugh. "That was rather entertaining timing," she murmurs, continuing down the stairs.

You walk towards the Central Atrium.

Central Atrium

Filled with greenery and assorted plants from a hundred different Alliance worlds, this massive atrium is a chaotic and interesting place. The room itself is round, with evenly-spaced archways leading to the other areas. Each archway is color-coded, with a label telling where it leads in standard and the languages of each of the major races. For those who pause to look upwards, the escheresque upper levels of the complex may be seen, as the atrium reaches through the entire complex, with a plasglass skylight at the top through which Linnae's sunlight may filter. Paths wend their way through the carefully tended gardens, and small placards label the groups of vegetation and their homeworld. Some are labeled with the universal symbol for danger, be careful, they bite. Groups of benches are located here and there for the comfort of passing delegates and those attempting to lobby them.

The elevator is at floor number 3 (the doors are closed) and appears to contain one person.

Obvious exits:

Stairs Elevator Diplomatic Hall Arch Out Rec Hall Dining Meeting Hall Spaceport

You walk here from the Spiraling Stairway.

Tarrant walks here from the Spiraling Stairway.

Tarrant has arrived.

Tarrant is slow to follow, as he stopped off to get boots, really.

You head towards the Massive Open Air Pavilion.

Massive Open Air Pavilion

The sound of footsteps ring from these wide terra-cotta paving stones at all hours-- this pavilion is central to the life of a great many of those who live in Copper Hill Steading. It is protected from the worst of the elements by a massive onion dome over head. The dome is fashioned of lacquered wood, and is painted in bright swirling stripes of blue and green. There are no walls, as massive stone columns, painted in equally festive shades support the dome

Enterprising sales persons and street musicians are set up in scattered clumps beneath the pavilion's shelter. The sounds of their calls, and their myriad mix of musical styles, echoing against the lacquered wood high overhead create a melodious cacophony-- the echoes of which can be heard for miles.

Dominating the Pavilion's east end is the massive Alliance Complex, home to a myriad of diplomats and tradespeople from hundreds of worlds. It's a massive construction of mirror-bright black marble and sun-shielded plas-glas. Irregular in shape, it attests to the organic construction of both the building and the Alliance itself.

Obvious exits:

Aerie Hotel Steading Gate Bonded GuildHall Java Quarter Complex Gate

You arrive from the Central Atrium.

Tarrant arrives from the Central Atrium.

Tarrant has arrived.

Corian inquires, after a brief, considering look at the sky, "Where would you like to go?"

Tarrant ponders a moment, gesturing towards the quarter. "One of the cafe type locations?"

Corian nods agreeably, heading in that direction. "That suits."

You head towards the Java Quarter.

Java Quarter

In the very heart of the Java Quarter stands a massive granite fountain. Change glints in the basin, and a whimsically carved dragon basks amongst the pouring flows of water. A small faded plaque indicates it's a memorial of some kind. Around the fountain square lurk squat little buildings, each painted in a riot of colors and bedecked with curling wrought iron trim. Many years ago these were fine houses for people from outlying steadings coming to visit the capitol. Now they have been re-made into artist's studios, odd little stores, java shops, and bars.

The streets in this quarter are all of cobblestone, and earthenware pots are scattered at every corner. In these pots are planted quirky little topiary bushes. The streetlights are made to mimic old gas lantern-lights, and the street signs are of battered driftwood. A great deal of care has been taken to keep the flavor and charm of this district without sacrificing modern amenities. Small darkened 'alleys' lead off the narrow streets and between the cramped buildings. Dingy and with a flavor of great age to them, they're probably not the best place for tourists to go.

Obvious exits:

Shop Hill Zimmies Bar and Grill Pavilion

You arrive from the Massive Open Air Pavilion.

Tarrant arrives from the Massive Open Air Pavilion.

Tarrant has arrived.

Tarrant follows along, making his way through the various crowdage with a generally amused air.

Corian pauses before one of the cafes, with a gesture towards it. "How about there? The cuisine is varied enough that we can both eat there, without you having to eat vegetarian yet again."

Tarrant nods at the suggestion, grinning. "Hey, vegetablarian's not so terrible, I'm hardly a confirmed carnivore. Although I have to admit I could never go vegetable only. Unless somebody was willing to declare hamburgers vegetables."

Corian chuckles as she heads towards a table that allows a bit of shade, as she's never that big a fan of excessive sunshine. "There are so-called burgers, made of vegetable products, though I must say that they do not taste the same. They do have hamburgers here, though, I believe," she adds, taking up one of the laminated paper menus.

Tarrant slides into a chair, regarding the passing people in the square a moment before snagging a menu of his own. "They don't, I'd have to agree. And that's cheating anyhow."

Corian inquires, with a short laugh, "That is cheating? Why is that?"

Tarrant regards the menu a moment, settling it aside and grinning. "It just has to be. Normal veggies taste better than fake meat. So it's losing either way."

Corian nods to that, with a quick smile of understanding. "That is certainly true, yes." The cheerful young waiter puts in an appearance at that point, and Corian puts in an order for a pasta dish and some tomato juice, very festive.

Tarrant adds his own order, predictably for a burger with fries and sweet tea. Settling into his chair Tarrant scans the folks in the square casually, half-grinning. "This is such a wild world."

Corian nods to that, with a quick smile. "They all are, though, for the most part, in some form or another."

Tarrant nods absently, still watching passerby, "But here, well, the place is normal enough. But there's such a mix of people."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian nods to that, gaze resting briefly on a woman with vibrantly orange hair. "Lovely color," she murmurs. Glancing back to you, she adds, "Yes, there is certainly variety. It isn't often boring, here."

Tarrant glances in the direction of said woman, "I think I used to have a shirt that color. For being spotted." He nods, "You never know who all's going to wander through or show up. The whole Alliance in one place."

Corian doesn't nod this time, her posing is getting repetative. Instead, she considers you for a moment, with a smile. "I suppose that is a good thing, yes. Much of my traveling involved worlds that were not yet in the Alliance, or recently joined, so I suppose I have less of a view of the overall organization than you do."

"I hesitate to call it organized," Tarrant murmurs in amusement, shaking his head. "It's just wild to see a little bit of this place or that, all in once place. Like a scrapbook."

Corian peers at you for a long moment, then suggests, "They probably would not appreciate being glued to anything. Just in case you were considering that option, I thought I should point out that fact."

Tarrant stifles a laugh, grinning at you, "As -tempting- as that is, now that you've mentioned it. Or taking poles and staking them out by their clothes in the park like a giant butterfly exhibit..." Tarrant muses, "Modern art..."

Corian tsks very quietly at that. "I really shouldn't encourage you," she says, trying to sound severe but ending up amused. "Ah... the food, perhaps that will prove to be a suitable distraction."

Tarrant grins, all innocence as the waiter brings the foodage. "Awww, am I so terrible as all that? You know I'd never actually -do- such a thing. Where would I find the poles?"

Corian murmurs a thankyou to the waiter. "If you wanted them," she retorts, not buying that innocence in the slightest, "Then you would find them. If necessary, I daresay you could make them. After all, you managed the treehouse."

Tarrant nods his thanks to the waiter, snagging a fry. "Oooh, the hardware store where we got the latticework. I think I saw poles -there-..."

Corian says lightly, taking up her fork and starting on her pasta, "I do believe that this is the sort of thing of which my brother would have to take notice. He would likely find it quite amusing, mind, but he would still have to deal with the complaints."

Though the Zaeltans would make really -cool- modern art. Their tails could be part of it, too.

Tarrant sighs in mock-dismay, snickering as he goes to take up his burger. "Aww well, it was a lovely thought however. All the bright colors arrayed across the green grass in the sun."

Corian nods to that. She manages to speak in an utterly serious manner. "It would be truly lovely. Perhaps if you -asked- the diplomats, they would be willing to do this, in the name of art."

Tarrant sighs as if in great sadness, "Somehow I doubt they'd let me. Artists are, after all, never appreciated in their own time." He settles to munching on his dinner a moment.

Corian nods to that, munching thoughtfully on her meal for a few moments. "There is always that chance that you would be the exception, however. After all, your treehouse is likely to be appreciated."

Tarrant grins at that in between munching on his burger. "I hope so, but kids are different. Besides, I'd have to get another permit if I wanted to stake diplomats to the ground."

Corian's fork pauses for a moment, befor she starts eating once more. "How in the world would you get a permit for staking diplomats--who would likely not do this voluntarily--to the ground? And why would you let the lack of one stop you?"

Tarrant regards you in mock innocence, "Engage in a public work without a -permit-? Goodness Corian, what kind of hoodlum do you think I am?"

Corian shakes her head very slowly, manner one of fond amusement. "There are not words in Standard to describe what kind of hoodlum I think you are."

Tarrant just sighs, attempting to look terribly put upon and hurt, and well, failing. "I can't believe you'd think I'd try such a thing... Goodness..."

Corian says patiently, "Tarrant, I know you. Of course you would try such a thing, if you thought you would be able to get away with it."

Tarrant snickers softly, nodding. "Yeah, but I'd never get away with -that-... A little too epic of scale."

Corian considers that for a moment or two. "I suppose so," she says, with a mock-sigh of disappointment. "We can always remember it, for sometime in the future."

Tarrant nods to that, settling down the remains of his burger, and picking through his fries. "You never know when such things might be useful, certainly."

Corian polishes off her pasta and turns to the juice. "It is creative, after all," she says, with an innocent smile. "Creativity should be encouraged."

Tarrant hmphs softly, looking amused. "Encouraged, yeah, that's it." He grins, glancing up towards the hill. "Maybe I'll hold off on being too creative anywhere your relatives are in charge of Security."

Corian nods agreeably enough to that. "To the best of my knowledge, that is only here, so you are not -too- limited."

Tarrant nods to that, chuckling. He sips from his tea. "Here I can stick with treehouses. It's simpler."

Corian looks rather cheerful at that particular prospect. "And treehouses are less likely to annoy diplomats. Are you going to make another one, then? The one that you have finished is lovely."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant considers that a moment, snagging another fry. "I guess it depends on how this one goes. I'd love to build one near the ocean, though I don't see a chance at that. But the nicest place I ever lived was a house built into a tree by the ocean."

Corian nods to that, with a thoughtful smile. "You could always look for such a place, if you like. This planet has enough variety of terrain that you could perhaps find a place that would suit."

Tarrant nods absently, looking rather thoughtful. He shakes his head though, "I doubt I'd have an oportunity to do that, though."

Corian nods rather pensively. "It is another thing to remember, for further consideration."

Tarrant nods, settling back away from his food. "Yeah, hey, one of these days. There'll be time for everything one of these days. I have faith."

Corian nods at that, putting aside her glass. "Eventually, yes," she agrees, with a smile. "As quickly as you completed this first treehouse, it would not take you very long, once you found a site."

Tarrant grins at that, shaking his head. "Nah, it'd take longer. This was a treehouse for the kids. If I get a chance to build one someplace like that... Well, it'll be a bit more involved."

Corian smiles thoughtfully at that, shaking her head as the chipper waiter asks if she'd like anything else. "To make it like the one in which you lived?"

Tarrant offers his credit chit to the waiter, shaking his head as well. He nods to you, "Well, sort of at least. Adult scale if nothing else. I couldn't build one like the other. It was an actual house, running water, power, all that."

Corian looks for a moment like she's going to protest the giving over of credit chits, but then, with a shake of her head, subsides, instead saying, "Thank you, cha'trez. And adult scale would be handy, certainly."

Tarrant just waves off the thanks, "As many times as you've fed me of late? I'm still well on the debt side." He nods thoughtfully, "Large enough to have real space, although the nice little cozy house on the one I did's kinda fun."

Corian says, looking rather sheepish, "That is why I did not protest that you are paying. And I -like- the one that you did. I mentioned it to Ximena this morning, and she was thrilled."

Tarrant nods to that last, looking rather pleased. "I just hope the kids like it. I could use the credit with them."

In the sky, The clouds move away, leaving the sky crystal clear. A warm wind comes in from the north.

Corian peers into the sky for a moment. "I am sure that the children will be thrilled--Ximena was certain, as well. She will be bringing them to the park sometime in the next few days, she is uncertain when."

Tarrant nods to that, sighing in a softly contented fashion as the warm air swooshes through. "Well, if they can think of any improvements, if she'll pass them along? I can see about fixing things up."

Corian's head inclines briefly. "Of course, of course. I would be glad to do so. I doubt the younger ones will have anything to suggest, but perhaps the older children might."

Tarrant is in no hurry to get moving sadly, he likes the nice weather. He nods, "I just figure it's best to check, considering I must admit, I'm no longer a kid."

Corian manages not to lookk stunned at that, instead nodding, eyes holding a hint of amusement. "I will have to tell my cousin that. I am uncertain, but he may still believe that you are ten."

Tarrant gestures with a hand, chuckling. "Maybe in the head, but size-wise, I'm a bit bigger than ten."

Corian holds her hands so that her fingers are almost touching. "Just a little bigger than tyat, yes, of course. The younglings will be able to let you know what they can reach, that sort of thing."

Tarrant snickers at that, leaning on one elbow on the table. "I'm glad to be a bit bigger. There's some kind of childishness one needs to be an adult for."

Corian murmurs something about tickling, a certain glint of amusement in her eyes. "That is too true, yes." She takes a moment to glance at her watch, then shakes her head. "I should likely start back, I am afraid."

Tarrant pauses a moment, but climbs to his feet, offering you a hand up. "May I escort you back to the building?"

Corian gets to her feet with a quick smile. "If you like, you may, but if you'd rather stay here and enjoy the weather, of course, I understand. I am only going back to work, after all."

Tarrant grins to that, "I can always come back after escorting you there. Having you around is better than pleasant weather."

Corian's smile warms, and she starts to pick her way out of the cafe-area. "Well, then, I would be glad to have you escort me. Thank you."

Tarrant offers an arm as he moves to pace you.

Corian takes your arm with a cheerful smile, heading back towards the Complex.


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