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Corian comms. A festive beginning. She looks a bit tired, but decidedly chipper. "Good morning, Hona. I hope it is not too early, there, I was not able to think mathematically enough to do the conversion."
Honalee is seated in an oversized armchair, dressed in a comfortable silver-gray dress. She chuckles quietly, "It's a bit early, but goodness knows, it's always good to hear from you dear. You still look sleep-shy."
Corian shakes her head, with a quick smile. "That is only the effects of
translating from Mandavi to Standard to Jansite. A bit of a nap, and I will
be fine. How are you doing? That color is lovely on you." Of course, gray
being her favorite color and all...
Honalee brushes lightly at her dress, chuckling, "I'm glad you like it dear. The dress is also exceptionally comfortable." She nods, "Make sure you get that nap then, dear, although you look better than last you did."
Corian nods amiably, then... oh, dear. She's smiling, and it's one of -those- smiles. "Thank you. I feel... ever so much better than I did then." She sighs. She looks nauseatingly happy. You're her great-grandmother, and it's over a comm. She's not going to pretend to be dignified.
Honalee lifts one delicate brow, regarding you in smug amusement. "Goodness child, you look..." There's an amused pause, "Chipper."
Corian manages not to blush too much, but just beams. "Oh, go ahead and gloat," she says, with a short laugh. "You were right, of course. How could I have thought anything else? Hona, he is... he is -wonderful-. He makes me happy."
Honalee can't help but laugh at that, very obviously indeed, gloating. "Well if he makes you happy dear, that's all that matters. Pardon me however if I do say I told you so." She shakes her head, "Who is he? Your young man?"
Corian nods to that, smile taking on a hint of wonder. "My young man, yes. He
said that he was mine." There's another of those lovesick sighs. "He is
wonderful. I really cannot describe it. When I am with him... sometimes I
wonder that I can be that happy."
Honalee simply smiles knowingly, "Trust me, you can. Love's like that, (And not
lick that as I kept typing) now you see why I wanted you to find it?" She
settles back. "As long as you are happy." There's a pause, "So, is he good in
bed?" Yes, this is after all, Honalee.
Corian starts to answer an affirmative to your first question, but then she's
far too busy choking at the second, and turning quite a vibrant shade of red.
"Hona! How in the world would I know -that-?"
Honalee sighs in exasperation, "Well in the usual way of course! Or did your
mother not explain -that-?" She sighs, "Okay, when a man and a woman love
each other..."
Corian cuts off your words with a bit of sputtering. "Hona! There is no need
for you to explain, I know all about that--well, not all about that, but the
theory, at least."
"Then the woman gooses the..." Honalee trails off, rather devious of
expression. "Then why'd you ask, child? How else are you to know? Trip him
and beat him to the bed, that's how." She's having -way- too much fun.
"Theory is nothing on experience darling."
Corian is really turning the most disturbing shades of red. "But... well... I
thought... it is rather soon for that, is it not? I am in no hurry to gain
experience. There is plenty of time for that."
Honalee sighs in mildy amused exasperation, "Well of course there's time.
Goodness, if he's a good young man he'll be more than willing to wait. But
where's the fun in that? Sex is wonderful, child."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Corian shakes her head, face still flamingly red. "I thought you were supposed to tell me to wait. This really does seem rather backwards, Hona."
Honalee winks, laughing softly, "If you were sixteen? Of course I would be. In your thirties?" She shakes her head, "Seriously child, do what makes you comfortable. I simply am required to make these comments."
Corian looks just a bit relieved by your last comment. "All this is very new to
me," she says, with a smile. "I cannot say that I -mind-, but... well, it
does take some getting used to."
Honalee tucks up her legs, "Let's see, well you don't know if he's a good lay
obviously, is there any other gossip? C'mon child, I miss out on everything
being this far away."
Corian offers, after a put-upon sigh for the comment on her lack of knowledge, "Riley has a cold? He did the other day, at least, perhaps he has gotten better by now. Oh... and you were almost the great-great-grandmother of a messiah." She looks decidedly amused by that. See, it's funny, now.
"Greg, the child's name is Greg. And that would explain why he's not answering
the comm." Honalee sighs quietly, chuckling. "Not the gossip I meant, but
that will do." There's a pause, "The messiah?"
Corian nods innocently enough. "They thought I was going to have a baby," she
explains. "You know about my lack of experience. I was... rather floored by
the religious implications. I mean, where does one send a messiah for primary
school?"
Honalee is stunned a moment and then breaks out into quiet laughter, "Home
school. You depend on home school."
Corian nods to that, eyes gleaming with mirth. "I should have commed you to
ask. I should have known that you would have the answer. But, obviously, that
is not the case, so I do not have to worry about seeing to the education of a
messiah. Thank goodness!"
Honalee does a mock expression of extreme relief, "Thank goodness, I mean imagine the poor child ever having to order a pizza? 'Hello? I'm the Messiah, can I get a large pepero...Why do they always hang up?'" She shakes her head, "Why did they think you were pregnant? Tongue kissing with your young man? Despite some backwards opinions, you can't get pregnant -that- way."
Corian only thought she was safe. Her cheeks flame once more, and she shakes her head. "Hona, of -course- not. I had neglected my implant. I do not remember the details--Clara could explain it, I am certain."
"Of course not? Don't tell me you've not even done -that-?" Honalee once again mimics exasperation, "Goodness child, it's not like that's -tricky- certainly. Is there something wrong with him? Is he a drummer?"
Corian shakes her head in answer to your questions, decidedly embarrassed. "Did you already ask me if he is a drummer? I seem to recall that. -Clara- is the drummer, not Tarrant. And we haven't done that, no."
"Tarrant, Tarrant..." Honalee repeats the name a couple of times, considering
it. "He -sounds- like a drummer. Maybe he plays the glochenspiel? If he isn't
a drummer, what is he?"
Oh, dear. Now comes the difficult question. After a moment of thought, Corian
replies, "He works with the Interior Department." She just has to hope that
you don't know too much about that.
"So does he kill people or just tape their conversations?" Um, Honalee
obviously does know. She sounds cheerful enough however. "At least he's not a
drummer."
Corian blanches, going from crimson to colorless in two seconds. "He is not a
drummer," she agrees, with a wan smile.
Honalee is a talented maker of color changes, "Child," she soothes, "I put up
with the fact that Greg kills people for a living, and countless other people
in the family. I served on Alliance ships. It happens. I don't like it, I
have to put those people back together, but that doesn't mean I love people
any the less."
Corian exhales a slow breath, looking decidedly relieved. You're good at that,
too. "He is a good person, Hona," she says slowly. "No matter what he does,
he is good, and I love him."
"Good is often in the why, rather than the how." Honalee says quietly, "Okay, so let me see, you're in love with this non-drummer, but have not yet entertained him in your bed, hrrrm, what else embarrassing can I ask..."
Corian's tone is an entertaining combination of amused and plaintive. "Perhaps
next time I should just let you talk with -him-. He is far less easily
embarrassed."
"This sounds like a good idea to me," Honalee questions, "I can quiz him more effectively in person. And suggest ways to get you into bed." Want to watch Tarrant turn Coke can red and hide under the bed? That would do it.
Corian bites back a laugh at that. "Mmm. You know, that just might do it--it
also might scare him away, though, and I would prefer that not happen. He
would like to meet you, though, I believe--at which point I just might make
introductions, and then flee."
"I would not wish to scare him away," Honalee assures quietly. "You love him. Although if he hurts you, well, well, I'll tell Greg."
Corian shakes her head to that. "He would not do that, Hona," she reassures, smile warming her face. "I really believe he would not."
Honalee smiles, "Not if he has a lick of sense and has so much as a hint of the
wonderful young lady he has."
Corian looks just a bit embarrassed at that, though this time it's a rather
pleased embarrassed. She doesn't even turn funny colors, instead murmuring a
thankyou before she observes, "It is getting late. Perhaps I should turn that
nap into going to bed early."
Honalee nods to that, "Probably a good idea dear. Curl up with your young man
and get some sleep."
Corian, for a miracle, doesn't object to that. "That sounds wonderful. Have a pleasant day, Hona. And please say hello to the folks for me."
"I will dear. Keep an eye out for Gre for me and tell him to answer the danged
comm." Honalee grins wryly. "Good night."
Corian laughs very quietly at that. "I will certainly do so." And with that,
and a nauseatingly happy smile, she ends the comm.
You say "Cha'trez? Are you still awake?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Hrrm, whuh? Heya, yeah, I'm awake
love. What's up?" in Tarrant's voice.
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
You say "I..." Well, no, 'want to sleep with me?' really wouldn't be the best way to phrase that. "I was considering sleep sometime soon. I thought... that is, I wondered... perhaps you would like to join me?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Hey, that sounds like a lovely idea. If you're not in a super speedy hurry? I'm at the park, it'll take me just a couple of minutes to get back there." in Tarrant's voice.
You say "Certainly, take your time. I will be waiting." into the communit.
Someone's knocking on the door. Maybe it's Tarrant. (If you like, you can
'reply <words>'.)
Corian calls, "Come in!"
Tarrant enters from the Elevator Lounge.
Tarrant has arrived.
Corian is curled up on the couch, a bit drowsy but still quite alert. "Hello, cha'trez," she murmurs, with a drowsy smile. "How was your evening?"
Tarrant pads in, grinning absently and looking perhaps a little on the half awake side. "Evening love. It was interesting I guess. Most of it I spent just shmozzing in the treehouse, enjoying the evening. A little bit of background work for a contract, that kind of thing."
Corian pats the spot on the couch next to her, a wordless invitation. "I am glad that you enjoyed your evening," she replies. "I enjoyed mine as well, for the most part, though Hona seemed to delight in turning me red."
Tarrant goes to sink onto the indicated spot, smiling easily. "That sounds like
an adventure and a half. You ought to make her turn red in return you know.
Turnabout and all..."
Corian shakes her head at that, with a quick smile and a short laugh. "I do not know that Hona is capable of blushing. But, yes, it really was an adventure. She was smug, as I knew she would be, but glad that you make me so happy."
Tarrant shifts an arm, still somewhat hesitant, reaching to rest it around you. "Love, I would do anything to make you happy. You have but to name it."
Corian smiles at the gesture, resting her head against your shoulder. "You are
here," she replies, turning her head to smile warmly at you. "That is all I
need. You are all I need."
Tarrant looks rather sheepish at that, but settles the arm a little more firmly
around you. "If that's it, I can manage it with no difficulty at all.
Certianly there is nowhere I would rather be, than with you here this close.
Even after I realized I loved you, and wanted nothing more than I wanted to
be loved by you in return, I did not think so far ahead as this. It's very
comfortable."
Corian inclines her head, murmuring a vaguely sleepy agreement to that. You're
here, you're comfortable, she's starting to relax. "When did you know?" she
inquires, with drowsy curiosity.
"Part of me knew a long time ago. Long before they sent everybody every whicha'
way." With his opposite hand Tarrant taps his chest over his heart. "But when
did the rest of me catch up? The night I ran into you first here and I
thought the world had come to a screeching halt. I had not really understood
why everything had felt wrong. But then you showed back up in my life, and
everything clicked right into place with a sound so loud I was amazed nobody
else heard it."
Corian slips an arm lightly around you, head still resting against you, though
she looks up again, with a sleepily pleased smile. "That is a beautiful
story," she murmurs. "I am somehow glad that we did not get together before
the incident back at the base, though. I do not know that it would have
worked quite so well, then."
"That night..." Tarrant trails off, not going after the thought any further, but half hugging you close with that arm he has around you. "It is good that things have turned out. Amazingly wonderful, beyond any hope I even knew to have." There's a quiet pause, "Sleep, it might be good, yes?"
Corian clings to you for just a moment, apparently not too keen on going after
that thought of yours, either. "Sleep is an excellent idea," she murmurs,
getting to her feet. "Hona suggested it." Though why -that- should make her
turn pretty colors...
Tarrant climbs to his feet after you, hesitantly offering something of a hug,
an honest to goodness up front hug type hug. "Well hey, we should listen to
our elders, right?"
Corian does in fact return the hug, though part of that could be to hide that
blush. "Mm." She coughs once. "Well... sometimes we should, yes. Hona offered
some very... frank suggestions."
Tarrant returns the hug with care, a be-jacketed source of warmth smelling
faintly of tree. Now if that isn't twisted... "Um, I think I won't ask. Red
isn't my color," he murmurs with a chuckle.
Corian is still somewhat red, herself, as she turns to go past the screen to
the bed. She keeps hold of one of your hands as she does so, adding rather
sheepishly, "I... suggested that -you- talk with her next time. She liked
that idea a bit too much, I am afraid. But she did promise not to frighten
you away, so she wouldn't be -too- horrible."
Tarrant grins in decided amusement as he follows along more than amiably. He's
going to get to sleep with you -again-. He's in heaven. "I think I can
survive. I'll just make sure to have a blanket to hide under. That ought to
make a great impression."
Corian dissolves into quiet laughter as she slips off her shoes and climbs
under the covers. "She would likely find it entertaining. She's just so
thrilled that you are not a drummer... though why -that- matters, I really
have no idea. Clara is a drummer, after all."
Tarrant walks to the other side of the bed, tugging off boots, and, ominous music here, his jacket. A couple of small weaponry objects are also removed and set with the small pile as he clambers under the covers and into the bed. "I could learn to play the drums? Scandalize her further?"
Corian shakes her head at that, with another quiet laugh. Miracle of miracles,
she edges a bit away from her usual spot on the bed, closer to you. "That is
all right, cha'trez. You will do quite nicely as you are. And I am horrible,
I would rather not share you with anyone who might teach you to play the
drums."
Tarrant edges in just a bit closer as well, stifling a decided yawn. "As long
as you're happy, nothing else matters." His eyes close and he sounds rather
bemused, "I'm not shareable, nope, all yours."
Corian curls up about as close as she can get to you without actually touching
you. She's not -that- relaxed, after all, especially after the remidner of
Honalee's suggestions. "Mine, all, mine," she murmurs, sounding really quite
thrilled. "Not going to share you with anyone. Very happy. Sleep well,
cha'trez. I love you."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Tarrant sighs softly in a decidedly contented fashion at your closeness. The
sheer closeness is enough to relax him still further. "May dreaming find you
gently," he murmurs, "I love you."
Corian murmurs an affirmative, though, as she's just barely awake as it is,
it's really tough to tell just what she's affirming. And then she drifts the
rest of the way into sleep.
Tarrant is awake a while longer, simply enjoying the nearness of you, just
inches away. At last he drifts to sleep. There's just one problem. Once he
drifts off he can't think, and curls up close around you in his sleep, a
protective arm over you.
Corian, at least while she's asleep, doesn't seem to mind this at all, and, in fact, uncurls enough to snuggle closer to you. Quick, somebody get a camera.
Actually what the camera'll be needed for is the stunned looks when she wakes
up.
Exactly!