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Tarrant sleeps. He's been doing a lot of that lately after all. And like he's
going to wake up when he's this comfortable?
Corian, on the other hand, wakes--slowly, gradually, but inevitably. She's warm, she's comfortable, she's--very close to you, and that realization comes with a brief start. She doesn't pull away, though, not wanting to wake you.
Tarrant is however, as has been noted, a relatively alert kind of guy. While he can sleep through pretty much anything he knows to -expect-, well, small random movements he doesn't think are supposed to be there, like startled Corian types, are enough to wake him. It's not a rapid thing however, as he does feel exceptionally warm and comfortable. Where he is hits him with a resounding thud. Ack! She's gonna kill me!!! Well, if you were psychic, and Tarrant was Pumbaa, that would be what you'd hear. He doesn't realize you're awake, so he slowly tries to disentangle himself gently.
Corian, as she -is- awake, aids somewhat in the disentanglement by shifting away fractionally. "Good... mm, I believe it is afternoon." She's really -trying- to be casual about this, but not succeeding very well.
Tarrant freezes as he realizes you're awake, looking rather sheepish. "I
um...I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to...it wasn't on purpose...I mean...I didn't
mean to offend you."
Corian shifts so that she's half-curled on her side, facing you. "If you did
not do this intentionally, then of course you did not mean to offend--and you
did not offend me, I was merely... surprised, I suppose. I did not expect to
wake in that manner." Hello, understatement. She's gotten a little better
about sounding casual, though.
Tarrant shifts to sit upright, looking rather excessively embarassed indeed. "I
uh...well I'm not -sorry-, it was warm, but uh...well I -am- sorry, I didn't
mean to bother you." He slides his feet over the side of the bed, rummaging
for his boots.
Corian blinks at that, and sits up as well, absently tucking a few locks of hair behind one ear. "You did not bother me," she says quickly. "I was surprised, that is all--not bothered, not upset. It was unexpected." She pauses a beat, then inquires, somewhat more softly, "Are you leaving?"
Tarrant stops rather sheepishly, shaking his head, glancing down at the boots.
"Urm, well no, I guess..." There's a pause, "Somehow I don't know if I can
explain why having shoes on makes one more innocent. It's a long and bizarre
story."
Corian considers for a moment, then offers, folding her legs lotus-style, "I could put on shoes as well, if you like? Would that help?"
Tarrant just pulls his legs back up to sit normally, shaking his head. "That's
okay, it's not the same thing. I...like I said it's a long and ridiculous
story involving someone named Seth, and we know, anybody named Seth must be
up to no good."
Corian nods slowly, looking just a little bit confused. "I have not known many
people named Seth," she says. "But, of course, if you have noticed this,
cha'trez..." She shakes her head, a brief smile crossing her face. "Well, I
can take it ias a given."
Tarrant in fact shifts to lie back down on his chest, head towards the foot of the bed, chin on crossed arms. "Sethage is altogether dangerous, ayup."
Tarrant in fact shifts to lie back down on his chest, head towards the foot of the bed, chin on crossed arms. "Sethage is altogether dangerous, ayup."
Corian pauses for a moment at your particular positioning, and starts to say
something a few times, before she shakes her head and inquires, "Did you
sleep well?"
Tarrant nods, albeit somewhat awkwardly in his position. "Very well, yes. I was..." He trails off, deciding it's probably not best to comment on how comfortable a night's sleep he got, considering. "How about you?"
"Just fine," Corian replies. She fidgets with her necklace for a moment, then adds, "I dreamed that we were back with the old group. It was rather odd."
Tarrant shifts his head to one side on his arms so he can regard you, "Odd?" He
questions gently.
Corian inclines her head in half a nod. "Have you ever had a dream that was
very similar to actual events, but had certain details wrong--small,
niggling things that were just enough to catch the attention? It was rather
like that."
Tarrant ahhs quietly, nodding again, "Yeah, I've done that. Everything just feels ... wrong, off, and it seems odd that nobody else seems to -notice-."
Corian nods once more, gaze distant. "That is just how it was. Nobody seemed to
consider it unusual that Alik was speaking Jansite, for one--or that everyone
could understand him. Very unusual." She shakes her head, then. "It is of no
matter."
Tarrant settles down a bit, relaxing into the bed. "Was it a bad dream aside
from that?"
Corian shakes her head. "No, not at all," she replies, with a wistful smile. "It was wonderful, aside from the details. We were planning an operation--a large one, requiring several groups. I got Emma right in the dream, at least--remember how excited she always got, the day before she was to go out?"
Tarrant grins at that, expression absent in fond rememberance. "Yeah, like a
kid getting ready to go on vacation. You'd've never have guessed she was as
sharp as she was from her exuberance."
Corian leans back against the headboard, legs still folded. "She was excellent, yes," she agrees quietly. "Those were good days, I think, despite how they ended. Sometimes, I wish they could have lasted longer."
Tarrant gives up and shifts to sit upright, although he does so slowly. "They
were wonderful days. A happy story is no less happy because it had a sad
ending. It was a wonderful place and time to be, the second happiest I've
ever been. It was nice to be with people who understood, as entirely and
completely as anyone could."
Corian's smile is faint, her gaze briefly distant before it focuses on you once
more. "But sometimes the ending can color the perception of the entire story.
It is difficult to remember only the positive--but, yes, they understood. And
now, for the most part, people do not."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Tarrant sits cross legged, elbows on knees. "No, they don't. This is the oddest
place I've ever been stationed. Still, we understand each other, which is
something at least. And this way nobody is going to come tie me to the bed
with bungee cords. It had its moments where I wondered of we were some kind
of reject summer camp."
Corian's brows arch slowly before memory hits, and she laughs quietly.
"Cha'trez, please do me this favor and do not mention that incident to
Honalee? She has quite enough fun tormenting me without being handed such a
perfect straight-line." She shakes her head, a hint of amusement in her eyes,
then adds, "In some respects, I suppose it was a sort of camp. The work was
serious, of course, but so many of the people were not, so much of the time.
There has to be -some- sort of outlet, after all."
Tarrant blinks a moment and then snickers, nodding, "I shall endeavor to so refrain, yes." He considers that a moment, nodding. "And for so many of us, that was the first time we'd really had friends on thet deep a level. So we were prone to excesses of silliness. Although honestly I saw nothing wrong with trying to build a kite big enough to fly Kerri from."
Corian chuckles very quietly at that. "I do not suppose that there -was- anything wrong with that. It would have made for entertainment. I just worried about the safety, especially with the winds as unpredictable as they were. Kerri likely would have enjoyed it, though, once she got used to it."
Tarrant grins absently at that, shaking his head, "Ahh, once thing the group as
a whole lacked. A reasonable attitude about danger. I guess I should have
known the explosion was coming. We thought in that building we were safe,
indestructible."
Corian's smile fades slowly at that, and she shakes her head. "How could you
have known? How could any of us have known? We should have been more alert,
but... well, the environment, the safety allowed us to become complacent. I
still do not believe that we could have anticipated something of that
magnitude, though."
"It always seems to happen that way in the stories though, the gods punishing hubris?" Tarrant regards the blanket beneath him, "Although if I were a god, I'd think I'd do better to spend my efforts elsewhere."
Corian shakes her head at that. "I do not believe," she says slowly, "That it
is hubris to feel safe, and to have friends. It was something that we all
deserved, an oasis, if you will."
Tarrant smiles at that, looking perhaps a bit sheepish. "I had never lived like
that before, been safe, had friends in number, I have nothing to compare it
to as an oasis or an eden one. I simply know that I enjoyed it, and was glad
for it, however brief it ended up being."
Corian shifts forward on the bed, with a shake of her head. "Never?" she
inquires, as she reaches for your hand. "Cha'trez, that is truly a crime. It
is something that so many take for granted, and yet you only had it for so
short a time."
Tarrant shifts to take your hand, shrugging lightly, "It is difficult to find
anything amiss with the way I've lived. I've had friends, just never so many
in one place. Moving around so much, as well you know I'm sure, is hardly
conducive to such arrangements."
Corian nods her agreement to that. "Of course," she replies, carefully
interlacing her fingers with yours. "And I never did have many friends, of
course. But even when I -wasn't- exactly safe, I usually felt that I was.
Call it selective blindness," she adds, with a faint smile. "But the feeling
of security was worthwhile."
Tarrant gently squeezes your hand, absently shifting a bit closer to you.
"Selective blindness sounds particular nice, certainly a lot more pleasant
than professional paranoia, although honestly, I'd long learned to be
paranoid before I got into this buisness."
Corian inquires, after a moment of thoughtful consideration, "Why is that? What
did you do before you got into the business? Other than blowing up asteroids,
of course."
"Not much, I got into this right out of college more or less, after a brief bit
with the AF. Nah, see, what Dad did was decidedly less than popular. And
well, the folks from the labs and all. At least I come by paranoia honestly,
it's inherited." Tarrant shrugs, looking amused, "I try not to let it get the
better of me."
Corian murmurs, with a faint smile, "Hereditary paranoia. I suppose that makes sense." She doesn't ask for more details, instead regarding you for a long moment, smile warming. "Not letting it get the better of you is good, yes."
Tarrant squeezes your hand gently again, relishing the contact. "Being paranoid is no worse than being anything else, as long as it's handled in moderation."
Corian's lips quirk at that. "Cha'trez, you are the first person I have heard
to make 'moderate paranoia'. That seems like something that would be more
difficult to limit to moderation."
Tarrant laughs softly, shaking his head, "No more difficult than anything else.
We just call it different things when it's in moderation. Being careful,
wary, cautious..."
Corian inquires, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of your hand, "But do
you not tire of being careful, wary, cautious... that sort of thing? I see
how you are when we go out, and I would have difficulty being so... so aware,
I suppose."
"Yeah, I do," Tarrant replies quietly, eyes on the blanket. "Or rather it is
not that I ever feel tired of being that way, but when the time comes I do
not have to be, I enjoy it so much, I can infer that the other state is less
than pleasing."
Corian lifts her free hand to touch your cheek, perhaps in an attempt to draw
your gaze upwards. "So you are able to stop being so aware, which is good. I
do not suggest that you try to do so more, of course--that, it seems, would
be potentially dangerous. But I do hope that you will enjoy that as much as
you can."
Tarrant glances up in fact, at the touch to his face, his eyes unthinkingly seeking yours. "When I'm here with you, then I don't have to be that way. I trust you. Last night..." He trails off, unable to finish the thought.
Corian smiles at your words, though her hand remains on your cheek. "What?" she
inquires quietly. "Cha'trez, you will not offend me or upset me by your
words. I... sometimes it is easier, when one is asleep, to admit to what is
wanted."
"Last night, I felt altogether safe," Tarrant admits, although his eyes drop again. "As if nothing at all could get in or do harm."
Corian's hand drops as well, but only to rest lightly on your shoulder. "You
see," she says quietly. "Perhaps one may learn selective blindness. But...
yes, I understand how you feel. I do not believe that I have slept that long
or that well since I was a young child."
Tarrant brings a hand up to cover yours gently, "Even old dogs can be taught
new tricks certainly. Sometimes we're just a bit slow is all. And well, all
this is new to me too, I've never been in a situation like this, I find
myself altogether awkward."
Corian's smile is maybe a bit wry. "If it is any consolation, I feel rather the
same. I... well, friendship is the most that I have had. I honestly do not
know what we should be doing. Hona said--well, among other things, she said
to do what was comfortable. It is just a question of learning that, I
suppose."
Tarrant nods, shifting still a bit closer to you. "Which is made trickier by the fact that what is comfortable is often uncomfortable first."
Corian echoes the nod, with a rueful little chuckle. "Or it is at least, as you mentioned, somewhat awkward. But... well, we are learning, yes? And we need not go any faster than we would like--if we are able to determine that."
Tarrant nods to that, rather slowly, half-smiling. "We are both learning new
tricks, yes. And there is nobody to judge us on the speed by which we learn
them."
Corian shakes her head to that. "Only ourselves, yes. And I will not judge.
Goodness knows I am likely to take a while, though," she adds, a bit
hesitantly. "Some of this... cha'trez, I love you very much, but this is all
very new."
"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Tarrant murmurs softly, regarding you in a thoughtful fashion. "This is as new to me, I promise, as it is to you."
Corian smiles at the quotation. "What is essenstial is invisible to the eye,"
she echoes. "Saint-Exupery, yes." At that last, however, she pauses. "Really?
You have never..." She doesn't quite elaborate that, but does look a bit
surprised.
Does this mean Tarrant requires taming? You are the blonde after all. You have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat. Fox or man, he shakes his head, looking somewhat sheepish. "No, I haven't."
Corian doesn't even consider taming, or wheat, she's too busy coming to realizations. "Oh," she murmurs. "I thought... well, I suppose it does not matter. So we will be able to learn all this together."
"That would've required time, and trust, neither of which I've had in
combination before." Tarrant replies quietly, expression still quite awkward
indeed.
Corian nods slowly to that. "Part of me is sorry for that," she replies, "But I
must say that the rest is quite selfishly glad. And I am glad that I know it,
as well. I... well, I thought that you were going slowly only out of
consideration for me."
Tarrant stifles a quiet laugh, ducking his head, "I wish that I could claim
consideration, as I try to have a great deal of that for you, as I love you
so much. But in this case, I suppose it is best marked up to sheer terror and
confusion."
Corian blinks at that, expression a bit concerned. "Terror? Cha'trez, why are
you... no, wait." Her expression is rather rueful. "As I have been afraid as
well, I can hardly ask you why you are."
Tarrant shifts just a bit closer still, chuckling quietly. "I think fear is
normal in such cases. I have no idea -why- I think this, but I do. Or rather
I guess, I should say I hope this is true."
Corian says thoughtfully, finally moving so that she's almost touching you, "Perhaps I should have asked Hona. She seems to know everything -else-..." With a shake of her head, she adds, "I daresay that you are correct, though."
Tarrant all but exudes contentment to have you so close. "Isn't that the job of grandmothers and their ilk though? To know everything about such things? I ask out of lack of knowledge mind, not having a grandmother, or a great one."
Corian nods to that, still rather thoughtful. "They have the experience,
certainly--though I'm rather closer to Hona than I am to any of my other
grandparents. Father's family is on Pstiev, after all, so I do not see them
quite as much as I do the others."
Carefully, slowly, and as if ready to bolt, Tarrant shifts to attempt to place
his arms around you. "Experience, shemrience, it's not just that I'd think,
though they'd likely tell you so. Parents wish to have a hand in guiding
their childrens lives, understandable I'd think. I'd guess it goes up to
grandparents et al as well."
Corian smiles at the gesture, certainly not about to object to it. "Well, yes,"
she agrees, with a smile. "Hona's certainly the kind to... mm, guide." No,
she's not thinking 'meddle', of course not. "But her advice is excellent, and
I've not known her to be wrong. It just sometimes took me longer to see that
she was correct."
Tarrant relaxes a bit as you do not object, but does not move further. This is
as daring as he gets. "Everybody's wrong sometimes, there have to be
exceptions to prove the rule."
Corian nods amiably to that, with a contented little sigh. She's comfortable,
you are here, and she's blissfully ignoring the fact that her work is likely
spawning in her absence. "I am certain that she has been, of course--I merely
have not witnessed it. Riley would know. He has spent much more time with her
than I have, after all."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Tarrant nods to that, falling into a thoughtful silence as he sits here with
his arms around you, eyes cast downwards, simply being comfortable, and still
smelling faintly of tree.
A new cologne idea, perhaps? Corian, settling a little more closely against
you, doesn't seem inclined to break the silence, content simply to be. (And
not to go into a monolog.)
Tarrant is quiet in fact a long time, simply enjoying the closeness of you,
tightening his arms around you ever so slightly. "I could wish the world
would simply stop, so we would have all the time to sit here like this," he
murmurs at last.
Corian shifts so that she can look up at you, a hint of wistfulness in her smile. "Unfortunately, the world will not stop simply because we are happy. But that does not mean that we cannot stay this way, or do it again."
Tarrant nods to that, smiling fondly at you, expression still deeply
thoughtful. "Though I suppose I ought to let you alone for a bit. We've work,
and I probably ought to get properly cleaned up, check and see if my spurs
have been repaired yet...As much as I love invading your home, it is yours,
and I should not intrude so much."
Corian, after a moment, nods a rather regretful agreement to the comment on
work. "I love having you here, though, cha'trez--but, yes, I should have been
to work hours ago, and you have that which you should do as well, I am
certain."
Tarrant does not disentangle himself immediately, instead venturing one last
hug of sorts before nodding and shifting back. "A couple of contracts on the
table, yeah. A pleasant day toy you then, my love."
Corian remains perched on the bed, returning the hug and then watching you with a rather wistful smile. "And to you as well, cha'trez."
Tarrant slides from the bed, gathering up jacket and weaponry and sliding on his boots. With a flourished bow he heads for the door, letting himself out.
Tarrant leaves the room.
Tarrant has left.