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You say "Cha'trez?" She sounds very pleasant--too pleasant, that sort of pleasant that implies smiling while gritting one's teeth. "Are you busy?" into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and announces "Not as such my star, what's wrong?" in Tarrant's voice.

You say "The meeting with the Jansites... did not go well, to understate." into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and says "They said no?" in Tarrant's voice.

You say "They said no. And they were rather rude about it, too. They also said that the difficulty with the trip to Edor was my fault, rather than their own." into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and blares "I'm so sorry love. They sound like jerks indeed. Does your contract have an opting out clause? A buyback maybe?" in Tarrant's voice.

You say "It does not--but it is only five more months." She sighs. "It is likely for the best. After all, I was planning to shift employment at the end of that time anyway. I would hardly be able to continue teaching the children, then--not with any regularity, at least." into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and says "Still, for them to heap rudeness on after evil, is insult to injury." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "It is, and I am going to be rude and petty in return, and refuse to complete their translations. It is immature, but it will make me feel better." into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and announces "It sounds like a wonderful plan to -me-. They get only what they deserve. Poor love, not been a good day." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "Well, I woke up with you, so the day -started- wonderfully. And telling Mother and Father about us was grand. It just went very downhill from there. It is looking up -now-, though." into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and says "Would you like to get together for dinner perhaps?" in Tarrant's voice.

You say "That would be wonderful, cha'trez. Should I come to you, or would you prefer to come here?" into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and announces "Either whicha' way's fine with me. Just so as I get to see you." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "Could you come up here, then? Please?" into the communit.

Your communit crackles to life and says "Of course love. I'll be there shortly." in Tarrant's voice.

You say "Thank you, cha'trez." 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, still looking just a bit grouchy. As you come in, though, she summons a smile and uncurls, to get to her feet. "Good evening."

Tarrant comes in, carrying a rather small duffle bag and a brown paper bag. He bows with a grinned greeting. "Evening my love. I am sorry it's been such an awful day."

Corian's smile widens fractionally. "You are here. My day is vastly improved." She returns the bow, with her usual grace, of course. "Thank you for coming up, love."

Tarrant settles the duffle by the door, coming over to you and proffering the bag. "Cheese and spinach ravioli? They need to be tossed through the heater, and it's kinda dull I guess, but I didn't think you'd want to do cookage after a day like this. Unless you'd rather head out for food?" He nods, "Anything I can do, love. Besides, I love being with you."

Corian, with a gesture towards the sleeping area, inquires, "If the duffle holds clothing, I cleared some space in the dresser and the closet. And cheese and spinach ravioli sounds far, far better than leaving this room does. Thank you."

Tarrant glances back towards the duffle, nodding sheepishly. "It does, although I promise, I will require little space. I don't own much clothing. Generally I replace clothes as I destroy them, keeping me at a generally low level overall." He nods, gesturing with the bag. "Have a seat and I'll toss it together?"

Corian nods agreeably. "Thank you, cha'trez," she repeats, as she heads back over to the couch. She pillows her head on a folded arm, adding softly, "I really am incredibly lucky."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant goes to rummage in the kitchen, placing containers in the warmer and setting on tea. "I don't know about that. I'm just used to fending for food on my own, so I tend to remember about feeding other folks."

Corian shifts to the other end of the couch, so that she can see partway into the kitchen area. "Well, it is something more than feeding, though, I believe. You make me feel better, just by being here."

Tarrant tugs the containers from the warmer, transferring first pasta and then sauce onto plates. Silverware is fished out and then tea is composed. "I am glad I may be of some help." He pads back into the living area, carefully balancing plates and mugs. He proffers you one of each.

Corian murmurs a quiet thankyou as she shifts upright enough, and relieves you of a mug and a plate. "It smells wonderful, thank you. Mm." She folds her legs lotus-style, carefully balancing her plate. "The Jansites seem gifted at skewing my eating habits."

"Skewing them?" Tarrant asks quietly, as he takes a sip of his tea before settling it aside to scoop up a be-sauced bite of pasta. "If it is good, it's a good thing. It's really easy to come by."

Corian nods, with a brief wrinkle of her nose before she turns her attention to taking a few bites. "Easy is certainly good. Would you show me where you got this? It seems as easy as frozen lasagna. And, yes--I forgot to get lunch, because of that meeting, and worrying about it."

Tarrant shakes his head sadly to that, "The Jansites need kicking then. You need to eat." He nods, making a vague gesture. "There's a little corner market two blocks down from the Pavilion on the main drag. They have a whole case of made that day pasta. It keeps several days in the fridge and heats quickly. Quicky food that tastes real. My favorite kind."

Corian says vaguely, as she's tracking down a particular bit of ravioli, "The Jansites need kicking anyway." The ravioli is stalked and eaten, all hail the mighty warrior, then Corian adds, "I will certainly have to investigate this market. Efficiency in cooking is certainly good, especially if the results are like this."

Tarrant munches on his own food a moment, half-grinning. "Anything with spinach in it is worth the tracking down. Although they had a lot of other flavors. I've tried the cheese and basil as well. Lovely stuff." He nods, "The Jansites go on the eye-poking list?"

Corian considers that for a long moment, as she munches her food. "They probably should not," she says, albeit with a hint of regret. "It would not be a solution, as tempting as that is. The results of that would not be worth the satisfaction."

Tarrant grins as he munches, pausing to note. "Awww, but it would be so great. I could go knock on the embassy door, and then when it was answered, just poke whoever in the eyes, thank them, and walk off."

Corian laughs very quietly at that, shaking her head. "-That- part of it would be wonderful, yes," she says, gesturing with her fork. "But then they would complain. They are," she adds, with feeling, "Quite gifted at complaint."

Tarrant sighs in mock sadness, "Aww, there always has to be an after, and it's so rarely happily ever."

"And they lived happily ever after," Corian muses, a her ravioli-skewered fork poised before her mouth. "Well, -we- will certainly do so," she decides, a quick smile crossing her face before she munches the ravioli.

"We will," Tarrant agrees emphaticaly. "Even if we don't get to poke their eyes. Maybe a little computer virus? Just an eeny weensy one..."

Corian shakes her head, with a quiet chuckle. "I would prefer that you not torment them, love. If you find the urge impossible to resist, though, well, I suppose you will do what you must." Her tone is rather whimsically amused. Yes, she's definitely in a better mood.

Tarrant sighs again, sinking back against the couch in a display put-uponed-ness. "I shall behave." This is said with a deep melodramatic sigh. "This behaving thing is new for me though."

Corian chuckles very quietly, though she says, after a pause, "Cha'trez, if you -do- wish to do something... well, I do not want you to change for me."

Tarrant stifles a quiet laugh, "I do not know how much changing I can do, certainly. Tiger and stripes and all, but I don't want to make any trouble for you. Still, it's nice to daydream about." He snags another bite of his meal.

Corian polishes off her meal and takes up her tea, expression combining amusement and relief. "It is certainly a glorious thought," she agrees. "But it would certainly cause some trouble, yes, I am afraid. So it is probably best not done, I am afraid. But I do appreciate the thought, cha'trez."

Tarrant picks through the last of his meal, finishing it off and settling the plate aside. "One of the best things about this world, all the different kinds of food."

Corian nods her agreement to that, settling into the corner of the couch and curling up around her mug. "I should go to the outdoor market at some point soon, so that I can restock the freezer," she muses. "The variety really is wonderful, though, yes. I should try and experiment somewhat, with some other recipes."

"We could go together?" Tarrant suggests amiably. "I could carry things. I think that's the traditional role of males, right?"

Corian casts a quick smile at that. "That is, yes, I believe. And you could also suggest foods that you like. I am certainly not going to say no to spending time with you, though."

"As much time as I spend up here..." Tarrant agrees amiably, taking a long sip of his tea. He regards it, "This stuff really grows on one."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian glances into her own mug with a smile. "I certainly do not know. I honestly do not remember a time when I did not drink it." She finishes off her tea, setting aside the mug, then murmurs, "So I am going to go to the market with my future husband." And her smile at that is rather dazzling.

Tarrant cannot help but grin at that, looking rather stunned and altogether pleased. "With my wife to be...What a phrase." He pauses, sipping from his mug. "My mother all but fell over. She was thrilled."

Corian looks, if anything, more pleased. "Wonderful, cha'trez, I am so glad." She folds her legs lotus-style, adding, "My parents were very pleased as well--though Father teased. There are times when I suspect that -he- is actually the one through whom I am related to Hona, though he is not nearly as bad."

Chuckling, Tarrant regards you in fond bemusement. "Teasing? Oh dear..." He grins thoughtfully, "I'm glad they're pleased, a lot of folks wouldn't. It's not as if they know me."

Corian reaches for your hand. "Well, and your parents do not know me, either, but you say that your mother was pleased." After a moment, she adds, "My family wishes for me to be happy. They can tell that you make me happy. So they are pleased for me--for -us-."

Tarrant settles aside his mug to take your hand in return. "Yeah, but I'm a wayward sheep, my parents are just pleased I managed to figure out what girls -were-..." He nods, grinning. "They sound like wonderful people."

Corian, shifting closer, flickers a quick smile to you. "They are. They really are. And, cha'trez, I am somewhat wayward as well, though not quite to your extremes." She coughs very quietly. "And... well, Hona--mm. Well. Never mind. She is very pleased." Yeah. That's what she was going to say all along. Really.

Tarrant's auburn brows lift, questioning. "Hona?" He nods to that. "I am glad she was pleased. Ah well. Wayward is fine, we can be wayward together."

Corian shakes her head. "She... well, she has suggested--she has said all along." Corian takes a moment to still her suddenly-nervous rambling. "She enjoys teasing me about you," she says slowly, "About us." She casts a sidelong glance at you, trying to figure out if she was being too oblique, or not oblique enough.

Too oblique seems to be the answer, as Tarrant just looks confused. "Um, okay." He even sounds confused. "You should tease back?"

Corian shakes her head, with a quick laugh that fades rather quickly to an almost painfully embarrassed look. "Cha'trez," she says slowly, taking up her mug once more to give a place to rest her eyes, "I am hardly going to tease my great-grandmother about her... nocturnal activities. If they even exist, I really do not wish to be aware of them. If I were to try, she would likely tell me--in detail--or she would make something up to tell me. And that is just something I would rather not hear."

-Now- Tarrant gets it, and turns red, rather effectively so in fact, starting from his ears and moving down. "Oh," he replies simply, sipping at his tea instead of commenting further.

Corian risks a glance at you, and winces just a bit. "I am sorry, cha'trez. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." She's making herself uncomfortable, that's for sure, and obviously so. "I... well, she knows the truth, if that is any consolation. She loves to tease."

Tarrant chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. "No need to uh...apologize. Maybe I do want to hide from this auspicious elder."

Corian's smile holds a hint of rue, for all that it is fond. "She has promised not to frighten you, but I cannot promise that she will not tease. She was just so glad to hear that you were not--a drummer." Hello, quick word substitution. "I never did understand that. Clara is a drummer, after all. Perhaps she has some limit."

Okay, this one throws Tarrant far enough for a loop that he manages to break being embarrassed. "A drummer? Is the drummer an inherantly evil segment of the population?" He pauses, "Maybe it is only male drummers. Perhaps..." He pauses, -he's- not about to say what his player is thinking about men spending time with sticks in their hands. "I shall avoid drums."

Corian gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, cha'trez. I do appreciate that, as I would have a difficult time explaining it to Honalee if you suddenly -did- become a drummer. I really do not understand her aversion to male drummers, though. Mother did not understand it, either."

"Is your father a drummer?" Tarrant questions, looking decidedly amused as he takes another sip of his tea.

Corian shakes her head, returning her mug to the table. "He is an artist, and even if he were a drummer, Hona -likes- him. I have chalked this up as something that I am not to know."

Tarrant stifles a chuckle, nodding. "I guess there are mysteries man is not meant to know. Still, it is a curiosity, and one that I would be amused to know the meaning behind. Still, as long as I avoid drums, all should be well."

Corian nods amiably enough, shifting juust a bit closer to you. "You could ask her," she suggests. "I am certain that she would be pleased to talk with you, though I really cannot guess at what she would say." She pauses a beat, then adds, "Father is considering coming out here for a visit. I am not sure if it will happen, though, as he would like to bring Mother as well, and she is so busy..."

"I would love to meet them." Tarrant settles his cup aside, grinning. "We could take them to one of the creative eateries."

Corian takes advantage of the cup setting-aside-ing to slide next to you, with a smile. "We shall see. He has attempted this in the past, but Mother's schedule is somewhat troublesome. I do think that you and Father would get along quite well, though."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant shifts an arm around you, moving closer. "Troublesome schedules I can certainly comprehend. I would like to meet him, certainly. I shall refrain from being overly evil, even."

Corian smiles at the arm-shifting, settling gently against you. "Such restraint," she murmurs. "My hero. What in the world would I do without you?" And though there's an element of teasing in her tone, her gray eyes are fairly serious.

Tarrant stifles a laugh, shaking his head. "Probably suffer less torment. But I am afraid I have no intent from rescuing from some of it. Torment is needful for existance."

Corian's brows lift at that. "How is your knee feeling?" Now, her segue could be considered abrupt. It's perfectly logical, though, if one remembers that she said you could tickle her, when your knee was up to the chase.

Tarrant moves his hand to tap at said knee, considering it a moment. "Pretty good," he replies. "It still hurts to walk on it, some. But it feels a whole lot better than it did. Nowhere near as rough as it was."

Corian rests her hand lightly on yours, with a quick smile. "Good. Very good, I am most glad. Absence of pain is, after all, to be preferred." Hello, rocket science. Nestling against you, she adds, "Clara really is an excellent doctor."

"I'd have to agree," Tarrant nods, grinning absently. "I shall have to think of some fitting way to thank her." He brings up a thumb to gently rub at your hand. "Not to mention it's hard to notice pain when I'm with you."

Corian suggests, with all apparent innocence, "Why, then, I should stay with you all the time."

Tarrant regards you with a pleased smile, "I would love that. I have no other wish than to be with you."

Corian smiles cheerfully at that, then looks for a moment like she's considering it. "Well, it could make work somewhat difficult," she muses.

"True," Tarrant murmurs, looking amused. "I guess you can't really let me tag along like a sad puppy all the time."

Corian nods an affirmative to that. "Forgive me, cha'trez, but some of my employers might object to having an observer in their top-secret and extremely boring meetings."

Tarrant stifles a snicker, "I don't guess we could convince them I'm a potted plant?"

Corian shakes her head, a glint in her eyes. She does not, however, suggest that you borrow her tree costume. "Somehow, that seems unlikely. But the job will not last -that- much longer, if you can wait that long."

Once again Tarrant sighs in mock long-sufferance. "I can wait I think. I shall manage -somehow-..." He chuckles softly. "Seriously though, it is best I do not always follow you. You would get terribly tired of me."

Corian shakes her head firmly at that. "I do not believe I would, cha'trez. I am still getting used to having someone else there, but it is hardly unpleasant. I love having you near me. I would not get tired of it." Of course, that last sentence is concluded with a yawn, and she looks sheepish. "I may, however, just get tired."

Tarrant smiles at you, looking decidedly fond. "To bed then love? Certainly you could use the sleep. Sleep's always good, it's best to save it up when you can get it, so you'll have it when you need it."

Corian nods to your question, starting to uncurl herself from you and the couch with a soft sigh. "To bed, yes, an excellent idea. It is a shame that sleep cannot be stored externally somehow--but then I would not have the joy of being with you." She offers a hand, then.

Tarrant accepts the hand with a nod. "Sleep's also fun, it's one of the finer activities that's ever been invented."

Corian doesn't say what her player thinks. Corian is too naive for that. She makes her way back to the bed, releasing your hand so that she can take off her shoes. "Sleep is wonderful," she agrees, as she curls under the covers. "And being in the bed, not quite awake, not quite asleep--with you. That is most definitely wonderful."

Tarrant pads back to the door, snagging his bag. He tugs from it sweatpants and a t-shirt, gesturing to the bathroom. "Mind if I change? Probably a bit more comfortable to share a bed with someone in something other'n denim." He nods, "To be curled up with you...it is terribly fine."

Corian shakes her head. "Of course I do not mind--please, go ahead. Though I do not mind denim especially, that looks as if it will be more comfortable for you."

Tarrant ducks into the bathroom, returning in a few moments with his clothes folded in arms. He tucks them and the bag just inside the closet, then heads to the bed, clambering back under the covers as well. "Much more comfortable, yes." He slides in close to you. "I just didn't want to be presumptious."

Corian is tired enough that the presence of the bed and the warmth of the blankets has already lulled her into a half-drowse. She curls up close to you as you join her in the bed, murmuring, "You did not presume, though I appreciate the politeness." She runs a finger lightly along a be-T-shirted shoulder, adding, "It feels more comfortable, yes. Comfort is good, especially when one is trying to sleep."

Tarrant shifts an arm carefully over you, snuggling in close. "Here with you, warm and comfortable, doesn't get any better." There's a drowsy pause and he murmurs, "Only star in my sky, sleep well."

Corian murmurs something vague, and certainly not in Standard, though you are unlikely to know Kashidian constellations. "I certainly will, my love," she murmurs, obviously near sleep. "And you do the same, please. I will see you in the morning--or the afternoon."

"I will," Tarrant murmurs softly, tugging the blanket up and tucking it around you both. "On the morrow."

Corian's answer is all but inaudible, and, as it's not in Standard anyway, that doesn't much matter. Instead, she snuggles just a bit closer to you, finally crossing the line into sleep.

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant does not sleep immediately, instead holding you long into the night before sleeping. But considering he normally sleeps til an obscene hour, this is hardly likely to be a problem. He's just happy, and enjoying being so.


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