7/10/99

Perhaps a hair under six feet tall, Corian is painfully thin, and has quite fair skin. Though she takes care to disguise her slight frame with baggy clothing, the spare lines of her face and the delicacy of her overly-jointed fingers hint at what is hidden. Her build is not even remotely athletic, with an absence of muscle that would not be out-of-place on a sedentary pre-adolescent. In fact, even her face looks quite young. If not for a presence and a self-posession rarely found in someone who is the age she appears, she could easily seem to be a young teenager. Silvery-blonde hair is cropped neatly at her jaw, the style attempting to make her narrow face look wider. Sparse brows arch over cloudy gray eyes, and under neat bangs. She has an obviously Edreeni cast to her features, and moves with the grace characteristic of that group. Her alto voice is quite flexible, and her Standard is without any trace of accent.

Those who believed that Corian's clothing was concealing before haven't seen this particular outfit. Made of opaque fabric that's a color somewhere between that of her skin and that of her eyes, the pale, misty gray robes are enveloping, with a head covering that lets only Corian's eyes be seen. The fabric itself falls to touch the ground, which makes her gliding pace rather uncanny. Is she on wheels? The clothing gives little clue to her figure, so it's only the delicate slenderness of her hands that gives that away. At the hem and cuffs of the robe, and over the forehead section of the head-covering, lotus-blossoms have been embroidered in pale silver-gray. On the third finger of her left hand, she wears a ring made of interlaced layers of malachite and gray, an interlooping and entirely complex object.

You head towards the Medical Bay.

Medical Bay

Even the circulation of air can't quite keep the antiseptic smell from this room. Immaculately clean, the tiles of the floor are the same pristine white as the walls. Gadgets and gizmos abound. The highest medical technology available for all the races that might conceivably come to the station are present. A pair of beds near the door provide places for emergent cases, their bioscan devices ready for monitoring. Doors lead to rooms for surgery, short-term care, and long-term care. (OOC note: To set your room doing, try 'I'm <doing>'.)

Contents:

Corian, standing by the door.

Clara, standing by the door.

Obvious Exits:

Short Term Care Chief's Office Elevator Lounge

You arrive from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.

Hey, look! It's the Ghost of Corian Present! Wherever it is that she got this particular getup, she seems rather amused by it, as the occasional graceful robes-swirling turn and the glint of her gray eyes would suggest. She pauses just inside medbay, the better to judge the situation. (She's not shy, she's just studying her prey?)

Clara is primarily alone in the echoing Medbay, although the voices of various nurses can be heard beyond the doors to short and long term care. As is usual, she's tracing a stylus along the wall monitor alternatel with making notes on a chart. Still, she is accustommed to hearing folks enter her lair, and she turns to greet before pausing a beat. "Ah...good morning? Can I help you?"

Corian replies, that same amusement audible in her voice, "Good morning, Clara. You're back from your vacation, I see. Did you enjoy yourself?" She crosses towards you, adding, "And the clothing was my father's idea--I wear it for the reactions, I suppose. This is why I should never complain to him about the clothing Hona sends me."

Clara's brows lift as she moves to set both stylus and chart on a desk, traded for a cup of coffee as she tilts her head in eye widened bemusement. "Corian? Good heavens, I'd have never recognized you. I should have, but I didn't. Is that traditional Kashidian?" She hesitates then, a patently sappy and wistful smile appearing. "Amazing, wonderful vacation."

Corian shakes her head. "Not traditional Kashidian, no--not exactly. There's a region where this clothing is popular, and Father thought it would be funny to gift me with some. He has an odd sense of humor." She does, however, pause to take off the head-covering bit, so that her player can have more flexibility with posing. "It's actually quite comfortable. And I'm glad you had fun," she adds, with a warm smile. "Vacations are wonderful, especially with the hectic life you and Riley lead."

Clara gestures almost dismissively with the coffee mug before taking a thoughtful sip. She treads forward a pace to bend sideways slightly and examine the outfit a bit more. "He's likely glad to be back. Anya was getting insistant. It's a gorgeous outfit, if disguising, certainly. Does Tarrant like it?"

Corian, of course, smiles at the mention of her husband. "Tarrant hasn't seen it," she replies. "Or, rather, he hasn't seen it on me. I'm not altogether sure what he'll think. I suppose I'll have to see. And sometimes diguising is helpful." As if that strikes a chain reaction of thought, Corian slips a hand into a pocket. "And that reminds me. I have a favor to ask of you; I'm afraid this isn't just a social call."

Clara half smiles at the reply, shaking her head as she straightens to drain another measure of coffee. "Tarrant will love it, trust me. I'll bet he'd like you in a burlap sack, let alone something that elegant." The reminder of her usual duty causes her to settle the cup on a desk though as she lifts her brows. "Anything for you, mon ami, just name it. Are you all right?"

"I am perfectly fine," Corian reassures, finally coming up with a disc for a datareader from said pocket. "I have been preparing for my change of employment, and it is likely that I will be doing quite a bit of traveling." And she does look a bit less than thrilled with that particular prospect, in fact seeming tired at just the thought of it. "As such, it has been suggested that I make sure that vaccinations are up to date. My employers were kind enough to provide a list." And then she offers the disc, something about her expression suggesting that she knows what it will contain, and the headache that will ensue.

"Change of employment? Your contract is up with the Complex?" Clara queries, just in for all sorts of surprises today as she takes the disk and regards it for a moment. "Or are they just shifting your duties?" she adds, moving around behind the desk to insert the disk into a terminal and start persuing it. After a moment, her brow furrows, followed by a low whistle. "I -thought- I knew most vaccines..."

Corian looks really quite apologetic. "I -am- sorry to ask this of you, Clara. But it's not altogether certain where I will be traveling, and it is altogether possible that I will be visiting worlds that are not yet in the Alliance, hence the odd vaccines. And, yes, my contract with the Complex ended just before Tarrant and I left. I will still be doing some translation work here, but on a much smaller scale."

Still standing behind the desk and bent over the terminal, Clara peers up over the monitor with an almost wistful smile. "Hopefully it was vacation for the two of you, and not work, although I should know better than to hope that. Can I ask who's stealing you away from us?" She taps at the keyboard again and blinks slowly. "Gotta get those from Regulus," she murmurs.

Corian's lips quirk briefly. "Actually, it was a vacation. We went to visit our families, which was wonderful. His parents have a farm--I had never actually seen that much open space. Quite wonderful, really." With a brief pause, she adds, "And I will be working with Tarrant--well, theoretically I will, that is. There will be jobs that we each must do individually, it seems, though I hope that those will be few." She peers briefly towards the terminal, then shakes her head fractionally. Maybe her employers are trying to get Clara to hone her rage?

Clara is a fairly quick fused temper, anyway, and gets daily chances to hone her rage. Fortunately, no one trusts her with a double edged light sabre. But she has speculums! "Working with Tarrant..." she muses, tapping through more of the extensive list. "I would congratulate you on the circumstances if I weren't going to worry," she notes, although with a warm smile. "Did you get to see Honalee by any chance?"

Corian, it may be noted, does -not- say that worrying is unnecessary. She is, after all, a realist. "We did see Hona, yes, and she sends her love. And she was kind, and only tormented Tarrant a little bit." She looks decidedly amused at this particular memory, murmuring quietly, "Poor Tarrant. Between Hona and his sister..."

Clara rolls her eyes, although whether it's at the list or at the idea of Honalee tormenting anyone is uncertain. She finally drops into the chair behind the desk, and waves at one of the chairs in front of it. "Pull up a seat. I do miss Honalee, so much. I was hoping we would be going to Kashid soon, too, but...well. Maybe not in the cards. Did Tarrant survive the relative torture?"

Corian eases herself gracefully into a seat. "He survived, yes, quite nicely. His sister is a wonderful woman, and his parents--and Sarah's children were ever so much fun." There is, briefly, a hint of wistfulness there, but then she shakes her head. "And it was wonderful to be on Kashid again as well, and see the family there. But it is good to be home." With a gesture towards the list, she inquires, looking like she knows the answer already, "Is that going to be difficult to complete?"

:glances up at the wistfulness, not replying to it, but rather offering an expression of kindred understanding, one professional woman to another. She bends her head back to the monitor again with a nod and a wry twist to her lips. "I wish I had better news for you, but yes, very difficult. I've got maybe a quarter of these on hand and the ability to synthesize maybe another quarter. The rest I'll have to order from all over the place."

Clara glances up at the wistfulness, not replying to it, but rather offering an expression of kindred understanding, one professional woman to another. She bends her head back to the monitor again with a nod and a wry twist to her lips. "I wish I had better news for you, but yes, very difficult. I've got maybe a quarter of these on hand and the ability to synthesize maybe another quarter. The rest I'll have to order from all over the place."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

"I thought as much," Corian replies, with a barely-aspirated sigh. "I will tell my employers. Perhaps they will just find an assignment that will not require the more hard-to-find vaccinations, for the interim. Though I cannot say that I mind the delay--there is that which I need to remember, and which I must learn anew. Time would be helpful, for that."

Clara taps through more of the extensive list, brows furrowing as she pauses at one entry. "Dicarlian cubelatonium? What in the world...?" she mutters, obviously baffled as she tugs up another application to crossreference. "Egads, they really do want you innoculated till kingdom come. I'll do my best, my friend, but these are -obscure-." She peers back up again, brows lifted. "This isn't a new job for you."

Corian's brows lift fractionally, but she says only, "This is not a new job for me, no. I had a hiatus--one that I anticipated to be permanent--but I did similar work for three years. It is not quite what Tarrant does, though," she adds, with a brief smile. "I will simply be making his job easier." After all, it's much easier to figure out which one to kill when you have someone who speaks the language. Right?

Clara opens her mouth with the intention of articulating exactly that thought, then merely offers a wry grin and a headshake. "Riley was right. You are evil, you're just sneaky about it. That's probably why I like you," she adds with a grin, tapping up another cross reference before rising to head for a locked cabinet, one that requires both her fingerprint and retina scan to open as she tugs out one of the few medical charts within. "So, question...do you want me to dose you with what I have on hand now? Or wait until I have it all?"

Corian's expression is one of rather mild injury. "Riley said that I am evil? Goodness, where -does- my brother get such ideas?" She's innocent, really. And, in fact, she -looks- innocent, as she has mastered that sort of look without making it overdone. At the query, though, a ghost of a smile crosses her face. "If it would not be difficult, I think I would prefer to be dosed with what you have. That could mollify my employers. And it seems like it would be a little much to receive them all at once."

"Well, he said something like that, at least. I think it's a requirement for siblings to malign their other siblings," Clara declares with an easy laugh, perusing through the chart before replacing it in the cabinet and moving to obtain a different chart from one with a normal lock. "Tarrant's vaccination list is singularly unhelpful, so I'm going to synthesize entirely new stuff for you, based on your genetic mix. I can assume you had the normal innoculations for Edreeni children as a kid?"

Corian inclines her head, though she does look rather amused at the sibling-maligning. "If he says that I am evil, I fear to think what he says of Evvy. And, yes, I did have those innoculations. It was a requirement."

"Snag a seat on one of the bioscans?" Clara suggests, tucking the chart under one arm to free both hands to pull a synthesizer unit over before liberating a plethora of empty hypos from one drawer. "He says Evvy is a lot like his mother, actually. I have to admit that if we do ever get to get married, I'll be glad our families won't be mixing for it. Kaboom."

Corian gets lightly to her feet to move to a bioscan. "That could be an... interesting mixture, yes." Hey, maybe she's related to Niko after all. "But, yes, Evvy is very like their mother. I can't help but be a little glad she wasn't there when we visited." Presumably, she means Evvy. "Poor Tarrant had enough torture as it was without Evvy being... well, Evvy."

Clara sets the chart open atop the synthesizer, visible only at a short distance as Corian's own, and starts tapping commands into the synthesizer, inserting one hypo at a time into it for filling. "I've never actually met Evvy, but Riley's told me about her. Niko's met her, I believe, though. When he went back to Hellas."

Corian inclines her head, watching the hypo-filling with vague interest. "I heard about that trip, actually. And Evvy really -can- be a very nice person, she's just somewhat... strongwilled." Ever get the feeling you're hearing an understatement? "She is certainly her mother's daughter."

"There's nothing wrong with strong-willed," Clara decides, setting another hypo aside before filling up the last trio. "I'd dare say most folks would say many women are strong willed...until they met Major Addison or Evvy," she adds with a grin. "Truth to tell, though, terrifying as it is, I am looking forward to meeting the family someday. Can you roll your sleeve up?"

Corian's sleeves are somewhat loose and billowy, so she settles for pushing one up to reveal her arm. Yes, she's still That Thin. "Oh, meeting them will certainly be an experience," she says tranquilly. "Father wants to meet you as well, though he will likely be kind. He rarely teases family on the first meeting, after all."

"Which father is this, just out of curiosity?" Clara has to ask, snagging a handful of hypos and examining them briefly before selecting one to administer. Then another. And another. You get the idea. It's a whole lot of hypos, and isn't it a good thing that they're painless? "Mr. Treston or Mr. Addison?"

Corian is certainly glad that they hypos are painless, and sits through the administering (administration?) with all apparent patience. "Mr. Treston," she replies, with a faintly apologetic smile. "I am sorry; that can get difficult. I refer to my original father as Father, and to Riley's father--Mr. Addison--as Dad. My original mother is Mother, and I generally avoid calling Major Addison much of anything." There's a hint of amusement in her gray eyes. "'Excuse me' works quite well, I have found."

Clara waves a recently emptied hypo with one hand, only to scoop up another handful of full ones. "Other arm, please?" she requests almost apologetically, then half grins. "And no problem. I'm actually starting to get used to the idea of piecing together yours and Riley's family. It's just mine's so tiny, it's quite a difference."

Corian shakes down the first of the sleeves, and pushes up the other. "I understand how you feel, please be assured. I was friendly with Riley and his family, of course--Evvy and I were very close friends when we were younger--but it did come as quite a shock to learn that I was related to all these people--even Aunt Kareen."

"That's right...you wouldn't have known about your relationship to Riley until you were a teenager," Clara remembers, pausing for a beat in surprise before resuming the mass innoculations. "Aunt Kareen...that's Jay's mother, right? Is that Major Addison's sister?"

Corian inclines her head. "Just so--Jay's mother, and sister to Riley's mother--Riley's current mother," she amends, with a sigh of amused exasperation. "This is easier in languages that has words to deal with this sort of relationship. And I was... twelve when I found out? That is an approximation. I was thrilled, of course, once the shock receded. It was quite nice to go from being an only child to having four siblings."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Clara shakes her head slowly, attention focused on more hypo administration, although gratefully the stack of various vaccinations is growing quite small. "I can sympathize right up to obtaining a slew of siblings. Mother was kind enough to produce only me, thank goodness."

Corian chuckles very quietly at that. "Oh, but you -do- have a slew of siblings now, Clara--or did you not know that we come with Riley? I am very sorry to be the one to have to tell you this," she adds, voice lightly teasing, but still quite fond, "But you've inherited quite the family."

Clara eeks quietly before snickering and administering the final batch of hypos. "This a'trezla business is scarier than I thought!" she exclaims, but with a fair amount of fond amusement herself. "I really won't complain, though. If I get to claim anyone as family, you lot are just who I'd want."

Corian rubs absently at the spot to which the final hypo was administrivia'd--clearly, it's not because of any discomfort, but because, hey, the spot is there. She looks quite pleased at your words, though she says lightly, "You have yet to meet most of us, though, and there are those of us who may make you wish to recant that statement."

Clara considers this admist clearing away the spent hypos to that deep and frightening vortex to which used hypos go, never to be heard from again. "You have a point, I think. I may just have to hide if we ever get to visit Kashid, and let them all blame it on my lamentable Terran upbringing," she jests, grinning. "And that, my dear friend, is all the various things I can send hurtling through your system today. If you have any reactions, call me -immediately-. I don't care if it's the middle of the night."

Corian nods as she gets her sleeves set to rights. "I will, Clara, of course." Or Tarrant will, if she doesn't. "Do you anticipate any?" she inquires curiously, as she eases herself lightly to the ground. "And, of course, some of the family understands how intimidating we all can be. Hiding, at least in my opinion, would be perfectly justified."

Clara glances back at the place to whence the mass of hypos vanished, shaking her head vaguely, but not looking entirely reassured. "You -shouldn't- have a reaction, no. I guaged them as best I could for the mixed genetics, but there's never a 100% certainty, unfortunately."

Aha, the hypo vortex. Hopefully, this is very different from the anal vortex. Corian nods amiably, straightening her robes. "I will be aware of the possibility, then. And thank you for your assistance, Clara. I do hope this doesn't cause too much difficulty."

"Never a difficultly, Corian, not for you or for Tarrant, of course," Clara offers with a fond smile. "I'd rather hunt down all of the vaccines than have to have you possible come down with Sterathian Whooping Cough, or goodness knows what else."

Corian inclines her head. "And my employers have similar thoughts. It is difficult to work when one is ill, after all. And even though you do not consider it a difficulty, your help is no less appreciated."

Clara flickers her fingers at this, reaching out for the chart atop the synthesizer and tugging a pen from her labcoat to make a few notations in it. "Same thoughts, different reasoning. I'd just hate to see you sick, to be honest. Still, if you and Tarrant are going to be on some distressing assignments, would you let him know I'd like to get a final checkup in on that knee of his? Just to make sure everything's still in working order?"

Corian inclines her head. "I will tell him, certainly, and I think that such a checkup would make sense--though it seemed to be giving him no difficulty while we were vacationing." No bowm chick-a bowm bowms, please, Corian doesn't mean -that-. Or maybe she does, but it would just be wrong, coming from a woman who looks that innocent. "I will make certain he comes to see you." Uhoh. Poor Tarrant. After all, Corian really -is- evil, even if she is sneakily so.

Clara finishes notating in the chart, a rather wry smirk twisting at her lips as she snaps it shut, and heads over to open up the over-secured cabinet and hide it away with the other bare few located within. "No hurries, of course, unless they send you two out to play soccer this evening. But that's as many vaccines as I can give you today. I'll get started on ordering the rest this afternoon."

Corian lifts her head-covering, wrapping it deftly into place. "You will forgive me if I do not mourn the absence of more vaccines," she says amiably. "And it is unlikely that we will be sent out today, I believe, or even for the next several days. But, after all, my employers are nothing if not unpredictable, so soonest is likely the best." She does note the over-secured cabinet, though only the faint quirking of her brows is visible, expressionwise. See? This outfit is handy after all. Corian's probably making horrible faces underneath it. "But I cannot suggest this to Tarrant until I locate him, so I should likely attempt to do just that."

"Forgive you? Saints above, I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. This list they're wanting is utterly frightening," Clara exclaims, not explaining why the transferring of the chart, although it's the same drawer she's always obtained Tarrant's chart from. "And far be it from me to keep a lady from her husband. Go on, mon ami. Give him my best," she adds with a grin.

Corian smiles warmly as she starts for the door, that expression reflected in her eyes. "I will certainly do so, and I daresay that you will be seeing him soon. Have a pleasant afternoon, cha'leket." With that, and a lifted hand, she glides for the door, really looking rather ghostlike with the outfit and the graceful gait. Maybe she'll scare a small child.

You head towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.

[Travelspam home deleted.]

Corian is, in fact, wearing the bizarre getup that her father gave her, though she has not done so in the past. Maybe she's entertaining herself. In any event, she moves quietly, the better to disturb any waking or working that may be progressing, the better to turn on her rather annoyed computer and check her messages.

Tarrant is seated on the couch, his legs stretched out into the space before the table. In his lap is a portable terminal, and he's tapping away, apparently intent on work of some kind. Well, okay, apparently until he mutters, "Stupid goblins, and I almost had a level too!" Yes, Tarrant too plays video games, he is, after all, male.

Corian looks over from her own machine, on the desk, with an amused smile. "Goblins?" she queries. "I fear to ask, but I believe I will do so anyway--what are you doing, cha'trez?"

Tarrant startles very obviously, he had not realized you'd entered the room, so deeply entranced was he by the game of much evil. He looks rather sheepish, but smiles at you broadly before drawling, "Playing ridiculous games, I'm afraid. One of my sister's kidlings sent me this thing via comm. She says she's beaten it, but it keeps beatin' me instead." He taps a few keys, then settles the terminal aside, "How's you're day been, m'lady love?"

Corian unwinds the covering from her head, depositing it--the covering, not her head--on the desk before she moves to the couch to join you. "It has been fairly uneventful," she replies, "As these things go. I was just down to see Clara. She would like to see you to check on your knee, she said, and she sends her greetings as well."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Tarrant winces slightly at mention of knee examination as he shifts closer to you, attempting to move an arm around your shoulders. "I don't guess she'd just settle for us all heading out to dinner, ya' think? We never seem to get to see the lady when she's not a'pokin' and a proddin'."

Corian suggests, with a brief smile, "Perhaps we could get dinner once she has finished? You do need to have her check your knee, though, love, if we are to go back to work. And you do want to be sure that you are at your best, yes?" She does, in fact, seem quite glad to have your arm around her shoulders, and she shifts closer briefly to kiss your cheek. "Clara is very sensible. It does not seem like too much to ask, I believe."

Tarrant grins down at you in bemusement. Yes, he's a sucker. He got a kiss, he'll go suffer the indignity of being poked and prodded. Besides, he likes Clara anyhow. "Best, shmest, I'm fine. But if it will please you, I'm more than willing. Besides, maybe I can con a lollipop out of her this time."

Corian chuckles very quietly at that. Her gray eyes are alight with amusement, but she doesn't make the comment that seems to follow naturally to her player--something about lollipops and being a good boy--instead just looking pleased. "Thank you, cha'trez. Of course you are fine, but it would please me to know that of a certainty. Should we go now?" See, she knows she has the upper hand just now.

See, now that's good, because if she said -that-, Tarrant would either turn lots of shades of red, or he'd toss her over one shoulder and flee with her. Either way, nothing would get done. He lifts his shoulders in a light shrug, grinning. "Hey, if you like, that's fine with me. A bit early for dinner, maybe a late lunch..."

"We can come up with something," Corian replies with a smile, getting to her feet and offering a hand. "And, after all, perhaps Clara will be unable to dine with us. If not, though, perhaps we can put in an early word for a later date."

Tarrant accepts the hand, interlacing his fingers through yours as he climbs to his feet, joints popping quietly. "Sat there playing that silly game -way- too long," he notes in an amused drawl before half-bowing to you, a gesture tricky with joined hands. "We shall certainly have to see."

Corian starts for the door, still looking just a bit amused. "Well, as long as you were enjoying yourself, my love... after all, there are certainly worse things you could be doing with your time."

[Travelspam to medbay deleted.]

"Yeah," Tarrant agrees, his drawl tinged with a purr of amusement. "But there's also lots better things I could be doing with my time." He meanders in alongside Corian, limping slightly, but no more than usual. He brightens, and offers a Clara-ward wave.

Corian doesn't contradict Tarrant as she walks alongside him, still in the same garb but sans the head-covering, instead inclining her head. "But you were enjoying yourself, yes? If so, then the time was well spent." She offers a smile towards Clara. "I know you said not to rush, but I thought that perhaps giving him time to come up with reasons not to come might be a bad idea."

Clara is predictably at her terminal, having printed out the frighteningly long list of vaccinations Corian needs and has perhaps half of them highlighted already. She peeks around the monitor in time to see the wave, and offers the pair a smile in return. "Already, indeed. Welcome back, then. Just a moment while I get all my mad scientist equipment," she offers, rising from the seat.

Tarrant shrugs lightly, looking amused as well. "Having fun, yes, though for the life of me, it's terrible for m'ego to be beaten at something repeatedly by a twelve year old." He grins in rueful amusement, "Lightning machines and all? I could be Igor..."

Corian doesn't quite sigh at the presence of the list of doom, instead releasing Tarrant's hand so that he can be made into Frankenstein's monster. That would make her the Bride of Frankenstein, right? Even though she isn't a chicken. "She has just had more practice with the games," she replies to Tarrant.

Clara will just fear if the machine that goes 'ping' starts writing random bits of fiction. "Igor is good, I always wanted an assistant," she decides affably, pulling a few machines into place before patting at a bioscan unit. "Up here, if you please. I need to put electrodes on your neck, now. Games?"

Tarrant agreeably shifts into a hunchback-esque position, exaggerating his limp and making his way to the bioscan, "Yessss Massster," he drags out the sibilants with an amused grin before hopping lightly up onto the bed. "She's also got the devious mind of a twelver, and I, of course, am not at all devious." He nods to Clara, "A computer game, I was being killed when Corian came up."

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian murmurs something about Igor perhaps being Sectassian--sibilants, after all, being very much present in that language. She finds a place to wait that is close enough to converse with the others. "By goblins," she adds helpfully. "Though it was somewhat disconcerting, to hear him inform the goblins of their stupidity without actually knowing what was happening."

"You two have a twelve year old hidden up in your quarters? Does she do dishes?" Clara goes about making a show of turning on her scanner and completetly ignores Tarrant's neck, instead stooping to run the device over his knee. "I'm afraid I don't do ressurection after death by goblins. My skills run more towards helping after death by ogres."

"Nah," Tarrant explains, regarding the scanning somewhat warily. "She's back home. My sister's little girl. She sent me a game she'd beaten. So far it's beatin' me instead of the other way round." He looks bemused, "Didn't mean to startle anybody. And I'll give a pass on resurrection a bit, I'll just haunt for a while."

"She's a sweet girl, though," Corian observes, with an innocent little smile. "Quite fond of storytelling." She watches the scanning as well, but with interest rather than with wariness. "And the haunting," she adds to Tarrant, "Will give you time to learn how to defeat the goblins." Never mind that she's the one in the ghost getup.

"Haunting's lots of fun, although I can't say I've ever been a ghost. Just a vampire," Clara explains absently, eyes focused on the readout of her scanner. "This been giving you much pain, Tarrant? More so than before the operation or less? And nieces are good, I'd think, even if they beat you at computer games. I may have to get the name of it from you and get a copy for Riley. Might do him good to shoot things other than the sims."

"I think I need to get the frying pan, then I can use it to get the magic key to get to the sword of goblin slaying," Tarrant attempts to explain as he watches the scanning in progress. "A twinge here and there. Less than before the operation, most assuredly." He mmhmms quietly, "Nieces are positively useful, even if it means they need tickling for evil telling of evil stories."

Corian flashes a quick smile towards Clara for her mention of vampirism, then nods amiably at the mention of getting the game for Riley. Hey, Riley could shoot Niko! Turnabout is fair play, after all. "Now, now, those stories were not quite -evil-," she chides, though the hint of amusement in her gray eyes would suggest otherwise. "And tickling the poor child is certainly not called for, Tarrant."

Clara nods approvingly at the the response, setting the scanner aside only to reach for a different one that emits a wide beam of light and shine that over said knee as well. "Excellent. I didn't expect all of the twinges to fade, since it was so, so far gone, but pain reduction is good. How's the mobility? Can you run if you have to? And from more than goblins," she adds with a grin up, then transfers it over to Corian. "You know, we still need to call Honalee, so she can tell stories too."

"If she'd been telling embarrassing stories about -you-," Tarrant protests laughingly, "You'd have thought she was evil." He nods amiably to Clara at her questions, grinning. "Yeah, I can run. Well enough to catch said twelve year old and torment her terribly. I could run before as well, but it wasn't enjoyable." He perks up, "Embarrassing stories about Corian?"

Corian offers a rather pleased smile to Clara. "You know, I had forgotten that." Tarrant's query, however, gets an abrupt shake of her head. "No, certainly -not- embarrassing stories about Corian. Goodness, why would there ever be such stories about me?" Yes, she really does have genuine-innocence-seeming down to an art form.

"Fast enough to torment nieces is plenty good," Clara decides, snapping off the second scanner and heading over for the heavily secured cabinet to unlock and pull out Tarrant's chart and make notations in it. "But no stories about Corian, she's right. Not that I wouldn't be interested," she adds with a grin at the other woman. "But if she's helping, I'll stick to embarrassing stories about Riley."

"Y'all're no fun," Tarrant protests laughingly. "I want embarrassing stories about Corian. I think it's only fair, turnabout and all." He twitches a foot lightly, regarding the knee. "Helping?"

Corian repeats patiently, "No embarrassing stories about me, Tarrant. Hona would make them up, and she is far, far too creative for my peace of mind." Clara gets a brief, grateful smile, and then she nods to Tarrant. "After all, it would put an end to the fun if she commed from their quarters, and Riley came in and interrupted the call. So we thought that comming Hona from our quarters would be safer--we can give you plenty of warning, so that you can hide, should you wish that."

"Patient as he is, somehow I think my dear, sweet significant other would rather protest the idea of the family matriarch telling me the embarrassing stories of his childhood," Clara agrees, nose wrinkling in a grin as she continues to write. "You're welcome to be there Tarrant, but I'm afraid it'll be frightening for all male types. Goodness, Hona might even make up things about you."

"I think hiding sounds good t'me," Tarrant agrees, shaking his head in bemusement. "I'd have to try and rescue Riley from said evil, him bein' male as well. And really, taking apart the comm again'd likely get me in trouble."

Corian seems to agree with Clara's sentiment about Riley's probable reaction to the fun. But, hey, as long as she doesn't tell the stories herself, she'll be safe--right? "You probably should avoid taking apart the comm, yes," she agrees with Tarrant. "I would very much appreciate having it in the appropriate number of pieces."

Clara flips the chart closed and replaces it before heading over to lean against the front of a desk, shaking her head with a grin at Tarrant. "You're welcome to try to rescue Riley, if you want, though. I'm sure he could use rescuing from time to time."

Tarrant slides down from the biobed, landing neatly. Yes, he's spotted escape and is trying to sneak away. "I won't take it apart, well, too much. It needs a bug-check again I'm thinkin'." Yes, an excuse for him to dismantle the toy. He nods, "Random rescue's always good."

Corian tsks very quietly at all this talk of rescuing Riley. After all, as his sibling, she can hardly condone that. "Poor Riley," she murmurs quietly, without much sympathy. Hey, did she just doom her brother to a lifetime of holding open... no, wait, these doors open automatically. She does, though, nod at the mention of the need for the bug-check. "With us gone for that trip, yes, that is certainly a good idea."

Clara is kind and does not make sudden moves to keep the various patients trapped in Medbay, regardless of whether they're patients at the moment or not, but stays leaning against the front of the desk, arms folded. "That's not a bad idea after being gone for a time, especially around here," she offers, lips quirking. "A small price to pay for a good vacation."

Now that Tarrant is not on the biobed anymore, he's a lot more cheerfull. Nobody's gonna come after him and perform medical procedures. "A very small price indeed. And it was awfully nice indeed. Low on the chaos level I'm usedta' from travelling with Corian."

Corian smiles briefly at the mention of the vacation. Vacations are, after all, wonderful things. "It was very relaxing," she murmurs. "Quite nice, most certainly. We will have to try and do that again sometime."

"I can't argue with that," Clara notes, unfolding her arms to lean her hands on the edge of the desk, grinning. "Neither of you shot, shackled, burned, cut, or generally abused in any particular way, from what I can tell. Just happy new clothes for Corian. Vacations are wonderful," she adds in agreement, a small but cloyingly contented smile appearing.

"I got some serious ego-bruising," Tarrant notes with an amused grin, "But aside from that..." He nods to Corian, "Seriously, it was glorious." He pauses, "Dinner, were we going to plan that?"

You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.

Corian inclines her head. "That we were, yes. Clara, did you have any plans for--" Alas, her comm-unit picks that particular moment to snag her attention. From the amount of s-sounds coming from the unit, it must be a Sectassian speaking to her, and she replies in the same language, then looking up rather apologetically. "I am afraid that I will have to absent myself for a time. But the two of you, perhaps?"

Clara pushes away from the desk to circle around behind it and shut down the terminal before scooping up her paperwork and tucking her pen behind one ear. "You two have a good dinner, then, and..." She blinks at the communication, then shrugs slightly. "No worries, mon ami. Business first. I'm sure Tarrant has other duties to attend to anyway," she adds.

"Maybe we can all get together later?" Tarrant notes in bemusement, "As the idea was to get all three of us in one place, and it is early for food."

Corian inclines her head amiably. "Later will be fine. I am certain that we can come up with a suitable arrangement." She takes a step or two closer to kiss Tarrant's cheek, then starts for the door with a lifted hand and a smile for Clara. "If I do not see you, do enjoy the evening."

You head towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.

MEDIC> Clara's brows lift at that, obviously in surprise as she tilts her head. "I certainly wouldn't object to dinner with you two, considering how long since we've all had a chance to natter. I'm not quite off duty yet, though, and early it is."

MEDIC> A greenish nurse with long ears agrees, "Early it is. Stay and work, you must." At least he doesn't say anything about quality merchandise at low low prices.

MEDIC> Tarrant grins rather absently, and offers a wave of his own. "When you get off duty then give a comm? It's been too long since we've had a chance to chatter it up."

MEDIC> Clara tugs the pen from behind her ear and waggles it at the quasi-somewhat brother-in-law type. "Comm, I will," she promises after rolling her eyes at the nurse with a snicker. "I'll even bring dessert. See you later, Tarrant."

MEDIC> "Dessert?" Tarrant perks up noticeably. Oooh. "See you then, then." And with that, he heads out.

MEDIC> Tarrant heads towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.

MEDIC> Tarrant has left.


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