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8/30/99
Alvand IV
It's cold. Very cold. Lots of snow and that annoying wind that whips right
through clothing. There's one sun and three moons.
Contents:
Tarrant
Corian shivers, despite the weather-appropriate clothing. The scarf-like thing
wrapped around her face hides her expression, as well as the Edreeni-ness of
her features. With the radio things, though, at least her voice isn't muffled
as she inquires, "Should we find a place to get the tent set up? Getting out
of the wind for a time would be wonderful."
Tarrant is kind enough to be standing between you and the face of the wind, as he's large enough in the thick parka to form a windbreak of sorts. He's been quiet, rather than his normal overly ridiculous self, proof that he's probably cold too even if he doesn't shiver. "I think that sounds like a terribly good idea. It'll give us a chance to start blending in as well."
Corian inclines her head in a brief nod of agreement. "Blending in is good."
She peers up at the sky, and snow gets caught in her eyelashes. "This will
certainly be a fascinating assignment. We can hope that it goes quickly, I
suppose." She picks up her share of the packs, then, lifting a gloved hand to
brush rather ineffectually at the snow.
Tarrant gathers up his share of the gear as well, although he attempts to make
off with some of yours as well. "Since I'm supposed to be playing the less
than brilliant and loquacious-lacking musclebound one." His tone is amused,
if somewhat strained. "It'll be an adventure. Let's just hope it doesn't make
us late for dinner."
Corian looks for a moment like she's going to resist the swiping of her pack,
then, with a sigh, apparently decides that it's not worth the argument. As
long as you don't cause her to fake an epileptic fit, that is. "I suppose
that depends on when dinner will be served. Perhaps the moving," she adds, as
she starts towards the destination, wherever that is, "Will help in the
production of warmth."
Not to mention it apparently pleases Tarrant to get to do this. He nods agreement to the latter, making his way from the concrete sea around the port to the pressed clay road leading off towards the settlement proper. "And we shouldn't be too long at this tent, it's got some cheaters in it the real ones don't. Let's just not invite anybody to visit, neh? At least not before we can mask off the internal struts and equipment and stuff."
And, hey, Corian will be able to read the instructions if they're written in
some bizarre language. The flashlight just can't be dropped, that's all. "I
will strive not to issue such invitations, cha'trez. Though it would probably
be safest to do the masking as soon as we may."
"Tonight's easy enough," Tarrant replies. As the traffic of similarly dressed persons begins to thicken he drops his head, evening his tread to a methodical and resolute pace, as if he's little more than the simpleton he's pretending to be. "So, I'm the mostly mute mechanic, who are you this time?" There's a pause and a snicker, "The cowboys or the indians?"
Corian is perhaps grateful for the thing covering her face. And, yes, the wind
whips that quiet laughter from her, so that it doesn't travel far. "I would
prefer neither cowboys nor indians. They both have their disadvantages. I
will be whatever seems appropriate at the time."
Tarrant glances back at you long enough for a quickly amused look before
shifting back into his position. He edges a bit further forward, picking a
path out through the thickening throng of people nearer the market area.
"They were right about a town out of nowhere almost," he notes, still over
the radio of course. "A sea of tents." He pauses at a haphazard sign, one
that indicates the directions to various districts. "We want the freetraders
district, yes?" Like asking does him much good, he can't read a word of said
signage.
Corian has slipped into a more 'normal' gait, one that lacks most of her usual
grace. Yes, it can be done! "The freetraders district, yes." She pauses to
study the sign, with a murmur under her breath in a liquid, musical language.
"Fascinating," she adds, via the radio. "It is this way." And she starts off
to the southern section. "A town out of nowhere," she adds, "in the middle of
nowhere. But at least they are not unused to visitors, and we will not be
marked for strangeness."
Tarrant has to shuffle aside so as not to be run down by a cart being drawn by two massively shaggy beasts. He even manages not to gawk at the roly poly draftbeasts as he makes his way back into the crowd cutting position. "Since the most of them are strangers to each other, yes. If we can find a place where there's already a lot of tents? Maybe closer to one of the actual trading stalls. It'll be easier to come and go at all hours if there's already other folks around to be expected to be making noise."
Corian glances over her shoulder at the sound of the draftbeast, gaze resting on you for a moment before she continues. "That sounds good, yes. Perhaps... ah, here we go. Near that one, perhaps, with the blankets? I have to say, I would not mind ingratiating myself with a supplier of warmth."
Tarrant can't help but add, "And somewhere far away enough from anybody with
one of those critters so I won't have to constantly fight the desire to go
pet one." He considers the tent in question and nods once, simply. "Works for
me. This is a pretty major thoroughfare, and should easily cover any coming
and going we do. And folks'll fill in thicker even as more folks come in, so
we'll be buried in the masses."
"Or you -could- just pet one of them, cha'trez, when it is not working," Corian
suggests, as she heads over to a suitable patch of ground and starts to
remove her packs. "They seem to be fairly docile. There is nothing that
states that we cannot enjoy ourselves while we are here, as long as the
assignment is completed." She pauses, then, glancing about the area. "Yes,
this seems like it will do."
There's a quiet rumble of a chuckle from Tarrant as he settles packs down as
well. His apparently in quite the hurry to have the tent up, as he sets about
untucking the gray and white monstrosity from its pack. He murmurs one of the
few phrases in the local language he knows, the equivalent of 'yes'm' as if
to provide to those passing and glancing over that he's a properly obedient
idiot, and nothing odd at all's going on. Over the radio he notes, "Yeah, but
then couldn't you see me trying to smuggle one back and con Gardner into
thinking it followed me home?"
Corian pauses just a moment in her own unpacking, this time of the various accessories required for tent putting-up. Those are laid out on a stretch of ground smoothed clear of snow. "Cha'trez, I do hate to tell you this, but one of those would not fit in our quarters. Gardner would be amused, though, I think." She's saying something in the pretty local language as she says this, though, so it's got to sound weird. And, yes, she does move to help somewhat, though, true to character, she lets you do the bulk of the work.
"Awww, but they look so -snuggly-," And as Tarrant's apparently gotten at least one chance to practice getting this tent up, it moves relatively quickly, although it's definately a two person job. He makes sure the entrance is set off at a skew, concealing it somewhat from the road without making it obvious that's the intent. Setting the pegs into the clay takes all his weight leaned on them, but they revolve down into the ground slowly.
Corian's response is amused. "We can get you a teddy bear, instead? Or a moose,
maybe? We could call him Mike, or something else that starts with M. Teddy
bears are much more economic." She finishes off her parts of the
tent-putting-up-ing and heads back over to snag her packs, the better to get
in out of the wind and start with the equipment setup. "And I did bring the
teddy bear, if that's any consolation. It was a shameless waste of space, but
I did not want to leave him." See? You're not the only child in the marriage.
Corian just hides it better.
Tarrant shifts his packs just inside the door, all but exuding an air of
innocence. How could he be anything but innocent after all? He's just a hired
killer is all. "You just want to try and keep me from stealing your teddy
bear is all, I see the sneakiness." He glances back. "Zip this up and fire up
the transmission blocker? I'll be right back."
Corian chuckles quietly. "Well, yes. It would be simpler if we each had our -own- teddy bears, then we would not have to share mine." She nods at the request, pushing back the mitten-parts so that only the glove-parts of her mitten-gloves remain. "I will do so, cha'trez. Be careful."
Tarrant ducks into the traffic of the road, although he keeps his walk to the careful pace the role requires. He's gone a while, but before too long the radio beeps quietly to imply he's entering and he clambers quickly through the door, tugging the flap shut as swiftly as possible to keep the cold out. He's carrying a brown paper bag. He whistles softly, but doesn't speak aloud, instead glancing to the transmission blocker before speaking.
"It is finished," Corian replies, narrow fingers involved in the unpacking and
setting-up of other equipment. She's taken off her gloves, apparently not a
fan of working while wearing them, but does still wear the vast majority of
her cold-weather clothing. "We can speak safely. Did it go well? And please
do tell me that you do not have one of those creatures in that bag," she adds,
lightly teasing.
Tarrant tugs back his parka hood, but seems no more inclined to remove the
actual outerwear either. He settles carefully crosslegged, grinning. "Nope,
just a baby one," he offers dead pan. He rummages however and tugs out a
thick blanket as well as some containers. "Actually just some hot food, and a
blanket, I wanted to get a look at the neighbors. And it looked warm." He
sounds sheepish at that last, he's cold and doesn't intend to admit it as
such. "They seem on the up and up. I know we've competition out there, but
they don't look it."
Corian looks up from the work with a look of almost painful gratitude. "Hot food. You are a wonder, cha'trez. I was going to come up with something once I have finished this, but that is such the better option. And the blanket -does- look warm, much preferable to something that would wreak havok on the tent." She nods thoughtfully, with a glance towards the vendors in question. "As long as the competition does not get in our way..."
Tarrant unrolls the blanket, the shaggy thing serving as a carpet of sorts for
at least one part of the tent. He climbs to his feet to investigate one
portion of the tent's gadgetry. Reluctantly he tugs off one glove to adjust a
dial a bit. "Hopefully that'll bring us a bit warmer in here. It just takes
time for these things to get up to any heat of any kind. We're insulated in
as well as out, so we won't show up on a heat scan as being warmer than the
neighbors."
Corian nods her agreement to that, going back to her own tinkering, the better
to finish it and get her own gloves back on. "Which is convenient. We will
have to be careful with that and guests, though." There's a final tweak and
then she tugs on her gloves, with a murmur about "until it is warmer."
Looking back, she inquires, "Perhaps we should eat, while the hot food
retains that quality?"
Tarrant pads back to the furry carpet, seating himself on one side and patting
in lightly in obvious invitation. "Sounds like a good idea to me. It's local
stuff, so we'd best triple check and scan it. I know supposedly it's okay,
but paranoia's better than food poisoning."
Corian nods a firm agreement to that. "Certainly, cha'trez," she says, with a
touch of fervor that speaks of experience. She snags the appropriate scanning
devices as she comes over to the furry carpet and seats herself close to you.
Sharing warmth, after all, is good. "After all, the department said we could
eat it, but they also sent us here, despite the fact that neither of us do
well in this type of weather."
Tarrant is daring, and tugs the zipper open on his parka, tailing out the coat on the side your on to share a bit of stored warmth. "You've got a point. I swear, I can't figure out what's got them desperate enough to send two folks most assuredly not rated for this climate out into it. It's misuse of resource." He uncaps a container of some pasta dish and offers it over to you and the scanner. "Lots of vegetarian options here at least."
Corian makes use of the scanner, though she says, with a bit of sheepishness, "I
have thought that perhaps I should go back to eating meat at some point, as
it is more nutritionally sound when I do not have access to... well, reliable
sunlight, that sort of thing. "I do think that I would -prefer- this sort of
thing, though." Gray eyes flicker to the readout of the scanner, and she
nods. "This is acceptable." The warmth-offer gets a grateful smile, and
Corian shifts closer to make use of the sharing. She did that well even when
she was a small child.
Tarrant offers over a second container, this one some kind of root stew, like
potato but local. He stifles a vague yawn as he does so, looking pleased that
the first passed muster. "Meat's useful, but honestly considering the meat
options at the place I was, this is not the place to try taking up the habit
again. It'd scare you off it for life. It's green. Not that it's off, it's
just -green-. Talk about not inspiring a desire for the local equivalent for
a burger."
Corian's brows shoot for her hairline. "Green?" she inquires, though she does take up the second container, trading it for the first. "Green sounds -quite- distressing, though if we are to be here for as long as it was suggested this assignment will take us, we may have to break down and try it." The scanner is used on the stew, and she nods. "This will work as well, yes--actually, quite nutritious. We can hope that it will taste good."
"Not to mention there's other places to try, with offworld foods, which we'll at least know better." Tarrant rummages for a couple of drink thermoses, "Scan those too? Tea of some kind, I -think-. It was hard to tell. Whatever it was, it seems popular and it smells like baking cookies, so I wasn't going to turn it down when it came with the food." He rummages for utensils and plates and napkins as such, snuggling in a hair closer.
Corian perks up a bit at the mention of tea, and makes use of the scanner. "These are fine as well, though we should not drink -too- much of it. There is something not unlike caffeine. And we can try more, certainly, yes, though this tea smells marvelous." So it should be gotten again. Food is dished out, and Corian does her own share of snuggling. Warmth is good.
Tarrant pokes through food a moment before scooping up several bites, his
expression rather lost in thought. "I'd vote we didn't set to scanning for
the target until morning. It's getting on dark out there, and colder as the
sun creeps back, neh? I don't know that either of us need to be out in that
until we're a bit more acclimated." He glances at his watch, considering some
readout on its face. It's not his normal archaic watch, but something
digital. "Acclimation'll help at least."
Corian nods a firm agreement to that, setting aside the scanner before pulling
on her gloves and starting on her own meal, eating neatly but rather quickly.
"I would tend to agree with you. And the trip was a bit uncomfortable.
Recovering from that would be good as well. Tomorrow is soon enough for us to
get started."
Tarrant snags another couple bites before peering at his food a moment. "And there's the issue of trying to blend in, easier after getting in some observation time." He carefully caps the container his food was in, tucking the utensils away properly before going to rummage in the gear. Pulling out various thermal layers he begins carefully covering the equipment and the structural variances. "Recovering is indeed key. Multiple jumps are never fun, no matter how many times one does it." He fumbles at an eyelet and then gives up and sheds the gloves. Slowly he continues, carefully of the tiny ties. "Hopefully that wet weather'll hold off another day or two, as well."
Corian shudders just a bit at the mention of the nasty weather, and packs up the food containers, tucking them into some sort of storage unit. "We can hope," she murmurs. Watching you for a moment, she inquires, "May I help with that, cha'trez? It will go more quickly with the two of us."
"Nah love, keep your gloves," Tarrant glances back with a fond grin before
turning to the next fastening. "Besides, I've got to get my fingers used to
functioning in this. Those folks out there take their gloves off regularly
I've noticed, and if I'm actually called to do anything as a mechanic I'm
supposed to be I've got to be able to move my fingers. You could unpack the
blankets though maybe? See if they stuck a heater in there," his tone on the
last is joking.
Corian chuckles at that, with a shake of her head, and starts on the unpacking.
"No heater," she reports, amidst the unpacking and the making of a bed. "But
were they supposed to send this?" 'This' would be some sort of air mattress,
which is inflated and used for the blankets and such. "If not, then someone
recognized the evil of this assignment."
Tarrant perks up at the inclusion of said air mattress. "Ooh, comfort and insulation. You can't beat that at all. Somebody had a decent spot I'd guess." He tugs off his parka, hanging it in the loop near the door provided for said parkas. He's in no hurry it seems however to shed the thermal sweater beneath it. The thermal equipment cover is finished at last, with one last glance towards the thermostat. He pads back towards you, "One nice thing...tent's properly tall enough to stand up in at least."
"They at least have adequate sizes in housing here, yes," Corian agrees. She gets up to take off her own parka, though not without a hint of reluctance. "Perhaps," she suggests, "We should just go to bed, now? There are enough blankets that we shouldn't be cold." Though, yes, she doesn't seem likely to get nekkid, or anything even remotely close to that.
Tarrant considers your words, his brows dropping a moment. He does however nod agreement. "Part of me knows there's other stuff, but be danged if getting warm wouldn't be a bigger help than any of that." Dropping to the floor he tugs off his boots carefully, setting them to the side. Checking his wrist unit he adds, "And it's warming up in here, if slowly."
Corian pulls off boots as well. She's got a couple layers of wool socks, yay
wool. That done, she curls up on the air mattress, under lots of blankets.
"It can wait, cha'trez," she murmurs. "Everything vital has been finished.
Everything else can wait until the morning."
Tarrant climbs to his feet to adjust the light at the center of the tent before making his way through the dark to climb into the bed as well. He knows his job and shifts in as close to you as possible to lend you as much heat as he can. "Ooooh," is his heartfelt and irrepressable murmur at the blankets warmth. This world is a long way from the deserts his parents were designed for. "Morning, danged skippy it can wait, lovely lady."
Corian cuddles close to you, apparently quite the fan of this warmth-sharing
thing. And apparently the trip was more tiring than she suggested, as she
falls asleep all but immediately. Well, that or she's learned to sleep when
she can. Something like that. In any event, she sleeps, and sleeps hard, and
shares warmth, and all that other happy stuff.
Tarrant is awake a good deal longer into the night, but he holds carefully
still, curled close around you to provide warmth and insulation, and share
yours in return.