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Tarrant and the teddy-bear study the planet of cold. They do not tapdance. It
is not a softshoe kind of evening.
The teddy-bear would probably fare better. Corian, though, comes in from the
hallway with a net bag, wherein are fresh fruits and vegetables, and a
package or two of pasta. She looks rather pleased with this fact, too.
"Hello, love," she calls, as she heads for the kitchen area to put away the
purchases.
Tarrant looks up from said studying and quickly attempts to hide the teddy bear. Really, he wasn't sitting there with it, honest. Not that he doesn't think you know he's weird by now, but he's still required to make the attempt. "Evening love," he drawls cheerfully, climbing to his feet to follow you into the kitchen to lend a hand. "Have a pleasant day I hope?"
Corian offers a pear. "Fairly pleasant, yes," she replies, pausing in the
grocery putting-away to claim a kiss. They're good, after all. "I finished up
that bit of translating for the delegates, and went grocery shopping with
Clara, and spent a bit of time with Xalin before I got the last of the
Alvandi learned, theoretically. Oh, and I need to find Elasia at some point,"
she muses.
Tarrant accepts the pear with an amused look and a murmur of thanks, leaning in to return the kiss with care. He then snags a bite of the pear. He needs his RDA of evil after all. "Mrrrm, good pear." Sit, roll over, fetch? "Wow, sounds like a busy day for that matter. Whatcha' need to be seein' Ela for?"
"Niko is being obnoxious," Corian replies. Of course, Clara didn't give her the
whole story. "He is refusing to go see Clara for his annual physical, and he
managed to use cuteness to get Clara to promise not to tell Elasia of this
fact. I," she adds innocently, tucking away the last of the veggies and
fruits and such, "Made no such promise."
Tarrant snags another bite of the pear, careful of the juice that attempts to
make a dive for his chin. Finishing the bite he drops into quiet laughter,
shaking his head in wry amusement. "My wonderfully devious darlin', I tell
you, you never cease to amaze me, I must say. And everybody thinks you're so
-innocent-."
Corian can't help but look pleased at that. "Appearances can be deceiving," she
says cheerfully, casting a smile over her shoulder as she heads back to the
living room area and takes a seat, probably somewhere very near to where the
teddy bear is hidden. "And how was your day, love?"
Tarrant meanders along afterwards, regarding your seat with a hint of
trepidation, but dropping down to sprawl cross-legged on the floor at your
feet. Yes, it's hardly formal, but for once he's not in a formal mode. And
this is close and comfortable. "Pretty good. I spent about half of it
downstairs, and the other half up here with memlearn tapes and reading and
such."
Corian rests her hands lightly on your shoulders, rubbing lightly. "Neither of
those things sound very pleasant, cha'trez. Do they have any better idea
downstairs on when we'll be leaving?"
Tarrant makes a decidedly pleased sound at your hands on his shoulders. "Ah, I
don't know. Being downstairs I could have given a miss. But being up here,
even with tapes and such is awfully nice sometimes. It's...well everywhere I
look there's something to remind me of you, and well...that makes me happy."
He shakes his head, "Depends on when they can get a secure liner to take us
there. It's way off the normal lanes."
Corian lifts one hand to touch your cheek rather lightly, a smile warming her
face, then drops that hand to your shoulder once more. "I think, cha'trez,"
she observes, "That 'way off the normal lines' really does show your gift for
understatement. Perhaps we can take a little time to get some warmer
clothing? It seems like it will be unpleasantly cold there, especially if we
manage to arrive during the cold season."
Tarrant chuckles quietly, a low sound tinged with wryness as well as pleasure. "I think you might have an idea there. Maybe haul out the company scanbook, and see about requisitioning some proper gear. Cold doesn't much agree with either one of us, might as well arrange to take that into account. Besides, it's fun to go through that thing and try and figure out what in the name of the holiest of creation some of that's supposed to be -for-."
Corian shifts somewhat in her seat, murmuring something about lumpy pillows. Of
course, she doesn't know that the reason for the lumps is that teddy bear. "I
haven't seen that in ages--though I -do- recall that evening where Emma made
up those stories about whatever it was on page twelve. I nearly injured
myself laughing."
Ooh, do Tarrant's ears redden a bit at the mention of pillow lumps? Grown men
should not be curled up with teddy bears, it's simply not polite, really. And
we won't mention his entirely unadult fascination with toy stores, oh no.
"The thing on page 12 is -scary- though. I mean, the pulleys! And the
marshmellow sauce dispenser! At least that's the best we could figure out
what the white stuff was. The cold gear at least is pretty normal seeming
stuff."
Corian nods her agreement, a quiet laugh escaping her. "I remember the other
options. Some of them really were quite disturbing, though I think John was
just trying to make me blush. Of course, he -succeeded-, evil man." She nods
at the mention of the cold weather gear, adding, "We should definitely try to
acquire some of that, lest we freeze on Alvand." She finally does reach
behind that pillow, and pulls out the teddy bear. She doesn't laugh, doesn't
even crack a smile, but instead nods and reaches around to tuck said teddy
bear on one of your legs. There.
Oooh, look how bright red Tarrant is turning. He attempts to cover by rummaging
amongst the books he had sitting to one side, pulling out a couple of
datareaders and poking at ones keys. He doesn't abandon the teddy bear
however, and in fact loosely situates one arm around it as he offers up the
poked 'reader, queued up to said catalog. "That was John's -job-, to be
evil," he manages, despite his embarrassed tone.
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
"Cha'trez, I hardly mind that you like teddy bears--or that you like other
toys, for that matter." Statements that Corian should not make to, say,
Honalee. (Oh, yes, he likes toys!) She leans around to take the datapad,
incidentally kissing your cheek in the process. "That was--ooh, quilted, this
is nice--part of his job description, yes. I think he put it on his resume,
too."
Tarrant sighs softly, seeming terribly pleased at the kiss. He can't help it.
Kisses are wonderful. "Other toys are allowable, by some sort of grand law.
But there's rules against teddy bears." Not that he abandons this one.
Instead he clambers up with it to settle beside you to read alongside. Yes,
he could key up the same catalog, but this way he gets an excuse to lean
against you. "Oooh, and they have -yellow-."
Corian takes a moment to mention, just so that she can make this clear, "I am not wearing yellow, cha'trez. It really does -not- become me." Ooh, but leaning is nice. She curls up lightly against your side, holding the datapad so that it's easily seen. "Maybe the blue, or that gray. Gray would be nice. Do you know if the Alvandi prefer any particular colors?" she thinks to ask. Maybe she'll have to wear yellow anyway, oh, the horror. "Blending in is rather crucial with people this insular, after all."
"Blue and gray would probably go over better," Tarrant has to agree, although
not without a bemused look for the yellow again. "Maybe something with a
thermal layer, so we won't look to be better insulated than the locals, but
nor will we freeze."
Corian nods rather gratefully for this suggestion. "Thermal layers -everywhere-
sound good, yes. I would hate for either of us to be miserable in that cold.
At least the Alvandi prefer those face coverings, so our noses will
remain--relatively--warm."
"Not to mention we'll blend a lot better into th'native population with the coverings." Tarrant snuggles in just a bit closer at the mention of all the cold. He's most assuredly -not- looking forward to this. "Ooh, and a heatable tent that works. Mine doesn't seem to understand what -warm- means."
Corian can't help but shiver just a bit. "Tents," she murmurs. "They live in -tents- in that cold. I really hope we can just complete the assignment and then come back -home-." It would be safe to say that she's not looking forward to this either, no. She smiles at the cuddling, though, resting her head lightly against your chest. "We should try to get this to them as soon as possible," she murmurs, "So that they cannot send us off without it."
Tarrant shifts an arm carefully around you, terribly pleased with existance for
the moment. His wife, her teddy bear, and a catalog of weird stuff. "I like
that idea. I've no intent on freezing eight ways to a sectless Sunday, I'll
tell you that for nothing. I put in protest, but they nixed it. If they think
it's important enough to send to folks not cleared for too much cold weather
work to it, they better set us up proper."
"The language is difficult, cha'trez," Corian murmurs, perhaps making excuses for the impending assignment. "But, yes, getting the gear is a wonderful idea. I would much prefer to cut down on the misery as much as possible. And maybe we can get a bit of time off after this, without something coming up."
"That'd be awfully nice too, it's been a while since we've had much of a
breather. They owe us one, with some mornings to sleep late and spend lazy
days." Tarrant considers the catalog, "THermal boots, yeesh. Silly light
fluffy things. Ah well, better'n frostbite."
Corian nods a firm agreement to that. "Clara would be rather put out with us if we came back with frostbite," she observes, only idly looking at the datapad, now, and apparently concentrating more on the moment. "Warm clothing sounds very good. Sleeping late sounds somewhat better, though."
"Sleeping late and picnic lunches in the sun," Tarrant agrees with a bemused
sigh. "Or splashing through warm puddles." He does note to add the word warm,
still not a fan of rain as a whole.
Corian gradually shifts to ignoring the datapad in favor of shared warmth.
Matter of fact, she reaches around to snag a blanket and add to said shared
warmth. "Warm puddles, yes, cha'trez. Only the warm ones. That all sounds
wonderful, though," she adds wistfully. "Especially the picnic in the sun. It
would, after all," she adds innocently, "Be therapeutic. Clara -told- me to
get enough time in the sun, and there will hardly be much time for that on
Alvand."
Uh-oh, there's a blanket in the equation. Tarrant sighs in an entirely
delighted and content fashion, attempting to hug you close. His tone is
amused as he replies, "I think we'd better get in such a picnic then, we
wouldn't want you to lack sunlight after all."
Closeness, darn. Rats. "Purely for medical reasons, of course," Corian murmurs,
with a deceptively sweet little smile. "If there were not a need, then, of
course, we would not take the time for such frivolity." Yeah. And there's
this bridge, and Corian's -selling- it...
Tarrant doesn't even -bother- to try not to laugh at that, leaning over to
gently place a kiss atop your head. "Oh never, of course not, goodness no.
Hey, did you know kites are theraputic too?"
"Why, no," Corian replies, tone still innocent but her gray eyes holding
decided amusement. "But if you say they are, cha'trez, then I am certain that
they must be. Kites and a picnic--actually it -does- sound wonderfully
therapeutic."
"Very calming," Tarrant attempts to assure, grinning in amusement. He snuggles
in closer though, barely repressing a yawn. "Like those meditation classes
they suggested to me with the guy and the candle and the kicking folks in the
head."
Corian's brows take a decided upward climb for that. "Have I heard that story?
That really sounds somewhat disturbing. Kite-flying seems like it would be
much, much more relaxing."
Corian's brows take a decided upward climb for that. "Have I heard that story?
That really sounds somewhat disturbing. Kite-flying seems like it would be
much, much more relaxing."
Tarrant stifles a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "You very well may not've. It's an old one. Somebody up at the head office got this idea at some point that we should all learn to meditate, and set up courses. Silliest bunch of foolishness I've ever seen. Meditation sound fine from what I've read, but these folks were looney. 'Stare into the candle, let it speak to your soul. Now, kick me in the head.'" This last is in some odd upperclass accent.
Corian just stares for a moment, then dissolves into quiet laughter, hiding her
face against your chest. "Oh, no. Is this gentleman still in the appropriate
number of pieces? That seems like a particularly dangerous thing to say,
after all."
"Well if he isn't, I didn't do it to him." Tarrant can't help but snicker softly as well. "I don't usually go in for maiming random lunatics. I just informed him Millians didn't come with souls, it was an option, and my mother decided to go for racing stripes instead, and then I left."
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
This answer seems to tickle Corian, as she laughs some more. "The poor man,"
she murmurs, "And poor you, as well. Though it really does not surprise me
that such a suggestion was made, knowing the.... oddness of our employers."
Too bad she can't make any lewd comments about racing stripes, but it just
wouldn't be IC.
"I've heard good things about the stuff from other folks, but I swear, if it
involves candles and kicking people, I'm right out on that." Tarrant's tone
is sleepy but bemused. "Yeah, our employers tend towards...trying stuff,
something like that."
Corian nods her agreement, then suggests gently, "Perhaps we should go to bed,
cha'trez? It was an early morning for both of us, and tomorrow is likely to
be more of the same."
Tarrant slides to his feet, the teddy bear tucked under one arm as he offers a
hand up, "I think that's a wonderful idea, love."
Corian tucks the blanket over the arm of the couch and gets lightly to her feet, taking your hand. "Well, then, to bed we go," she replies, with a smile. "And maybe tomorrow will be a little less busy."
Tarrant meanders off towards the bedroom area with a bemused grin, "Let's hope
so, certainly. Still, any day that ends with you being here, well, it's a
good one in my book."
Corian does release your hand to change into clothing more appropriate for bed,
and then ducks under the covers. Covers are good. "Curling up together in bed
will be nice," she decides, with a smile.
Tarrant rummages into something akin to pajamas, climbing into bed as well and
moving to snuggle around you. "Warm and cozy and altogether wonderful. Least
with a cold planet we'll be able to curl up."
And, speaking of curling up, Corian does just that. "Though we could do that on
most planets anyway," she murmurs, "Could we not? I suppose we might
appreciate it more on a cold world, though."
Tarrant curls in decidedly close, and um, so does the bear. "Yeah, but on a really, really hot one curling up might be less than amazing."
Corian nods an affirmative, apparently taking the cuddling bear in stride.
She's used to you by now, maybe? "Not a hot world here, though, at least,"
she murmurs, stifling a yawn. Oh, the evils of the bed. It is sucking the
awareness right out of her. "I'd be miserable on a really, really hot world
anyway."
"This is a nice world," Tarrant murmurs in a very vague fashion. "Sleep well my
dearest."
"Of course it is a nice world," Corian replies, equally on towards vague. "It
has you. And you sleep well also, cha'trez."
Tarrant murmurs quiet agreement and crashes out entire, asleep.