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Aliana comes in from a hallway.
Aliana blinks as she suddenly arrives into the light, taking a quick step back. After a moment she peers out into the lobby.
Clara is just coming back out of Medbay, not quite paying attention to her surroundings except so as not to run into anyone full tilt. In continuing this effort, she pauses in recognizing one woman. "Evening, Aliana," she offers.
Aliana grins as she steps fully into the lobby...then points, 'I found a way here...without using the box' She seems rather proud of this accomplishment.
Clara glances back towards the nondescript door, hands stuffed in her pockets and smiles faintly. "You most certainly did. Not the most pleasant part of town to go through to get here, but it works."
Aliana shrugs slightly, 'But its interesting to explore.'
Clara nods pleasantly, giving the door another thoughtful look. "Exploring certainly is. Is that what you're up and about to then this evening?"
Aliana peers after the girl before turning back to Clara with a quick nod, 'I keep finding places I had never been before.'
Clara's lips quirk in a grin as she shakes her head. "Tell me about it. This place is like a maze at times. Still, don't let me keep you from your exploring, yes?"
Aliana starts to turn back to the hallway...A pause as she looks over her shoulder, 'Doctor?'
Clara turns back as well at the summons, brows lifted but hands still in her coat pocket. "Yes?"
Aliana takes a deep breath as she steps back towards the doctor,' Has that bonded been to see you yet...A'grin?'
Clara turns fully, brows raised in professional interest. "Why, no, he hasn't. Not yet at least. Was he planning to? I'd really love to get his biostats given his unique circumstances."
Aliana starts to speak before falling silent as the doors open. Once he is gone she begins softly, 'I haven't spoken to him since then...But Doctor, what will happen ?'
Clara lifts her brows in surprise at the question. "I'm not quite sure what you mean, Aliana. During a physical exam? One much like what you went through. Oh, I check a few different things on men, but certainly it's nothing traumatizing. Why?"
Aliana rubs the side of her nose thoughtfully, 'I mean...I saw the looks on people's faces in the Dining Hall...Either they thought he was completely crazy or lying.' A pause as she tries to put a thought to words, but she just shrugs helplessly.
Clara aahs softly, comprehension dawning. "If it's any consolation, I neither think he's crazy nor lying. Actually, I'm withholding judgement until I can examine him. In the meantime, he is still a Bonded Guildmember...or at least, I do assume anyone bonded to a dragon is?"
Aliana nods her head quickly, 'He is indeed a Bonded Guildmember...As all who bond to a dragon.' Nose is rubbed again as she thinks this over, 'How should I put this? He isn't some freak, Doctor.'
Clara's eyes widen significantly, distraction dropping entirely. "A...what? Oh, good heavens. Oh, Aliana, I never said he was. He isn't, not in the slightest. Please, you must understand, at this point, I'm highly inclined to believe the story as put. You just don't study xenobiology on Linnae without studying dragons, and we were taught telepathy precludes falsehoods." She hesitates, brows furrowing. "Who's been saying he's a freak?"
Aliana narrows her eyes thoughtfully, question ignored as she asks one of her own, 'Xeno-bio-lo-gy?' She says, sounding out the work carefully, "How does one study Xeno-bio-lo-gy on Linnae?'
Clara has the grace to look abashed and apologetic. "Aw, bother. Sorry. Xenobiology...the study of lifeforms other than, well, in my case, humans. So I can treat people other than humans. Now granted, dragons are a little out of my range, but it works otherwise." She doggedly brings the topic back. "Has someone been harassing this A'grin fellow?"
Aliana thought she was human...But who really knows anymore, Question is waved aside as she shakes her head, 'Not in my hearing.' Side of nose is rubbed yet again as she asks, 'Am I the Xeno..or Islien?'
Clara's grin quirks, first at the dismissal, then at the question. "For me? Islien, since you and I are both human. But I am," she assures, "fully trained to doctor up us human critterlings, too."
Aliana ohhs, then a slow grin fills her face, 'We have medics that are specially trained to take care of the dragons...And me, I don't need no Doctors...I'm fine as I am.'
Clara taps at her forehead, nodding. "That they do, and that you are. I figured that out when you came in for your exam. I imagine I'll not have too much business amongst you Bonded folk, which is fine by me. Not that I'm adverse to seeing you, but usually if you need to see me, somethin's broke."
Aliana grins, 'That's one less thing for you to worry about, then.'
Clara chuckles, shaking her head ruefully. "You can say that again. Life's just a little busy with the Interegnuum and all. Not that I've ever worked in the Complex without it going on, but that's beside the point."
A funny look crosses Ali's face as she tries this word out for size, 'In-ter-egnum?' Hand reaches into her pack for a small notebook, 'What does that mean?'
Clara blinks at the woman, completely taken aback by this question.
"Ah...Interegnuum? The period of time in which we have no Council Head? For the entire Alliance government? Interegnuum."
Aliana nods her head as she considers this then pad is flipped open to a blank page, 'And how do you spell that?'
"I-N-T-E-R-E-G-N-U-U-M. Interegnuum," Clara spells carefully, reciting at a speed easy to follow by writing. Yes, she was in spelling bees as a child.
Aliana grins as she writes that down, then in very careful script she writes its definition afterwards. A pause as she rereads it, 'And that other word...Xe-no-bio-gra-phy?'
Clara tugs her hands out of her pockets and folds her arms, peering with interest. "Xenobiology. X-E-N-O-B-I-O-L-O-G-Y. Xenobiology."
Aliana carefully writes this word down as well...then writes out, 'Study of people that are not humans.' Handwriting is a rather blocky print.
Kyara arrives from the Security Central.
Clara opens her mouth, then grins slightly at seeing the definition. "I guess I have to be honest. It's really the study of aliens. A Stilvani studying xenobiology would be studying humans since we're aliens to them."
Riley arrives from the Security Central.
Kyara pauses, overhearing Clara. "Beg pardon?" she interjects curiously.
Aliana considers her definition for a moment...then crosses out the humans and writes in "the same". She jumps at Kyara's voice and pad is shoved into her pack...exit is eyed to make sure she has a clear path to it.
Clara glances up at the question and flashes a grin at Kyara. "Defining xenobiology," she explains, then catches sight of Riley behind her, smile faltering a touch. "Hey," she offers, then steps back with a reassuring smile at Aliana. "Hey, relax...it's okay."
Riley offers a polite wave as he pads in behind Kyara, albeit a good few steps behind. He's a bit zoned looking, but offers a good natured grin and a murmured, "Hey Clara, Hey Ali."
Kyara ahs, grinning. "You would be the one to define that, Clara." She gives Ali a smile. "How is your Islien tonight?"
Aliana grins as she moves to lean against the wall, 'Relax? Me...I am perfectly relaxed' Riley is considered carefully, 'Though not as much as him.'
Clara returns her hands to her pockets, smirking at the observation. "I refuse to comment on that," she decides, stepping away from the elevator to give the pair room.
Aliana grins at Kyara, 'She said to tell you that she is doing very well...and to thank you for asking about her.' A pause before she grins broadly, 'She would like to know how you are.'
Kyara laughs, a touch of irony to the sound. "I am better than ever." She shakes her head, giving Clara a smile. "Will you join us for dinner?"
Aliana seems to take that at face value as she nods.
Clara gives Kyara a vaguely puzzled look of curiosity, and actually thinks the request over for a moment. "I might grab a cup of coffee, yeah. Maybe not for too long, though. Is that where you're headed, then?"
Riley moves to one side to prop up a wall and to get out of the way of other traffic.
Kyara nods, glancing toward Riley. "I'm afraid he was so busy... I mean, he was working on my paperwork- he was relaxing, Clara, really... I didn't give him time to eat."
Clara utters a sigh of mock frustration. "Ky-ara, that is -not- good for my patients if you keep distracting them from food and sleep," she quips, then jerks her head at Riley. "C'mon you. Let me guess...another day of chocolate bars?"
Kyara blushes, ducking her head to stare at her toes.
Riley's brows lift and he shakes his head lightly, "Nah, Anya's still got me away from chocolate on pain of the short end of a tangler, eh?"
Clara considers this, then simply heads for the elevator. "Well, there's not any food here in the lobby," she decides affably and stabs at the button before her hands go back in her pockets.
You push the button.
From the elevator, With a ping, the doors slide smoothly open.
You walk into the elevator.
From outside the elevator, Aliana just watches the exchange, eyes growing a bit bigger. Her mouth moves to sound out the word tangler slowly then she nods.
From outside the elevator, Riley walks into the elevator.
From outside the elevator, Kyara walks into the elevator.
You push the button marked 1.
The elevator direction light changes to DOWN with a ping.
The elevator glides downward and goes "ping" as it reaches floor #1.
With a ping, the doors slide smoothly open.
You leave the elevator.
You head towards the Dining Facility.
Kyara arrives from the Central Atrium.
Riley arrives from the Central Atrium.
Aliana arrives from the Central Atrium.
Aliana beams as she pops in...sometime after the others.
Riley manages somehow to acquire a bowl of stew, a bottle of water, and a seat. It's a miracle, but applause isn't necessary.
Kyara gives the real food a wistful glance, squares her shoulders, and argues with the vending machines for a few moments.
Clara simply grabs a mug of coffee, no surprise, and follows Riley without speaking, sliding into a seat somewhere across the table and watching the others at the vending machine thoughtfully.
Riley pokes at the stew with a spoon, carefully ferreting out the carrots. "Already eaten, Clara?"
Kyara procures a double helping of chicken flavored ramen noodles, and heads over to join Clara and Riley, still clutching her soda.
Clara almost starts at the question. "Huh? Oh...yeah. Down at some little cafe across from the Fruvous. A few hours ago, I guess. Why?"
Aliana settles down at a nearby table and pulls out a couple of packets from her pack.
Riley peers at Kyara's food choice a moment, looking more than a little confused. After consuming a couple more carrots he shakes his head at Clara. "Just asking. Making sure you're eating and all."
Kyara chuckles, winding noodles around her fork. "You two..."
Clara also peers at Kyara's choice in surprise, but then shrugs, seeming to chalk it up to experimentation as she makes a face at Riley. "Go in to medical practice lately?" she retorts, amused, then gives Kyara an innocent look. "What?"
"Ayup," Riley murmurs before poking at his stew again. "Correspondence course. Get a medical degree in five easy steps. You wouldn't wanna go around hindering a dumb security goon's attempt at garnering an education, eh?"
Aliana carefully opens one of the packs...and stirs it carefully with a spoon.
Kyara chuckles. "If one of you isn't telling the other to eat and sleep, the other one's doing it. You two sound like..." She cuts herself off with a rueful smile, snickering at Riley.
"Sure I would," Clara responds with a serene smile. "Gotta keep you fellas in the dark somehow." She rolls her eyes at Kyara with a faint grin, but doesn't respond to that carefully, instead peering over at Aliana. "Still don't trust the vendors?"
Aliana supplies helpfully from her table, 'Like my parents?'
Did you know it's possible to choke on ramen noodles? It is, and Kyara proves it for a few seconds before getting some soda down her throat. She gives Ali a quick look and swiftly shakes her head.
Riley resumes poking at his stew, now finding the potatoes. "Hey, careful or I'll set Anya on ya. She'll shoot, I'm not kidding. She's proved it."
Clara doesn't even respond to the idea, but instead takes a long sip of her coffee, almost as if she hadn't heard a thing. "And Anya's always right," she adds absently, eyeing a distant salt shaker.
"Bingo." Riley agrees, "So eat."
Kyara snickers. "And get some real food in you," she advises. "No chocolate."
Clara makes a face, looking down at her mug. "I -ate-, I told you already. If I eat any more, I'll explode, and that would hack maintenance off royally."
"Maintenance -is- royalty." Riley's tone is still a bit vague, but he sounds more amused than anything else. "I kid you not. Arthur's the eighth son of a prince."
Kyara chuckles, her tone curious. "Okay, Clara. What'd you have?"
"Whose name is Henry?" Clara muses vaguely, then hides her expression behind her mug, eyes dancing before she blinks at Kyara, then explains loftily, "I had a ham sandwich and a bowl of minestrone. Does this meet with the approval of the general assembly?"
Riley pauses as if considering this at length, "Should we call a formal vote?"
Kyara nods, smothering a grin.
Clara finally shoots a mock-glare at Riley. "You are -so- asking for it, Addison," she mutters in a low voice, trying not to grin.
Riley is the very picture of innocence as he pauses in the consumption of stew. "-Me-?" The tone is still a little zoned, but it holds incredulity. "Me? But, but, what did -I- do?" Mean evil medics picking on the nice but not altogether bright security goon. Sniff. That's so -vicious-...
Nephire arrives from the Central Atrium.
A melodious voice says, "Welcome Nephire Thievious."
Kyara just snickers into her noodles. "Lovely dinner show they put on here."
The Vendotron emits a snort. "Well, it's your giros."
Vendotron 3000 dropped Nephire's Cheesy Poofs.
Nephire gawks in delight. "Finally... the bloody vendotron gave me my cheesy poofs!"
"You!" Clara responds, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "Mr. Innocent, hah. Nice? Maybe. Not altogether bright? In your dreams. Evil security man? Entirely," she snaps, then returns to studying the salt shaker and sipping her coffee.
Nephire sits at a table.
Riley gives another dramatic sniff, shoulders hunched forward as if he's being -terribly- put upon. "I was just trying to be -helpful-..."
Nephire looks over his shoulder, shrugs, then digs into his totally unhealthy (but tasty!) Cheesy Poofs...
Kyara chuckles, reaching up to give Riley a mock-sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Now, Clara, you /know/ how sensitive he is."
Clara glances up at Kyara, expression bland aside from a definite sparkle of mischief in her eyes, and doesn't respond. Instead, she rises smoothly, leaving her mug behind, and passes around the back of the table, snagging a full pitcher of water from a waitron on the way. Coming in close behind Riley, she upends the entire contents onto his head, then sets the pitcher down and calmly walks towards the door.
Nephire tries not to laugh... but quietly giggles to himself.
Riley makes a sound that's somewhere a cross between a 'yerk' and an 'ack'. It is -not- a noise security officers make as a general rule, and it's rather startled and loud. Snickering helplessly he sets about trying to fish ice cubes from the high collar of his uniform, "Okay, okay, so I don't get an Oscar..."
You head towards the Central Atrium.
DINING> Kyara jumps, laughing as she scoots her chair and lifts her bowl, trying not to get wet. "Oh my... oh, she got you /good/, Riley."
DINING> Aliana eyes widens as she does giggle....her gaze darting towards the doorway, Clara's stock has obviously risen in her opinion index.
DINING> Riley glances towards the door, snickering falling off as he realizes Clara's left. "One of these days I guess I'll learn when to joke and when not to, eh?" He brushes off the worst of the ice, seemingly unbothered that he's dripping.
DINING> Nephire jumps down from his chair, and hobbles over to Riley's table. "May I sit here, oh great hydrated one?"
DINING> Kyara just shakes her head, amused. "Now what'd you do to inspire that, Riley? Or is that one of those things you're not going to answer."
DINING> Nephire looks somewhat anxious to chat about why Riley had been soaked in the first place.
Clara stalks out of the dining area, hands stuffed in the pockets of her uniform, and makes her way towards the pavilion, dodging diplomats and staffers here and there.
DINING> Riley glances at Nephire adding a distracted nod, "Uh, if you don't mind the damp. Yeah." And to add ridiculousness he snags his bottle of water and takes a swig of it. "Kya, I have -no- idea. I guess she didn't want to be poked about it." He pauses, "Now, to figure out if I go make more of a nuisance of myself by tracking her down, or just go and change, eh?"
You head towards the Massive Open Air Pavilion.
DINING> Kyara chuckles, advising, "Change first, then hunt her down. I'll bet you anything she went back to her office, and I daresay she would not appreciate wet upholstery."
DINING> Nephire climbs up the side of the chair and takes a seat, his head barely able to see over the top of the table. "thank-you."
DINING> Nephire says "So, Mr Riley, what did you do to provoke her to drench you like that?"
DINING> Riley clambers to his feet, nodding. Snagging the waterlogged bowl and bottle he disposes of the dish. "Yeah, um, a thought." He shakes his head at Nephire before heading out, leaving a trail of damp prints, "Not a clue."
You head towards the Java Quarter.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Clara?" His tone is hesitant. "I'm sorry, eh?" in Riley's voice.
You say "Hmm? Sorry for what?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Uh, whatever it was I said. I was um, hoping you could enlighten me." in Riley's voice.
You say "*rueful laugh* It's okay. I guess I overreacted a little." A lot. "Are you all right?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Just a little bewildered. And damp. Anya of course snapped a picture." in Riley's voice.
You say "Oh, dear. I...I am sorry? I guess I just figured...I dunno. It's not important. I am sorry." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "Clara, of all people I can't think of anybody on this planet who deserved a pitcher of water over the head more. But, um, what is it I'm supposed to stop doing? Cause you know, impromptu showers are amusing, but could be inconvenient." in Riley's voice.
You say "Nothing Riley...nothing. You're fine. It was just a sudden urge, y'know? Just teasing...but I guess in the wrong space and time. Go on back to dinner, hey? You need it." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "The water I understood, I guess it was the leaving that threw me most." in Riley's voice.
You say "*snicker* Ever heard of running from retribution?" into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and announces "Oh. I guess you just seemed so upset, it didn't occur to me to try to get you back." in Riley's voice.
You say "Upset?" She sounds startled. "I'm not upset. I just...I just have a lot on my mind. That's all." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Anything I can help with? I have a gun? I could shoot things for you?" in Riley's voice.
You say "Yes, I know you have a gun. I even know how it works. *amusement* Really...I just have some things to work through, and I sort of wasn't expecting so many people around tonight." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Ahh, sorry. I'll letcha' alone then. Gimme a yell when you feel like company maybe?" in Riley's voice.
You say "*long pause* Ah...yell?" Embarrassment colors her voice. "I'm tired of thinking." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "*choked snicker* Want me to meet you someplace? Or if you really wanna avoid folks I can show you one of the dozens of hiding spots?" in Riley's voice.
You say "*laugh* Up to you. I'm fine either way. Let me know where you want to meet, since I'm out in the Java Quarter right now watching the world go by." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and says "It's up to you. Wanna watch the world go by or hide from it?" in Riley's voice.
You say "C'mon down here. I'll buy you a cup of decaff, silly man. I'm by that big old oak tree with the fence around it." into the communit.
Your communit crackles to life and blares "Check, be there in two shakes." in Riley's voice.
Riley arrives from the Dark Alley.
Clara is leaning against a railing protecting a patch of grass surrounding a tree, watching the traffic move up and down the street with a fairly neutral expression, hands clasped and lab coat unbuttoned.
Riley's hair is still damp, but he's changed from his uniform. His shoes show a faint grayish-brown patina from the trek Underground. He pads up behind, "Heya' Clara."
Clara glances back over her shoulder, then turns around fully, offering an apologetic glance over the damp curls. "I really am sorry," she begins. "Talk about act first, think later..."
Riley offers a grin that holds the memory of delight, reaching up to ruffle through the drying mop. "Hey, it was -funny-. I'm just glad Anya didn't snap the picture till I was upstairs. The look on my face must have been far too priceless at first."
Clara pushes away from the railing, a laugh emerging as she starts towards a small vendor selling various types of coffee. "I wouldn't know. But you did wince really neat," she offers. "Gotten all the paperwork filed for Kya, then?"
Riley ambles along afterwards, pace and distancing marking him as a guard if his clothing does not. "Yeah, this afternoon. She filled it out while I suffered through speechifying in the Grand Hall and then I put it in the computer for her. So now we wait."
Clara is distracted enough that she doesn't even notice the guarding pace, and she stops to coax a pair of foam cups from the vendor before handing one over to you and scanning for an empty bench. "How'd Council go this afternoon, anyway? I take it you survived?"
Riley accepts the offered cup with a grateful smile and a murmured, "Thanks." Stopping to take a long sip, he muffles a blissful sigh. "Not too bad. Pretty much the same as always. I had to get out my dress togs, wait, wait, look annoyed, wait... Did I mention wait? Then I gave my spiel, got harassed a bit, and then was let free to go change clothing as quickly as I could manage."
Clara gestures at a small table set back sort of in a shadow with view of the street. "How about that?" she suggests, then stifles a small laugh. "Let me guess, you had to do some waiting? Any problems at all?"
Riley nods amiably at the gestured table, indicating you should precede him with a gesture. "Looks good to me." He shakes his head, "Beyond the standard posturing, not really. They're still trying to undercut my power, bring in their own private forces. Declare their spaces Security free zones, stuff like that. So they go on and on about how incompetent I am. I know it's all just politics, I've learned to just nod and pretend I'm paying strict attention."
"While you're really a hundred light years away," Clara notes with a faint smile, heading towards the tiny table and sliding into one of the pair of wire seats at it. "I know that trick, oh yes." She falls quiet to take a long sip from her cup finally, eyeing a pair of chattering Zaeltans passing.
Riley sinks carefully into the other chair, mindful of his size. Wrapping his hands around the foam cup he watches the passerby moving through the poorly lit district with a thoughtful nod. "It can be useful. Keeps me from telling the lot of them in great detail what I think of them." He flashes a grin, "Although I swear, one of these days I might just have to do that."
Clara glances sidelong, amused. "Alert me ahead of time so I can have Medbay ready for all the casualties when that occurs? Probably a plasma bolt in your gut, and a dozen heart attacks amongst the various councilors." Her lips quirk into a grin. "You can handle it. You have been for seven years, right?"
Riley stifles a snicker, sipping at his coffee again. "Yeah, but it's such a delightful fantasy to entertain, eh?"
Clara laughs at that outright, shaking her head. "Right...right up to the point of having you all descend on me in Medbay, boyo. That's okay, I'll pass. Just the thought of passing review under those stuffed shirts by myself is nerve-wracking enough."
Riley sets his cup down on the table a moment, looking thoughtful. "Nerve-wracking I can understand. It drives me half to distraction to do it now, after seven years. The terror never wears off any. But I keep going in there." He offers a grin, "I just figure I've been willing to die for the Alliance all these years, how much are they asking for me to go read a canned speech to some fluffies?"
Clara considers this for a moment, then nods in affable agreement. "You know, you're right? Amazing how this is almost scarier than the business end of a blaster. Almost," she adds, grinning. "Not quite. You're not in trouble, though? From this afternoon, I mean."
Riley toys idly with the edge of the cup, carving designs into it with one fingernail. "Nah, not at all. Nobody was really upset with -me-. They were just spouting words to try and further their position." He nods with a thoughtful grin, "But then finding something worth dying for is always easier than finding something important enough to have to live for. Dying's easy. Living never has been."
Clara glances sidelong, startled at the idea, regarding you for a long moment. "Do you really think that?" she asks, voice softening. "I mean, I understand dying for a cause...or I wouldn't be AF. But surely, I mean...there's people you care about, new things to learn..."
Riley's brows lift almost questioningly before he sorts through his other statement and offers a smile, "I'm in -no- hurry to be offering my life for the good of the body politic, eh? I like being alive. I like the smell of coffee in the morning, and the way the sun winks off the city windows if you're in one of the hidey holes with a balcony. And I like bad noveltapes and good movies and calling home. I like my job and the people I work with. I think all of that's worth living for. But history has proven that it's a lot easier to find people willing to die for a cause than live for one. Suicide bombers are a dime a dozen, powerful statesmen working for peace? You won't find those under just any rock. Folks are out looking for something worth dying for, cause it's easier than finding something worth living for."
Clara tears her gaze away to watch the traffic again impassively, taking a sip of her coffee while thinking this over. "I suppose I don't understand the position of the suicide bomber," she finally admits. "Life is entirely too precious." She drops her head, laughing quietly. "Which sounds stereotypical from someone in my profession, but it's true."
Riley offers a thoughtful grin, nodding. "Stereotypes get that way by having a grain of something to them, like cliches. You just gotta winnow down, eh? And life is precious. Joy, misery, light, dark...nobody can ever accuse people of being -boring- as a group."
"Hey, I'd settle for boring for a while," Clara counters with a grin. "It's enough to know that things don't always have to be sunshine and lightness to be worth doing," she adds, almost absently as she turns her cup in a slow circle on the table.
Riley takes up his cup, taking another pull of its contents. "Everything can't always be sunshine and light. Elsewise there wouldn't be any sunshine n' light. Dark is required for light. And the theory is the darker it is, the brighter the light will be in converse. That's probably bunk I'm afraid, but the theory's sound. Life's not fair, it never has been, and it's never going to be. But the sooner folks accept that and go on with enjoying what they do have..."
Clara leans forward to rest folded arms on the table as she listens, then gives you a sidelong look of faint amusement. "Not so bright security goon?" she quotes, then peers back out at the street again. "You're absolutely right though, and just about echoing what's been driveling through my head for the last few hours. I appreciate it."
Riley goes back to playing with the foam cup, making an intricate design of intertangling knots in the soft surface. "Philosophy and intelligence are not necessarily synonymous, despite the opinions of most philosophers." He offers a sad smile, nodding. "Hey, always glad to yammer."
Clara chuckles, lifting her own mug for a long pull before tilting it absently from side to side on the tabletop. "Hey, there's a wealth of military philosophers. Someone has to figure out the rational for our jobs, yeah?" she offers with a grin, then leans back in her seat, arms stretched out to rest her hands around her mug on the table. "And I appreciate you keeping me occupied," she adds to that last. "It was an...enlightening afternoon."
Riley can't quite help but shudder slightly, "Oh dear lord, military philosophy. I think the one class that bothered me most in OCS, still bothers me to this day, was moral philosophy. To have to actually put -words- to answer why we fought when the powers that be told us to. And then later... Never go in for an Admiralty review, Clara. You'll find things out about yourself you never wanted to know." His brows lift and his tone is gently questioning, "Enlightening?"
Clara clears her throat and stagewhispers, "I'm ground forces. No one's likely to make me an admiral any time soon," in an amused undertone before grinning broadly. "Tell me about it. Four years of the blasted stuff at the Academy," she explains, then falls quiet again. After a few moments of toying with her mug and staring at the street, she very carefully offers, "I spoke with Honalee this afternoon."
"You -never- know, I wouldn't put anything past the AF anymore." Riley's tone is softly teasing, although he stops at the mention of Honalee. Schooling his expression as best he can, he asks, "Did it help any?"
Clara continues to stare at the street traffic, not replying immediately. After a time, she drops her eyes down and nods slowly in answer. Expression intent, she looks up sideways at you solemnly. "I have a lot of things to think about," she explains quietly.
Riley quirks half a smile, "Funny, talking to Honalee seems to have that effect." He regards the cup intently, "But did it help with the about to explode thing? You looked like you were headed for a class four implosion there for a while."
Clara can't help but grin as she looks away again, shaking her head. "I'm beginning to realize that," she agrees amiably, then inclines her head in a slow nod. "I'm not falling to pieces anymore," she offers. "No more explosions. You may have a sort of quiet doctor on your hands for a while, but at least she'll stay all in one piece."
Riley can't quite restrain a relieved sigh. "As long as you'll be all right. Quiet's fine, you bottled up and about to fall over was just -not- good."
Clara chuckles quietly at that, regarding her cup with an air of almost wistful amusement. "What? Even when I dump water on your head?" she teases. "You were right, by the way. I can't believe I just said that. But you were...and it helped me come to a few important conclusions." She hesitates, then notes in her best innocent voice, "Naturally we didn't discuss certain Security Chief's medical leaves..."
For a brief moment, Riley actually -buys- the innocent tone. "Whew, that's a goodness, she'd've given me the riot act for sure, and like as not called Corvil aga..." Cluefulness dawned, "I'm doomed."
Clara is still attempting innocence as she swirls her coffee and takes another sip. "Oh? I can't imagine why," she says sweetly. "She did mention she planned to talk with you..."
There's a thunk as Riley's hand hits his forehead in a classic 'Doh' gesture. "Soooo doomed. If my brother shows up, so help me, in Peesh's name I will go hide where none of you will find me for a week, I swear."
<OOC> Leila has a new favorite quote, "They were the bad guys. And we were the good guys you might say. And they made a -very- satisfying thump when they hit the floor."
Clara bursts into laughter, reaching up to pat your pat your back gently. "You're not doomed," she assured. "Besides, if you hide, either Anya or I can find you, rest assured. I'm sure Anya knows your hidey holes, and I have the most lovely genetic scanner, that if you make me break out and haul around, I'll toss that pitcher of water on you in the middle of the night."
Riley grins, and the accompanying chuckle manages to not be tinged with rue. "Yeah, Anya knows most of them. Call me a thrice damned fool for being crazed enough to show them all to her years and years agone." He takes another swig of his coffee. "Nah, or not. It was a lot of fun at the time, though I think we acquired a lifetime's worth of dust that day." He snickers, "Ack, no, not the ice water. Looking like a drowned mop is one thing. Looking like a just awakened drowned mop is insult on injury."
"It sounds like you had a good time," Clara notes, tone somewhere between pleased and slightly sad. "She's security anyway...she can handle the dust." She glances sidelong with a grin, wrinkling her nose. "You're telling me?" She reaches up to ruffle her own hair. "I -know- what I look like as a newly awakened damp dustmop."
Riley finishes off his coffee, tossing the last of it back as if it were alcoholic. Setting the cup down with great care he offers a chuckle. "Dustmoppery is a noble profession. Besides, you look...right with curls. Very much entirely you. You'd be less you without them."
"Need another one?" Clara offers quietly, then grins at the comment vaguely and holds up a hand before reaching inside her pocket for a thin wallet and rifling through to a very back compartment and tugging out a small flat photo to hand over. On the front is a picture of herself at about fifteen in a Cinderella gown and long straight hair and on the arm of some kid in a tux with big ears. "Curls are easier."
Riley shakes his head, "No, but thanks. What I want's a few shots of rye, but I know better." He takes the picture, regarding it with a broad grin. "Not -quite- the Clara I'm used to, no. What was the occasion?"
"Gin for me, thanks," Clara agrees wistfully. "My debutante ball, actually. I even got to go back to Earth for it. Carlos Lopez," she adds, half grinning over at the picture. "A tenor voice that'd melt a girl's heart. I hear he's still studying voice somewhere in the Antares system."
Riley offers the picture back, brows lift questioningly. "Debutante ball? Those are real still?" He looks rather abashed, "Sorry, I guess that's a stupid question."
Clara slips the picture back to from whence it came and tucks the wallet away, snickering. "Real? Oh, yeah. About as real as venereal disease, and just about as enjoyable." She slips back into her native accent, a dismayingly proper British, and notes, "For proper young ladies of a certain age to make their debut into society." This is followed by a decisively rude and amused noise.
Riley has to stifle a snicker, "That sounds -really- miserable, yes. I read about those in novels, but I didn't know anybody actually still did that. We had formal dances and stuff, but it nobody debuting."
Clara snickers along, taking a minute to finish off the last of her own coffee. "Oh, the dancing part wasn't so bad. I think I'll admit I was pretty glad to get back on the shuttle afterwards, though." She grins over. "I was always jealous of the colonial kids we read about because of that."
Riley looks a little confused, "Jealous because of what?"
Clara pauses, thinking for a moment. "Having normal lives? Without having to look and act perfect all the time?" she attempts to clarify. "Aaah, but I'm not going to gripe about my adolescence." She nudges your arm absently with one elbow. "Some of us even got to wait until we were seventeen before heading off to the service," she teases.
Riley ahhs in understanding, easing back in his chair. "Yeah, excepting when Mom was home, we were a pretty free lot. So were most of the kids I knew growing up. We got our shot at being kids certainly." He chuckles quietly, "Hey, there's nothing wrong with enlisting young. It was a good shot at a university education I coulda' never managed otherwise. Scholarships are few and far between out that far in the belt. The government prefers folks to go the apprenticeship route for a skilled trade, eh?"
Clara shifts in her chair to half face the street and you so as not to keep giving herself whiplash and lifts an arm to rest along the back of the chair. "Apprenticeship?" she repeats, almost surprised. "Okay, now it's my turn to think they didn't have those anymore. Was that something you ever considered?"
Riley stretches his legs out a bit, crossing one ankle over another. "It's pretty common out as far as I'm from. But then we're literally right on the very edge of Alliance space." He shrugs, "Sort of. But they still require engineers to get the degree. That and with Mom... Well, I just always figured for the Navy."
Clara leans her head in her hand thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, it's a good system. We could've used it more on Earth, as far as I'm concerned." She hesitates, then let out a soft laugh. "I just can't imagine you as an engineer. Is that what you did for the Navy at first?"
Riley grins wryly and nods, "Yeah. Until I got picked up by the AF, that was the main of what I did. I doubt there's a Kashidian ship in the fleet I didn't crawl through the guts of. Not that that's saying much, the fleet wasn't that big -before- they downsized it. Some people paint, some people write, I used to think I rebuilt engines. I got handed a shot at trying some other things though and I've not gone back to it entirely since."
"And they decided you had a whole litany of other talents," Clara observes with a faint smile. "Hear hear for all the powers that be." She reaches out with her free hand to idly toy with her empty cup, scooting it from side to side. "I guess it's almost comparable to my job? You rebuilt engines, I used to rebuild people." She smirks for a moment, glancing back. "With some folks, you wonder if there's a difference sometimes."
Roland arrives from the Massive Open Air Pavilion.
Roland meanders casually into the square, glancing at store windows like a good little browser.
Riley nods amiably, pitching his now highly decorated cup into the wire bin. "Pretty much the same thing. Get all the wiring re-rigged, and the hydraulics..." He and Clara are seated at a small table in the shadow of some trees. "Yeah, you have a point on that."
Clara hands over her own cup for similar treatment with a self-deprecating grin. "Do the honors? I have awful aim," she explains. "I just don't think I'd want to see an engine after it's taken a plasma bolt. Lots harder to fix."
Riley takes the foam cup with a grin and a nod, pitching it after his own. "I dunno. See, with an engine you just pitch out the fried parts and add new ones. And they don't scream. Or, from personal experience they don't inform you at length what you can do with that screwdriver if you don't knock them out first. Honalee has a sick sense of humor."
Clara waves a hand at Riley with a faint grin, producing a flash of white lab coat in the shadows as she nods. "See, that's why we knock you out, though. So we don't have to listen to the screaming. I'm not really sure where the screwdriver comes into pl-...oh. Oh, dear." She dissolves into quiet laughter. "Remind me to gas you instantly if you ever need surgery?"
Riley manages a very dry, "I'd appreciate that," before he too starts snickering. "It was a disturbing experience. And for once, I think she'd agree with me." He chuckles, "Engines are simple."
Clara continues to chuckle, tugging at the hem of her coat distractedly. "Please, please tell me Honalee didn't try to do a major patchup on you without anesthetic? You must've done something -really- fluffed to annoy her that bad," she teases.
Riley offers another innocent look, barely visible though it is in the poor lighting. "-Me-, do anything fluffed?" He snickers, "I think she thought me coming in like that was fluffed enough actually. And she didn't actually do it, she just threatened it good. I was a little too gullible at the time and bought the whole thing hook line and sinker. I invented some new phrases I think."
Roland wanders over towards the fountain and settles down on a bench of some sort.
Clara snorts a derisive bolt of laughter, starting to climb to her feet. "C'mon, it's late. Let's start back?" She offers a hand up, grinning. "Now the question is, do I ask you what happened, or do I give into temptation and go digging through your med files, which I have noticed briefly are long and prodigious?"
Riley takes the proffered hand, although he of course hauls himself up on his own power before releasing it again. He's a -lot- bigger than Clara after all. Tucking his hands into his pockets, grinning. "Knife in one side. Argument in the Underground, eh? And I'm -old- remember? My medical files are -supposed- to be huge."
Clara rebuttons her coat and tucks in the chair before slipping her hands into her own pockets and shaking her head as she rolls her eyes and starts back, nodding briefly at anyone she might recognize in passing. "Riiight. I'd say likely it's your profession. My file isn't a fraction so thick, for all that I'm less than a decade younger. Which way? Alleys or Pavilion?"
Riley regards you a moment before gesturing towards the Pavilion. "Above ground. Your uniform, eh? And it's as late as you mentioned." Walking a half step behind so as to compensate for his longer legs he pads along. Offering Roland a wave he murmurs, "Evening DeMario."
Clara glances down at herself, almost surprised, then sheepish. "Hey...uniform. Where'd that come from?" she murmurs, walking along in the appropriate direction and offering a quick grin at Roland as well. "Evening, sir," she murmurs, then peers up at Riley along the way. "Is it really that bad there at night? Niko...wasn't happy when he found out I went down there alone."
"Most of the time?" Riley shakes his head, "Nope, most of the time it's not too bad. But sometimes stuff gets a little crazy down there. Hence having knives pulled out of my gut and all. It's not a great place to go unarmed at certain times of the day."
Clara pulls her hands out of her pockets to display them, beaming innocently. "Oh, but see, I always have arms," she explains with a certain mock-vapidness before stuffing the hands back in her pockets and crossing on up the street. "Don't get anymore knives, okay?" she adds in an undertone.
You head towards the Massive Open Air Pavilion.
Riley arrives from the Java Quarter.
Aliana arrives from the Bonded Guild Courtyard.
Kyara arrives from the Bonded Guild Courtyard.
Aliana heads towards the Central Atrium.
Riley chuckles quietly, the amusement in his eyes more apparent under the more brightly lit Pavilion, "Don't worry, that's right up there on my list of things to avoid."
Kyara gives a merry wave as she runs by. "We went flying! I saw where Niko is!" Can you say 'excited'? Quick as a wink, she dodges through the crowd, getting inside and out of the rain.
Kyara heads towards the Central Atrium.
Clara starts to lean in to nudge affably, grinning. "Fluffheaded goof. You know what I..." Her words cut off at Kyara's pelting through and comment, expression going blank as she stares after the other women for a long moment.
Riley grins down at the nudge, cheerfully amused. Kyara's run by comment smacks into his cheerful mood like a ton of bricks however. After a half second of a broken expression he pulls back up the grin, even if it doesn't quite reach his eyes. His tone is light, "Nick'll be back tomorrow if I've got the schedule right."
"Right. Tomorrow." Clara's tone is somewhat bemused, even confused for a moment before she pushes her hands back into her pockets and glances up hesitantly. "Riley..." she starts, then cuts off, as if the rest of the comment flitters off after Kyara.
Riley stops at the use of his name, the tennis shoes no longer echoing their soft footfalls on the paving stones. "Yeah?"
Clara regards you for a long moment with a curious expression, then sighs and drops her gaze. "Let's go home," she finishes vaguely, and starts up again to pull even.
Riley resumes ambling, keeping pace carefully. "Sounds like a plan to me. It's been a long few days, eh?"
Clara exhales a long sigh and nods, then glances up with a wistful smile. "Some of it's been a lot of fun, though. Now if I can just steal your skates..." She pauses for a long, dramatic moment, "Greggykins," she finally tacks on, then takes off at a dead run, laughter echoing back.
Riley arrives from the Massive Open Air Pavilion.
Roland arrives from the Massive Open Air Pavilion.
Riley comes pelting in after Clara at a ground eating pace, ducking around diplomats and outright leaping -over- a bench. "Wench! Wench! I will -get you- for that!" He's snickering incessantly.
Roland strolls in glancing down at a small pamphlet, but glances up at the raised voices.
"Hah! You'll never catch me!" Clara cries back, using her smaller size to duck through and around startled diplomats with more ease as she pelts for the elevator, still laughing up a storm. "Slowpoke!"
You push the button.
From the elevator, With a ping, the doors slide smoothly open.
Roland shrugs and heads over towards the dining hall.
Roland heads towards the Dining Facility.
You walk into the elevator.
2FLOOR> Riley pushes aside a hatch and steps out of a stairtube from the ground floor.
Clara lets out a rebel yell of triumph as the doors close, rapidly pushing a button and thinking she's safe. Boy she's clueless sometimes.
You push the button marked 2.
The elevator direction light changes to UP with a ping.
The elevator glides almost imperceptibly upward and goes "ping" as it reaches floor #2.
With a ping, the doors slide smoothly open.
You leave the elevator.
Riley is panting a bit, but he's waiting in front of the doors as they open. A towering mass of snickering fluff he offers, "-Now- who's the slowpoke?"
Clara strolls out of the elevator, whistling smugly to herself before the tune cuts off as she comes eyes to chest with a measure of flannel, then pans up...and up...to the fluff beyond. "Uh...?" she manages, then bursts into laughter again and tries to dart to one side.
Riley dives after the darting medic, attempting to get his arms around her and prevent escape. "Oh no you don't..." He's snickering, "Not after -that- travesty of abuse..."
Clara lets out a yelp of mock-dismay, still laughing herself silly as she's caught. "Unhand me, you masher!" she calls out, much to the amusement of the few late night staffers passing by.
"Oh no, not until you apologize for middle name abuse." Riley's tone is amused and his grip firm. "And I am -not- a masher. More of a slight squisher."
Clara struggles fitfully, making her best effort to escape and still laughing helplessly. "Never! I shall never repent! Besides, it's my sworn duty to abuse your middle name, masher Gre-..." Fortunately, she's laughing too hard to get the rest of the word out.
Riley harrumphs in mock indignation, "Repent! Recant your evil ways now oh wench of much evil." By this point what people are in the hall at this hour aren't even bothering to pretend not to stare. Riley bends down and scoops up the struggling medic in arms and heads towards Medbay. "Or I'll throw you into the briar patch!"
You head towards the Medical Bay.
Riley arrives from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
"Please, oh -please- don't throw me in that thar br'ar patch!" Clara cries in a helpless southern damsel voice before dissolving into laughter again and desperately trying not to be dropped on anything sharp or cornered. "I'll never repent! Never! You can torture me all you want, but don't throw me in the briar patch!"
The vision of the Chief Medic behaving such while being toted in by the Chief of Security is enough to garner a look of stunned amazement from Kramer. "Don't drop her too hard, sir," he finally says affably, and goes back to his paperwork.
Riley ambles over to Kramer's desk, squirming medic still in arms, "Hi, can you help me? I think this woman is deranged. First she forgets my name, -then- she makes disparaging remarks about me, which we -all- know Clara would never do... And hear her now? Yelling about briars? I think she needs a lobotomy."
Ryoshia arrives from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Ryoshia walks into medical, all smiles, but she's favoring her right arm a tad. She pauses at the doorway and looks around for someone.
Clara makes a stunned squawk of dismay, struggling all the harder even while holding on for dear life. "A -lobotomy-?" she squeaks. "I am -not- deranged! Evil man...," she snorts, kicking firmly to keep Kramer away, who does indeed stay just out of reach, grinning. "Hey, you caught her, sir, you figure out what to do with her," he decides rationally.
Riley considers this at length, "Oooh, a captured medic. I wonder if the Geneva convention covers this." He nods amiably to Kramer, and still keeping Clara well and truly trapped he heads into her office.
Riley walks towards the Chief Aleron's Office.
Ryoshia blinks a couple times. "Uh, hello?" she offers.
Clara continues to holler threats in between spluttered laughter as she's carried off, leaving Kramer to shake his head and laugh as he comes around the desk to grin at the young woman. "Evening, miss. What seems to be the problem?"
You walk towards the Chief Aleron's Office.
MEDIC> Ryoshia watches Clara get toted off. "Nothing as important as Clara's it seems. Excuse me a second," she says while slipping past the desk and heads in the direction of the office.
Riley pauses to consider the coatrack a moment, addressing his armful, "The -temptation-..." He shakes his head and instead drops you onto the couch, dropping to his knees to go after ticklish spots.
MEDIC> Kramer sidesteps to block the woman's path, still grinning amiably. "She's fine, miss. Our Chief Medic's got a bit of a sense of humor is all. Now...how can I help you?"
MEDIC> Ryoshia raises a brow at the man. "You're not even going to let me see what's going on, are you?"
Clara squirms all the harder, eyes widening at the coatrack in momentary horror. "Oh, you -wouldn't-," she breathes, then dissolves into further laughter at being dumped on the couch, beating ineffectively at your shoulders. "Evil! Evil man! Masher! Greggykins!" The last is broken into drawn out syllables of giggles.
MEDIC> A muffled shriek of soprano laughter can be heard from down the hallway, causing the head nurse to smirk even more broadly. "No, ma'am, I'm sorry. Conference between departmental heads, y'see."
Laughing almost too hard to keep up the torment Riley manages to say between snickers, "Oh, like I'm gonna -stop- if you keep saying that -word-!"
Clara takes advantage of the returned laughter to make an attempt at flannel covered ticklish spots on her own, still giggling helplessly. "That's cause you're evil and deserve it," she manages in between splutters of laughter.
MEDIC> Ryoshia raises both brows now. "I see. Well, I've got a small problem really." She slips past the man and heads over to one of the beds, hopping onto the end. "I pulled my arm today, and think I might have torn a muscle. I'm not a medical expert."
MEDIC> Ignoring the sounds of laughter from down the hall, Kramer simply snags his own scanner and follows, holding out a hand to offer to support the injured arm. "I think we can fix that," he says easily. "Can you bend it still?"
Riley does ack a bit at the returned tickling and snickering backs off at lightning speed. Tugging back the shirt to indicate you were about to tickle his service bolter he continues snickering, "That was almost -bad-."
MEDIC> Ryoshia nods slightly as she glances over towards the office then back at Kramer. She gets that plotting look. "A bit still, yea. It hurts though."
Clara gasps at the sight of the gun, then splutters into more laughter, flopping back and covering her face. "Bad. Very bad. Kramer would kill us both, you know," she decides. "Please don't shoot me, oh mighty Security Chief?"
MEDIC> Kramer follows the glance briefly and takes note of the expression as he starts the scanner moving over the affected area. "Miss, put it out of your head. Unless you want both departmental heads more than a little ticked, I'd stay out here."
Riley has to lean back against the desk, still laughing. "I think I can manage to refrain oh vicious evil medical wench." He has to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve he's laughing so hard. Managing a deep breath he says between snickers, "I think I've laughed more in the past couple days than in seven years here."
MEDIC> Ryoshia frowns slightly. "So much for an entertaining night. I'm stuck with sir serious hair." She looks at the scanner. "So what's the diagnostic Doc?"
Clara manages to swing her feet to the floor and sit up, still snickering as well as she reaches up to check her hair, which is mercilessly straggled now, and shakes her head ruefully before grinning up. "Laughter is the best medicine?" she offers. "You needed to cut loose, then."
MEDIC> Kramer chuckles wryly at the moniker, tucking the scanner in a shirt pocket and reaching for a resonator. "Sprain, actually. It looks like you tugged the muscles between your lower arm bones a little too hard. The resonator should fix you up, though," he explains, starting to run the humming instrument over the area.
Riley is still snickering intermittently and nods. "Yeah, not that I -don't- laugh a fair amount, mind. This's just been sillier than normal."
MEDIC> Ryoshia rests her chin on the palm of her free hand as she waits for the resonator to do its thing.
MEDIC> Kramer finishes with the resonator and clicks it off, waggling it at Ryoshia. "All better, miss. Take it easy with that arm at least until morning, though, okay? Don't want to see you back in for the same thing if possible."
MEDIC> Ryoshia rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes." She glances back over at the office and shakes her head again. "Must be the stress," she mutters as she heads out.
MEDIC> Ryoshia heads towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Clara climbs to her feet to unbutton and tug off her lab coat for placement on the coatrack, then grins back as she heads over to lean against the desk as well. "Silliness isn't a bad thing, Riley," she says quietly, eyes dancing. "It's a break from the usual. And you needed it."
"Ohh, so you're going to try and suggest now that middle name abuse is therapeutic, eh?" Riley snickers some more and leans to poke you in the ribs, "Uh-huh, see me buying that?" He grins, "You need to laugh too ya' know. You're in worse need of a break than me, eh?"
Clara squeaks again, grabbing at the poking hand to save herself and snickering. "Sure it is. And you should buy it...I mean, there's -lots- worse things I could call you," she notes, smirking. "Yeah...I did, I know. Thanks?"
Riley peers as his hand is caught, "Ack, trapped by the likes of an evil doctor. I'm doomed!" He grins, "No problem, thank -you-. And yeah, there are worse things."
Clara raspberries cheerfully and squeezes the captured hand before releasing it. "I'm not evil," she mutters in a mock pout, crossing her arms before a smile gets the best of her. "You feeling better, then?" she asks, almost seriously aside from the lighthearted expression.
Riley nods amiably, still grinning rather goofily. "Yeah, by leaps and bounds. How bout you?"
Clara nods and starts to reply, then crosses her eyes and poofs at a lock of hair that had once been pinned up comes tumbling across her nose. "Much, I think. Being attacked by large and evil men isn't near as frightening as my mother always warned me."
Riley pauses as if considering this at length, "Perhaps I should attack your mother? Demonstrate so to speak, your newfound understanding?"
Clara rolls her eyes and reaches over to poke right back, carefully above the weapon. "No, silly. Mother's on Earth, where she's supposed to be. Unless you -really- want to hop a liner there and attack a woman nearly fifteen years your senior..."
Riley chokes on another snicker, "Maybe next time I'm up for review and am in the neighborhood anyhow. I can knock on her door. 'Pardon? Ms. Aleron? I'm here to attack you. Clara's orders.'"
Clara waves a hand, laughing. "Hey, Kingston's a gorgeous place, and Mother would certainly expect something like that from me," she agrees affably, then sighs, pushing at her curls and smiling wistfully. "You know we have to go upstairs sometime," she notes quietly.
With the geography lack of any born colonial, Riley questions, "Where's Kingston in relation to San Francisco? Anywhere nearby?" He glances at his comm unit and winces slightly at the time. "Yeah, we do. Both of us should've been long since sleeping."
Clara lifts a brow in amusement, then holds up her hands to define North America. "Okay, here's San Fran," she explains, pointing at the west coast. "Down here, just south of this peninsula on the east? That's the Caribbean Islands, and Jamaica's one of them. That's home," she adds with a grin, then pushes away from the desk. "C'mon, we'll at least start that way."
He may not know the names, but he's Navy. Riley does have a mental map. "Ahh, I've been down that way. Weather's amazing. First time I ever saw a hurricane." Reaching an arm up he uses the desk to lever himself to his feet and offers a hand up.
Clara takes the hand to pull herself up, half smiling in remembrance. "Hence, the existence of strong foundations and storm cellars, yeah. I don't much miss the house, but I do miss the island."
Riley grins rather thoughtfully in memory, "I was probably the only one sitting in a hurricane being homesick. It reminded me of Kyri storms, except a lot wetter. Kashid gets these nasty wind storms. Kind of like an electric tornado."
Clara wrinkles her nose in a grin at the idea, and heads for the door, although without reclaiming her hand. "Amazing how even forces of destruction can even make you homesick, hmm? Sailing's what gets me. I miss that."
Riley looks more than a bit thrown at the non hand reclamation, but tags along behind rather sheepishly. "Guess it's sad that I've been in the Navy more than twenty years and have never been honestly sailing in my life. Little boats, and ferries and all, but never a sailboat."
Clara seems rather too tired, distracted, perhaps not even aware of the circumstances, to bother with worrying about the situation, and laughs. "You're deprived then. Next time they haul you to Terra, I can holler at my Mother to set you up to try it?"
You walk towards the Medical Bay.
Riley walks here from the Chief Aleron's Office.
Riley is more than content to continue being tugged along and ambles amiably. "That's okay, somehow I doubt I'll have enough nerve left after a review board to try it. Maybe here sometime, it's easier to get time to take off to the Bakka for a day or so than to Earth anyhow, eh?"
"Gee, I can't imagine why that would be," Clara offers with a quiet laugh. "Earth's only a good week away if you can handle a nasty displacement factor. Bakka? Okay...now I admit to someplace I didn't get as a student. What's it like?"
You head towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Riley arrives from the Medical Bay.
You push the button.
From the elevator, With a ping, the doors slide smoothly open.
You walk into the elevator.
You push the button marked 3.
The doors slide shut, soundlessly.
Tag, tag, tag along. Riley chuckles, "It's pretty. A lot of Linnae's still mostly undeveloped. There's whole stretches of empty coastline. About a half dozen of us went camping on one of those stretches for a couple days last year."
The elevator glides almost imperceptibly upward and goes "ping" as it reaches floor #3.
With a ping, the doors slide smoothly open.
You leave the elevator.
Riley has arrived.
Leading without much thought, Clara gasps in mock astonishment. "They let you take a vacation?" she says in wonder, then grins somewhat sleepily, stopping in the lobby. "It was likely good for you. You should drag the same group out this year, if you get a chance."
Riley mutters something sheepish about mandatory medical leave, "I dunno if anybody's making plans this year. One of them moved, and uh, Hishi had to take a medical discharge." He stops as well, which since you still have his hand, or does he have yours, is unsurprising. "You look wiped, eh? Get some sleep?"
Clara rolls her eyes and tilts her head warningly, starting to say something about medical leave and shake a finger at you before blinking down at her hand and abruptly letting go. "Mandatory leave's always a good thing," she says after a moment, then takes a deep breath and smiles up. "Thanks for keeping me company tonight."
Riley peers at the released hand a brief moment before tucking both hands in his pockets. It takes him several beats but he does look up enough to meet your gaze. He offers a smile that's all at once delighted and very sad. "Thank you for letting me tag along with you all night. It was a riot, eh?"
Clara tilts her head, a fair measure of echoing expression there as well as she gives a small nod. "Yeah...yeah it was," she agrees, lacing her fingers behind her back. "Well. Goodnight, then." She doesn't offer another similar evening, though, and turns to head down the hall, then pauses and looks back. "Riley...?"
Riley hasn't yet budged a notch. He had by no means expected, or even hoped for, the suggestion of another night. For tonight we sing, and tomorrow we may die as the old man said. Riley's heard this song before, and knows Niko's coming back tomorrow and the footmen turn back into mice. "Yeah?" His reply is quiet, but manages to carry.
Clara stares for a long moment, even taking another step back before a certain Edreeni's words echo mentally, and she falters. "Sleep well..." is all she gets out, then spins around and nearly pelts for her room, although all that's left behind is a footprint, not a whole combat boot. That would just be scary.
You unlock the door and go into room F20.
3FLOOR> Riley just stands there for a minute and then another, silently regarding his tennis shoes in the soft silence. Finally, despite the fact that Clara is long gone he offers a soft, "You too." Turning he moves with careful steps down his own hall.
3FLOOR> Riley unlocks the door to room I16 and goes inside.