One Meets the Most Interesting Folks on the Playground...
9-2-99
You walk towards the Hill Overlooking the Quarter.
Hill Overlooking the Quarter
As may be implied, this hill overlooks the Java Quarter. As it's a fairly long hill, somewhat steep in places, it may be accessed by any number of stairways and ramps and paths worn in the grass.
The plateau atop the hill seems to have been preserved as some sort of public park, as trees abound, flowers are meticulously planted in neat and fussy arrangements, and cobblestone-free walkways lead to several different areas. In one, a particularly flat area has been paved for various forms of skating, and is much in use. In another, tables with checkerboard tops have been bolted to the ground--so they won't go for a walk, of course. Along the center of the plateau, surrounded by another of those fussy flower-arrangements, a long reflecting pool holds the reversed-image of the Complex. Of course, as several families of ducks have taken up residence in said pool, the image is often distorted, but isn't that the way it should be? On the opposite side of the pool from the skating area, a brightly-colored playground beckons to children of all ages, shapes, and sizes. At the end of the pool, facing the Complex, is a massive sculpture. And, as the makers of the park realize that children have needs that sometimes strike suddenly, restrooms and water fountains are available at the far end of the plateau.
To set your room doing, try 'I'm <doing>'. +view is available.
Contents:
Tara, at the top of the hill.
Log Flume Ride
Obvious Exits:
Java Quarter
You set Greer down gently.
Josif has arrived.
Josif was here. Really. His player had this mental image, see, of a scene opening. He's actually seated at the top of the jungle-gym--and getting the occasional odd look from small children nearby--and juggling. It's very simple juggling, mind, only three balls, but he seems amused to be making a specacle of himself.
This is not a man who is easily overlooked. If nothing else, his height, which is only a few inches shy of eight feet, would call attention to him. He is, yes, very obviously Edreeni, and, from the look of him, fully so, without any other racial combinations. Of course, the main reason that one might notice Josif is his straight, fine hair, which falls wavelike to a point just past his shoulders. 'Wavelike' is a particularly appropriate word, as his hair is a brilliant blue in color. As his eyebrows and eyelashes are a blond that mingles silver and gold, one might assume that his hair has been dyed. His hair, though, at least brings out the blue in his eyes, which are a whirl of blue and gray and silver. He is not quite so painfully thin as some Edreeni, though he'll never be called anything but wiry or lean. Despite his height, he moves with the grace typical of an Edreeni, body obeying him without any trace of hesitation. One might think that he should have a deep voice, so when he speaks, the tenor, bell-like sound is often startling. Not unlike the notes of a cello, deftly played, his voice is a delight to hear, which is convenient, as he is not especially handsome. Though his Standard is flawless, there is a trace of an accent--that of Kashid, if one would know to place it. He looks to be in his thirties, but age can be such a difficult thing to determine in Edreeni, so this could be deceptive.
Josif wears decidedly practical clothing. His pants are of a finely-woven fabric, but look to be of the drawstring design, as if the place where he purchased them did not cater to the particular body-shape of the Edreeni. Their color is dark blue, but there the soberness stops. His shoes--which cover, as is likely not surprising, particularly massive feet--are burnt orange, with a swooshlike design in navy-blue on the outer side of each. His shirt's sleeves fall to his elbows, revealing his tautly-muscled forearms and his surprisingly agile hands. The shirt itself, though, seems designed to catch the eye, if, in fact, it was designed, rather than created by a demented toddler with an airbrush and a disturbing array of colors. Just about every color, in fact, may be found on this shirt, in no distinguishable pattern. Take tie dye and cube it, and you will perhaps have the beginnings of an idea. There is text on the shirt, in black, but it's a particularly obscure script, so it's unlikely to be understood.
Greer seems to be rapidly exploring the playground, checking out the various items for climbing and such. and she can't help but notice the... strange?... man perched on the jungle gym, even if she does give him a curious look. "Tarrant...?" She glances over her shoulder, and Tara, who's been trailing after her, shakes her head. "Not Tarrant. Tarrant's hair isn't blue."
Josif is at enough of a distance that he can't hear the conversation. Besides, he's used to people looking oddly at him. And, though he doesn't know Tarrant, if he did he would mention that Tarrant isn't Edreeni, and he is. That, and he's just a bit bigger than Tarrant. Of course, a bird takes this moment to take a kamikaze dive towards him, and, in ducking to save his head, he loses one of the balls, and it tumbles towards the pair. There's a pause, and a sigh, and he starts his way down the jungle gym.
Greer steps forward a few feet to pick up the ball, tossing it lightly, experimentally, in her hand before she holds it out to the man. "How'd you do that?" Narrowing her eyes only slightly, Tara takes a seat on a swing, idly swinging a little as she watches.
Josif finally extracts himself from the jungle gym and heads over to the small child. Yes, he's very tall. He bends down, though, so that he doesn't tower quite so much. "How'd I do what?" he inquires, with an engaging grin. "Drop the ball? It wasn't intentional, promise." He casts a vaguely reassuring smile to Tara, then. No, he won't do horrible things to Greer. He just wants his ball back, please?
Greer tosses the ball toward him. "No, that..." She makes juggling motions.
Josif folds neatly to a seat on the ground, catching the ball with a nod of thanks, and then sending it into that same simple pattern, wiht the other two. "This? There's a book, Juggling for Dummies. It helped. Took me a while to learn, though, but it was a good distraction from studying."
Greer nods, fascinated eyes fastened on the balls. "Yes, that." She gives him a curious look. "Studying? Why would you want a distraction from that?"
Josif grins as he lets the balls fall neatly into his hands. He can't quite converse and juggle at the same time. "Because studying all the time isn't for me. Besides, if I put off the studying till the very end, when I was in school, I studied all the harder for it."
Greer considers that for a moment, then nods. "It seems kind of sloppy though. No offense!" She gives him another curious look, then bobs a curtsey. "My name is Greer. Greer Valentine. Why's your hair blue?"
Josif says wisely, "That's because it -is- kind of sloppy, and no offense taken." He, though still seated, offers an Edreeni bow. "I'm pleased to meet you, Greer Valentine. I'm Josif Er'dan. And my hair's blue because I got sick of it being purple."
Tara's eyebrows arch. "You aren't, perchance," she calls, sounding amused, "Another Addison relative, are you?"
"Purple." Greer blinks, then says hastily, "It's very nice to meet you, Josif Er'dan. You -made- your hair blue? It wasn't a curse, or a mean ole witch, or something like that?" Guess who found the fairy tales section of the library.
Josif all but blanches at Tara's question. "No, ma'am, I can say that I'm definitely not related to Admiral Addison." He grins at Greer, then. "I made my hair blue, yes. I like having bright hair. It's been red in the past, and yellow, and green, and purple, and orange. Never pink, though," he adds thoughtfully. "I might have to try pink, if I can find the right shade."
Tara's eyebrows rise even further at that reaction, and she gets off the swing to move closer. "But you apparently know him. And I'm not a ma'am," she smiles. "Tara Valentine, at your service."
"My mama," Greer clarifies absently, eyes widening a little. "What about two colors? There's this pink that goes really well with light blue."
Josif nods pleasantly to Tara, with another of those bows, though he remains seated. He doesn't like towering over small children, see. That generally makes them more likely to flee. "Pleased to meet you, Tara Valentine, Greer's mama. And I have met the Admiral, yes." He considers Greer's question for a moment. "I've never done two colors at once," he says finally. "See, that takes too long, getting patterns right and such. And I'm not a very patient person."
Tara settles down on the ground herself, drawing Greer into her lap. "Met him... and you don't like him, Mr. Er'dan?" She keeps her voice conversationally pleasant. "Now, see, you need to have your hair done, rather than doing it yourself." She's female; she automatically knows these things.
"Pink and blue," Greer says firmly. "When you get tired of -that- blue. Or you could put in the pink now, to go with that. Mama," she tips her head back to look up at her mother, "Can I have blue hair?"
Tara's expression indicates her low opinion of that idea.
Josif shakes his head quickly. "I didn't say that I don't like him. I have the utmost respect for the Admiral." His machoness will not let him admit to fear, see. "And getting my hair done would take all the fun out of doing it myself." He just sticks his head in a bowl of dye. It's very frightening. He flashes a grin towards Greer, then. "I'm not sure how long it will take for me to get sick of this. And you should definitely listen to your mama about your hair. I didn't, and I got in a -lot- of trouble."
Tara snorts softly, but refrains from comment for the moment.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to get in trouble," Greer remarks solemnly. "But your hair -is- very pretty. Why didn't you listen to -your- mama?"
Josif considers that for a long moment. "I thought she was being silly," he says finally. "And I thought I was old enough to make my own decisions. She disagreed," he adds, with a rueful grin. "So I had to wait a few years before I did it again." He casts an innocent look towards Tara. Hey, he's trying to help.
Greer lounges back against her mother's chest with a grin. "Mama and I never disagree."
"The books," Tara smiles down at her.
"Oh. Well, okay, sometimes we disagree," Greer allows. "But I never do anything she says not to do. Not anymore. Doctor Clara says I should listen to her, cause she's been around a lot longer."
Tara rolls her eyes, amused. "Make me feel old, why don't ya." She glances up to cast a quick grin toward Josif. "Sort of the semi-rebellious type then?"
Josif tips a thin hand back and forth at the question. "Somewhat. Mostly," he adds, with a grin, "I just like attracting attention." Hey, at least he's honest about it. "Besides, this way my hair matches my shirt. It's a fashion statement. Mother has no sense of style." No, he's not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. "And listening to your mother's a good idea, chernubia," he adds, to Greer. "Doctor Clara's right. She's a smart lady, far as I can tell."
Tara chuckles, shaking her head. "If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Er'dan, what business are you in besides avoiding studying?" She gives him a faint smile for the listening to your mother comment.
Greer's eyes widen. "You know Doctor Clara? She really -does- know everybody!" She beams at the man's assessment. "Doctor Clara's the smartest person in the -whole- Complex. She's a xenobiologist, you know." She pauses, and says very carefully in response to the endearment, "Palesci modassa?" Books are -not- the best language teachers, granted.
Though the accent may not be the best, that Greer ventures the words at all apparently rather floors Josif. He manages the appropriate response after a moment, then adding in Standard, "I have met her, yes. A friend of mine claims her as kin. And, yes, I have heard that she's a xenobiologist." He peers curiously at Tara, then suggests, "Would you call me Josif? And I've been teaching Standard on non-Alliance worlds until recently."
Greer beams. She's also curious, and has all the tact of any six-year-old child. "She doesn't have very many kin. Who's your friend?" Curious about that herself,
Tara holds off on correcting her daughter's manners. "Josif, then," she smiles, then she blinks. "Non-Alliance worlds? My, you -are- adventurous, aren't you."
Josif lifts his admittedly massive shoulders in a surprisingly graceful shrug. "That's where the need is. There are non-Alliance worlds that are perfectly respectable." With a quizzical grin to the child, he supplies, "Corian Tre--er, Czolgosz. We went to school together. I was hoping to catch her here, but it seems that she's offworld."
Greer blinks. "Oh! That makes sense. Are you a linguist too, then?"
Tara nods slowly, comprehension settling in. "Yeah, I'd heard she was off an another trip. Always returns though. She'll be back before long." She laughs a little. "The perfectly respectable ones are rather difficult to find, however."
Josif inclines his head in a gesture that's half a bow. "I am that, yes," he replies to Greer. "Though," he adds, in a stagewhisper, "Corian's much better than I am. But don't tell her I said that, or she'll have to be modest." He tilts his head to grin at Tara. "True. But the others aren't so bad, either."
Greer giggles. "Corian is -always- modest."
"Too modest, even." Yes, Tara's somewhat amused, and she returns his grin, her expression somewhat quizzical. "It depends on what you're looking for, as far as planets go, I guess."
Josif extends a hand in a grand gesture. "To seek out new life and new civilizations," he intones. "To boldly go... er, wait. No, that's someone else. And I've stopped that," he adds to Tara. "At least for a time." Greer gets an amused grin. "Isn't she? Silly of her, to deny her gifts."
Tara's eyebrows rise. "So what brought you to Linnae then, Josif?"
Greer nods her agreement. "It's okay though. Everybody else -knows- Corian's the best. And they don't have to be modest about her."
Josif smiles at Tara, saying simply, "Corian. Haven't seen her in a while." He nods a firm agreement to Greer. "Exactly. And since she's not here to turn funny colors, we can sing her praises all we like, yes?"
Tara chuckles. "That's quite a trip just to see an old friend. You won't be staying long then?"
Greer's eyes widen. "Yes, but... you'd color -her- too? I'm not sure if she'd look good blue."
Josif ducks his head a bit, looking rather comically sheepish. "Quite a trip, but she's worth it. I probably won't be here long, though, no. Hopefully, I'll be here long enough to see her." He blinks at Greer's words, and then laughs, shaking his head. "I wouldn't color her, not unless she wished it, and probably not even then. She's fine as she is. No, I meant that she'd probably blush."
Curiouser and curiouser. "Oh, I'm sure she is," Tara responds smoothly. "She is a very good, dependable friend."
"Oh!" Yes, Greer says that a lot. "Do you really think she would? I'll have to test that theory sometime."
Josif looks between the women. "I take it you two know her? Could you tell me how she's doing, then?" He ponders Greer's words, a hint of mischief in his silvery-blue eyes. "Yes, you certainly should do that."
Tara mmms, "Last I saw her she seemed fine. That was... a couple of weeks ago, perhaps? You know she's married now, obviously. She seems quite happy in that. Oh yes, I know her from way back." She grins, just a little evilly.
Greer's eyes twinkle in turn. "Oh, I will. I won't forget. I never forget anything." She nods. "Corian's going to help me learn different languages. She's a very nice lady. And she likes kids, I think."
Josif pauses a beat at that hint of evil in the grin. "From way back?" he inquires, a bit nonplussed. "And, yes, I know that she's married--found out recently, that is. I wish I'd known earlier. It's kind of hard to track down a person if you're using the wrong name, after all." Gaze shifting down to Greer, he inquires, with a smile, "She's going to be your teacher? You're very lucky. Corian's an excellent teacher. And she -is- a very nice lady, and she likes kids, very much. You'll have fun with her, I'm sure."
Tara chuckles, tilting her head slightly as she thinks back. "Let's see... I met Corian about... a year and a half ago, almost two years, maybe. She was intriguing." She laughs a little, not unsympathically. "Indeed it is. You're lucky she decided to stay here instead of moving on, or you'd probably still be looking for her."
Greer nods vigorously, grinning. "Corian's great. So's Tarrant. She never ever yells either." This is a very important fact, even if it's based on limited information.
Josif shakes his head, the gesture sending waves through his blue hair. Don't get seasick, anybody. "Intriguing. There's a good word for her. And I'm very lucky to have found where she's supposed to be, at least. Even if she's not here." He nods to Greer, then. "Never," he agrees, just a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Even if you do something she doesn't like, she doesn't yell. But she's got sharp elbows."
Greer blinks. "How do you know that?" Tara, too, gives Josif a curious look for that remark as she responds absently, "Corian is unique in that, if she judges people, she doesn't let them know it."
Josif leans his elbows on his folded legs, leaning forward. "Corian," he says solemnly, "Studied too much when she was in school. So I had to help her not study sometimes. She didn't always want my help, though." Hello, understatement. He nods to Tara, then. "She's good at that, yes. Always has been, long as I've known her."
Tara chuckles. "She does seem the independent type. One reason I was surprised when I heard about her marriage."
Grownup talk. Greer nods, and pushes herself to her feet. "That was very nice of you," she beams at Josif. "She helps everybody else so much, she should get help sometimes herself." The girl wanders off toward the swings.
Josif lifts a hand to wave after Greer, then nods. "I was kind of surprised, too," he admits. "But Doctor Aleron said that he's a good man. As long as she's happy, that's what really matters." And if she's not happy, well, then, Josif will just have to do his best to make a pretzel out of whatever isn't making her happy.
Tara grins. "Tarrant Czolgosz is... Well, he'd seem to be her antithesis. He's rather childlike, though not immature, exactly, and he has a certain love of life. He likes fun, where Corian is so concerned with her work. But, yes, she does seem to be quite happy with him." Eyebrows rise a little. "Ah, so you've met the good doctor, have you."
Josif considers for a moment, an expression on his face that is not quite a smile. "As long as she's happy," he reiterates. "And I met her earlier today, yes. Some kind soul sent me to her in fulfilment of my Quest to Find Corian. I left a message for Corian with her, though, so all was not lost."
Tara nods firmly. "Clara does seem to keep track of her well. At least, she always seems to know when Corian's on the planet or not." She leans forward a little, peering at him. Hmmm. "You weren't exactly happy to find out she went and got married, were you?" she inquires delicately.
Josif is again quiet a moment before he answers. "Not really," he replies candidly. "But, hey, now I can be Corian's weird friend, and randomly scandalize her and her husband, now that she's gone respectable."
Tara smiles, again, not unsympathetic. "Being a weird friend has its advantages," she agrees, then chuckles. "Although somehow, I can't picture Cori as ever -not- being respectable. One never knows what the future might hold, though."
Josif inclines his head. "Point taken," he says, with a grin. "I've never seen her be anything less than respectable, but, hey, she's full of surprises." He pushes a blue lock out of his eyes, expression thoughtful.
Tara's eyebrows rise. "You think so? Actually, she seems quite predictable to me." She cocks her head. "Giro for your thoughts?"
Josif grins wryly. "Well, predictable in that she won't mention things. Like... did you know she's a -duchess-?" He still seems floored by this. "Admittedly, it's on a backwater little planet, but it surprised me no end. I can't wait to get the story of how -that- happened out of her. 'Your grace,' how disturbingly appropriate."
Tara blinks. Twice. "A duchess? Good heavens..." She shakes her head, then snickers. "Indeed. She is rather graceful, isn't she. Doesn't surprise me that she didn't mention it either. I know you said you tracked her down, but discovering something like -that-... quite dedicated to your quest, aren't you."
Josif shakes his head. Looking just a bit amused, he says, "I just ended up on the same backwater planet, that's all. There haven't been many Edreeni there, and someone mentioned her. I have to say, I all but fell out of my chair."
Tara grins. "I bet. For all that she's quiet and unassuming and modest, she does seem to have quite an effect on people. As much as the initial thought is a surprise, she'd be just the type of person to get made nobility, I think."
Josif nods a firm agreement to that. "She seems that kind of person, yes. I just wish that I'd been able to find out -how-. Fortunately, I found this out not long before I ended up here, so I haven't been stewing impatiently for very long."
Tara chuckles. "Fortunately? And what happens when you've been stewing for too long?"
Josif considers that. "Uh, I don't know? I hope it doesn't happen, that Corian gets home soon. Then I won't have to find out."
Tara's mouth quirks. "Oh, she'll be home soon enough, I'm sure. And in the meantime, there's plenty around here to fill one's attention span. It -is- the seat of the Alliance, after all."
Josif grins at that. "Like the gryphons," he agrees. "Amazing creatures. Neat language. In fact," he adds, with a pause, "Would you have a chrono on you? I'm supposed to meet with one of them, but my chrono decided that it wanted to stay in my quarters today."
Tara cocks an eyebrow. "Gryphons? I haven't met any of them. The dragons are neat though. I know at least one Bonded I can introduce you to if you'd like." At the inquiry, she glances toward her wristunit, and nods. "It's twenty-one thirty hours, local time."
Josif considers for a moment, lips moving briefly. "That would mean," he says finally, "That I'm late." He's not hasty about getting to his feet, though, or about offering a bow. "Would you excuse me, please? I generally try not to be late to a meeting with people with sharp talons."
Tara chuckles, offering a wave. "Of course. With luck, we'll have the opportunity to chat again." Catching the movement, Greer waves at the apex of her arc as she swings high, calling, "It was nice meeting you!"
Josif lifts a hand to the child. "And you as well, chernubia. And nice to meet you, too, Ms. Valentine. Enjoy your evening." And with that, he heads off, at a slow, deceptively ground-eating pace.
