Characters involved are: Amaliel (RED), Brin (ORANGE), Citan (GREEN),
Logged by Unknown

---

Citan (OOC) fixes the STrange to Strange.
Citan (OOC) reprograms Cliste.
Citan (OOC) asks, "Would you like to join us, Brin?"
Brin (OOC) says, "Okay. For a while. If that is fine with Amal."
At the main worktable, Amal himself is pouring over a medical tomb that is easily five inches thick of poorly scribbled jargon. His aides are buisy in much the same situation in the libraries of the castle, but he figured that he had spare time, why not lend a hand? And besides, he was used to menial tasks really, and the doing of them comforted. It made it feel more like his effort than his order. He turns the page again, and tucks one leg up under him, chin in palm as he studies the birth records with only mild interest. They /are/ sort of fascinating, but not engrossing in the least. He is only looking for the records of /one/ birth. And there is quite a haystack to search. He sits up, stretches, and then slouches back down to scan as he pulls his ponytail tight.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "Of course! You're always welcome, Brin. :)"
Brin (OOC) poses, then?
Citan (OOC) nods.
The evening begins over the fatima castle, and work for tohe day, at least officially, is almost done. It remains only to place the finishing touches to the courtyard, and see how they were doing in the basement. Brin slowly descends the steps into the courtyard, the sun making him squint as he emerges onto the festive square. Ah. Well, um, this is not what he meant. "Oh hello, Amal.", he says, spotting the prime minister poring over something. He manages a smile, and remarks, "Well, when you offered to help search the records, I didn't exactly mean...you know...", he indicates the musty tome, and the smaile remains. Still, he might have guessed Amaliel might take a more hands-on approach. It was his way, perhaps. He leans agains the table beside Amaliel, and regards the page he is studying. "Any luck so far?".
You will not receive Public messages.
Is he interrupting? Citan pauses near the entrance to observe the busy work already present in the courtyard. This time last year, this square would be filled with guards and paranoia. Now? Apparently actual -work- being done on the kingdom, clerks instead of executions. It was a good sign. The Guardian begins to head towards the pair, mentally reminding himself halfway there to speak the -Ignas- tongue, to drop the aloof airs that went along with Solarian offices these days. He waits until he is almost at the table before he intrudes with a soft, "Good afternoon." Whether that was true or not was entirely in debate, but it did seem rather nice to be out and about these days. Hopefully neither of them would find the cut of his jacket--slightly less neutral than the diplomatic Pax Jasper styles these days--to be at all disturbing, not when so many people were changing clothes as quickly as lifestyles.
He smiles up at Brin, then leans back and turns the record so that he can see them better. The handwriting is that indescribable doctor scribble, but somehow he's managing to process - or decode it. "Not personally, but I can't read it terribly quick, so my aides may be doing better than I." He waves a hand at the mentioning of his own involvement, his gaze rising to the figure crossing the courtyard before he himself rises to greet the former water eliment whole heartedly, offering a steep incline of his head from respect, and a smile from genuine welcome. "Good afternoon," he pauses, and with a glance to Brin, leaves off the title he would usually use to adress Citan, unsure of how exactly he wanted to be called in this circumstance. "Welcome! Here to make sure things are proceeding well?"
Citan (OOC) chooses Drug #3 tonight, Celebrex. Makes stomach bleed: Yes. Possibly not as much as Motrin, but possibly more an effect than Codine.
Citan (OOC) finds it disturbing that he is resorting to Motrin rather than Codine to kill pain.
Citan (OOC) assumes Amaliel is experienced at reading Doctor Scribble from reading Luka's memos...
Amaliel (OOC) says, "That's how he can manage."
Amaliel (OOC) says, "'Dear Amal, please run to the store and pick up some...... Cheese? Cookies...? Celery?.....'"
Amaliel (OOC) :comes back with all three to make sure.
Only to find out! The note had said 'please pick up some Coffee!'
Citan (OOC) is amazed he deciphered the C. Luka's handwriting is awful, all those lines and circles and ritual markings...
Brin nods at Amaliel's comments. "Yes, it all loooks a little cryptic, doesn't it? I had the same problem". The long hours staring puzzledly at the records he had perused in the basement cause him to wince, ever so slightly now. But, he is now distracted otherwise, following Amaliel's gaze as he spots the apparition from several months before. Well, this is a bit different. "Citan! Well, this is a surprise." A slight pause, partly from surprise, and partly to regard the all-new wardrobe 'Citan' now sports, even if it is only all-new from his perspective.
Brin (OOC) kicks the pose.
Citan (OOC) saves it.
A faint smile of gratitude for Amaliel's lack of title and even of name. The Guardian himself had enough problems with his own identity these days, and though he knows that the Prime Minister is in the know of certain matters, still it rewarding to see that he needs not spread them everywhere. Certainly not in the middle of the Fatima Courtyard. "I am," he replies pleasantly, voice low as if having just woken up from sleep and still vulnerable, eyes the same. He explains this in a moment with the wave of his hand as he follows Amaliel back to the table. "I had to sneak away from Khiea for now to make sure this could still be a surprise. How are tihngs to be? And it is wonderful to see you again, Brin," Citan adds as he is hailed. "It has been some time. I would have come sooner, but the affairs in Jasper needed more work."
Citan (OOC) asks, "tihngs = things. Why is my spelling so loose these days?"
Citan (OOC) blames Khiea, who is illiterate.
Brin (OOC) tends to ignore typos. It prevents hair-pulling.
Brin (OOC) ignores them too much, actually ^^.
Citan (OOC) looks innocent as he speaks of el diablo.
Waiting until they both take a seat, Amaliel finally sits as well, before directing most of Citan's comments to Brin. "Everything here is Brin's work. I'm afraid I can't take any credit for the decoration, and I feel bad for my lack of attention until recently." He nods to Brin in apology - but he'd been buisy with practices for a certain musical producton. "I'm glad you could get away to join us, It's been too long since you've visited." Amal suddenly realizes something, and stands. "Is there anything I can fetch for either of you? You must be thirsty, Citan."
Brin would not hear of it. The memory of how utterly mortified he had felt when he found that the empress of solaris had _washed his robe_ still makes him cringe when he remembers it. No matter how down-to-earth either Luka or Amal might be, he still feels a certain guilt when they offer to do menial tasks. Put it down to his training, perhaps. Still. "No, I couldn't trouble you, Amal", he insists, sitting back against the table where he was, and blushing a little. "Well, she and Luka asked so nicely, I can but try. I suppose I could not fob credit off onto the workers?", he smiles, as perhaps two, ro three casual labourers are pointed out, as they put the finising touches to the courtyard. "How go things in Jasper? Still in one piece, I hope?". He could hope as much. When he left it, it was anything but hostile.
Citan (OOC) says, "Oh, that's right... the robewashing. ^^"
Brin (OOC) grins, and cringes. Ixnay on the aundrylay of ukalay!
Amaliel (OOC) giggles.
"It is... surprisingly peaceful," the Guardian finds himself answering, seeking a chair to rest himself in. That was the problem when he was in this sort of state--limited in energy, willingly seperating himself from half of his resources and information, holding back even Nightmare rather than letting it fill him. "Coffee, if there is any," he responds to Amaliel. Citan has no problems whatsoever in interacting with anyone for such things--he has made it for people in the past and has had it made for him. "The courtyard is..." Citan pauses to look around, "Very pleasing to Khiea's tastes, I know it will be. I wonder if any green could be added?" he tags on, somewhat wistfully. "Regardless of who has done the actual details, I would like to thank everyone here for your work on this subject," Citan continues, unfolding the diction of his words with the same patience of one letting his normally rapid conversation go at its own pace. "It is... quite important to Khiea that she knows she is accepted, and t
.."It is... quite important to Khiea that she knows she is accepted, and this sort of haven is simply astounding. Thank you, very much."
Citan (OOC) thinks back to what else Luka has done with or for or about Brin....
Citan (OOC) asks, "Didn't she sew it too?"
Brin (OOC) doesn't think so. It was just very, very bloodstained.
Citan (OOC) must have Luka give Brin a red robe next time for Deusmas. Or a set.
Brin (OOC) laughs, and gives Luka a coffee-coloured uniform.
Citan (OOC) acks.
Brin (OOC) says, "Well, they're both for covering up nasty spillages ^^."
With a nod in Citan's direction, Amal goes to fetch the caraffe from the kitchen, steps light and silent on the stone walks - maybe for the fact, that if anyone looked he wasn't really wearing shoes so much as sole-less slippers. He dissapears into the open doorways that lead onto the courtyard, only to return fairly minutes later with an insulated caraffe and three cups, as well as all the necessities - cream, sugar, mints, and a tray of light biscuits. Well, fast, efficient... Or perhaps just always prepared, he sets it on the table and pauses. "Please excuse this..." And produces three well pressed and clean cloth napkins from his back pocket. "I didn't want to chance slopping coffee on them."
Citan (OOC) makes Brin into a Prophet for Metty.
Brin (OOC) wonders is he has a choice ^^.
Citan (OOC) says, "Hmm.......................... that or a parable."
Oh, all right. If it was already fetched for him, then who is Brin to argue? "Thank you, Amal", he smiles, and turns to Citan. "Green, do you think? I didn't know it was a favourite of hers? Still, I can't claim to know her that well, actually.". He stares around the courtyard, picturing where some green could go, and not spoil the effect. "Yeeees...yes, I'll see to it.". He nods, and stares up beyond the walls to the clouds. "Khiea's a lucky girl to have so many people care about her. I can only hope this can reinforce that for her.". Yes, the girl in the crowd, where everyone knows her name, and she is alone. If it gives her happiness for at least one day, it will be worth it.
Well... technically, the princess favored pink more than green. Er. But Citan remains silent to any ideas that having a -little- bit would not improve the color? He only coughs politely, smile faint upon his features as he gives an understanding nod to Amaliel and takes his cup and napkin. A consideration is given to what else is on the table, and he flickers a glance over the tangled knotwork that pretends to be writing. Not so hard for him either. "She has not had it for some time... the experience is heady for her. I would ask," he adds softly, not looking up from the book, "that if it would be at all possible to keep her birth mother far away... in fact, the further the better," say, a dungeon cell, "then I would be highly appriciative. Best that no mention is made of her at all, you see." He reaches for a spoon and stirs in the sugar, blowing lightly on his cup before the first sip.
Brin (OOC) has sylvi turn up, nicely off her trolley.
Citan (OOC) plans to ask Amaliel to kill Sylvi.
Citan (OOC) says, "Or have her otherwise removed."
Citan (OOC) would do it himself, if.... hmmm.
Having not even given a thought to the idea, Amaliel settles into his seat, but doens't question. "I hadn't thought to have her birth mother... but rather to discover her birthdate?" He exchanges glances with Brin for confirmation, and then settles to take his own cup, carefully pouring for each of them, yet still leaving enough room in Brin and Citan's cup for cream and sugar. His own he fills to the brim, and takes black. He lets the sleight smile at Citan's mention of green fade from his face, and settles back. "Everyone likes to feel needed from time to time. Especially if they cannot get the emotion where they are supposed to at base." He means the parents. Hmm. Is that experience talking?
Amaliel (OOC) says, "Amal would gladly remove her from the equation if asked."
Brin (OOC) has her Hit on Amaliel, too.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "He'd DESTROY Her for that."
Citan (OOC) listens to Sea of Sin come up on Winamp.
Brin (OOC) says, "A rather macabre birthday present ^^"
Citan (OOC) says, "It would be satisfying though..."
Brin (OOC) grins. 'Remove' away, then ^^.
Citan (OOC) plots.
Citan (OOC) gets Khiea's agreement, somewhat...
Amaliel (OOC) says, "Not that he's gay or anything... 9.9"
Citan (OOC) stabs Sylvi and leaves her out to the desert to die. Watches her find Senchei's nomads and get Religion.
Amaliel (OOC) Idly polearms her to death.
Brin raises an eyebrow at this. "Um, of course. May I ask why? Or should it be obvious?". He trusts Citan's judgement on this, but is more then a little curious. "I cn't garuantee the casual workers from the town will not tell, since I could not have known. The event has not been exactly publicised, either". Still, a guard on the gate, perhaps? Brin wonders what the reaction might be if someone so well-known as Sylvina were to be denied entry. Still, it is Khiea's wish, probably. "Yes, finding the actual data is proving something of a challenge, since the Castle records were not computerised, for some bizarre reason. Still, it is here somewhere".
Brin (OOC) PROTECTS THE INNOCENT!!! BANZAI! CHARGE! NAARGHGHREHGHAHGHHH!!!
Citan (OOC) trips Brin.
Brin (OOC) falls over, and puts the sugar away.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "They weren't computerized because... ... we didn't have computers."
Brin (OOC) asks, "Six years ago? Seven?"
Amaliel (OOC) asks, "..... .... Wasn't Aveh the black hole of technology?"
Brin (OOC) says, "Hm. Perhaps."
"Khiea... has not had quite the best experience with her mother," Citan explains, though likely everyone at this table knows of such a fact. "Indeed, the last time the two of them met..." The Guardian trails off, his face turning remote as he sorts through a few of the tastier memories. Laughter, and oranges. "Is there room in the castle for an infant to be adopted?" he asks suddenly, looking first to Brin and then to Amaliel. "I am certain that her mother would know of the precise date, or have the records somewhere in her house. However, if the investigation could be kept as private as possible--for Khiea's sake..." Another trailing off, and a flicker once more of the Guardian's eyes as he considers. Hmm. Perhaps... no, not Brin. Just how willing were the people at this table to get things done?
Citan (OOC) stabs Sylvi after raiding her house. Leaves her in the desert for fate to take her as she did to Khiea. Takes infant Khiea and has her adopted into Fatima Castle.
Brin (OOC) grins. And no, Brin would have _nothing_ to do with this.
Citan (OOC) says, "Well, he can take care of Little Khiea."
Brin (OOC) is left holding the baby.
"I would never turn away a child in need." He meets Hyuga's gaze, to show that he understands. "And I can look into the interview of her mother personally, if you'll speek with me later about the details." And with that he turns the conversation deftly away. "I had thought about a suitable surprise for her birthday... and what do you two think of the idea of me opening my stables to her and letting her chose her favourite? I think a desert rich gift would be appropriate, and what suits a girl more than a horse?"
Citan (OOC) mmms, and sees a scene with Syvi coming up soon...
Citan (OOC) says, "Khiea's fine with this. Mmm."
Amaliel (OOC) learns to spell. choose her favourite.
Citan (OOC) says, "We have to do it after the birthday though, so.... just investigation first, mm."
Citan (OOC) says, "If Syvi's fine with it. ^"
Brin nods. "Yes, perhaps Sylvina might know.". And, then Amaliel decides to look after that, and Brin thinks no more of it. He could not have asked for better assistance in Amaliel on ths matter, and is glad he did, or rather, that Amal offered. Brin laughs. "Aha! A wonderful idea!", he laughs again. "And a very generous one, I might add". Yes, the thought of Khiea trampling about the castle in a hor....Oh dear. Well, if it is done sensibly, then it might be a very suitable present indeed.
Brin (OOC) says, "No! Don't kill Sylvi! I RP with her all the time!". ^^.
Brin (OOC) thinks that is sensible.
Citan (OOC) says, "You can RP with her daughter."
Brin (OOC) gradually plays younger and younger characters.
Brin (OOC) is fine with the Sylvina-related chopping incident.
The shoulders of the Guardian relax as he leans back against his chair, sensing professionalism present and grateful for it. He does not even need to affirm that he will speak with Amaliel about this later--they both know of these sorts of conversations. Instead, he takes a sip of his coffee, lowering it to consider, "Lessons as well? Of course," he reprimends himself, already sensing that the two with him were as intent on the well-being of Khiea as he. "That would be rather nice. And we would often be able to visit--it would make Aveh into a home for her once more." The smile appears again, relaxed. "Thank you, Amaliel. Brin, are you thinking of the same for her?"
Citan (OOC) kills his pose.
Citan (OOC) mms and looks forward to interrogation.... "Khiea wants to invite her. We can invite, catch up, then enjoy..."
Brin (OOC) laughs.
Brin (OOC) doesn't think he can afford a horse.
Amaliel (OOC) snorts at the idea. Notes to be careful and keep his hands clean.
Citan (OOC) gives Brin a bigger paycheck.
Citan (OOC) hasn't done anything Bad in a while. Indulge him.
Brin (OOC) asks, "'Thinking of the same', as in?"
Citan (OOC) says, "Gifts."
Glad for the affirmation of his idea, Amaliel leans back and finally enjoys a sip of his coffee. He smiles, and nods his affirmation to the querry on lessons. He smiles and sits back to let Brin answer, taking special mind to thank the cooks for making the coffee perfectly as per his instruction. Well, he enjoys it this way anyway. And hopefully his guests do as well.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "Neither have I. Maybe I'll just borrow my old colouration back for the event."
Citan (OOC) lends it.
Brin stares, a blank look crossing his face. "Actually, to tell you the truth, I hadn't thought of it. With...", he indicates the courtyard..."...and being so busy. It simply slipped my mind, believe it or not. Thank you for reminding me.". He smiles. "Although, I cannot pretend to have stables to throw open to her whim, but I'll try to get her something she'd like.". Now, if only he knew her better, so he would know of anything. Bother. "Still, yourself and Khiea would be very welcome here, I'm sure. It'd be nice to have you back occasionally.".
Brin (OOC) kicks the shortpose.
"I would like to be able to come back," Citan answers, sounding wistful for a moment as his eyes range over the sights of the courtyard. But there have been so many reasons to stay away, and deserts themselves had so many associations that came with them. "I do not know what to get Khiea myself," he confesses with a laugh, adding a little more coffee to return his cooling coffee to full heat. "Anything that I would get for her, I would do on the spot regardless, and it is difficult to come up with an actual surprise, naturally... would either of you have any ideas?" He laughs again, knowing just how odd that must sound. "Perhaps... rooms in the Castle. A place that is a home for her..."
With an expansive guesture, Amaliel affirms. "Anything that I have at my disposal is also at yours, as you know." He sips again, then settles to a serious pondering. "And of course you are more than welcome here at all times. Feel free to set up your own quarters in any spare room you fancy. The castle seems so empty aside from the wing the Ministers occupy." He rolls another sip of coffee through his mouth, and settles again to thinking of a suitable gift from one to the other. He does not know enough of Khiea to make any definate decision yet. In fact, he has never met her in person, but Luka spoke well of her. "Perhaps the Emporess would better be suited to turn to for advice. All I know is that she enjoys most what little girls universally enjoy."
Citan (OOC) read that as, 'The Empress enjoys what most little girls enjoy.' ^^
Citan (OOC) had a really odd mental image. ^^
Amaliel (OOC) says, "... .... ...That just makes Amal sound very perverted. >.<"
Citan (OOC) says, "Oh. You're rig--....."
Citan (OOC) says, "Bad, bad, bad mind..."
Brin nods. "That was my impression, in the few times I've met her. Of course, rooms in the castle are not mine to give, but it is a good idea.". The castle seemed so...stuffy at times. Some childish eccentricity would liven it up no end, he thinks. Remembering the little quirks around the Jasper, he chuckles a little. "In fact, it would do the castle atmosphere good, I think...", he muses, draining his coffee.
Brin (OOC) kicks the shortpose once again. Soon, soon i will have tea. With tea comes verbosity.
Brin (OOC) takes away the coffee-coloured uniform, and gives Luka a horsie.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "poor Amal. >.<"
Citan (OOC) watches Luka mutate it to have wings.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "Pegasus..."
Brin (OOC) says, "Shhh, every little girl will want one."
Perhaps. Hmm. "I think... we may visit more often," Citan muses. "Khiea has never liked being regulated to one nation or the other, and she has friends on many sides. With the SolAveh treaties, she is able to better see those she would wish, but Solaris has not been the home she quite seeks yet." Not with Krelian there, no. "If we could?" he finally resigns himself to asking. "I know the Empress has spoken often of visiting the Castle, and it does seem as if it would be a better meeting place than Jasper. So much more like an actual residence, after all." Well, Jasper -was- a Fort. "Perhaps, perhaps... it might be nice to actually be back here again..."
Citan (OOC) stabs his pose.
Brin (OOC) dances. The guy selling me DVDs has good english! He understands the term 'bulk shipping discount'! Yay!
"It would be more than my pleasure to host you all. And it would at least keep me in close correspondance with everyone." And that was very important, as Citan well knew. "And goodness knows we have the room for guests." He smiles - his extensive cooking staff (and extensive baking hobby) may yet be put to good use. Amal was always a believer in eating well and of good food. It was startling that he was as fit as he was, and he sneaks one of the coffee biscuits, soaking up the coffee that rings the bottom of his cup with it before he chews thoughtfully.
Brin (OOC) tries..to think ...of..something..to actually...say.
Citan (OOC) decides to arrive to the Castle to also deliver Brin's promotion.
Brin (OOC) blinks.
Citan (OOC) can't figure out what Brin would be promoted to though.
Citan (OOC) asks, "We have a Prime Minister who's the King, and the.... Vizer?"
"Well, if you think so. There is certainly the room for it, anyway. The council only takes up one meeting room, and one wing of the castle. It'd certainly liven the place up even more!". He seems enthused at this, and replaces his cup on the table less then carefully. Luckily, it barely makes a sound, and remains in one piece.
Brin (OOC) makes tea. BRB. Thought Vizier was an arabian thing, as in sultan. Minister for internal affairs?
Citan (OOC) says, "Right..."
Citan (OOC) says, "Well, at least a paycheck now, so you won't be doing this on pure volunteer work. ^^"
Brin (OOC) grins. Ching ching.
Amaliel (OOC) says, "I wonder If I can muster up 1001 arabian knights."
Council... council. Yes, that reminded him. Citan holds up a hand to both break into the conversation and apologize for it, then dipping it into his coat to remove an envelope. Sealed with the crest of the Empress as well as the recently developed SolAveh sigil, and below that the Pax Jasper mark, the paper itself is high quality even to one's sight, being a delightful cream and likely custom-printed. "This is for you, Brin," he remarks off-handedly before sliding over the missive as if it were nothing more than a grocery list. "Ah, and for you, Amaliel... forgive me for forgetting," he laughs, removing another one marked only with the Empress's Crest and handing it over through his fingers.
Nodding deeply in well-expressed gratitude, Amal takes the envelope, and simply tucks it into the inside pocket of his overjacket. He would never risk a breach in Luka's security by reading a letter from her publically. "It's nothing, I simply thank you for the trouble of bringing it to me." He refills his own cup, then offers the caraffe to Brin if he wants more of his own, finishing his biscuit a minute later and brushing his fingers off on the napkin settled in his lap. Politely, he does not enquire about the other envelope.
Brin is puzzled, a little, by this. Yes, memorandums, notices, correspondances were sent to him quite regularly, but this is...something different. "Excuse me...". He opens the letter with great care, neatly cracking the seal in half, and scans the contents. His face runs white, and there is a sharp intake of breath, as he reads it through, and rereads it. "Oh...oh my."....there is a lang pause, and Brin can say nothing for the longest of times. Finally, he looks up to Amaliel, and speaks. "Well, aparently I am to present these credentials to the prime minister at my earliest convenience...", he croaks, shock evident on his face. "So, here you are.". He hands the latter and seal to Amaliel, and leans back against the table, a look of puzzlement and shock on his face.
From the expression on Citan's face--or lack of, being as relaxed as ever--the Guardian well knew what sort of news he brought. He smiles to himself upon seeing Amaliel's tact. Luka chose well. Rather than involve himself for the moment, Citan reaches for one of the biscuits himself, neatly selecting one of the top of the pile. "Some more coffee, Brin? Try one of the biscuits, they appear quite delectable..."
Citan (OOC) poses short! BAHAHAH!
With utmost interest written on his features, Amal accepts the letter and seal, shrewdly scanning the contents and taking them in with a nod, and a smile. "Well, I can't think of anyone more deserving at the present time. " He notes the handwriting carefully, and reads over the credentials. "I would have reccomended you myself, after seeing your efforts here. But of course, my higher-ups have always had wonderful foresight." He settles back, folding the letter with a nod, and handing it back to Brin. "I hope you'll advise me in the future, as I value your advice."
Brin cannot claim to be anything but shocked. "Well, I must say this was unexpected. And a great honour, at that. I will strive to provide the best service possible.". How can he think of coffee, now? "I, um, perhaps, yes. Er.". Calm yourself, Brin. This is hardly a time to fall to pieces, is it? "I'm sorry. This is just a shock, you understand.". He manages a smile, and gratefully accepts the letter back.
"Things tend to move so quickly and yet," Citan murmers, wetting his throat with coffee after the material of the biscuit, which is still nicely delicious, "they seem to be but natural of their pace once they are studied from another perspective. I also applaud the decision," he remarks. "Pax Jasper is in particular appriciative of having people it is familiar with in Aveh. You must speak with the Mother Marguerite sometime, Brin," Citan adds mildly. "And also likely with the Aquavy territories of the Bishopess Erine for your imports and exports." Mmm. The work never does end. But at least it can become more interesting. "Amaliel, is there anything you would like form Nisan while I am here?"
Smiling, Amaliel understands all too well what it was like to suddenly have favor rained down upon your head. But it was a great feeling to be recognized when you had just started to feel that you would never be, wasn't it? He sips his coffee again as he considers the offer, then shakes his head. "For now I believe I have everything that I could want. He flips the page of the tomb over. "And I believe I shall be rather too buisy anyway."
Amaliel (OOC) says, "In about half an hour I should run and catch a shower, but... after that i'll be free again, if you people don't decide that bed is a good idea."
Citan (OOC) probably will be up...
Amaliel (OOC) says, "I definately liked Mechanical Animals better. *pokes at this CD*"
Brin nods at Citan's suggestions, taking them all on board. "Thank you, Citan. I'll take care of it all". Yes, it is good to be recognised, even if humility prevents you from feeling you deserved anything near to this, Brin. "Perhaps a trip to Nisan, once Khiea's birthday is pinpointed, and celebrated". And, the smile returns, a Brin leans back on the table once more.
Brin (OOC) shortposes! Kicks it!
Brin (OOC) may want to run away sometime soon, if we are to, er, deal with Sylvi this weekend ^^.
Citan (OOC) closes here and lets Brin run?
Brin (OOC) nods.
Citan (OOC) thanks and waves. ^^
Amaliel (OOC) idly realizes that he should not be in possession of this pocket knife, and sets it carefully aside before he fetches a bandaid. BRB.
Brin (OOC) runs to the IC board, then bed.
Brin (OOC) waves.