| abstract
| - Kastaprulyi wanders down the pathway from the old landing pad, floating near the lower canopy of the forests about five meters high. The young Centauran drops to a height of about four feet as it crosses to the sand and comes into the midday light. Volouscheur is lying on a towel in the middle of the beach, sketching quietly. She's wearing a pink bikini and glowing a bright green-gold as she doodles, not noticing the Centauran yet. Kastaprulyi glides over the bright sand, leaving no mark in it. The young Centauran brings its faint inquisitive aura towards Volouscheur and sends her an unobtrusive feeling of greeting as it approaches. Volouscheur looks up from her sketching, pink and yellow threads twining around a streak of copper-peach as she returns the feeling of greeting. ~Hello, Kastaprulyi. How have you been, since we last met?" ~I've been well,~ Kas answers, dropping a little lower and circling around for a look at her sketchbook. ~Captain Ranix gave me the job title "yeoman" and some more kinds of work: more letters, schedules, paperwork, other stuff,~ it explains enthusiastically. ~We're getting ready for a mission now, but I can't talk about that one with you yet.~ Strands of apricot wind around the Light Singer, 'Scheur's sketchbook revealing a picture of the jungle before them. ~It's good that you seem to enjoy your work. And it's alright if you're not allowed to talk about the mission yet.~ Scheur looks up at the Centauran quietly, studying Kas. ~I'm glad you're enjoying your artwork now, too,~ Kas remarks agreeably. ~Did you find a group of people here to regularly share your art and culture information with?~ Volouscheur nods quietly, ~I did. We meet regularly in the Dead Fish Tavern, and talk about the difference between cultures and share pieces of artwork that we've done recently.~ ~That's good. I hope people do stuff like that in lots of cities, so learning about cultures'll be part of the culture here,~ Kas comments hopefully. ~What're some things you learned at the meetings?~ Volouscheur considers, ~I've learned that the Terrans created three kinds of harps, and had at least two Renaisance ages. And the Quaquans created no fewer than three effective glazes.~ Her aura shifts to a light pink, a faint smile on the Vollistan's lips. Kastaprulyi mentions interestedly, ~I didn't know about those things. Have you tried making or tried using those instruments and materials?~ Volouscheur nods, ~I've experimented with the glazes, and I've used several other kinds of paints as well. I think I like the Quaquan paints best, but the Sivadian oil and chalk pastels are better than the Quaquan ones, as far as texture goes.~ Kastaprulyi returns a thoughtful acknowledgement. ~I haven't done much painting with paints before, besides calligraphy. Do you mean something by picking those different kinds for the person looking at the painting?~ Volouscheur considers, ~Well, I don't know who will be looking at the painting. So I don't mean anything to them, usually. I pick the colours, the medium, by considering what will look 'right'.~ "That makes sense," Kas comments thoughtfully, then offers, "Maybe you could try using some symbolic stuff anyway, teach that to the people looking." Volouscheur nods quietly, ~Yes. But symbols mean different things to different people. A sun means Volir to me, means something else to a Quaquan, to a Human.~ ~If those people knew about some different meanings,~ Kas queries, ~do you guess you could paint enough information that they could guess which one or ones you meant?~ Volouscheur considers, ~Maybe. But in some paintings, that would mean making it very crowded. Sometimes, you have to put what you want into it and just hope that the viewer will get which meaning you're implying.~ She pauses and adds, ~Which is why you can include an artist's statement, too, so that people can know what meaning the symbols hold for you.~ Kastaprulyi 'listens' attentively, returning an interested feeling of acknowledgement. ~What shape surfaces have you painted on before?~ Kas queries. ~Flat ones, mostly. Although cave walls are sometimes rounded,~ the Light Singer replies. She offers a mental image of canvases and tapestries, with a few images of convex and concave walls, as well as walls that are just plain bumpy. 'Scheur and Kas are in the middle of the beach, conversing via telepathy. The Vollistan wears a pink bikini, and a sketchpad sits in front of her on her towel. Goldenfur comes in, he sees the pair of telepaths and starts to move his ears in a stupid and unsuccesful attempt to 'hear' them. Kastaprulyi suggests consideration of the images to Volouscheur. Kas switches to speaking aloud as it notices Goldenfur approaching and sends him a feeling of greeting. "Have you seen people painting sculptures?" Kas then asks. Goldenfur shake his head and say "I never saw someone painting a scuplture..." then he smiles and say "Poet! It is you! Nice to see you again!" Volouscheur and Kas are in the middle of the beach, the Light Singer lying on a towel and clad in a pink bikini. A sketchbook lies in front of her, the Centauran hovering nearby. Goldenfur stands within speaking distance, 'Scheur offering him a feeling of greeting, ~Hello, Goldenfur. It's nice to see you again, too.~ She shrugs to Kas, ~I've never seen someone painting sculptures. But it could be done; might make the sculpture look nicer.~ Newt comes down from the direction of the pad and heads on up the beach. Kastaprulyi offers Volouscheur a mental image of glass Christmas ornaments painted with Sivadian scenes and hung upon a branch. "I've seen some painted sculptures before, like some holiday decorations, some mobiles. But mostly Centauran sculptures I've seen just had the color as part of the glass." Kas shifts around to the side of the Vollistan nearer to Newt as it sends him a silent greeting. Goldenfur looks to Newt and waves, then he look again to the group, wondering what they are talking about exaclty. Newt waves back, "Hey!" and picks up the pace a wee bit. Volouscheur offers a feeling of greeting to Newt when she spots him, before offering a feeling of agreement to Kas, ~There aren't many painted glass sculptures on Vollista. It might be interesting to see if the practice could be introduced.~ "Hello," Kas adds aloud as its crewmate comes closer and explains helpfully, "This one was telling about meetings for sharing art in Greenville. We were talking some about painting, too..." Kas adds curiously, rising a bit, "Did you ever try painting?" Goldenfur scratches his head and says "I think that I am really poor at any form of art... But I really enjoy music and poetry... When I first met swifty I done some..." Newt halts at a nice conversational distance, "You guys talkin about paintin and stuff?" Volouscheur, Kas, and Goldenfur are all in the middle of the beach. 'Scheur sits on a towel, clad in a pink bikini; a sketchbook sits beside her. The Centauran floats nearby, with Goldenfur standing within speaking distance, like Newt. ~What are Demarian music styles like,~ the Vollistan queries. She nods to Newt, ~We are.~ Urfkgar covers one nostril with the pad of his finger, snorting a stream of snot out of the other as he lumbers out of the trees. Goldenfur thinks a little and say "Well... I just realized that I never heard a demarian music... I lived most of my time inside the engineering of a ship, or in bars around the universe, where I heard all type of music... But I never heard a demarian music..." Kastaprulyi remains listening attentively as Volouscheur asks her question. "Maybe you can call the music that you saw Demarian people liked listening to Demarian music," Kas offers. Newt says, "That's whacky. I heard heaps of Ungstiri music." Globs of Zangali snot clump together on Urfkgar's chest as he wanders along the beach. Volouscheur nods, ~And I've heard a lot of Vollistan music.~ She glances down the beach and offers a feeling of greeting to Urf, ~Aren't there types of music that Demarians like best?~ Goldenfur scratches his head and says, "Well... I never saw other demarian hearing music too... This is a good question... I think that I am going to ask silvereye and swifty if I see them... But I like music like the one that you played and sometimes a human old earth rock is fun..." Kastaprulyi suggests a touch of puzzlement and concern at Goldenfur's remark, but continues listening. Kas meanwhile greets Urfkgar in the same way as Volouscheur. "I like listening to people who're having fun listening to whatever kind of music," Kas adds. "Stupid tally glowly. Stupid floaty jellyfishy," greets the Zangali absently as he ambles along, kicking the sand. Newt looks up at Urf as he walks past, "Hey." Not being able to see Urfs chest has its advantages one must say. Volouscheur nods quietly, ~I've heard rock and roll. I don't know if it was Old Earth rock and roll, though.~ She shrugs and notes, ~It was interesting.~ She asks the Zangali, ~What is Zangali music like?~ Goldenfur turns his head and says, "Hi Urf! Eeek! Your chest is... EWWW!" Then he turns to Kas and says, "Well... You have already discovered if being stupid is good or bad?" Then he turns again to the Vollistan and says, "I think that all demarians dislike music with great volumes like too much heavy rock... Since this can hurt..." "Stupid shorty softskin," says Urfkgar. "Stupid tally glowly want hear. Stupid tally glowly go Grimlahd. Hear." He looks at Goldenfur, "What stupid fuzzball?" "Acting in a way that's funny for the people watching could be good or bad sometimes," Kas responds to Goldenfur with some confusion. The young Centauran then starts to drift toward the hangar and house. "Probably I should go study now," Kas explains. Volouscheur shrugs to Urf, ~I could do that, yes. But I want to know what you think of Zangali music.~ She waves to Kas, ~I hope your studies go well, then.~ Newt waves to Kas also, "See yahs." and turns back to the seriously tall people, craning his neck up. Goldenfur scratches his head, then sits down finally. He looks to Urf and says, "Huh... Nothing..." Urfkgar eyeballs Goldenfur a bit before he shrugs and tells the Vollistan, "Morerer gooderer no Zangali smart stuff." A ripple of tangerine washes over 'Scheur and she grins up at Urf, ~Thank you, Urf.~ She looks at Newt, strands of apricot winding around her, ~What does Ungstiri music sound like?~ Urfkgar is standing around with globs of something on his chest. The Ungstiri is standing looking up while the Vollistan (in a pink bikini) and the Demarian are seated. Goldenfur scratches his head again, then flicks his left ear and says, "Are you going to play a music for us lady Scheur?" Boomer comes strolling in, cock of the walk. He's got that marine swagger now, thumbs hitched in his belt. "Gonna fuck me some beach-girls tonight." The Zangali grunts to himself as he scrounges around in a pocket long enough to produce a plastic bag full of carrots. Volouscheur blinks at Newt, ~But what counts as normal, for you? Are there vocals? What style of music is typical of Ungstiri music?~ The Light Singer is surrounded by apricot, strands of peach and pink twining around her limbs. Boomer has a small digital-feed camera hanging around his neck, and he's looking around idly. Not too much to pick from. Urf ain't exactly packing with sexy curves. Still though, that's where Boomer heads too, for now. "Chief. Any reason why you're on the fuckin' beach for? You're scarin' all the god damn girls away." Goldenfur as soon as he hear boomer he trys to ignore him, hoping that he is not going to be annoying. Digging around in another pocket with his not-so-intact hand, Urfkgar comes up with a fairly revealing picture of a female Timonae some might recognize as Aisrya. He explains, "Urf need talk stupid softskin girly. Stupid softskins sayeded want look stupid softskin girly. Urf need stupid softskin girly say marines morerer gooderer. All stupid softskins need do marine stuff." "God damn, boss, that's the bitch that lives there." Boomer says, pointing to the house nearby. "Oughta just visit it durin' the fuckin' day or somethin'." The bulky marine looks around, focusing on Scheur. Goldenfur only gets a brief narrowing of his eyes. "Hello. There's her fuck buddy. They were always pettin' and rubbin' each other. Maybe we can do a lil' duo-sex advertisement. They can be our last resort for recruitment or some shit. C'mon, I'll ask her if she'll be willin' to do a little posin' for the Boom-Cam." With no further words, Private 'Fat Man' heads to his target of the day. Urfkgar follows Boomer with a picture of a scantily clad female Timonae in his bad hand and a bag of carrots in his good hand. Boomer, incidentally, is wearing a camera around his neck. Volouscheur is glowing and in a pink bikini with a notebook and seated on a towel. Goldenfur is sitting near her. Newt, also nearby, is standing around. Newt thinks about it some more and then nods slightly at Vol, "Yeah." Volouscheur blinks at Newt, ~But what style counts as 'normal' for Ungstiri music?~ She glows a gentle apricot, strands of pink winding around her limbs. She looks over at Boomer and Urf as they approach, apricot brightening as she offers a feeling of curiosity to both of them. Davon walks on to the beach carring a black sports bag on his right side, with the strap slung across his chest. he slowly walks towards the water, almost like he is on autopilot. He seems not to notice or pay to much attention to the current going ons of the beach, like he is focused on doing something or maybe just thinking about something. "Hey, baby." Boomer coos in response to the much taller Vollistan. "How'd you like to be in an advertisin' angle for the NLM. You might even get fuckin' paid, an' in the very least, you'll enjoy a little limelight as a god damn star. You an' your friend... Ryah or whatever." Goldenfur puts a hand on his face, thinking about something. His ears flick pointing to Boomer and his tail stops to move. Yeah, the Zangali goes a different way with that. First, he holds the picture down in front of the Vollistan and demands loudly, "Stupids softskins like see stupid tally glowly? Shaking the photo violently, he continues, "Stupid softskins like morerer see stupid tally glowly stupid softskin girly? Stupid tally glowly say marines morerer gooderer? Say all stuff no do marine stuff grabass? Say no like grabass? Say grabass stupid? Say no grabass? Say do marine stuff?" Newt's about to answer Vol but instead looks over at Boomer as he makes his suave approach. Volouscheur blinks at Boomer, arching a platinum eyebrow as strands of burnt sienna wrap around her. Her lips part slightly and...then Urf makes his approach. The Vollistan's aura flares a lurid dark wine, strands of orange wrapping around 'Scheur's legs. Scooting backwards, she replies, ~I can hear and see you quite well, Urf; you don't need to be that loud, or stand that close.~ She glances over at Boomer, ~As for your offer...if Aisrya is willing, I am as well.~ Davon stops a good ten feet short of the water and unslings his bag, setting it down on the sand to unzip it. He digs through it for a little bit and then pulls out a little PDA looking device and a round object, that he places inside his right ear. He works he PDA device for a few seconds and then tucks it away agian in the bag, before starting to under his flight suit. Boomer glances at Urf, frowning. "Fuck, Chief. I'm not even certain your ass even knows what the fuck you're sayin' half the time." The man looks back to the Vollistan. "Can't find.. uhhh, your fuckin' friend anywhere. Chief is gettin' all fuckin' pushy about it. How'd you like to do a little solo camera work? We can work out the possible duo shoots later." "Urf know stuff Urf say. Urf no know stuff Urf say. Urf no say. Urf no stupid softskin," grunts the Zangali at Boomer. Without moving back or lowering his voice, he tells Volouscheur, "Say no want grabass. Do marine stuff. Say marines morerer gooderer." Goldenfur approaches the woman and then pokes at her side. Volouscheur blinks at Urf quietly and nods, ~Alright. I might require help saying that marines are the best, though, since I don't think telepathy can be recorded on cameras.~ She looks at Boomer, strands of burnt umber wrapping around her, ~Alright. What sort of work would these solo shoots involve?~ Newt just watches, an expression of curiosity and bemusement on his face. Davon takes off his belt and starts to pull off his boots, so that he can take off his flight suit. He finishes taking his flight suit off to show the Black T-shirt and shorts he was wearing underneath the suit. He places the clothes he just took off in his bag and starts to stretch out his arms and legs before heading closer to the water. Boomer points to the water surf. "You can't talk? Shit..." The marine looks to the Chief. "Whatcha think, Urf?" Goldenfur just rolls his eyeballs at the scene.. The Zangali points to the notebook. He says, "Do thingy." Then, he looks in the direction Boomer's pointing, spotting Davon. Fixing his single eye on the man, he points and bellows, "Stupid softskin. Here. Now. Stupid softskin help stupid tally glowly." He holds the picture in front of him and then points to the notebook, yelling, "Stupid softskin do thingy." Volouscheur blinks quietly and then nods to Urf, ~That would work, yes.~ She shakes her head at Boomer, ~No, I can't; I don't have vocal chords.~ Davon hears something, or at least you think that because he turns around to look over at Urf. He pulls the round object out of his right ear and looks puzzled at Urf, yelling out "What do you want, Chief?" He slowly starts walking toward Urf as he waits for his reply. "Well, let's do this shit then." Boomer says, pulling the camera around his neck. Go throw some water on, an' give me your sexy pose. You can sign Urf's notebook afterwards." The bulky marine pauses, lets the camera hang from it's strap again, and draws his pistol. The energy cell is popped out, and then he offers it to Cheur. Davon, Newt, Urf, and Goldenfur are ignored. "Here. A god damn prop." "Urf sayededed," bellows the Zangali. "Stupid softskin. Here. Now." He uses the hand holding the mostly forgotten bag of carrots to indicate the notebook, "Do stuff. Say marines mosterer gooderer all time. Stupid tally glowly say all stupid stuff need do marine stuff. Do marine stuff. No mosterer stupid stuff all times." He pauses before he adds, "Do morerer big." Volouscheur stands, eyeing the pistol for several moments. Reluctantly, she takes it, holding it in one hand while orchid and orange strands wind around the hand and fingers. Davon nods his head as he walks up to Urf, "Right you need me to tell people how good the marines are and you want the tall woman over there to do the same." he says to urf and then adds quickly "Did I catch that right, Chief?" he stands waiting for confirmation. Boomer reaches down to slap Volouscheur on her rump. It's not a particularly fast or powerful blow, so easy to step away from and easy to ignore as well. "Go play in the fuckin' water. I'll guide ya through the steps." Urfkgar tucks the picture of Aisrya away in a pocket and eventually comes up with a large magic marker. He tosses the marker down on the notebook. With his hand free, he starts to eat carrots. Around a mouthful of partially chewed vegetables, he bellows at the Vollistan, "Stupid softskin girlies want see stupid softskin?" He indicates Davon with a vague wave. Yellow flares around the site where Boomer's hand would've hit if 'Scheur hadn't side-stepped and started down towards the water. She glances over at Davon, offering Urf a shrug as a brief wave of green ripples over her, ~One would assume so; I don't know what all humanoid females like, though, so I couldn't be sure.~ Davon shrugs his shoulders as he waits to see where this is headed. "Your incharge Chief, just let me know what you want me to do." He places the round object back in his right ear and just stands waiting. Boomer follows idly, camera held in his hands. "I think he's talkin' to that guy. I guess he'll be takin' those pictures." Urfkgar points to the marker and notebook. He says, "Do stuff. Say stupid tally glowly say marines mosterer gooderer all times. Say all stuff need do marine stuff. All stuff no grabass. Do marine stuff. Say stupid tally glowly sayeded. Do morerer fasterer. Doeded. Go do stuff stupid softskin say." He points towards Boomer. "Say stupid softskin girlies need do marine stuff." Volouscheur shrugs to Boomer, wading into the water and stopping once it gets ankle-deep, apparently waiting for further instruction. She looks at Urf and then Boomer, before glancing over at Davon, strands of apricot winding around her legs. Davon nods his head as he takes the notebook and starts writing "Right Chief, I will write that in here."he says as he is writing in the notebook. "want me to sign it as well i take it?" He says as he looks over at Volouscheur. Boomer follows Volouscheur for some distance, then looks her over. "Alright, let's fuckin' see... your legs and face are ya best fuckin' attributes, gotta figure a way to work them over. Okay, try kneelin'... on your knees, feet tucked in behind your ass. It'll be a good start. Hold the gun up, like you're lookin' around with it. Like some creep just walked up an' started to harrass you, an' now you wanna kick his fuckin' ass. But in a sexy way." "Urf no care," says Urfkgar with a shrug before he stuffs some more carrots in his mouth. He gestures lazily towards Boomer and the Vollistan. "Go do stuff. Say marines morerer gooderer. Say stupid softskin girlies need do marine stuff. Stupid tally glowly thingies say stupid softskins need do marine stuff. All stuff need do marine stuff." Newt just hangs back, sitting on the sand and watches the tall people do their thing. Volouscheur offers to Davon helpfully, ~I /think/ he wants you to write down what I say, because I can't actually say it out loud. But I'm not sure.~ She blinks at Boomer, kneeling in the pose he requests - although, since she's a modern Vollistan, she probably doesn't really hit the target of 'look like you want to beat someone up,' in a sexy way or not. Davon stops writing as he looks over toward Volousheur and then at Urf "Right Chief, will get on that." He starts over toward Boomer and Volouscheur with the marker and notbook in hand. Boomer frowns, peering at Volouscheur. "C'mon, give me a scowl or somethin' to work with. Fuck. Oh well, get rid of the gun, we'll just work sex." Boomer says, taking a picture of the Vollistan before motioning her to toss the gun back toward dry sand. "Okay, get down on all fours, make sure ya tilt your head toward the camera so we can get a good shot. So, sweetheart, ya got a name? An' how exactly do you feel about the Marines? Ain't they just the best damn group of men ya ever seen?" Urfkgar grunts and grumbles as he lumbers down towards the water. Then he bellows earnestly, "Marines mostererer gooderer stuff all times. No marine. Grabass." This sudden yelling causes him to lose most of a mouthful of carrots. He pauses to scoop the orange mass up out of the sand and pop it back into his mouth without bothering to brush it off first. Volouscheur tosses the gun away, towards dry sand, quite cheerfully; the Vollistan complies with Boomer's instructions, glowing gold and grinning, ~My name is Volouscheur. And the Marines are a wonderful group of men, yes.~ Davon stops a respectable distance from the pair and starts to write down the telepaths thoughts on paper. He nods his head back and forth almost like he is agreeing with someone. Boomer nods approvingly, grinning at Volouscheur's grin. The gold illumination is just a neat little extra. "Good, good, that's better. You got a god damn great smile, Chew. Okay, lay down on your side, surf comin' in on your back. Adjust your bikini a little, bunch it up, show off those chest pads of yours a lil' more. Can ya glow pink for me too? An' if ya ever given anyone come fuck me eyes, I want 'em now, you dig? Anyway, would you say people that were career military were making a good decision to join? Why and why the fuck not? Do you like pie, an' what kind? An also, do you have any encouragin' words for any that may be considerin' joinin' the marines? Like maybe a chance to take you out for a drink?" Davon gets a glance, before the photographer focuses on his job again. Urfkgar snorts and clacks his teeth together as he shifts his glower towards Boomer, but he doesn't comment yet. (Newt wanders off.) The adjustments are made and then 'Scheur stretches out on her side, giving the camera that 'come fuck me' look that Boomer asked for. Her aura shifts to a bright pink, streamers of gold wrapping around her. ~People who join the military to protect people are, indeed, making a good decision, because as long as there are people who will use violence to take what they want, there will be a need for protectors. I prefer strawberry and rhubarb pie, and I would most certainly go out for a drink with any marine who asked politely.~ Another grin, ~I couldn't promise any more than a drink, of course.~ Davon continues to nod his head and write down everything Volouscheur telepathically tell him. "Aw, fuck yeah, give it to me toots. Hell, I want to finish this up an' take ya up on that offer myself." Boomer says in response to Scheur's look. Click. Click. Click. The camera catches every minute movement in the Vollistan's form, with slightly varied angles. "Lift your hand up to your lip, tug at the bottom one like your ponderin' somethin... put your other hand out in front of you, in the sand. Look to the sky. Is that a rabbit up there?" Boomer says, pausing a bit in his camera shooting. "Would you be so bold as to say that real men put their lives on the line protectin' the fuckin' innocent? That anythin' else is just grabass?" The Zangali apparently decides that Boomer's got the hang of things because he wanders off towards the trees, stuffing the now empty carrot bag into his pocket as he leaves. Volouscheur sets one hand out on the sand, placing a finger on her bottom lip and tugging at it lightly as she looks up at the sky. ~I think that I would indeed say that real men are willing to put their lives on the line to protect the innocent and the defenceless, yes. And anything else may well be 'grabass.'~ Davon continues writing Volouscheurs thoughts down in the notebook and tabs the round earpeice for a second before he continues nodding his head. Click. Click. "That's a fuckin' wrap. You were unfuckin' believable, Chew. Got me all ready to go." The camera is left to hang around Boomer's neck. "You got all that, pal? Just take it to base. Don't fuckin' know what they'll do with it. Don't really fuckin' care." The Vollistan gets a look. "Want to go grab a fuckin' beer at the Fish?" Volouscheur gets to her feet and nods to Boomer, ~Certainly. Just let me get my things before we go.~ She heads over to her towel to retrieve it and the sketchpad. Davon looks over at Boomer and nods his head as he turns to start heading back to his bag. "right I will do that, before I go on patrol." He then places the notebook on his bag before he turns to head into the water. (Much, much later..) Blue Angel Bistro - Breezy and casual, this good-sized eatery is spread out on two platforms that merge together in the middle, forming a sort of '8' shape. A wide strip of deep blue, industrial-grade carpet covers the floor where the two platforms meet, and a large, pictorial menu hangs high over a tan counter for ordering. Behind the counter is a powered lift that is constantly occupied with waitstaff coming and going. Around the outsides of the 8, a wide corridor runs around the tree trunks, with tables on either side of the aisleway. It sports a strip of huge plasteel windows around its entire face, giving the diner a magnificent view of the outside foliage and wildlife from more than 30 feet in the air. A bridge from the center section leads out of the building and towards the Commercial Platform. Low, warbling noises accompany the indigo blanket of night, and stars twinkle in the sky. Volouscheur sits at the counter, backpack on the floor at her feet. A sketchbook sits in front of her, beside a glass of fruit juice and a dish of fried clams, and the Vollistan is doodling absently in between bites of clam. She glows a gentle green-gold, with accents of pink. Tasya slowly walks in the bistro, removing her berret as she passes through the doors into the eatery. The Ungstiri woman trudges towards the counter, tucking the head wear into her belt as she goes. The Sergeant Major stands back slightly, looking up to what's available to order. Being 8PM at night, it's a little hard to find a seat, but fortunately the one next to Volouscheur is still available, and she then makes her way towards it, still looking up to the menu. Volouscheur glances up from her sketchpad as Tasya sits down beside her, offering a feeling of greeting and the comment, ~The fried clams are quite good. And they do a very good oyster chowder, too.~ Tasya glances out the corner of her eye, and then turns her head to look to 'Scheur. "Spaciba," the shorter woman says in reply to the Vollistan. "I appreciate recommendation, da?" She then glances back up to the menu, craning her neck slightly to see. "Vi enjoy food here?" Volouscheur nods, strands of pink wrapping around her arms, ~Yes, I do. It's good food, and it's not terribly expensive.~ She takes a bite of fried clams as she 'says' this. "It close to home," Tasya says in reply to 'Scheur, as she watches a member of waitstaff approaching. "I have fried clams, da?" she states, placing her order, and then glances back to the Volistan once more. "I nyi worry, I get most food free from militia. I prefer to live off when nyi on duty." Volouscheur nods again, ~What's life like, in the militia, when Urf isn't making you run around and do training exercises?~ Streamers of apricot wrap around her, the Vollistan looking at Tasya curiously. "I Sergeant Major," Tasya says, giving a firm nod. "I make people run around more than Urf. I enforce disipline." She's still very friendly, and seeminly approachablel. "Life is good, I be in Ungstiri Militia for 16 year and I be in New Luna Militia for four year." A proud smile crosses her lips, as she finishes up. "Good life. Vi interested in joining?" The Light Singer shrugs lightly, ~I'm not sure. I'd like to help protect people, I suppose...but I'm not sure if I'm really cut out for fighting.~ Scheur smiles faintly, ~Violence is...abhorrent to my people - so it's not exactly something I've ever picked up.~ "It nyi hard to learn," Tasya says, slipping slightly in instructor mode. "Each one of us, we have it in us, da?" She gives a very slow nod, as she looks up to the Volistan. "I Marine, I proud to be Marine. I train Marine in lessons that Urf nyi teach, da?" Volouscheur nods, ~I'm sure that my people are just as capable of violence as anyone else, under the right circumstances. It's just rare for us to react in violence.~ She smiles to Tasya, ~And I'd be willing to learn those lessons. I'm just not sure if I'd be right for the militia.~ A brief swirl of pale blue, ~How much use can someone with no vocal chords be, after all?~ Tasya shrugs to the question. "Vi have hands," she says in reply, and then she glances down towards the woman's legs. "Vi have legs... I have one good leg and one cybernetic, I Marine still." It's about now that her steamed clams arrives. "It about pride in self, it about being better than rest, da?" Volouscheur considers this and nods, ~I can understand that, yes.~ She takes another bite of her clams, ~Being the best that you can be, at whatever it is you specialize in.~ Once more, Tasya nods in agreement. "Da," she says, offering the woman a smile. "I specialise in zero gravity combat, I make sure hoopin' tourists nyi get killed." She finally starts to dig into her food, rather pickly at that. "Kak vas zavuk?" Apricot flares around 'Scheur, the Vollistan asking a bit apologetically, ~I don't understand the question; what are you asking me?~ Tasya gives a slight sign, and then glances up towards the Light Singer. "I ask, what is vi name, da?" The shorter woman then looks back down to her steam clams and starts picking through it once more. "I Tasya Gorbachova." Volouscheur's lips part briefly and the Vollistan nods, ~Ah. I am Volouscheur.~ Nope, no last name here. "Rada paznakomitsa gospahza Volouscheur," Tasya says, as her attention is plied away from her meal once more. "Vi think much about militia service? Vi do planet honour to serve. Nyi just planet, self, da?" She then consumes one of her steamed clams. The Vollistan nods, ~I do think about it quite a bit, yes. I want to help keep people safe, if I can. I'm just not sure if I'd be accepted into the militia, is all.~ The Sergeant Major glances back up to the Vollistan, her brow slightly raised. "Is about nyi having vocal cords?" she quiries, seeming slightly concerned. "Vi communicate fine through psionics. Nyi all people appreciate," she shrugs as she says this. "It nyi worry me. They learn, da?" Volouscheur nods again, ~Yes. And I know that they'll learn to appreciate it - or at least accept it. But since I can communicate only through psionics...it does leave me vulnerable to psi blockers. And it means I can't use comm units, since they can't transmit telepathic messages.~ "Marine never vork alone," Tasya replies, still picking and eating through her steamed clams. "Marine is best service to join. Vi have engineers, vi have pilots... They have no heart, no backbone, nyi see real combat." She then glances back up to the other woman. "How vi feel about killing?" A wave of blue-black washes over Volouscheur, tinged by orchid, ~I would rather not kill - or even hurt - another sentient being if I have a choice. But if I had no choice...or if it were not only my life at stake...~ Scheur's eyes close briefly before opening again to look at Tasya, ~I suspect that I could. And would.~ Tasya slowly nods, as usual, to the Light Singer's response. "I talk to Chief Warrant Officer Urf, I will tell him that vi interested in joining, da? What if vi friend life in danger, or that of an innocent? Could vi fire a weapon in anger?" The question is considered and then 'Scheur offers a slow, sad smile, ~In anger? Yes; most certainly. If the life of a friend or an innocent, one who could not defend themselves, were in danger? Again..yes, I think I could.~ With yet another answer, comes another nod from the Ungstiri woman. "I tell Urf," she says, as she turns back to her meal and continues picking through it. "If he nyi available, I vill conduct test. I nyi on duty, so I nyi do now, da?" Volouscheur nods quietly, taking another bite of her own meal. ~That's understandable and acceptable, yes.~ Yet another bite, ~What would the test consist of, if I may ask?~ "It depend on mood," Tasya says, teasingly. "Nyet. It simply physical test, running, push up... It nyi hard." She turns her head to look towards the other woman. "Sit up... It easy to do." That comes from a woman who doesn't know anything else apart from the military. Whereas 'Scheur...'Scheur hasn't had anything to do with the military up until now. And on top of that, her race isn't one known for feats of physical strength. If she's lucky, she'll pass the test and probably be put into endurance training. She nods to Tasya solomnly, ~What would you recommend, as a training regimen for preperation for the test?~ Tasya reaches into her pocket and withdraws a PDA. "Vi have PDA, da?" she asks, almost expectantly. "Running, gym time. I nyi strong, but I faster than most of cocky men younger than me, da?" If 'Scheur does have a PDA, then Tasya copies a program and then hands if across to the woman, if not... Then the Sergeant Major shows her the view screen of the physical standards for the NLM Marines. Volouscheur reaches down and pulls a PDA out of her backpack, nodding. ~I will take this regimen as seriously as I do harp practice.~ The program is loaded onto Scheur's PDA with only mild difficulties, a brief flicker of purple surrounding the Vollistan as she manages to get the PDA to do what she wants it to. Unlike Tasya, who's grumbling something in Mierznykovy. No doubt something crude and vulgar, which she would never generally say. Once her PDA gives her a friendly chime, she looks up to 'Scheur and gives an approving smile. "I wish good luck, da?" She says, as her bitter tone drops off and is replaced by her usual friendly tone. "It be good for more woman to join Marines. I only woman Marine in Unit." Volouscheur nods quietly, ~I think it's good for other women to join as well; men aren't the only ones who can protect, after all.~ "On Ungstir," Tasya states, quite seriously. "All share honour of protection of motherland, da? I serve active until eleven year ago... I lose leg, and hand. I lose for the motherland... I leave motherland, nyi go back after Nall attack. I join NLM as instructor... I teach tourists of what nyi to do, I teach from expierence. I may have medal for incident that occur. But medal nyi bring back leg, hand if lose, da?" Another nod, ~Nor will it grant vocal chords. It's just an acknowledgement of what you already know, probably; that you did the best you could. An acknowledgement that can be shown, without having to tell what happened.~ A brief wave of maroon washes over 'Scheur, matching the hue of the faint blush in her cheeks. ~At least...that's what I assume. I could be wrong.~ "It was boarding," Tasya says as she starts to recap those events. "We were half on when ship pull away. Half on UM ship, other half on ship being boarded. Our Commanding Officer, he stuck on UM ship... I was Starshina, second highest on board other ship. Officer in charge, he get shot in back. I co-ordinate team and help seize ship... I got lax storming bridge," her tones quietens considerabley as she says this, and it's almost an ashamed tone. "I get shot because I nyi pay attention." The story is listened to, Volouscheur's aura fading to a coppery brown, with strands of cyan weaving their way around her. ~But you can't go back and fix mistakes. You can only keep going, make sure that you don't make those mistakes again, try to make sure that others don't make the same mistake.~ She offers a feeling of acceptance and comfort as she 'says' this. "I train people so they nyet make same mistake as me," Tasya says, slowly nodding. Her cheery mood from earlier seems have have gone. "What happen, is in past. I get over injury..." She glances up towards the other woman once more. "Like vi, I adjust and over come ya problem. What nyi killed vi, only makes vi stronger, da?" d. Volouscheur nods quietly, ~As long as you learn from it, grow because of it, I think; otherwise, it did kill you, in a way.~ Tasya remains silent, and quirks a slender brow at the vollistan. "Ya nyi panimayu," she rattles off in her native tongue, shaking her head. She then quickly corrects herself, sounding slightly sheepish. "I nyi understand, da? I nyet die... Lose hand and leg, da?" Volouscheur tugs at one of her braids, a wave of maroon washing over the Vollistan as she looks sheepish as well, ~I...phrased that badly, I think. It makes you stronger as long as you have learned from it, grown because of it - worked past it. Otherwise...it has crippled something inside of you.~ She pauses for a few moments before continuing, ~But you have learned from it, so even if you lost your hand and leg...you're far from crippled.~ "I nyi get to do what trained to do," Tasya replies, frowning slightly. "I am Marine who specilise in zero gravity combat... I train Marine to do ya job, da?" She takes a deep breath in, and then gives a disgruntled sigh. "I should be going. I training reports to file, da? It nyi good form for Sergeant Major to turn up tired. It was pleasure to meet vi, Volouscheur. I tell Warrent Officer Urf that vi express interest in Marines, and we set up date." Volouscheur smiles to Tasya, ~It was a pleasure to meet you too, Tasya.~ Her aura shades to a faint pink, ~I look forward to the test.~ She glances at her plate, blinking as she realizes it's empty. ~I think I should go rest too. It's more difficult to exercise when tired.~ Tasya gives a nod to the Light Singer and then slips off her stool, her booted feet landing heavily on the wooden decking of the tavern. "I wish vi good luck," she intones once more, giving a nod of her head to the other woman. The Ungstiri Sergeant Major makes her way towards the exits, and leaves. Volouscheur waves to Tasya, ~Volir go with you.~ 'Scheur returns to her meal and her idle doodling, strands of burnt sienna wrapping around her as Tas leaves.
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