Log Date: 12/14/98, 12/15/98 Log Cast: Neva, Tance Log Intro: Anxious to keep him from having to spend his Passover on Ballybran, the young Singer called Neva has spirited Tance Vokrim off to the luxury liner _Alexi Styvesant_, where she herself had been staying. Tance's Passover-induced hibernation is not quite so deep that he doesn't fall victim to the recurrent nightmares of his loss of Kesya... or remain oblivious to his changed surroundings. Concerned by his obvious deep-seated grief, Neva nevertheless is bent on prying him out of it, and winds up dunking him in her suite's bathtub by way of a wake-up call. After the drenched Tance knocks his head on her bathroom floor, his self-appointed hostess takes it upon herself to purchase him some new clothing... and also discovers that he's drawn to her books, which solves at least for the time being what to let the man do with himself now that she's hauled him off on a vacation. Aside, that is, from sleep... ---------- Neva's Suite Luxury, this rooms reeks of it, or at least as much as you can cram into a room on a spaceship. The walls are covered with wood panels, each set with a differing pattern of hardwood inserts. When taken all together, this creates a panorama that is breathtaking. However with that we have just started. A deep shag carpet covers the floor, and hanging high above this there is a brass and crystal chandelier. Of course the furnishings are also of very high quality. Deep leather couches and armchairs are placed at random about this spacious room. The walls are a similar story. One wall is covered with a sprawling bookcase, filled with -real- leather bound books. Another wall is dominated by a large screen holovid, that is when the wood covering it has been retracted. Another wall empty except for a small curtained porthole. Beyond this the deep black of space can be seen. Finally, the most enigmatic feature of the room is revealed. Set into the last wall there is the facade of a brick fireplace. Within this there burns a gas fire, constantly flickering it's flames, and casting most interesting shadows on the room's contents - especially with the chandelier high above. Obvious exits: Bathroom Bedroom Out Neva steps into the room from the bedroom. Neva has arrived. Not surprisingly, Tance has dozed off in his seat by the fire, the quilt in his lap, one bare foot sticking out from underneath the quilt's dangling bottom edge. He's got the two mystery novels still, one lying beneath his quiescent right hand, the other held limply in the left, his thumb stuck in between the pages to mark the place. Yeeeeaawwnn. Neva steps out of the bedroom, still a bit bleary-eyed, and walks over, curling up in the chair next to Tance's. "You sleeping?" she asks--as if it weren't obvious. He is, indeed, sleeping. And looking a trifle less rumpled than he had when inert on the couch before, if nothing else due to his having fallen asleep sitting up this time, in the new white shirt. Tance lumps there with his head tilted sideways, a mild snore escaping him; his features have eased again in slumber. Well, maybe if she keeps talking, he'll wake up. "How do you like the book so far?" asks Neva, examining the marking finger's location. "Mmrmmm?" comes a faint mumble from the man in the chair. It would seem that Tance made it about seventy-five pages into the novel, and he stirs slightly when the book in his hands is shifted enough to reveal the page number. "Do you like it?" asks Neva again. "I thought it was a good book. Must be, of course, to warrant it being published in hardcover." Brown eyes come open, drowsily. "Mmmm," is Tance's next noise, and then he asks vaguely, his voice still relaxed with sleep and a bit warbly, "What time is it...?" "Um... I dunno?" Neva giggles a little, and shrugs. "I just woke up." Tance lifts his head, blinking sleepily around the room with what might after three witnessed wakings be judged to be his usual disorientation upon waking up. "Right," he mumbles under his breath. "Here..." "The book?" Once again, Neva drags the subject back. "Did you like it?" Reminded, Tance starts, and peers down at the volume still loosely held in his hands. He then observes plaintively, "I didn't get too far..." Nodding, Neva chuckles. "You fell asleep, no? Passover does that. It's okay." You feel the resonance tingling in your blood. "Dropped off," Tance agrees. He then peers at the younger Singer, still bemused, and then proffers, "I, uh... reads good, I think..." He indicates the book, brow crinkling. "I'll hafta start it again, when I can stay awake..." "I'm sure you'll get the chance." Neva leans back in her chair, smiling. "Mm. It's so... comfortable, here. Makes my suite at JPF look positively barren." To this, Tance grunts lowly, rubbing a hand across still-drowsy eyes. "You'd know better on that than I would, girlie..." "Not yours, I suppose." Neva chuckles softly. "But I love the books... and the fireplace. I wonder if they'd allow those on Bally." "Didn't decorate it," mumbles Tance, shifting position, his features tautening. "Didn't decorate what?" asks Neva, startled and looking over to him. Tance shrugs, fidgeting with the books now, peering at their back covers. "My suite," he mutters. You can hear crystal resonance rushing between your ears. "Then... oh." Neva stops before even asking the question, sighing. "I'm sorry?" Tance mutters lowly, "No reason to be sorry, ain't your fault." "Well, right," admits Neva. "Anyway." A long pause. "Um." Another, somewhat longer pause. Tance looks up again, pinning the younger Singer with a dark, level gaze. "So now that I'm here, girlie," he rasps, "what now...?" Good question. "I don't know--what would you like to do? There's a garden, and a gym... I honestly haven't explored the whole thing yet," offers Neva quickly. You can hear crystal resonance coursing gently through your body. "I..." Having a _choice_ seems to throw Tance off; it's almost as if the man's just not used to having a _vacation_. For a few moments he looks unsettled, then he mutters, "I ain't exactly a social paragon, y'know. Don't wanna go draggin' a cracked old karker all over a fancy place like this..." "You're not cracked, and you don't /look/ that old. What you are means nothing, with our kind." Neva grins. "Either way, if you prefer, we can stay here." Is Tance starting to blush? Perhaps he is, and perhaps the notion of being alone in a luxurious environment with a young woman is a reason as to why. "But you're bent on me... havin' fun, aye?" he says grudgingly, averting his gaze. "You still have that book, no?" Neva gestures a little towards the book in his hand. "We've got plenty of time for fun in whatever form--at least, that time that we don't spend sleeping." Tance shifts in his chair, nervously. He seems to wrestle with a thought, and then he asks, "What would... you do, if I read more...?" And he fidgets again with the book. "I dunno," Neva admits thoughtfully. "Could get a book for me. Might go sleep. Something like that." Tance pauses again. Then, hesitantly, like a child afraid of having his idea shot down, he suggests, "You wanna... read me somethin'?" He delivers this question in a low, rough tone, his gaze still directed down to the book in his hands, and its companion in his lap. "Sure, why not?" Neva grins, leaning forward. "What would you like me to read, then? One of those? Or...?" A sweeping hand motion indicates the rest of the books on their shelves. You can hear crystal resonance coursing gently through your body. If you pay attention to it, the crystal resonance can be heard coursing through your body at all times. Tance smiles a little, an expression that still looks awkward on his weathered visage, and proffers forth the first of Jipao's mystery novels. Taking the book, Neva curls up in her chair again, opening the book and turning to the first page. A smile is sent over to him, first, and then her eyes fix on the book. Then, her lips part around the title of the book.. and she reads. "Chapter One," she begins after a moment. The words that follow are rich, calm--a good reading-out-loud voice. As the story settles into its rhythm, Tance shifts his position, his head turning slightly towards the younger Singer, his gaze flickering from her to the fire and back again. Something that might be eagerness begins to lighten his face, suggesting that, indeed, he'd enjoyed this story before he'd dozed off over it. Every now and then, in a pause between sentences, Neva will look up and glance at Tance--with a smile, she continues. In those same, soothing tones, she describes the story's hero, and how he becomes involved with the first mysterious happenings. It doesn't take much to guess that beneath that frequently disoriented exterior, Tance Vokrim still possesses a mind craving exercise... and an imagination, too. Unaware of his companion's surreptitious scrutiny, the man listens with steadily lightening eyes, a slight smile curling one end of his mouth. "Damnfool idiot's gonna get in up to his neck," he can be heard to mutter, but not at all unkindly. Well, of course he is. Being the normal dashing hero usually contained in such novels, he doesn't have the sense to realize he should keep his nose in his own business--and so, as Neva relates, he launches himself into discovering the cause of these incidents. Pausing, after a few more steady minutes, she takes a deep breath... and starts Chapter Two. But she doesn't get too far. "My turn?" Tance abruptly asks, voice going gruff. "Oh!" Neva blinks, drawn out of the story rather abruptly. Then, she grins, and offers the book out. "Sure, why not?" You feel the resonance tingling in your blood. Tance doesn't exactly beam, but his face does undergo a transformation no less noticeable for its subtlety: his eyes now full of anticipation, that crooked grin curling his mouth, one might almost suppose him not too much older than the hero of the story. He angles the book to best allow the firelight to illumine the pages, and then picks up where Neva had left off, as the dashing young hero has his first tempestuous encounter with a heroine as plucky and stubborn as he is impulsive. Tance's voice warms, too, in a way it's had yet to do in his companion's hearing, its cadences initially hesitant, but soon picking up a rhythm not unlike the one Neva had established, his tones gaining vigor with every passing paragraph. Leaning forward, Neva is an avid listener, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palms. She watches him, as he reads, nodding, chuckling, and making other assorted noises when appropriate. It's quite obvious that Tance hasn't ever read this book before, or at the very least hasn't read it within his capability to remember. He frequently starts at the events unfolding even as he reads them, his voice rising in surprise at the near-miss the hero and heroine have with a seemingly out of control aircar that nearly runs them over oh-so-coincidentally after the first clue to the ominous goings-on in the spaceport's docking bays is revealed. Even Neva has gotten so into it as to barely even giggle at his surprise, though she herself seems to recall the story. In fact, as the tension builds, she leans a little further forward, doesn't even blink until the danger has passed. Eventually, though, the end of the chapter is reached and Tance pauses for breath, unaccustomed to this kind of vocal exercise for all that he _is_ a Crystal Singer. He holds out the book anxiously, urging, "Your turn, girlie, keep it goin'?" You can hear crystal resonance coursing gently through your body. A quick nod, and Neva takes the book carefully. A moment spent fixing her eyes in the right spot. "Ah! Here." Then, she begins to read again. Her voice rushes at points, so eager is she to get to the next word, the next paragraph, but she forces herself to slow down. Tance leans on the arm of his chair, a white-clad elbow supporting him, his bearing full of interest and his eyes still alight. This is the most alert he's looked ever since the younger Singer's abrupt spiriting of him off the moonbase, so thoroughly has the story engrossed him. Seemingly pleased by this, Neva smiles, although perhaps in an inappropriate moment in the story. Then, however, she smothers it, and continues to read. She turns the pages carefully, looking up momentarily between them, just to make sure he's still enjoying it. If you pay attention to it, the crystal resonance can be heard coursing through your body at all times. The older Singer still listens ardently, drinking in the tale with an undeniable thirst. "Ha!" he crows, at the first sign of the hero getting jumped by the as-of-yet unidentified villain -- or villains' -- hired thugs. "Knew he was gettin' into it up to his neck, fool oughtta watch his back!" Shushing him, Neva continues, until the hero has successfully fought off the thugs--with the heroine's timely arrival helping quite a bit. Then, the chapter draws to a close, and she holds the books out. "Your turn." You can hear crystal resonance coursing gently through your body. And yet again, Tance accepts the volume. And so it goes, chapter by chapter, the two Singers trading off as the plot progresses; taking turns each chapter seems to work well, enough of a turn each time that attention is kept, the threat of Passover drowsiness kept at bay for the time being. Only when the first inevitable intimate scene between the heroine and hero occurs does Tance seem to falter. This time _he_ has the book, and his voice slows unsurely over the sentences, a blush beginning to darken his features. And Neva keeps listening. She doesn't blush--funny, since that seems to be common on people as fair-skinned as she is. Finally, a smile cracks her lips, but still, she doesn't interrupt. Tance makes it as far as the romantically inclined couple twining into one another's arms. Then he abruptly thrusts the book back at his companion, eyes averted to the fire now, as he proclaims brusquely, "And they, uh, they kiss. End chapter. Your turn, girlie..." What? Is Neva supposed to just accept this? "One of the best scenes in the book. And there are four pages left in that chapter," protests the younger Singer. Apparently, she's read this one more than a few times. Tance visibly reddens even further while peering sidelong over at the young woman, unsettled by the fact that she is not taking the book. "Well, um, they... kiss," he mutters. "Don't need to know more, let's just, uh, just keep readin'." With a heavy, entirely melodramatic sigh, Neva takes the book. Opening it in her lap, she herself skims through the next few pages--and then, turns to the next chapter. The reading resumes. You can hear crystal resonance rushing between your ears. It would seem, apparently, that the kissing scene has palpably thrown off Tance's equilibrium. Only after several more pages' distance have been placed between him and that intimate encounter does he begin to regain his previous vigorous interest.... only to be disconcerted again when the hero and heroine fall into the now-revealed villain's clutches, and the wounded hero slumps unconscious in the heroine's arms. "She's gonna get all nursy, ain't she?" he mumbles uneasily. "'Course not," retorts Neva, sniffing a little bit. And it's true--at least at first, as the heroine valiantly defeats the vile fiend or somesuch. Four pages later, she's nursy, and spends a good page and a half fussing over his wounds. Go figure. "He's okay, kark it," mumbles Tance embarrassedly, just as the hero insists that he's okay, he just wants to sleep, and ow! Yes! It hurts! Tance Vokrim, apparently, is unnerved by solicitous women. Continuing her reading, Neva turns the page. Once the wounds are safely tended, the two return, and the villain is taken to a rehab center. The story then winds itself up--and Neva closes the book. "Well... what'd you think?" You feel resonance tingling in your bones. Tance blows out a long breath, shoving his hand reflexively back through his air, and he looks up at his companion's question. Still looking a trifle sheepish, he neverthless manages a slight crooked smile and a reply of "That was... fun." There's a wondering note in his voice; he sounds surprised at his own admission. Standing, Neva steps over and re-shelves the book. "I thought so, too," she offers as she slides back into her seat. "You liked the book?" You can hear crystal resonance coursing gently through your body. "Yeah," says Tance in gruff tones, and then with a bit more surety. "I liked it okay... yeah." He sits up, beginning to look more at ease, perhaps now that the uncomfortable notions of kissing and such are now behind him. Streeetch. Neva glances around the room, smiling a bit. "So--what now?" What now, indeed. Tance blows out a breath, and places what might be a nervous regard upon the still-flickering fire. "That was... my best idea," he mutters. His voice is beginning to retreat back to its earlier gruffness, his expression to its earlier reserve. "I think it was a very fine idea, anyway," Neva volunteers. Another stretch. "Tiring one, though. How long have we been awake?" Tance blinks at that, and the look he gives the younger Singer is a slightly helpless one. He holds out a hand for a moment, and bobs his shoulders in a bit of a shrug. If you pay attention to it, the crystal resonance can be heard coursing through your body at all times. A little yawn, and Neva curls up slightly in her chair. "Just a little tired. S'pose it doesn't matter." Tance blows out a breath, as Neva settles back in that seat of hers. "Um," he mutters awkwardly, "don't, uh, let me keep you from sleepin', girlie..." You can detect some crystal resonance in your bones. "Hard to sleep, anyway," Neva admits. "Nightmares. And odd dreams. I know it's just remembering, and I'll eventually get everything back, but in the meantime... it's very uncomfortable." Tance frowns, silent for a very long moment, till at last he echoes, "Nightmares." It's not quite a question, not quite a statement. It is, however, an odd tone of voice. The younger singer casts a rueful smile to her companion. "Not all of us have the option of forgetting everything. I haven't lived a fairy tale. The bad things just come back in the worst ways." [The conversation doesn't go much farther past this, as the two Singers soon succumb anew to the demands of their sleep-craving symbionts. To be continued...]