Date: Wed Nov 29, 2000 1:21pm Subject: Bobo's Makin' Babies? (part 1) Logged by Raschid. The vehicle idles near the destination, waiting for clearance. Raschid begins to drum his fingers impatiently on your thigh Arra asks softly, "Do you want me to behave as I would to a Bajazet master?" The driver turns to the passenger area, "Clearance has been granted." The limousine decelerates steadily and comes to a smooth stop. You say, "I'm not sure how that is, dear. Act yourself. I have faith in your abilities." Arra smiles, "Yes, Master." Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#644RntJ) A wide plascrete roadway loops in a semicircle before the front gate of the Harkonnen Embassy where ten slender flagpoles, each flying a large blue banner, tower over the drive. A three-meter-high, spiked wall surrounds the embassy grounds and, set into the wall, are two massive, embossed fanmetal gates, topped by short spikes. The entrance to the embassy is guarded by four Harkonnen troopers in blue and silver dress uniforms, maula pistols held at port arms. Ground traffic busily fills the loop, picking up and discharging passengers. In the center of the loop is a huge granite statue of a springing ram. Objects: Rastanyev Limousine Exits: Slidewalk leads to Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain) Fanmetal Gate leads to Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Arra exits the Rastanyev Limousine. Arra has arrived. The Rastanyev Limousine departs the area. Raschid raises a brow once again as he spies no greeting party. You walk through the Fanmetal Gate. Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) The roughly circular outline of the vast embassy garden is hidden beyond a wild tangle of flowers and plants. A stone path snakes from the outer walls of the embassy grounds, past a chain of lilyponds and hedges, up to the doors of the embassy itself. Other footpaths stray deeper into the garden, amid the white bitterblooms of Giedi Prime that lend the garden its name. One trail leads the way to a gently sloping hill topped by a folly of Giedi marble columns. Moss-covered stone steps reach up the hill in a zig-zag pattern, bordered at every turn by marble statues and plascrete urns overflowing with inkvine and translucent roses. An artful fountain, fashioned to resemble a natural brook spilling over smooth stones, is set into the side of the hill. A dense profusion of flora from many worlds creates intimate arbors and bowers where vines and tree boughs are twined together and harbor small grassy areas or benches. Elacca trees shade the lilyponds where miniature alligators swim. A stand of Caladanian dogwoods shelter the bloom of fragrant black lotus. Topiary hedges form living partitions throughout the garden. A bridle path for horseback riding follows the curve of the surrounding wall, provided with a variety of terrains ranging from smooth, grassy field to steep, rocky slopes. The main building of the embassy is visible through the foliage from almost everywhere in the garden: a squat, ponderous structure built of white plascrete, with black ribbed buttresses supporting the weight of the whole structure. Exits: Fanmetal Gate leads to Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Burnished Doors leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Arra walks in from Traffic Loop through the Fanmetal Gate. Arra has arrived. Arra says, "Did you see the statue of the ram, Master?" Arra follows a couple of steps behind. Raschid nods "I did, dear." Arra walks to the south and passes through the Burnished Doors. Arra has left. You walk through the Burnished Doors. Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#492RatJ) The imposing domed hall is a tribute to the Harkonnen homeworld. Directly overhead, a star-shaped skylight filters daylight through thick red glass, casting an iron red radiance into the room like that of Giedi's muted, red sun. At night, a myriad of tiny glowglobes form constellations against the backdrop of the dark blue and silver dome. Underfoot, a mosaic of tiny floor tiles creates an intricate, spiraling pattern, like a river of azure and teal. Deep niches along the polished bluestone walls are lit by floating glowglobes and filled with bronze statuary depicting famous Harkonnen victories. Alternating with the niches are doors leading off into various chambers and, on the east side of the room, a broad majestic staircase leads up to a wide circular landing of white marble trimmed in gold. At the south end of the Hall, twin scantily-clad, blonde slave girls stand on either side of a pair of carved ivory doors. Players: Fahahd Arra Exits: Grand Staircase leads to Obeshev Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Translucent Doors leads to Grand Ballroom -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Spiral Stairs leads to Abulurd Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Ivory Doors leads to Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Burnished Doors leads to Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Arra enters a few paces behind Raschid. Raschid strides into the hall, glancing about. There's a Guard Sergeant at the door to greet the visitors. He gives a crisp bow, then straightens up to to address them. "My lord, my lady, if you will follow me?" His features are arranged in a bland expression. Fahahd just looked at you. Raschid nods once to the guard "I believe your Baron is expecting us." Fahahd offers a slight nod, a mere inclination of his head. "Indeed, my lord. This way please." With that, he pivots on one heel, and leads the way torwads the Salon. Fahahd enters the Salon as twin slave girls hold the ivory doors open. Fahahd has left. The twin slave girls hold the ivory doors open for you as you enter. Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Dark wood panelling and a low, beamed ceiling impart a close feel to this long chamber, but the mood is lightened by well-placed freefloating suspensor lamps and the small indoor fountain that bubbles in the center of the room. The fountain is a six foot column of greenish water splashing freely in a broad metaglass basin with a wide, bench-like rim. Along the western wall, a sideboard is arrayed with a wealth of food and drink for every taste. The buffet is repleneshed frequently by attentive slaves, eager to please. On the east side of the room, a low dais is lush with leafy potted plants and a spacious chaise lounge is hidden in the intimate shadows of the foliage. The rest of the room is furnished for relaxation and quiet conversation. There are two tables: a round-table for dining and a secluded-table placed off by itself in a dark corner. There is also a large, overstuffed couch, and a matching pair of suspensor-chairs. The floor is covered with thick rugs of dark blue and silver, and a heady blend of sweet-smelling smoke and exotic perfume fills the air. Players: Fahahd Exits: Sloping Tunnel leads to Arena Grandstand -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Embellished Portal leads to Dining Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Ivory Doors leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Arra enters the Salon from Giedi Hall. Arra has arrived. Arra tries to take in everything about the place without raising her glance from the floor. Raschid chuckles softly as he notices Arra's curiousity. Fahahd continues on into the dining hall, not glancing back. Fahahd walks to the south and passes through the Embellished Portal. Fahahd has left. You walk through the Embellished Portal. Dining Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) The Dining Hall is large enough to accomodate twenty-five guests comfortably. The walls are covered with polished pink marble streaked with black veins where oddly human figures perch on the ornamental cornices: small gargoyles of carved marble, each grasping a stone kindjal and a glowglobe. On either side of the grand doors stand white marble pillars. They are tall, decorative, and exactly alike in every respect, but mirror images of one another. The centerpiece of the dining hall is an immense rectangular table made of highly burnished black mahogany and ornately carved in a distinctive motif. High-backed, metal suspensor chairs surround the table. Chandeliers hang low from rosewood cross-pieces that square off the lofty ceiling. These three immense fixtures of ornate design cast a flickering light from a hundred tiny glowglobes. Situated in the center of the east wall, a huge oval metaglass window offers a view of House Harkonnen's private arena. Players: Fahahd Anakiel Malia Boris Exits: Metaglass Window leads to Arena -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Embellished Portal leads to Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain) Anakiel nods, and pats back to his seat, but doesn't sit. He looks back at the doors and seems to be on the verge of asking something, but the arrival of the mentat seems to abbreviate it, unsaid. Arra walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal. Arra has arrived. Raschid strides into the dining hall, almost as if he owned it. He glances about curiously, his eye's missing nothing. Fahahd leads in the visitors, face again blandly expressionless. Boris is seated at the head of the table, not bothering to rise when the guests enter. "Ah, Master Raschid, do join us, eh? We were about to have lunch, and I believe you're here to honor your debt, eh?" Nearby, on a cart stands the first course of the luncheon, a variety of finger foods: stuffed mushrooms, little wontons in meat sauce, roasted legs of some fowl, live crayfish in a steaming broth. Places have been set for the arrivals. Anakiel stands beside his chair, one hand on the back. He does seem to be waiting for the Rastanyev to seat themselves before he regains his seat, but then... he's not a noble, either. Malia has, now that she's set the extra places, taken up a position next to the cart of luncheon foods. She only glances towards the door and the newest arrivals out of the corner of her eye for the briefest of moments before directing her attention back to the floor. And oh, what an interesting floor it is. Arra bows to those present, keeping behind and to the right of Raschid. Raschid smiles as he spies the Baron, he bows deeply "Indeed, Baron, as I said the other night. I always honor my obligations." He glances at the table, noting the place settings. "Are you quite sure we would not be imposing?" Fahahd drifts back to stand behind Anakiel's seat, as if he were the youth's personal attendant. He watches the guests with an opaque, agate-green stare. Boris gestures impatiently, "No, no, sit. D'you know Anakiel Teslan, my junior attache? Who is your lovely lady?" Arra hurries to pull out Raschid's chair for him, and though she keeps her gaze lowered, she smiles as she waits for the Mentat to be seated. Raschid smiles and nods to the Baron, "Thank you." He glances to Anakiel. "I have not had the pleasure, yet." He moves to take his seat, smiling at Arra. "I picked her up from the Bajazet's, Baron." Anakiel offers a fluid, almost boneless bow to the Mentat and his companion as he is introduced. Boris raises a brow. "The Bajazets? I should have known. I'll give them this, they do know their merchandise. You're...engaged to marry a slave?" The guard can't entirely conceal a momentary expression of shock, though it's gone so swiftly as to be almost unnoticeable. ..apparently he recalls Arra. Malia doesn't react whatsoever. One may wonder if she's even listening from her post. Raschid laughs softly if good naturedly "She was freed from the Sultan's side as an obligation. Not all great Houses are as...ahem...understanding as the Harkonnen's are about such things so one must keep up appearances." If Arra notices any of the reactions, she is too well trained to let on. She merely makes certain that Raschid is comfortable and then sits down on the floor beside his chair. Boris shrugs, wondering about the wisdom of this, but for once holding his tongue. "So my Sylvie led you a merry chase, eh Master Raschid?" He gestures for Malia to begin serving the diners. Fahahd cocks his head at Boris..but then remembers the bet in Revellers. He casts an unreadable glance at Anaikel. Raschid smiles "She did indeed, Lord Baron. Ah...but I suspect it was not the first time she has run that race.." Boris says, "You're quite the Mentat, to think so, eh?" Anakiel settles into his own chair once Raschid is seated. He folds his hands neatly in his lap and just listens with a placid air. Malia turns, and taking hold of the end of the cart, wheels it towards Boris. She's not used to actually serving a luncheon...taking a stab in the dark, he seems like the most logical to begin with. She draws the cart to a smooth stop next to him. Raschid reaches down almost absently to stroke Arra's hair as he says, "I think the Lady de Biencourt, does not like to lose, and would not make a bet she did not suspect she has a better than average chance of winning." Raschid observes the whole process with obvious curiousty. Arra leans against Raschid's leg, closing her eyes briefly as he strokes her hair, but never really withdraws her attention from what is going on around her. Fahahd is nearly as motionless as the carved gargoyles, save for the rise and fall of his breath. He gazes off into space, as if unaware of those present. Anakiel is very much aware. Or at least he gives the appearance of such, though it's very easy to overlook him as 'pretty decor' as he's silent and barely moving, if at all. Boris laughs merrily. "How she does like to win, eh? You've gotten that much correct, my fine Mentat. And what else does your finely trained mind tell you?" As Boris goes on with his conversation, Malia takes another stab in the dark. She -is- normally the Nanny after all! Reaching forward, she silently picks up his plate before straightening. She begins to select tidbits for the beginnings of teh Baron's lunch. Raschid chuckles as he observes the proceedings, his hand still toying with Arra's hair.."Many things, Lord Baron. Your frequent trips upstairs, I suspect were to obeserve the goings on below, shall we say? Unobserved? The Lady, is quite the gambler, perhaps even with that she values most. I of course have extensive dossier's on everyone present, but then again that never compares to first hand intelligence does it, Lord Baron?" Fahahd can't help but look dubious at the idea that another House's mentat has any great fund of information on a Harkonnen commoner guard. But he remains politely silent. As Arra continues to relax against the side of Raschid's chair, she worries at a small poultice on her upper arm, rubbing away some of the crude ointment that covered a cut there, and watches Malia serving the lunch. Boris scoffs, chuckling to himself. "Dossiers. I'm sure I wouldn't wipe my nose with Rastanyev dossiers, Master Raschid. I find the only way to really know someone is to look them in the eye, eh?" Fahahd lets his gaze flick to the girl and her wound, before looking back to the Baron. Raschid laughs good naturedly and nods to the Baron "As I said, Lord Baron, nothing like first-hand intelligence." He looks to Fahahd, having noticed his glance. "Tell me Guard-Sergeant, is your father still a game keeper?" His attention returns to the Baron without awaiting an answer." <> Malia leans forward once again as she finishes preparing the Baron's plate, setting it carefully in front of him. Without waiting to be told, she reaches for the jug of wine which had been left on the table, intendnig to fill the Baron's to avoid having to return to do it again for some time. That odd green gaze darts to the Mentat, momentarily even more beilwdered than usual. "Indeed he is, my lord," he replies, smoothly. Arra flicks her veiled glance from Malia to Boris, studying the Baron from beneath her eyelashes. There must be something about Malia. For the second time in a compairatively short period of time, she does something that any slave in the Baron's...employ hopes never to do. As she pulls the jug back to pour his wine, her elbow catches the goblet she'd been meaning to fill, and oh, imagine that, it spills. Crimson liquid immediately splashes out of the goblet as it falls and hits the table, hitting the slave, the Baron and the table. Instantly, Malia freezes, her eyes widening rather like the plates on the table. Boris holds out his empty goblet for Malia to refill. "If you're done with your parlor tricks, Master Raschid--" he ends in a roar as the wine spills over his arm and tunic front, rising from his chair with a curse. Anakiel blinks vaguely, then just covers his face with his hand. Oh, not again. The slight smile never leaves Raschid's face as he carefully observes the proceedings. His hand pauses in Arra's hair. It doesn't take but a moment for Malia to step back, staring at the spreading stain on the table in growing horror and fear. She doesn't drop, nor set down, the jug she'd been holding, and at least she remembers herself enough not to actually look at Boris as she steps back from him once again. She always was such a good nanny...you'd figure they'd learn, and not put her on serving duty. Arra tenses and rises up slightly on her knees, as if to get up and help, but she looks to Raschid before moving further. Boris hisses, "Sergeant, correct Malia! Now, damn your eyes! Across the face." Raschid glances down and slightly shakes his head. Arra subsides back into place, but she waits in fascination for the Sergeant to punish the clumsy slave. Without a moment's pause, the guard reaches the slave in one stride. One hand lashes out in a back-handed, close fisted blow...it connects with a clearly audible *crack*. Seems she'll get a bruise to match the one fading on him; at least her jaw isn't broken. Malia stills her retreat, knowing that will only make it worse. The jug in her hand can be seen to shake ever so slightly as she waits for the blow she knows is coming. She dosen't have to wait long, and as Fahahd's hand connects with her face, the force of the blow sends the pale slave sprawling, the jug flying from her hand to shatter and spill its contents not far from her. Maybe she should have put it down. Oddly enough, she utters no sound, yet. Boris nods, wiping at his arm and tunic with a cloth, then hurling it to the table. "I've warned her before, eh?" he tells his guests. "I'll have her corrected properly for her carelessness." He gestures to Fahahd to carry out his orders, out of sight. Fahahd is equally silent, as he stands above the 'corrected' slave. At the Baron's orders, he plucks his com from its place on his belt and murmurs into it: orders for one of the slavers to come up and retrieve his erring charge for further punishment. He'll dirty his own hands no more than he must. Anakiel remains....furniture, really. He doesn't seem affected at all by the display, really, one way or another. He just sits there. It's...actually sort of eerie, in a way. Raschid smiles at the Baron, with no trace of sarcasm in his voice he says, "Perhaps my pet could serve us, Lord Baron? Since your's seems..ahem...shall we say, indisposed at the moment?" Like a particularly obsequious genie from a lamp, one of the younger slavekeepers scuttles in and heads for Malia. Malia manages to prop herself up on both hands, her head hanging forward so that her hair shields her face from view. "No..." she whimpers softly, fighting tears from the heaving of her shoulders, though they must be silent tears as she continues, "N...no my Lord B..Baron, please...>" Arra loses interest in Malia once the punishment has been delivered and returns her attention to the Baron without ever lifting her gaze higher than the edge of the table, her head resting against Raschid's knee. <> Boris scowls at Raschid. "No, no, not in my house, eh?" he waves off Arra. "Not all my slaves are so poorly trained, you know. You may recognize this one, eh? In a former life, she used to run the Imperium." He gestures over at her, impatiently, not deigning to answer her pleas. "Look at her now. She's a lovely thing, but she just doesn't seem to catch on well.." Raschid laughs good naturedly ignoring the Baron's scowl "Well, Lord Baron. Not all train so easily, especially after a certain age, it seems." Malia tips her head back, not bothering to wipe the blood that drips from her lip down her chin, the red mark on her cheek large, and quite noticable. Indeed, she will have a bruise come tomorrow. As the young slavekeeper takes hold of her arm, preparing to pull her to her feet, she quickly adds, voice trembling only slightly as she stammers, "P..please, my Lord Baron...it...will kill the ch..child..." Did she just say...child? Raschid blinks once, as if processing a tidbit of information. Fahahd stiffens, eyes narrowing to slits as he peers at the slave. Child? What is this? He looks to the Baron, like nothing so much as a a hound awaiting his master's orders. an excuse to wrap up." Boris narrows his eyes. "Child? What's she on about, Sergeant?" Arra smiles slyly and forgets her place enough to brave a look at the Baron's face. Fahahd's voice is low and chill. "Explain yourself, slave," he orders. Cabal walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal. Cabal has arrived. Malia swallows, the tears visable in her eyes as she has the absolute -gall- to look directly at the Baron before switching quickly to Fahahd and then directly to the floor. "I..I am with child..." she whispers, pulling her knees closer to her torso, simpply in case Boris rumbles, "On your feet, Malia. Are you carrying some get of Andrei's?" Fahahd flicks a glance to Boris. "Did that mating with the gladiator ever take place, my lord?" Raschid raises a brow at this information and clears his throat You say, "Lord Baron? Perhaps I can leave our wager with your Factor?" "I...no, my Lord Baron." Malia responds quietly as she forces herself to push up onto her knees, her arms trembling as she then stands. Her gaze never leaves the floor. Cabal strides in brooding less than usual as if he's in a good mood of sorts, which makes one wonder who just died. He approaches the assembly and is in the middle of offering a bow to the Baron when parts of the conversation make their way into his realization, and a slow, simmering frown develops on his worn face. Fahahd stands close by a tearful Malia, giving the Baron a momentarily perplexed look. "Then whose is it?" he demands. Anakiel sits a ways down the table from everyone else and is doing his very very best 'don't notice me' impression. Wrapping her arms protectively around her midsection, just in case someone lashes out at her, Malia answers very quietly. Quite probably too quietly to be heard. Her gaze does, for those observant enought to notice, flicker to the Baron for the briefest fraction of an instant. "Speak up, woman," the guard orders wearily, cocking one hand as if tempted to land another blow. Boris gives Raschid a curt nod. "If you must go, Master Raschid, please do. And a bottle of wine was mentioned? I'll take a bottle of your Rastanyev akvavit instead..." he turns back to Malia. Cabal just looked at you. Malia flinches back from the motion, raising her voice just enough so as to be heard. "I believe...it is the Barons..." She closes her eyes, so as not to see a blow when it comes, ducking her head slightly. Raschid smiles "No offense Lord Baron, but the wager of wine was between myself and the Lady Sylvie. I will however be happy to have a bottle delivered to you, compliments of our House." Boris looks like he's been struck, blinking, brows raised. Anakiel looks a little confused, himself. Not that a soul is looking at him at the moment. Fahahd stiffens as well, face smoothing out into a mask. He lets his hand fall to his side. Arra rises up from sitting on the floor to whisper to Raschid. Boris rumbles, "No..." Then he shakes his head with a laugh. "Well, why bloody not?" he asks himself. "Eh, Warmaster, why bloody not?" he demands, more loudly this time. Arra whispers, "I have herbs that will...fix that problem." Arra looks quickly at Malia, then back to Raschid. The Warmaster spares a disapproving glance to everyone in the dining hall, save the Baron, but dwells on the Rastanyev Mentat for a moment of careful appraisal before turning his attention to the scene at hand. As Cabal moves forward to make his presence better known, the slight flicker of distorted air can be noticed indicating his shield is on at a lower setting. As Boris addresses him, he faces the Mentat more fully as he draws his intimidating kindjal to inspect it, "A very good question indeed, My Lord Baron, and the Mentat had better answer it I think." Raschid leans in to Arra, listening intently while speaking into his com unit. He nods to Arra once. Malia slowly cracks open a single eye as no fist to her face is immediate. She doesn't look happy about what she's just said. How she can know who's childi t would be is a good question. Facing the Baron again, the guard asks softly, "How shall we dispose of this, my lord Baron?" He seems decidedly skeptical of the slave's claim concerning the paternity of her child. Boris tells Fahahd, "We'll have to have the Suk look into this, of course, and confirm the parentage. Of course, it will not go well for sweet Malia if she's lying about all this, eh?" He steps forward to loom over the slave. Sen walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal. Sen has arrived. Malia pales even further, if that's possible, as Boris stands over her hunched form. Silently, despite how disgusting it may be for her, she prays she has guessed the parentage of the child correctly. Sen swings the portal door lightly open and shuts it quietly behind her. Fahahd repeats his earlier question, "My lord...was she ever bred to that gladiator?" He favors the slave with another glance and a slight shake of his head. As Sen enters he bows to her, slightly. "Swordmaster." Anakiel sits at the table, some distance away from everything else...since he was seated nominally at the foot of the table anyhow. Right now...it seems to suit him -just- fine. Sen flicks her wrist, shooing Fahahd's attention away from her. She doesn't want to intrude. Boris tells Fahahd, "I believe Hektor was being punished, Sergeant; hardly in any state to breed, eh? No, she may be correct. Won't that be grand? A child by me." He laughs warmly, clearly enjoying the prospect. Raschid smiles and gently places the linen on the table before rising slowly, his eyes never leaving the Warmaster's. "I beg your pardon? I was unaware of any questions, that your Baron had directed to me. Would you care to elaborate?" Fahahd's nod is faint, as he eyes Malia speculatively again. "Shall I have her taken away for examination now, my lord?" he asks, voice still low. Arra gets up when Raschid does, wondering what she missed.