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Larissa on the Queen

Index | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | Larissa on the Queen

The door opened quietly, and a woman in a flowing dress stepped through the door into the salon where Larissa was keeping her own company. She hummed lightly to herself as she entered into the room and did a quick scan, spotting Larissa and smiling radiantly.

She looked to be in her early thirties, with straight dark hair pulled back and tied with a blue ribbon, and spoke with the accent of Amber City rather than the lilting notes of the other girls who came from Cornaro.

She offered forward the silver tray she was carrying with various bite-sized delicacies. "Is there anything I can do for you, M'lady? If you're waiting on your companions, you might p'raps like a game of Chess?"

Larissa, at the eye of a storm of papers, all covered in equations or line drawings, glared at the intruder until she noticed the tray, at which point her expression lightened considerably. "Chess is a solved problem, and thus lacking interest," Larissa said, helping herself to a morsel that seemed reasonably safe. "I'd think well of a meal, however. Vegetarian. For the chef's reference, neither chicken nor fish are vegetable matter. Thank you." And she went back to her work.

"I shall arrange that for you," she replied politely. She put down the tray within reachable distance trying not to disturb the papers while doing so.

She then set about collecting a few stray glasses and tidying here and there at the periphery of the storm. "It is the interaction rather than the potential problem solving some people find interesting," she offered. "Do let me know if there's anything more we can do for you, M'Lady."

Her task completed, she then headed off to make arrangements for an appropriate dish for Larissa.

A short time later, there was a light knock on the door. "Your dinner, m'lady," came a male voice from behind it as the door opened slowly. A tall, lanky young man bearing a plate of steaming stir-fried vegetables over wild rice entered and politely waited near the door for permission to approach. Based on his uniform, he was not a waiter. The man was dressed in the attire more typical of the Ramblin' Queen's security staff. Based on the way he deftly handled the hot plate and accompanying bottle of wine, though, he had waited tables at some point in his life.

Larissa set aside a sketchpad covered in calculations, and with a sweep of her arm, cleared a spot for the tray amidst the scattered papers. "Ah, my savior. I hope you brought a corkscrew, and a long stick with which to push food within my reach."

As he drew closer, the glow from the oil lamps lit the man's features. He was sturdy, but not overly muscular and of slightly more than medium height. His light auburn hair was combed neatly back behind his ears. Though he maintained the posture and manners typical of the Queen's staff, his blue eyes were mischievous and his smile easy-going.

"The corkscrew I have, m'lady, but you don't look dangerous enough for me to need the stick." He paused for the perfect beat, set the tray in front of her and smirked wickedly. "Are you?"

"Depends who you ask--though it's hard to get answers from the dead ones," Larissa said, smirking, her improved mood perhaps explained by the empty silver tray at her side. The man was even able to withdraw his hands without any trouble or toothmarks.

The man laughed. "It would be at that," he agreed. He took the wine bottle from the tray and produced a corkscrew from somewhere, though it did not appear he had reached into a pocket to do so. He deftly broke the seal on the bottle and began working at the cork. It popped smoothly into his hand. The young man poured the wine expertly into the glass for her perusal.

"The girls, they do wonder, though," he began as he poured, "if you might be so. Dangerous, I mean. They are not accustomed to one coming to the Queen to be alone." As he spoke, Larissa noticed the vestiges of an unfamiliar accent, a bit of a hanging on certain consonants, a shortness of the vowels. It was not an accent she had heard in any of the Golden Circle kingdoms, nor did it match any of the Cornaran employees she had met on the Queen so far. The man waited with a relaxed smile for her approval of the wine, and for a response to his comment.

"All the more reason to do it, then. I spend so much time making people comfortable that discomfiting them once in a while has its appeal." She swirled the wine around in the glass, sniffed, and took a sip. "Better than a kick in the teeth, as Morgan might say. What's the vintage?"

"A '95, M'lady. I leave it to Sergio to determine what to serve. I can pour but to choose? No," he smiled good-naturedly. He held out the bottle, offering to fill her glass. "Shall I pour?"

Larissa nodded permission. "You're not a waiter, and you're not Cornaran. Did I really frighten the staff enough that they sent security to feed me?" She apparently did not find the prospect particularly distressing, to judge by her grin.

Goran filled her wine glass and made a 'so-so' gesture with his free hand. "Enh. They're not sure. They were concerned enough to ask Vincenzo about it and he sent me in here, knowing I could do both. Waiter and security. Personally, I think the girls wanted to see if I would turn your head. A challenge of sorts." He chuckled at that, as if dismissing the idea as silly.

Head unturned, Larissa merely rolled her eyes and spread her napkin across her lap. She muttered something that didn't sound like Thari. "This. This is why I don't come to the Queen," she said aloud, and forked some stirfry into her mouth.

"You're so right, m'lady," Goran agreed as he arranged the wine and cleared away the empty tray, preparing to depart. "I tried to tell them that a woman such as yourself would not be impressed unless I could discuss quantum physics, capacitors and artificial intelligence." He shrugged as he turned toward the door. "They didn't seem to get it. Enjoy your meal, m'lady," he nodded politely as he grasped the doorknob.

"Transparent, but I'll bite," Larissa said, only sounding a little disgusted. "Can you discuss quantum physics, capacitors, and artificial intelligence? And if you can, why are you wasting your time as a bouncer in a whorehouse?"

At first, Goran had been prepared with a snappy comeback, but Larissa's last words made him bristle. The jovial smile disappeared and a marked chill seemed to come over the room. "That's 'security officer in an entertainment establishment', Lady Larissa," Goran corrected frostily. "And yes, I can discuss such things. But so can many others here. There's the difference. To answer your question, I'm here because I'm proud to be. Enjoy your meal, m'lady." He nodded crisply, flirtation at an end, and departed.

Page last modified on January 16, 2007, at 08:12 AM