(Logged 4/8/01-4/14/01)
In the middle deck of the ship, Tifa stands, staring a a picture posted to the wall. It was such a cute picture, but since Tifa can't draw...it didn't turn out as it should. She tilts her head at it, and nods, "Perfect!" she says, "Now I have something to do!" she takes several darts out of her jacket, and starts playing a wonderful game of darts with a really horribly drawn picture of Sigurd Harcourt.
With a mild yawn, Dirah walks down into this part of the ship. And while she is something of an early riser, and has been up for quite a while.. Apparently, its taken her just about this long to finish whatever vain primming she had to tend to in the restroom. Hey, these looks take effort, you know! And time! And excruciating care. And so, as Dirah catches sight of Tifa and her game of darts, she blinks, and casts a peculiar narrow-eyed glance at whatever she happens to be throwing at. With a pale murmer of, "Morning, Tif'.." She tries to reason out the pale haired picture at the wall. But, in all artistic liberty, its still.. Rather hard to sort out, "What on earth is that supposed to be?"
Something is terribly wrong with this picture. Why can't Khiea put a name to exactly -what- that is? And yet, she stumbles in with a rather weary look upon her face, and her arms crossed in a sort of insecure -puzzlement-. Looking quite like she didn't sleep well at all, her steps are slow and confused, as she glances around in utter wonder. This is strange. It looks like the Yggdrasil on the outside, but the decorations within seem... Well, they're different. Maybe everyone did a lot of redecorating? With a sigh, she pauses in her steps. Something is.. off. And she hasn't the faintest clue what. Yet at the same time she's sure that she should be worried... She glances up at the sound of darts, and blinks mildly at the two at the other side of this room. Quietly, she wagers a little, "Mister Bart...?"
"Of course, it's-," she pauses as she hears Khiea's voice, coughing. "Oh, geez," she says, in Bart-voice, "I think i'm getting a cold, think so, Sig?" she looks to Dirah, winking inuitively. She almost screwed up royally there...
"Its what...?" A blink, as Dirah glances up away from the picture to wonder at that other voice. Another voice? How peculiar, that doesn't sound like Ceren at all, much less anyone else of the crew... And she blinks, in quiet surprise, to note Khiea looking befuddled at the other side of the room. Wonderful. Dirah had almost had the good fortune to completely forget that they brought the Solarian princess on this ship under.. awkward conditions. Repressing a sigh- she certainly does not seem to -enjoy- the thought of playing up to character even on their own ship- she grants a mild, but rather tired looking smile, and notes, "Apparently so, young master.." Ah, repress that tone of displeasure. You can sigh about this later.
Khiea frowns a little bit, a sign of mild distress rather than anything signaling unpleasantry. She remains where she stopped, shifting her weight a bit uneasily, glancing about the area, as if to confirm a few worries, confirm a few doubts, "Um... Good morning, Mister Bart, Mister Sigurd..." She murmers quietly, holding her crossed arms a bit closer, as if to ward off a chill, "I, um.. Might seem odd for saying this, but... Did you.. Redecorate or.. or something?" A shift of her weight, heel to toe, rocking her weight but once in fretting, her voice always quite soft, "Because I don't remember anything, and.. Everything looks different and..." And they were doing odd things yesterday, and saying odd things.. This entire event seems -wrong-. And yet she does not put that into words. Not yet. That woudl be rude, wouldn't it? To accuse someone?
Tifa sweatdrops, "...Actually, yes we did. How do you like it? I designed it myself!" she chuckles lightly, hoping that would throw off the scent. The Princess wasn't as stupid as they led her to believe apparently. How were they going to pull this off? Oh well...she only needs to be with them for a while longer, right. She hopes she can keep the charade up till then.
Dirah almost flinches in responce to that. So she has some perception to speak of? This is going to make things.. Difficult. She casts a glance over to Tifa, level in its almost stern glance, a flicker of an expression that reads merely as: Dirah is not sure this is working or going right, and.. Just what are we going to -do- with this child? But it is brief, that little unpleasant glance, before Dirah sighs inwardly. And leaves the explanation to Tifa's. Adding anything will only make this sound more uneasy, more awkward than it is. Please, princess, just return to the oblivion that got you on this ship yesterday.
"Oh, its very nice, Mister Bart, although..." Although it looks awfully different and odd, and nothing quite seems as it ought to be. But that would be outright accusation, wouldn't it? And despite all that Bart apparently did yesterday, Khiea still does not think it, well... -Right-, to outright sniffle and scream 'What is going on?!' Throat still sore from yesterday's screaming fit, she merely lets that first comment die off where it lies. And then looks up, silver-blue eyes so full of confusion and a slowly growing shard of worry... For something is wrong. Khiea may be naive and trusting in the extreme. But stupid? Hardly. "Um.. Mister Bart? May I ask why.. Why you said such things yesterday? About.. About the princess. When you knew that none of those were true.."
Tifa sweatdrops, "....," that was a rather...difficult question to answer indeed. "We intended to...have you join us, from the beginning, so in a sense it was true...yes," she coughed. "Besides...we didn't expect you to not believe us...so you'll understand once you see for yourself," she adds.
Erk. Bad question. -Bad- question. And it takes every inch of Dirah's self control not to outright flinch at that question. Right. What's a good excuse as to why Bart was claiming that Khiea was someone else than she is? As to why he said she was against Solaris, when apparently she thinks otherwise? Hm... "Its.. part of a plan, child." And put that as kindly and gently as you may, and hope that this fits all into everything Tifa said. The last thing we need are problems in how this little explanation fits together, "We needed to have the people believe those things so that this plan would work. Its merely.. very complex." Will something that vague and that careful work? One can only hope Khiea is so easily placated of her fears.
Khiea is.. being patronized? Hey! She can understand complex things, too, you know! "Well, you could at least have -told- me, before you said such awful things about me out there..." Oh, and such a tone comes close to pouting, as she frowns only more over that wording. Too complex? Really! She might be childish, but... She shakes her head mildly, dropping that thought. This is all only upsetting her more and more. And its obvious, in her movements, drawing ever more fretful, "Once I see what for myself? What's going -on- here?" And she sighs, dropping her glance to the ground, a little bit annoyed, a little bit afraid. And quite weakly, she notes, yet afraid to accuse anyone of anything, especially loudly and obviously, "...Everything... Everything about this seems -odd-."
Tifa hmns, "Odd? It's not odd in the least, Khiea," she assures. "If we told you of the plan prior, you would have put yourself in danger trying to find out if this stuff about Luka is true on your own. Honestly, you've gotten us curious about that now...and we wanna help you find out. It's not so dangerous with all of us, right?" she smiles at Khiea.
Odd? Goodness, yet -another- bad word that Khiea shouldn't be thinking of. While reserving times in the back of her head in which Dirah will cheerfully be given the opportunity to drag Tifa aside and flail over what can be -done- with this obnoxious, prying girl, outwardly she only smiles, as mild and kindly as she can. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong. Listen to Tifa's assurances, then. For nothing, nothing is wrong. And think this not 'odd' again. "The Young Master is right. Wouldn't you rather not find out what's going on alone? At least this way, if it does turn out for the worse, you'll have someone with you."
Khiea blinks mildly, perplexed by this argument, and yet... So oddly comforted by it. That does sound awfully reasonable of them, doesn't it? Not particularly right, and things still seem to be falling awry of what they ought to be... But no matter how wrong, how utterly peculiar, all of this is sounding... The explaination they give is one without malice. And she does give a little smile at that, a rather shy expression and small. For still, she is unsettled.. But kindness given deserves kindness. "Oh, I understand..." While somehow you do not, and more reasonable considerations at the back of your mind do not find this acceptable at all, "That's very nice of you, then!"
Good, she can continue her blissful ignorance of the situation. That's only save one, though, there's bound to be more realizations that none of this falls into place. However, the longer they have her, the better...the more dischord they can cause!
Phew. Perhaps the princess did not answer with quite as much believe and enthusiasm as would be preferable, but Dirah seems content enough with the answer given. And the tension leaves her expressions a shade- although they are most certainly and absolutely still there, in whatever form of annoyance she's still cradling. After all, its such a -pain- having to pretend to be a man at the early, early hour of One in the Afternoon. Let's just hope this child remains delusioned as long as possible, to do the most possible damage as can be done in her absence.
Khiea merely smiles then, assured that she is -not- going to be as cruel enough as to press the matter further. Why keep asking them why things are different, why they're acting so strangely, why they say such odd things that they never seemed partial to before? It must be one very big plan, then! Now, if only her more reasonable part of her mind woudl believe that. Smiling, she nods, and walks over to them, finally, a tiny skip in her steps, as always she seems to do. Especially when forcing such joy about in an attempt to forget that everything is simply -odd-, "Wonderful, then! Sorry for being mean about it. So!" A grin, as she glances up at the poorly drawn picture, which looks, um.. Odd enough as it is. What's with the white clad, silver haired, one eyed, poorly drawn picture? "What are you playing darts at? There used to be this dartboard with a picture of father tacked up on it that was in the main room, but I couldn't find it! Whatever did you do with it? And who's this?"
Tifa sweatdrops, "A dartboard of your father?" she asks, looking at Dirah. She's at a loss on that. She coughs, "I think we took it down, since the peace treaty we had no need for it...but we might just dig it up again," she nods at Dirah, "Right Sig?"
Dirah glances up at Tifa in a glance just about as much lost. Er, right. Who would be her father, again? Why didn't anyone pause to reason that out? Is there a King of Solaris or something of the sort? Goodness. Stiffling the pained glance that wishes to draw across her face at such, Dirah quietly, vehemently wishes that this girl would -shut up-. The real Bart trying to reminisce at Dirah was obnoxious. This is obnoxious dressed up in frills, trying to look innocent while prying with a smile. "Ehm... Right, Young Master.." Don't even dare to say more. Would it require tape and a miracle to make this princess stop talking?
Uh-huh. Khiea glances back at them, away from the picture, with eyes just as innocent and wide, noting merely, "But I can't see why you'd do that. The peace treaty was with Miss Luka's branch of government and the area around Nisan only. Father didn't even have anything to do with the peace treaty." And she glances back, tilting a glance back at the picture, punctured with dart-throws along its form, "And even she had her moments in which she wouldn't mind a dartboard of father up." Glance, and glance more at that picture. And, softly, she murmers, "You know, this kinda looks like..." And she trails off, biting her lip mildly. This doesn't look right.
Tifa just stares at Khiea, "...of course, Khiea," she begins, "However, it seems you've tread the wrong line now," she throws a dart at Sigurd's "portrait" and sighs. "...You should have just stayed quiet, Princess," she looks at Khiea, clearing her voice. Suddenly, her voice changes, much more soft and feminine. Quite not fitting Bart, "...You will be staying with us, princess. That is that."
Dirah blinks mildly, not expecting Khiea's scrutiny, and expecting Tifa's reaction even -less-. Aha, so its time to just drop this entirely, then? Wonderful. Which means Dirah can finally brush her bangs from her face- despite how needless such is- in an expression of vanity all her own and none of her counterpart's. But... Isn't this child rumored to have Ether? No need to worry. For it is only a moment until she reaches into her jacket, searching for the gun she has made a -note- to carry with her at all times, since that unfortunate meeting with Sigurd. We shall make sure this does not go sour and ruin all this work invested. And that false smile tumbles from her expressions, silent as she might.
Khiea stumbles backwards, swiftly as can be, as the dart is thrown at the picture she was glancing at so closely, eyes widening swiftly, swiflty in surprise. Oh, of course she expected that something was odd, but -this-... She but gives a tiny squeak of surprise nonetheless, staring up at the two with eyes as wide as saucers. And while there is surprise, she shakes her head quite sharply. And shrieks out, "I knew it! I knew something was wrong!" And she breaks into a cough, swiflty, voice too hoarse from yesterday to continue screaming now. But that determined anger does not leave her tone even as she drops it, as she tries to continue on through her rant, "That's so mean of you, to pretend you're Mister Bart! That's what this is, isn't it? You're not them at all!" No, not unless Bart had a sex change... On the other hand, let's not think about that as an option, "I don't want to stay though! That's so mean! -You're- so mean! I just was talking, and... and..." She sniffles. Oh goodness, not the crying, again. Although this time these are tears of frustration, of a most blatantly obvious embaressment. Why did she not know sooner? Or edge aside sooner and leave.., "That's so -mean-!"
Tifa bites her lip intentionally. Oh no, the crying again. She looks at Dirah, then at Khiea. If this continues, she's not gonna succeed in this mission. "Please, stop, please...," she pleads. She's not gonna make it as anything if she succumbs to someone crying like this. "Dirah, stop fumbling in your jacket and get a tissue, please," she asks, following with a sigh. Maybe this princess thing wasn't such a good idea.
"Stop...-" Dirah glances over to Tifa as if she had just said something utterly -insane-. Dirah is taking precautions against exploding children and -she- wants her to drop it all and find this sobbing twit a tissue? With an overexaggerated roll of her eyes, she stops searching for the gun and just drops her hands to her sides, noting with rather sharp irritation, "What? Oh, fine then, fine. You can have my regards then, if she blows you to shards. A -tissue-. Gods..." And, voice finally raised and away from that training, Dirah can not help but reveal herself as yet another one of this female acting force, not even of the gender asked of her role. But no matter to that, one supposes, as Dirah goes off to swiftly get a tissue, and returns to offer the thing to the sniffling child, "You know this wouldn't have happened at all had you shut up sooner." She notes, less than pleasantly.
"But you're all so mean and now you're going to hurt me, aren't you, and its not fair, to go around confusing people and saying you're Bart when you're not..." How on -earth- does Khiea manage to crank out that mouthful while she's sobbing, of all things? Bringing the art of childish, upset whines to an art, Khiea takes the tissue with a quiet murmer of a 'Thank you..' before she continues sniffling. And its more an expression of embaressment than any overbearing fear- although that exists in her expressions as well- as she dabs tears away aimlessly, only to have others fall. She gives up and only frets the tissue in her hands eventually, still complaining on quietly beneath her breath as if she were suddenly the Moral Goddess of the spoken world, "I should -not- have shut up earlier. Then you would have let me continue acting like an idiot..." And yet, how often does Khiea act sane? Let's not throw in fact in this already confused scene.
Cerencia has arrived.
Tifa sighs, "...but...I have to do this. You think I wanted to look like this?!" she looks down at the ground. "I do, though. What else can I possibly do? Yes, it's mean, but I have to! I do!" she looks up at Khiea. "...there's nothing else I can do...and you, Princess. You will stay with us until we decide to let you go."
"You don't have to -justify- yourself to her, Tifa.." Dirah notes, almost grumbling, as she crosses her arms mildly. Well, at least she's not cringing from the tears anymore, right? Well, er, mostly. If screaming out why she must be what she is counts as 'dealing with it'. But, taking Dirah's disaproval is seldom factored into -anyone's- cares or decisions on what to do, she merely shakes her head mildly, as if such could keep her hair from her face despite all styling, and adds, "Princess, I'm sorry if your, ech.. 'Personally offended' or whatever you are, about this. But we have something we need to do and I'm afraid it requires that you stay here. And, preferably, stop crying. Its really not becoming at all for a girl your age." And Dirah is certainly one to tell people how to look dignified, taking her utter lack of any good fashion sense. But, um, don't tell -her- that, please.
And the third member of all this group upon the submarine arrives late, true, but bearing refreshments. Cerencia navigates around the door from the Gun Room with a tray in his hands. The steam from the teapot trails behind him as he walks, and a plate of cookies for their young guest has been thoughtfully added. "Young Master," Cerencia notes calmly, nodding to Dirah, "something to drink?"
"I -am- acting my age!" And that protest comes forth in a childish protest befitting of a first grader. For all the good that tissue is, it only serves to highlight her rather confused point as she buries her face in it, sobbing gracelessly. Such is her pitiful little display that she does not even really conciously realize- or at least, react- to the fact that someone else has entered the room. Unfortunately, however, her charming innocence seems to be failing as something useful. Very... quickly. "But I don't want to stay!" Oh, wonderful argument, Khiea! That will make them set you free in an instant. "I want to go home and be with Miss Luka! But.. but.. I don't want to be here. You're scary.. And besides!" Ah, finally she allows some logic to come forth- although, apparently.. Khiea has yet to actually allow a reasonable train of thought in general to guide her back to cheerful calm and show her that there is nothing to worry about. Bad logic, bad! Khiea wants to pout! "Besides, everyone will miss me so much.."
Tifa sighs, Dirah does have a point...but...but...ok. She has to do this...there's no way she can avoid it. She just hopes the poor girl isn't hurt too much, "I'm sorry, Princess. That...does not matter right now. They will see you when we release you, and that's when we release you. For now, think of this as a vacation, and try to enjoy yourself," she looks at Cerencia, come to think of it...she is thirsty, "please, and bring some snacks for the princess too," she turns to Khiea. "Would you like a drink?"
Now Tifa's humoring her? Well, as much as Dirah could go about insulting -every- approach that Tifa chooses to use in dealing with the princess, this is one that she can allow to drop. She casts a wave to Cerencia, no longer in the least bit in character, "Something to drink would be nice..." And so would a large and heavy object with which to shut Khiea up. And with a quizzical glance, she narrows her eyes mildly on the princess. "Oh, nonsense. You're far too old to be bawling like that. Keep your head up, girl! Its not like we're going to kill you or anything, after all. Just calm down and shut up and this will be a perfectly enjoyable trip for all of us, understand?" No, Dirah is not one to deal -well- with children.. But at least she's attempting to do so. Although.. Tips on how young women should act are hardly the sort of thing one wants to get from a lady dressed up as a man, after all.
Crying children. What -was- it about them that set Cerencia's jaw to firm and his eyes to narrow sternly? But such is not out of cruelty. "Come now, child," he states in a voice as even as steel. He is easily old enough to be her father--and in comparison to the other souls Ceren has helped raise, another is not so strange. Ceren strides to Khiea's side and grips the napkin off the tray to wipe at the princess's face. "You'll make yourself sick like that. Now have a cookie and calm down." After this does he remember his own place with Tifa, and nods to her. "The tea will be ready in a moment. Would you like one of the cookies?"
What...? Khiea glances up to Cerencia's calm words with those wide silver eyes, already touched mildly in rose from tears. And Dirah's words to stand tall and act her age- neglecting that Khiea's age is quite less than it seems. And Tifa's insistance that this will be like a vacation... If Khiea's just been kidnapped- which every more rational explanation in her mind calmly notes she is, as if it weren't of consiquence- this has to be the -oddest- group of kidnappers she's ever seen. And that's not even considering the fact that they're dressed up as the Yggdrasil crew and two are female. These people are.. -Nice-. And she sniffles, nodding numbly in responce to the general cheer of those about. This would be rather creepy, if it weren't oddly calming. "T-thank you.. Cookies would be nice.." And she tries to draw her tears to a close, looking a little less pitiiful and a little more bewildered, as she shyly glances up to Tifa, "So.. you're not going to be mean to me, Miss, um.. Bart?" Nice way about how confused she is. "As long as that's it.." Then she can stay. Because its curious, what's going on. And she might as well find out while she can. Its not like she's far away from friends, if she suddenly feels like napping.
Tifa twitches, "...please...don't call me that," there's another neat soft spot to prod. "...Tifa will do nicely," she coughs. "...if anything, just be calm, as Dirah suggested. Your stay here wont be permanent, and everything will be fine, ok?" well, maybe except Bart's reputation, but is that not the whole point of this? Poor Bart.
Ah, yes, let's ignore Bart's reputation in this matter completely. Why bother, after all? The entire point of this operation was to ruin the well sitting being of the Yggdrasil in the first place. But, yes, ignore that. And Dirah snatches a cookie off of the tray Cerencia holds even as she offers them to Khiea, without the faintest thought as to whether or not that's socially polite, "There you go, Princess! No one's going to hurt you, so you might as well calm down." And she snickers mildly at Khiea's makeshift nickname for Bart, noting rather cheerfully, in that innate sadistic edge she always manages to hold, as she walks past Tifa, adding between muching mildly on the cookie she snatched, "Right, 'Miss Bart'?"
"Good. Now, be sure to drink the tea once you have it, or you'll have a headache in the morning." Ceren nods sternly, taking the teapot in one hand and pouring four cups as he steadies the tray with care. "I shall have your bed turned down later this evening, child, and a change of clothes for your convenience." Even if they are technically on opposite sides... a child was a child. And even if she was far younger in mental age than in physical. "Young Master," for that title is one which is as hardwired into Cerrencia's behavior as any other term of respect, "dinner shall be served in about an hour. Shall I set the table for four?"
Khiea nods mildly, all the more bewildered with every passing moment. Aren't people who kidnap people for the sake of destroying other people's reputation.. Bad? And yet these are the most hospitable kidnappers Khiea's ever seen. Not like she's much for meeting kidnappers, but... She dares a tiny smile finally, still acting a bit uneased and quietly shy. But there is no reason to meet kindness with unpleasantry, even if they aren't the most morally acting people she's ever seen, "All right then, Miss Tifa.." And she glances up and offers a small smile to Dirah, and one to Ceren.. Ah, it feels so odd to be polite to your captors! But she almost looks a bit guilty for throwing a fit and screaming in the first place. Perhaps she's just been confused out of her wits enough to just settle down to quiet submission. After all, she could.. Probably leave if she wanted to, anyway. Ether is a horrible thing to spring on perfectly nice people, though. And she's quieted enough, from confusion or politeness, to just quietly add, "Thank you very much, then.."
Tifa stands up, and sighs. "...Ceren, Dirah...we're going to have to discuss our next move soon...we can only sit around for so long," she straightens out her jacket a bit and looks down at Khiea. "...don't worry alright? Just enjoy yourself, time will fly and then it'll be time to go."