((Logged 5/27/01 by Dirah, Incomplete))
Ah, another day, another new bit of business to deal with. And what was it today? New goodies, straight from Kislev? Well, Dirah couldn't speak all that highly of the timing, with some sort of resistance threatening to hurl itself at the base any moment now. But, cutting it awfully short or not, one had to applaud Kislev on its productivity. After all, they've cranked out a remarkable amount of mock-pirate accessories in a remarkably short time. Well, so it goes. At least there isn't enough to really honestly complain about. And it is with this sort of indecisive attitude- as its rather rare for Dirah to not know whether she should be frustrated or overjoyed at something- that Dirah enters the Gear dock, almost not seeming very attentive at all of what lies in the massive docks that wasn't here before.
Tifa is already within the dock, finally inspecting the new arrivals. Her face could be akin to that of a child on Christmas day, in this respect. Finally, this is her own Andvari, to match her counterpart's. Of course, she knows it's not an Omnigear, and probably nowhere near as powerful, but still, it's so exciting to her. She turns her head and spots Dirah, waving to her, as a sign to come over there.
"Hm?" Movement? Oh, wait, that's right. Dirah came here for a reason other than trying to figure out if its praise or scold worthy, didn't she? Well, no matter. For with that gesture of Tifa's, Dirah takes to walking a little faster, making her way across the rather expancive room to see just what's gotten Tifa, so, well, worked up. She hasn't looked quite this giddy in a while. And as Dirah approaches she does glance up finally , to the massive Gears that are lined up like so many dolls here, and realizes that.. A number of them are new. With that little bit of a double take, she pauses, and turns something of a stare to the metallic figures, "What -do- we have here?"
Tifa smiles at Dirah, "Aren't they splendid?" her tone is just as prevalent as her expression, conveying an almost childlike excitement at the gears. "They came earlier...and there's one for each of us...well, almost. Daniel isn't with us anymore...but we have his gear now," she crosses her arms.
"They certainly -are- impressive.." And that is said in a quiet tone of surprise yet as Dirah glances up at the Gears, realizing what these are and a little short of words for it. What.. perfect little replicas. Likely nothing comparable in power, of course, but.. After a moment Dirah finds her voice and adds, with all the security as if she were not ever stunned at all, "I don't think I could tell the difference between these and the real things. And.. will Ceren be responcible for Daniel's Gear, then? Although it might be a hard Gear to get out of here, depending on the ruse we chose for dealing with our potential departure from this Fort.." And a shrug. And she adds, a little more quietly and a little characteristically out of sorts sounding, "Looks like I get the least impressive looking one, as always.."
Tifa peers at Dirah a moment, "Well, we have to use Daniel's gear for -something-," she crosses her arms and thinks briefly. Dirah's complaint about her gear not being impressive looking wasn't much of a surprise to Tifa, but she's sure OllDauchi's at least practical, and boggles as to why that doesen't seem to matter to Dirah. Oh, well. "...speaking of the ruse...how is Princess Khiea doing?"
Practicality? Huh? This is Dirah we're talking about. And she doesn't have twelve full length mirrors lining wall to wall of her room because she values practicality over looks. But she contentedly ignores any odd glances she gets for her comment and nods mildly, "True. Maybe we can sneak it out early. It'd be particularly useful if we wanted to make it look like the Princess found new loyalties..." And, er, speaking of the princess.. She gives Tifa the -oddest- look upon mentioning her, and shakes her head a little sadly, "How's she.. doing?" Ew, bad question. For that scene is a liiiittle too clear in Dirah's mind right now for her to say anything more than a short, and a little unnerved sounding, "She's a potentially dangerous lunatic. Is that any difference from before, or is she just getting worse about it?"
Tifa 's expression falters a bit, as she hears this. She turns completely to just -stare- at Dirah. "...Dirah, forgive my blunt manner, but what in the hell are you talking about? You know the princess is perfectly sane!" Well, there are a lot of things to describe Khiea, but she's not a dangerous lunatic! "Are you alright, Dirah?"
Dirah 's being stared at? No problem there. For she fixes Tifa with her own boggling look, that expresses in one arched eyebrow the complete of 'What are you talking about?' "Am I all right? Why wouldn't I be? I quite meant what I said!" And a little offended 'hmph'- how dare anyone doubt Dirah! She's always quite entirely right, after all. And, well, at least with this situation, she knows what she saw. And why she has bruises on her shins. And she brushes her hair aside a bit irritably and continues in a similar sounding tone, "I did think she was -somewhat- sane, if not.. severenly mentally stunted. But she's certainly not 'perfectly' sane. Why, the little demon tried to attack me just the other day! And she has to be the moodiest creature on this earth, too. Ech, what a pain!"
Tifa blinks slowly, "Now, not to say I would doubt you...but why would the princess attack you? Did she try to cast Ether at you or something?" she somehow has the oddest premonition that Dirah is exaggerating or not giving her all the details. "Are you -sure- you're alright?"
"I'm -fine-!" Dirah repeats, a little more loudly and a great deal more irritated. Hey, whose opinon are you going to trust here, Tifa? Your second in command, dear mentor and brilliant tactician or the little spaz you picked up in the middle of a dusty Dazil road? And she crosses her arms, rather irritably, "I don't know -why- she attacked me. If I did, I wouldn't be calling her insane, would I? I swear, the kid just ran up and kicked me in the shins, accusing me of breaking her stuff and calling me the oddest, rather foreign sounding name." A pause for a little sigh, and she adds, almost to a defencive whine, "I've got the bruises all up and down my shins to prove it. The kid's just -warped-."