Log of Impromptu RP at Rastanyev Embassy

[House Rastanyev <rastanyev@yahoo.com>]

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Log file from Duneiii -- Ivanova.

Office of the Ambassador -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

	A large panoramic window, tinted slightly in blue, makes up the majority of 
the back wall. It provides view of the foliage outside in the gardens below. 
Directly in front of the window is a large mahogany desk, padded on the sides in 
bands with a blue leather material. A couple of chairs of a similar blue leather 
sit before the desk. Along the walls are several pictures depicting the landscape 
of Garrashu. Wide double doors to the east lead into the room.

Players:
 Ivanova                              
Exits:
 Double Door <E> leads to Second Floor Hallway -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

You hear a knocking coming from the Second Floor Hallway -- Rastanyev Embassy 
  (Kaitain)

Ivanova shouts, "Enter!"

Arn walks in from Second Floor Hallway through the Double Door.
Arn has arrived.

Arn enters with slow and careful steps. There is something different in his stance
  since you saw him before. He looks relaxed and his face is neutral, but there is
  a hint of subdued energy to him, showing in his eyes. And one of those is black
  and slightly swollen. Arn bows and says, "My Lady."

Behind a large archaic table sits the thin form of Lady Rastanyev. A slew of 
  papers are spread out across the top in almost a haphazard formation. Gripped in 
  each hand is a loose sheet or two. Her eyes turn to each of the sheets in turn 
  as she reaches for another, never once lifting them to acknowledge the person or 
  identify who has entered as she speaks, "Have a seat... I'll be with you in a 
  moment."

Arn stands completely still. After a short while he turns to the chairs, find one 
  to his liking and glides down into it. He is sitting on its edge, straight as a 
  sword, but still not seeming tense.

Arn takes a seat in a chair.

After a moment, Ivanova takes in a deep breath and lets out a small sigh. She 
  turns to look upon who is her guest. Her face, normally pale anyway, is ashen 
  and there are dark rings under her eyes from the many hours of no sleep she has 
  gotten. As recognition dawns upon her, Ivanova lowers the papers and folds her 
  arms across the top of the desk, "Sir Celestine... I had not expected you. What 
  can I do for you today?"

Arn tilts his head ever so slightly. He speaks in a clear voice bereft of any 
  musicality. "That remains to be seen, Lady. I am here to serve you. But, you 
  could perhaps answer a question for me."

Ivanova nods her head with a quick motion, "Of course... what is your question." 
  A warm smile spreads across her face as she listens intently.

Arn says, "When did Count Belgoth take to Zensunni wisdom?"

"Zensunni wisdom?" Ivanova's smile falls and her brow creases. She lightly shakes 
  her head and lets out a chuckle as her expressions ease, "I'm afraid perhap I 
  can not answer that... you would need to ask him yourself... why do you ask Sir?"

Arn calmly says, "I am apparently being instructed in a no-action way. Learning by 
  negation. Not having to listen to lectures. Not being shown anything. Not led by 
  the reins. Left to myself. In fact, it is as if I was non-existent." He pauses 
  to lick his lips. "This method is used in Orange Catholic shools. I have been 
  exposed to it before. An unbeliever utilizing the same technique, though, is 
  either wise or a complete fool."

Standing from her position, Ivanova begins to circle the desk. She finally ends 
  near the edge and takes up a half seated position upon the desk. Her hands are 
  folded before her as she asks, "I'm not... following Sir Celestine. Do you feel 
  that Count Belgoth has not given you adequate training?"

Arn smiles, but does not seem genuinely amused. "That is not for me to judge, My 
  Lady. I am only the raw recruit. I was only curious as to his methods. His 
  ultimate goals are not for me to know at this point, since it would taint the 
  ignorance necessary for any learning process. So whether he actually seeks to 
  educate me, or only to pass time, is irrelevant." Arn's eyes rise until they 
  meet Ivanova's. "I will learn in any case."

Ivanova raises an eyebrow slightly. She shifts a bit in her seat, "Then..." There 
  is a slight pause as she formulates her question, "... what exactly is it that 
  I might assist you with?"

Arn says, "May I speak frankly, My Lady?"

"I could ask for nothing else Sir Celestine." Ivanova returns a warm smile to her 
  face as she watches you.

Arn says, "The very definition of our profession, Belgoth has taught me, is that 
  of a hidden snake. Another is not to pay overly much attention to rumours, since 
  their true meaning is usually hidden. So, building upon this, but not intending 
  an insult, I would hear a rumour saying that you are a cunning manipulator and 
  from this extract intelligence on your skill and success as a diplomat, My Lady.
  Thus your lessons are more edifying than the good Count's. He is strong and 
  intelligent, but also overly proud of just these traits. A weakness that is 
  better not transferred to his pupils, do you not agree?"

Lifting a fist, Ivanova coughs lightly into the hand. She clears her throat, 
  tapping lightly against her chest before beginning. She lets out a light sigh, 
  "Forgive me... " A smile forced back upon her face as she speaks, "To say that 
  none of us are manipulators would be a falacy Sir Celestine... for each of us 
  there is an objective that we wish to achieve and each of us move the system to 
  meet our needs. I could pay the same insult or compliment to you and be 
  none-the-less closer to the truth."

Now a grin spreads in Arn's face, but it quickly fades, as if disintegrated by a 
  void of emptiness sucking the blood and warmth out of his flesh from somewhere 
  behind his button-like eyes. "But nothing matters like the truth." He pauses as 
  if to underline this. "I am trained as a Provocateur, yes. I see into the souls 
  of people. But I have no hidden objectives. Apples fall out of themselves when 
  one prods the tree."

"Of course..." Ivanova lets the smile linger on her face as she lets out another 
  sigh. "... judge me as you will then and you will probably be correct." A slight 
  shrug of the shoulders as she turns to look behind her at the desk to pick up a 
  piece of paper, "... for it seems that you've already made up your mind which 
  apple and tree I come from."

Arn blinks to himself, choosing words. Meeting Ivanova's eye again he softly says, 
  "My Lady, I know not your tree. Perhaps I see a bird on one of its branches, 
  posing as the snake we mentioned, but even that is only part of the picture. You 
  do allow your trunk to crack, though, and this could lead to rot. I understand 
  that Lord Valeri's title justifies almost any action, but do not loose your 
  balance. That which is within, is without."

Clearing her throat again, Ivanova hold the paper now griped in one hand before 
  her. She makes a weak smile as she answers, "EARL Valeri's... title is not what 
  drives my actions for he... on his own deserved all that the Faufreluches gave 
  him." Her eyes drift down to the paper in her hand.

Arn bows his head when rebuked. His gaze remains on her. "Then I only hope that 
  you realize where and what you are driven to, My Lady."

"Driven to?" Ivanova lifts her eyes from the paper and tilts her head slightly, 
  "An... interesting chose of words Sir Celestine. And what is it that you see 
  me... driven to?"

Arn smiles silently and shakes his head very softly. This smile also fades quickly.
  He remains still. There is a curious mix of tempered aggression and sadness in 
  his eyes.

In a similiar reaction, Ivanova lets the smile drop from her face as well. "Well...
  I see whatever it is that you feel I have been driven to you do not approve." 
  She begins to raise from her seated position at the edge of the desk, her eyes
  again directed down at the paper in her hand as she begins to take a step in 
  the direction that will again place her behind the desk.

Arn watches Ivanova maneuver herself as to place the desk between them. He lets 
  the silence continue for a few heartbeats. He then changes the subject, but 
  keeps his mild tone. "May I ask, My Lady, how you would let a flower bouquet be 
  composed if you were sending one for, say, young Lady Helen Atreides at her 
  reception ball?"

Standing at the edge of the desk still, chosing not to go back behind it again 
  completely, Ivanova looks towards you, "Flower bouquet?" She blinks for a moment 
  and then let's out a low 'oh'... the smile returning, "Well... we have some of 
  the most beautiful flora here on Kaitain within our gardens. You are free to 
  select any you wish there. I would recommend a wide variety... perhaps a mix of 
  different color roses?"

Arn nods. "A traditional choice. The rose has its symbolical value - as the flower 
  of youth, for instance."

"Or love..." Ivanova lightly whispers as she ends with a smile. She lets out a 
  small sigh again which ends in a slightly violent cough.

Arn says, "Yes. Perhaps it is because of its combination of sweetness and bite, or 
  because of the ancient parallell to certain female..." He abruptly cuts the 
  sentence off.

Ivanova creases her brow slightly, a small smile upon her face. "Ancient 
  parallel?" She waves her free hand, "Oh... you refer to stories such as Red 
  Rose, White Rose? or perhaps the name Rose taking on the feminine terminology?"

Arn pauses. "No, My Lady, I was referring to the now almost forgotten Book of the 
  Rose - a secular work allegedly written as an instruction on chivalry, but in 
  reality a manual on love-making... and the rose is an analogy of the female 
  sex." Arn's eyes rest lightly on the desk as he says this.

"I see... " Ivanova smiles lightly, "I've not heard of that work before... would 
  you happen to have a copy of it in your archives?"

Arn says, "I shall put the question to Master Demosthenes."

"Ah yes... Master Demosthenes..." Ivanova clasp her hands together before her, the 
  paper still wavering in front, "... another gentleman who feels that I am...
  _driven_." chosing to use your own words.

Arn leans back a bit and actually chuckles. "Perhaps it is wishful thinking, My 
  Lady."

"On the part of him, me or you?" Ivanova raises her eyebrows slightly. Without 
  waiting for an answer though she lightly shakes her head, "Is there... nothing 
  that I might do to improve your... opinion of me?" She sighs lightly, "I'm 
  not... evil Arn." Ivanova slips easily into a less formal name. Her voice 
  carries a tinge of sadness.

Arn hesitates, then shakes his head a little. "My Lady... you put me to shame. Who 
  am I to harbor such feelings?" He sighs. "I don't really know why I came here. 
  Partly to say what I have said, yes, but partly to open a channel of... 
  honesty." He straightens a little where he sits, unconsciously plucking at 
  something on the arm of the chair. "I must confess to despise certain aspects of 
  my training. The required two-faced cowardness and lack of goals makes me sick. 
  Having to slide around issues eternally, as not to step on tender toes." He 
  meets Ivanova's eye. "No, I am the one who should ask you for a chance to prove 
  my intent. To remedy this picture of an unpleasant stone statue that I must have 
  painted to you all this time."

"You are... anything but a stone statue to me Arn." Ivanova smiles lightly. She 
  looks down at the paper in her hand again and then nods, walking finally over 
  and handing it to you, "Do you know much about medicine?"

Arn frowns at the sound. "Excuse me for a moment, My Lady."

Ivanova retracts the paper slightly from it's poised position. She nods and then 
  turns to busy herself again with other items on the desk.

Arn irritatedly takes the call with an excusing glance to Ivanova.

Continuing what looks to be like piling the papers together, Ivanova continues 
  working at the desk. She lightly shakes her head to herself and bites on her 
  fingernail slightly as she looks over another sheet of paper.

Arn watches Ivanova under his brow as he speaks into the communicator. The colder
  emanations about him have long vanished by now and there is a note of concern to
  him.

Ivanova rubs absently at one eye in a downward motion as she stiffles a yawn. She 
  lets out a sigh and continues to collect the papers together until they are 
  mostly in one pile now.

Arn listens to some long, mumbled harangue emanating from his communicator. He 
  doesn't let his eyes leave Ivanova, and is getting visibly annoyed.

The communicator finally goes silent after a short, static click. Arn puts it back
  in his belt, collecting himself a little. He turns fully to Ivanova, raising an
  eyebrow.

Having finished her busy work, Ivanova turns about and leans against the desk. She
  folds her arms across her chest and watches you, waiting for you to finish.

Arn says, "Done, My Lady. It was the Earl Merx. He was enquiring of an issue I was
  to address, but which I haven't had the time to bring up yet." His eyes fall. "I
  must have lost myself in the moment. Anyway, the Earl is coming in person shortly
  to assist me. If there was anything you wished to entrust me with in private, we
  have very little time, My Lady."

Ivanova smiles lightly, "It was nothing..." Her eyes drop for a moment as her lips
  pull into a thin smile. If the air about the room could be described, it might be
  that of metal plates suddenly being errected about the Lady... any previous signs
  of tiredness, save for the dark shadows under her eyes, seem to disappear.

Arn performs a sitting bow. When he returns to upright position his face is a study
  of composed neutrality again. Only the black eye seems to emit some vague 
  emotion, and it is not mirth.

"Shall we meet good Earl Merx?" Ivanova extends a hand outwards towards the
   doorway.

Arn rises smoothly and walks to the door, opening and holding it for the lady.

Arn stands up.

Ivanova nods her head and turns to pick up the pile of paper. She carresses the
  sheets against her chest as she passes smoothly out the doorway.

You walk through the Double Door.

Second Floor Hallway -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

	The hallway is established in a semi-circular pattern, having several closed
doorways inset along the wall. Each of the doors are made of the same blue colored 
marble. A sofa of royal blue velvet sits in the center of the area, facing outward 
towards the staircase. The staircase itself makes a half-circular bend up to this 
landing from the Reception Room below. Across the expanse of the Reception Room, a 
large blue diamond shaped window presents a distorted, eye-level image of the 
outside.

Exits:
 Double Door <W> leads to Office of the Ambassador -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Blue Door <S> leads to Workroom -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Unmarked Door <N> leads to Office Area -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Grand Staircase <E> leads to Reception Room -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

Arn walks in from Office of the Ambassador through the Double Door.
Arn has arrived.

You descend the Grand Staircase.

>From below, Ivanova descends the Grand Staircase.
Reception Room -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

	Sparkling with blue from the diamond shaped windows, the vaulted ceilings of 
the grand foyer move upward toward a peak in the center. At the fore is the blue 
and gold rug that pads steps across the entry, and at the rear is the half-circular
grand staircase that leads to the upper floor. A vaulted archway opens to the 
north, where the dining room can be glimpsed beyond.
	Dotted with potted plants here and there, the reception room is interspersed 
with sofas and chairs ranging through many styles. In common is the royal blue 
velvet upholstery. Marble-topped tables stand at convenient intervals within each 
of the groupings, everything here seeming to bespeak refined comfort. Each element 
seems deliberately set to try to beckons the weary to sit down for a while and 
visit.

Players:
 Ivanova                              
Exits:
 Hallway <S> leads to Barracks -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Grand Staircase <W> leads to Second Floor Hallway -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Dining Room <N> leads to Dining Room -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Front Door <E> leads to Courtyard -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

>From the Second Floor, Arn descends the Grand Staircase.
Arn descends the Grand Staircase.
Arn has arrived.

Ivanova pauses for a moment and turns to Arn, "Please... go on without me. I need 
  to put these papers away first." She smiles lightly, a smile that seems faded 
  against the new armor about her.

Arn merely bows, the example of courtesy. "Naturally, My Lady. We will wait for 
  you in the courtyard, then, missing your presence every minute."

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from 
  vehicle 1870, bound for Rastanyev Embassy, requesting clearance, "Ambassador 
  Merx's party requests entrance."

Arn steps out through the front doors, to the courtyard.
Arn has left.

You clear the vehicle over your communicator.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been 
  granted for vehicle 1870, bound for the Rastanyev Embassy, by Ivanova."

You step out into the courtyard.
Courtyard -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)(#662RLtJ)

	Solidite echoes dully underfoot as one travels across the paving of the 
courtyard. The ornithopter pad is situated in the center. Quarter-circle arcs 
stretch out from the yard, down the hill to the northeast and northwest, 
respectively used as entrance and exit, the half-circle space between the paths 
flowing with juniper as groundcover, interlaced with narrow paths.
	To the north and south stretch the stone outer walls of the embassy proper, 
made more to feel like a low, traditional house, with the second floor smaller in 
area than the first, dotted with rows of orderly tinted windows, diamond-shaped. 
The roof slopes down into the walls themselves, concealed gutters keeping the 
nearly pyramidal structure irrigating the manicured lawns. Ringing the building's 
grounds is a stone wall, affording a modicum of privacy from passersby on the 
street just beyond.

Players:
 Iason                                              Arn
Objects:
 Atreides Staffcar                                 
Exits:
 Front Gates <E> leads to Sheuset Square -- Embassy District (Kaitain) 
 Front Door <W> leads to Reception Room -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)
The Atreides Staffcar departs the area.

Zhia steps out through the front doors, from the reception room.
Zhia has arrived.

Iason dips in a bow to Arn. "Arn." he replies, straightening a bit to repeat his 
  bow to the arriving Rastanyev party. "Lady Rastanyev, LAdy Iganamort, a pleasure 
  to be allowed the honor of your company this eve." he says in his smooth, 
  burnished voice.

Conversing lightly with Zhia at her side, Ivanova finally strolls out of the 
  Embassy. She makes a final nod towards the Ambassador and then turns to greet 
  the Atreides, "Earl Merx... I'm pleased to see you."

Arn bows to Zhia and Ivanova. As he straightens there is a glint to his black eye.

Walking beside Ivanova, Zhia pauses to dive into a graceful bow to Arn and Iason. 
  A bright smile is upon her face, "Good eve Earl Merx, Master Arn."

"Well... what brings you to our presence this evening Earl?" Ivanova smiles 
  lightly as she extends a hand of greeting out.

Iason's hands come up as he does, offered to Ivanova in a gesture of formal, 
  polite greeting, though showing no more than that. "Merely mindful of the 
  actions and troubles of my people, my Lady. Surely you, of all people, can 
  understand such things."

Arn clears his throat. "If I may interpose, My Lady," he adds to Iason's answer, 
  turned to Ivanova, "we were conversing earlier on fruit and how it might fall. 
  What we did not discuss was how others see it land. It is not a topic to be 
  discussed here, in front of whomever might stroll by." He nods suggestively to 
  the door.

Ivanova smiles lightly and completes her movement, placing a hand lightly against 
  Iason's arm as she leans forward to kiss the air near his cheeks in turn. As she 
  pulls away, she speaks, "Of course... come, let us go inside."

Iason's head bobs as he bows again, letting himself be led.

Zhia turns toward Ivanova, a curious look happens across her face. "Will m'Lady 
  need my presence?"

Ivanova makes a slight pouting motion with her lips before answering Zhia, "Yes my 
  dear... " she looks to one side towards the two Atriedes as she announces, "I'm 
  afraid that I need to finish tending to some business shortly."

Zhia sweeps into a brief bow, a slight grin across her face. "What ever you may 
  ask of me m'Lady, I shall grant."

Ivanova nods and then proceeds inward first.
You step into the bustling formal reception room of the Rastanyev Embassy.
Reception Room -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

	Sparkling with blue from the diamond shaped windows, the vaulted ceilings of 
the grand foyer move upward toward a peak in the center. At the fore is the blue 
and gold rug that pads steps across the entry, and at the rear is the half-
circular grand staircase that leads to the upper floor. A vaulted archway opens to 
the north, where the dining room can be glimpsed beyond.
	Dotted with potted plants here and there, the reception room is interspersed 
with sofas and chairs ranging through many styles. In common is the royal blue 
velvet upholstery. Marble-topped tables stand at convenient intervals within each 
of the groupings, everything here seeming to bespeak refined comfort. Each element 
seems deliberately set to try to beckons the weary to sit down for a while and 
visit.

Players:
 Ivanova                              
Exits:
 Hallway <S> leads to Barracks -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Grand Staircase <W> leads to Second Floor Hallway -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Dining Room <N> leads to Dining Room -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain) 
 Front Door <E> leads to Courtyard -- Rastanyev Embassy (Kaitain)

Arn steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Arn has arrived.

Zhia steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Zhia has arrived.

Iason steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Iason has arrived.

As she enters, Ivanova waves lightly to a couple of servants idling in the room. 
  They quickly raise, bow towards her and then scurry off. She turns then and 
  smiles to the guest, "Please please... have a seat."

Arn moves to stand beside a sofa and makes a small but elegant gesture towards 
  Zhia, not wanting to be so rude as to sit before her.

Iason moves silently, almost like a servant as he sees that the Lady Rastanyev and 
  Zhia are seated before him.

Zhia takes Arns gesture taking a seat at one of the sofas.

Arn places himself in the very same sofa as the lady Iganamort.
Ivanova settles gently into a large chair as she nods and waits for others to seat 
  themselves before beginngin, "Now... what is it that troubles you Earl Merx?" 
  Her voice takes on a very businesslike tone.

Iason glances at Arn to let him speak first.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from 
  vehicle 1870, bound for Rastanyev Embassy, requesting clearance, "Reverend 
  Mother Yadir calling up Lady Rastanyev.""

Arn seems oblivious to this. He has offered a pleasant smile towards Zhia and is 
  half turned away from Iason.

Zhia returns Arn's smile with one of her own, twisting around in her seat to get 
  herself comfortable.

Iason turns back to Ivanova, after also offering Zhia a small smile. "I believe 
  that there was a matter of how fruit fell being discussed.

You clear the vehicle over your communicator.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been 
  granted for vehicle 1870, bound for the Rastanyev Embassy, by Ivanova."

Yadir steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Yadir has arrived.

Ivanova turns and whispers lightly to a servant who then proceeds to run out 
  towards the doorway. The first group of servants return with a tray filled with 
  fruits and a pot of tea.

All occupants in the room are currently seated.

Robes swirling about her form, Yadir arrives, she takes a momment to orientate 
  herself. Although a servant has lead the way, by sheer presences she leads the 
  servant. She makes her way immediately to Lady Ivanova, "Saluations Lady 
  Rastanyev." Yadir says easily, "Thank you for seeing me." Her grey eyes flick to 
  Iason, Arn and Zhia, "I hope I haven't interupted?" Her white teeth contrasting 
  with her dark skin.

Iason smoothly comes to a standing position, bowing deeply to the Bene Gesserit, 
  making it all seem like he was about to do such a motion anyhow.

Arn rises and bows respectfully to Yadir. Seating himself again he faces the 
  Rastanyev Regent. He is sitting as straight as before, like a knife, and is as 
  composed as a gravestone. "Apples," he starts, as if noone had interrupted, "can 
  fall from their own weight or be freely given to someone. We are concerned that 
  not the wrong kind of gardener should enter and climb the apple tree, breaking 
  its limbs in the process."

Zhia snaps up, diving into a graceful bow toward the Bene Gesserit. Then Lowering 
  herself back into the sofa.

Raises as the Reverend Mother approaches. She lightly falls into a curtsy towards 
  her, "Reverend Mother... your timing is... impectable." She turns to look towards 
  Iason as she finishes, "I believe we were trying to understand fruitation of 
  beings and how they relate to apples."

Yadir nods to each in turn, her grey eyes observing nuances, her attention drawn 
  back to Ivanova, "A philosophical discussion Lady Rastanyev?" She asks.

"In some ways... yes." Ivanova keeps her eyes focused on Iason for a moment longer
  before breaking the stare to return them to the Reverend Mother, "Do you have a 
  moment to spare and join us?"

Iason murmurs softly, "Reverend Mother.'

Arn turns expresionlessly to Yadir.

Zhia twists in her seat to face the Reverend Mother.

Yadir inclines her head graceful, "Of course. Perhaps the subject of fruitation 
  will have some relevance for my call." She glances to a free spot, "If I may?" 
  Yadir asks Ivanova.

Ivanova lets her hand lightly flip over in a waving manner, "Please do Reverend 
  Mother... thank you." She too then reseats herself and begins to offer, "Would 
  anyone enjoy some tea... or fruit while we're on the subject?"

With an grace that is inherent not learned, Yadir settles herself into the 
  proffered seat, "Tea, if you would be so kind Lady Rastanyev."

Ivanova nods her head and snaps a finger. An action upon which a servant moves 
  forward and pours several cups of tea.

Iason's fingers twitch a bit, then straighten after nearly curling up. "Thank you, 
  my Lady."

Turning back toward Ivanova, Zhia nods her head accompanied with a light smile. "I 
  would love some tea m'Lady." After recieving it, "Thank you m'Lady."

Arn inclines his chin to Ivanova. An affirmation of either choise, apparently. He 
  then turns to Zhia with an easy smile, "Not any fruits? Sweets for the sweet, as 
  it is said, My Lady."

Yadir flicks a glance to Iason, her grey eyes move from his hands to his eyes, 
  just a brief smile before she returns her attention to the Hostess, "So what is 
  the question?"

Zhia inclines her head toward Arn, "No thank you Master Arn, I'm sorry to say I do 
  not have a taste for any fruits at the moment."

Arn chuckles lightly to himself in response to Zhia's answer, apparently warming 
  up, and leans back in the sofa.

Letting everyone receive their cups and wishes, Ivanova accepts a cup for herself 
  and then nods. She then begins lightly towards Arn, "It is strange at times 
  though Sir Celestine. A fruit, that is heavy, will fall from a tree... but at 
  times so will a fruit that is not. And in a forest, how do you know which tree 
  is it really?"

Arn raises his eyebrows and adds a broad smile to this. This stretches his black 
  eye somewhat, creating a strange effect. "Ah... but one does always recognize 
  the apple-tree. It is the one of bountiful harvest, My Lady. And light fruits 
  seldom fall of their own will," he remarks with yet another chuckle, "but talked 
  into this by the wind - a most fickle suitor." He then winks at the Reverend 
  Mother and Zhia.

Iason sits back silently.

Yadir listens to each one in turn, smiles amused by Arn's gesture, she slowly 
  stirs her tea.

Ivanova blows lightly across the top of her cup before answering, "Yet... Sir 
  Celestine. If the branch were not so weak as to let go of the fruit so easily... 
  the wind would have never been able to tempt it."

Iason murmurs, "But do not all fruits eventually fall? It is often less a matter 
  of a weak branch rather than mere time doing its work."

Arn finally acknowledges the servant offering him his cup of tea and accepts it 
  without looking at the man. On an impulse he comes to his feet. "Yes, yes sir," 
  he says to Iason, "but this is beside the point, My Lady. We can all agree on 
  that some fruit are sweet and some sour. How to differ between them if you not 
  sample enough?" In answer to his own rhetorical question he rises, putting his 
  tea cup down on the arm of the sofa and spilling a drop or two in the process. 
  "I for one," he continues, now really warming up to the subject, "am something 
  of a gourmet. I only allow myself the rarest, most exquisite taste. Not all of 
  us are of that inclination, I have to admit, though."

"Actual no," Yadir disagrees with everyone, "It is neither the wind nor the branch 
  at fault, but the link between the branch and the fruit. This would be the," She 
  says tenatively, however it seems an odd jesture for such a woman, "stem?" She 
  questions for a momment, before continuing on, "It is this link that assures the 
  nuturition of the fruit for if it is poor the fruit sour, strong sweet, also 
  this will prevent the wind from carrying away with such precious fruit."

Ivanova lowers her cup, having left it mostly untouched. Her eyes remain focused 
  downward towards the contents of the cup, "Well spoken Reverend Mother." She 
  nods slowly and then looks towards Iason again, "... and in nature, it is not 
  always easy to judge the health of a fruit by mere coloration of the exterior... 
  there are many layers underneath that are the true layers."

Arn laughs merrily. "Reverend Mother, who knows better what stems do than 
  yourself? Then you must surely with this - stems are expendable, or rather that 
  they can be changed according to need!" Taking a flimsy step, almost like that of
  a dancer, towards Ivanova he offers her a graceful bow. "Colors say nothing, My 
  Lady. A fruit that is rotten is always pretty on the surface."

"That is what the Framer is there for." Yadir lifts her tea cup, "For is it not 
  their skill that by knowledge or experience know which fruit shall procduce the 
  sweetest flavor?"

Arn holds his bow, watching Ivanova from under his brow with that curious blend of 
  feelings from earlier.

Zhia sips her tea earnestly as she follows the conversation between the different 
  people. Fidgeting around ever so often to fix herself into a more comfortable 
  position to end up in quite an akward situation. Blowing her hair from out of 
  her eyes she continues her constant struggle to become at ease.

Ivanova watches Arn and manages to stiffle a slight laugh. She looks towards Zhia 
  then and asks in a gentle tone, "How do you feel on this subject my dear?"

Iason's hand lightly brushes Zhia's in a soothing manner, as he looks up. "I fear 
  that the question here is one of picking the correct gardener."

Arn pops up. "Aha," he exclaims theatrically when Iason has finished.

Zhia turns toward Ivanova, sighing with a final comfort of relief. "I have no 
  quarrels upon the subject m'Lady. Just trying to find a comfortable way to sit 
  on this sofa." Finally finding herself comfortable, she throws out a sigh of 
  relief along with a smile toward Iason.

Sha'ara'diin steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Sha'ara'diin has arrived.

Arren steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Arren has arrived.

Yadir shakes her head and leans a little forward to Iason, "No Earl of Merx, it 
  is not the gardener, it is the individual who shall feast upon the fruit whom 
  you must select with wisdom."

Iason's smile is reserved, even as he rises to bow to the Siridari who has entered.
  "Ah, but the gardener is the servant of the individual who would feast on the 
  fruits of their labors. The problem is to determine whether or not the correct 
  gardener has been picked, to see that the fruit is delivered to its proper 
  place.

Arn is standing in the middle of the floor as the others are seated in sofas 
  around him, sipping tea. He is holding a dramatic pose, with his finger in the 
  air, as he recognises the newly arrivals and transform his poise into a deep 
  bow.

Stepping into the room quietly, Sha'ara'diin bows with his usual grace, then 
  straitens, his eyes settling momentarily upon each of the assembled guests.

Arren steps in close behind Sha'ar, about a step behind him. He glances about 
  quickly and quietly, moveing to stand close to the wall.

Iason says, "Baron Bajazet! An unexpected honor."

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from 
  vehicle 1870, bound for Rastanyev Embassy, requesting clearance, "Please allow 
  me to visit your wonderful embassy.""

Zhia picks herself out of the sofa, sweeping into a graceful bow to those 
  entering. A wide smile can be seen upon her face.

Ivanova lets her eyes drift up from its position upon the Atreides Earl and 
  towards the doorway. She lightly speaks, "My... it seems this is to be a busy 
  day in the Embassy." For a moment, her eyes flicker back to Arn, a small sadness
  in them before standing and greeting the newest arrivals. Her movement disturbed 
  only by a quick acknowledgement into her communicator.

You clear the vehicle over your communicator.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been 
  granted for vehicle 1870, bound for the Rastanyev Embassy, by Ivanova."

Yadir chuckles and refrains from rising for a momment she sets her cup down, and 
  finally the last to rise, she turns to greet Sha'ara'diin.

Marius steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Marius has arrived.

Iason is standing to bow to the Baron Bajazet.

Arren is standing close to a wall, his eyes watching over Sha'ar and those nearby.

Sha'ara'diin's eyes flit to the Rastanyev Siridar, a hint of curiousity touching 
  his eyes. With a smile he replies to Iason's greeting, "My Lord Earl, well met 
  as usuall, Lady Ingamort, Lady Rastanyev, Reverend Mother, Master Celestine, I 
  bid my Lords and Ladies good evening."

Arn nods to Marius. He slowly stands straight after the bow, face neutral and 
  lifeless again. There is a strange gleam to his black and slightly swollen left 
  eye.

Iason murmurs to the Baron, "I trust that your sister is well, my Lord Baron? Ah, 
  Marius, a pleasure to see you here.

Marius walks swiftly over to Arn's side, and bows to Lady Rastanyev and Lord 
  Bajazet. He smiles and replies to Iason, "I but live to serve."

Ivanova move out of the seated area and towards the new arrivals, "Baron... " she 
  announces in a friendly tone, falling slightly into a curtsy as she nears.

Yadir inclines her head to Sha'ara'diin and then to Arren.

Arren stays silent near the wall, unmoving, almost emotionless. He doesn't 
  acknowledge any presence in the room except for Sha'ar, constantly keeping his 
  eyes on his Baron.

Lips curling into a smile, the Baron replies in a warm voice, "I trust my Lady is 
  well this night?" His eyes drift over Ivanova as he speks.

Ivanova smiles lightly, her eyes darting for a moment at the other two, the 
  Atreides and the Bajazet that seem to have slipped in behind the Baron. She nods 
  her head and responds, "I have been... busy as we discussed earlier." She nods 
  her head, "But please... come join us for some tea and fruit. The good Earl Merx 
  was just trying to explain to me the importance of fruit, stems, and gardeners."
  She steps to one side, extending a hand foward to invite the whole group back to
  the seating area.

Iason remains standing, slowly straightening as he waits for his betters to seat 
  themselves.

In a fuild motion, Sha'ara'diin sweeps towards a comfortable seat, his bisht 
  sliwrling around him slightly as he settles himself. "I do thank My Lady, the 
  hospitality is much appreciated." The desert Baron purrs silkily.

Having lead her guest in, Ivanova turns herself and returns to spread her dress
  about her and resume her seat. She lightly falls into her chair, taking a moment
  to get comfortable before retrieving her cup of tea. With the other hand, she
  snaps lightly and a servant steps forward and begins to serve teas to the new
  guest.

In pursue of Ivanova, Zhia softly lowers herself back into her seat. Retrieving
  her tea as well and slowly begins to sip at it again.

Arren seems to prefer to stay near to the wall, just watching over the group. He
  makes no move, speaks no words, seeming to be a living statue.

Arn moves towards his old place and softly slides down next to Zhia, with a nod to
  her. He retrieves his cup but doesn't taste it.

Marius walks slowly over to an unoccupied chair set slightly away from the others,
  and after a brief moment sits down.

Ivanova looks casually towards Arren before addressing the Baron, "It is alright
  for him to come and join us you know Baron... I don't bite." She smiles mockingly,
  "honestly."

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from
  vehicle 1870, bound for Rastanyev Embassy, requesting clearance, ""Open the
  damned gates, eh? I've no time to be waiting!""

Sha'ara'diin smiles slightly, offering, "I often say thus myself." The Baron's
  eyes sweep over Arren for a long moment, a slight silent order echoing in the
  depths of the man's eyes.

Ivanova takes in a deep breath as her communicator chirps lightly. She rolls her
  eyes and then speaks quickly into it.

You clear the vehicle over your communicator.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been
  granted for vehicle 1870, bound for the Rastanyev Embassy, by Ivanova."

Boris steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Boris has arrived.

Arren raises a brow as Sha'ar's glance comes his way. He moves away from the wall
  and over to stand by the Baron Bajazet's side. He still does not speak, nor does
  he look inclined to speak.

Ilzecki steps through the bright blue double doors from the courtyard.
Ilzecki has arrived.
Ilzecki bows

Arn slowly rises to bow to the Siridar Baron with companion, lowering his eyes as
  he does so.

Sha'ara'diin's face goes slack for the slightest instant, then crinkles of tension
  begin to form around smoky grey eyes. The Baron rises, then bows slightly to the
  looming Harkonnen before resuming his seat silently, subtle ripples of tense
  awareness pulsing their way through synapses and sinews. "My Lord Baron." Comes
  the somewhat terse and obligatory greeting.

Ivanova lowers her cup again and then stands, letting out a sigh as she does. She
  manages a thin smile before nodding her head, "Excuse me folks... again." And
  then slipping towards the entrance and the newest arrivals.

Iason bows again to the other Baron. "Baron Harkonnen. A pleasure."

Zhia follows Arn as she rises slowly sweeping into a graceful bow toward the
  Siridar Baron.

Boris booms out in laughter as he sees the gathering, barely able to contain his
  mirth. "If this isn't a sight? The cream of Kaitain society, drinking tea and
  sitting about like wax figures!"

Iason murmurs, "I fear that not all of us have your.. gusto for life, my Lord
  Baron." as he waits to seat himself.

Marius stands belatedly and bows, smiling, then reseats himself.

"Just for you Baron Harkonnen would we do such a thing." Ivanova nearly snaps back.
  Her lips though curl into a smile as she curtsies and makes a more formal
  welcome, "Baron..."

Arn remains silent and prostrate.

Arren turns to regard the Harkonnen. He looks the Baron over with emotionless dark
  eyes. He takes another step toward Sha'ar, keeping him within armsreach at all
  times.

Boris pauses to bow deeply to Ivanova, his mouth curled in a smirk. "Good evening,
  my beauteous lady Ivanova."

Ilzecki stands one step to the left and behind Lord Baron.

Ivanova raises from her curtsy only to incline her head to one side, "Well... what
  brings you to our humble Embassy this evening Baron?"

Boris appears to notice the Bajazets for the first time. "I commend you on your
  courage, my Lady host. You would entertain wolf---" he puts his hand on his
  chest,"-- and leopard" he indicates his testy Bajazet rivals with a careless
  flick of a big hand--" both at once, in such genteel surroundings..."

Marius says quietly, "Without a hawk to watch over."

"Even the Flora have their thorns Baron... " Ivanova straightens, moving to stand
  in a position that places her almost between the two party's line of sight, "...
  take the rose for an example."

Iason's hand again lightly brushes Zhia's, in a silently reassuring manner as he
  holds his bow.

Shifting to the side to cover a moment of awkwardness, the Sultan avoids the bait,
  content to regard the Harokonnen warily from over the rim of his tea cup.

Boris chuckles, "Ah, the rose. A weedy sort of blossom...On Giedi we clip the
  damned blooms and keep the thorns, of course. Seems this world would profit from
  rooting out the damned rose as well, eh? Eh? Considering the trouble it's caused.
  What do you think, Sultan?" he calls, his voice skirting the edge of challenge in
  its tone.

Zhia moves silently toward Iason's back, not knowing what to expect with this scene
  in front of her.

Arn is still holding his bow, effortlessly. He theatrically stifles a yawn.

A cock of the left brow, and a slight clearing of the throat indicate that the
  desert Sultan cannot seem to resist this temptation. "I think, My Lord Baron,
  that in this subject Houses Harkonnen and Bajazet can agree, this Rose nonsense
  has gone on far too long."

Boris turns to Ivanova. "Here, here, well said, eh? Eh?" he says with another
  chuckle. "And end to this nonsense!"

Iason merely remains in the deep bow, his hands moving to be clasped behind his
  back.

Ilzecki remains in her position and keeps her eye on the Sultan and his Guard.

Taking a moment to fold her arms together across her chest, Ivanova manages a quick
  glance backwards before asking, "Is there any use in asking the Baron to join us
  for some quiet tea and fruit?"

Zhia grasps Iason's hands as she spies the room quickly, bringing her attention
  back to the Siridari.

Quite without invitation, the Harkonnen drops his heavy bulk into a couch,
  settling into it comfortably. "Tea, yes," he says, not thrilled. "Skip the tea
  and bring us some brandy, eh?" He seems quite content to leave everyone else
  standing.

But everyone don't remain on their feet. In a smooth movement Arn glides down into
  the sofa, hitting the pillow just a fraction after Boris.

"Brandy?" Ivanova moves to retake her seat for yet another time this evening. She
  choses this time to settle at the edge of the seat, angling slightly to one side,
  "Surely the Baron should know by now that House Rastanyev prefers Vodka... but if
  you must have that weak drink." She bring to lift her hand to signal a servant
  forward.

Arren's eyes follow the Harkonnen as he sits down. Even through his emotionless
  mask, it's almost clear that he's not liking this one bit. He remains silent at
  his Sultan's side however.

Sha'ara'diin scoots over a bit in his seat, making room for the other Baron's ample
  girth. He carefully sips at his tea, his eyes rising and meeting with Arren's for
  a heartbeat, shifting to a summer sky, before dropping to stare into the contents
  of his cup.

Zhia cautiously sways over to where she was seated before, gently lowering herself
  back down into the sofa.

Iason finally seats himself somewhere between Zhia and Ivanova.

Boris says, "How is the gift, my lady? Are you quite enjoying him?"

One of Sha'ar's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at that question. He shifts
  again in his seat, once again studying his tea intently.

Ilzecki remains motionless, her eyes move over the Sultan and his Guard.

Ivanova lets her eyes flint quickly towards Iason before answering, "I believe he
  is learning quite... well considering."

Iason lifts his tea to his lips, sipping quietly. As he sets his tea down, his hand
  just brushes Zhia's again, as if by accident.

Arn picks his cup back up and plays carelessly with it. He listens to the small-
  talk with a light interest, bordering on absolute boredom.

Boris snorts, accepting a snifter of brandy from a Rastanyev servant. "Learning?
  Are you trying to teach him to count?"

Marius takes a small sip of tea. He places the teacup precisely and silently onto 
  the saucer.

Ivanova lets her eyes glance again towards Iason, a slight scowl coming across her
  face for a moment before she smiles and responds, "Oh he knows how to count 
  Baron... you had already taught him that for mean with each stroke of your hand."

Sha'ara'diin smirks into his tea, mischeif flahsing in his eyes as he glances at 
  Ivanova for a moment.

Boris wrinkles his nose. "That's what whips are for, my lady. Well, get some use 
  of him eh?" he says, with a generous gesture. "I'll send you another if you use 
  him up."

Zhia lifts her tea up to her lips, slowly taking small sips. Her hand seems to 
  rest slightly upon Iason's after putting the cup back down.

Fighting down a look of disdain, the Sultan maintains a near eerie silence, eyes 
  smoldering with the embers of rising anger.

"I'm sure you will Baron..." Ivanova shifts slightly in her seat and then reaches 
  forward towards the tray to retrieve a star-shaped fruit. She takes a small bite
  before turning back to her other guests, "Baron Bajazet... I was hoping your 
  sister could have been here today. I did enjoy our conversation the other day."

Iason quietly sips at his own tea, sitting still as he listens.

Marius taps his teacup quietly, his left eyebrow twitching uncontrollably, as he 
  observes the battle of wits.

Iason lets his hand rest under Zhia's, looking around silently.

Sha'ara'diin cocks an eyebrow at the Earl, then sighs somewhat, before returning 
  to his tea.

Ilzecki puts her communicator up to her ear...after listening for a minute she 
  says, "My Lord Baron, they need us at the embassy, right now."

Ivanova shakes her head lightly as she follows Sha'ara'diin's glance. She then 
  announces lightly, "Well... you all will forgive me but papers do not merely 
  correct themselves and as much as I enjoy speaking with all of you, I do have 
  need to complete some important work." Her eyes quickly glance to Arn for a 
  second before she begins to stand.

Boris looks up. "Eh? Now? Oh damn it all...Very well." He rises. "I regret to 
  depart so quickly my lady, my friends, but business is business..."

Ivanova nods her head slowly towards the Baron, "Might... take a moment of your 
  time to walk you out?"

Iason merely bows.

Sha'ara'diin rises, then jerks forward into a clipped bow to the departing Baron.

Iason rises to do so even.

Arn puts his cup down on a nearby table. Only waiting for a lull in the 
  conversation he comes to his feet, tugging a little on his uniform jacket. 
  "Lords, Ladies," he says. "I sadly have to confess my inadequacy in contributing 
  to this most elegant and highly important event. So, I thank our graceful hostess
  for her kindness this evening and also moves to remove myself, for the benefit of
  us all." Arn bows to Ivanova, Sha'ara'diin and Boris, in that order - then to the
  rest.

Marius rises smoothly, uncoiling from his seat like a snake.

Boris says, "Of course, always in the company of so delightful a woman as yourself,
  eh?"

Zhia rises, giving the Baron a graceful bow as he departs.

Boris makes his way towards the door.
Boris steps out through the front doors, to the courtyard.
Boris has left.

Ilzecki steps out through the front doors, to the courtyard.
Ilzecki has left.

Ivanova's face lacks any smile as she merely nods her head and the follows the 
  Baron out.