A new Port of Call...

RUELETTE(Fabian LaRue):
*She hasn't ben here very long, but she's already met the resident loud-mouth, TimeSlash. Nice girl and all but wow.. LOUD. Fabian pats down after her shower, which had followed the work out. Intense and in the Wreck Room, which was harder than she was used to, but it felt good. Felt good to be playing out scenerios she might have to deal with later. She wanted to be the best she could be and make her mark in the GUARD. Become a legend. Yeah, right up there with Venin and Scratch and Warpole and the others. She was thirsty now and wandered over to the little cafe on that level, where they supplied food and drink, both healthy and a small sprinkling of not-so-healthy, tho it was always the donuts that went before the nutribars. Ordering a skinny latte, weak, she strolls over to one of the couches, sits, and waits, not really knowing anyone, so not making any eye contact. Just keeping to herself*

PORT(Jaques Panache):
*A sigh leaves his lips as the door on his new quarters close behind him and he steps into the hall of the american base....he never wanted to be here, her would much prefer to still be onthe french base, but what option did have...he was Rookie, and they didn't get to choose their assignments...Once he got his third year in though, then he'd request a transfer back....he pauses outside his door, wondering what he should do now...itwasn't often that he actually go some spare time...should he actually put it to a purpose, or perhaps relax..his gaze wanders to a few passing females and he smiles* Bonjour belle dames *the merely nod and continue on their way...taking their cue he turns towards a little cafe he knows that actually makes decent coffee...as hard as it is to believe in this country.....as he enter hes instantly looking around sizing up the currenn residents....he smiles as his gaze lands on Fabian, a rookie like him, though he had never had much chance to talk to her, perhaps now he would....he gets himself a coffee and turns towards her* Bonjour, mind if I join you? *he slides into the couch almost as hes asking*

Huh? *Fabian glances up as Port slides down next to her on the couch, but she smiles brightly and scoots over just a tad, a reflexive action to make room for him* Oh, sure. Go ahead. *What was his name... what was his name.... she could remember faces like there was no tomorrow, but names. Gah! she guesses... wine. Something about wine...Piernot? No, but French, yes...* Um... P.. port, isn't it? *she doesn't know many kinds of wines*

*He extends his hand in greeting* Oui Port, but pleese call me Jaques and you are Fabian is that not correct, Ruelette? *he slides into the couch, perhaps just a tad close for comfort, but the europeans weren't known for personal space were they?....* So you got posted here as well? How loong havve you been here?

*Fabian frowns to herself slightly, scoots over again as he was a bit too close, but she hides it very well, incorporating the shift into the way she twists and slightly alters her posture, to turn and shake his hand, smiling brightly, green eyes shining. A very cute girl* Yes, very good. Fabian. Jacques. I'll remember. *she lets his hand go after testing its grip and such... she has a very firm grip, herself... and sits back as the coffee maker man brings her latte to her. She nods a thanks, smiles, and turns back to Jacques, putting two sugars into her coffee* I was stationed here, yes, and I'm soooo happy about it! Aren't you? I was hoping I'd get this post, much better than Nebraska ANY day. I haven't been here long... couple months at the most. You?

*he smiles warmly as he quickly apraises her..and its not just her skill and strength that hes looking at...she shrugs non-commitedly* Its okay...*he takes a sip of the coffee and sighs..he really would like a shot of something stronger in it, but here they are following the american laws, which means he has to be 21 here to drink...one of many facts which annoy him* I was in France, however with the reopening of this base, there was some personell shuffling

*A barbie doll, really, is what she resembles. Sunkissed skin, flawless, big green eyes, long sunblonde hair. Almost /too/ cute. She wears a black cap with the word GUARD embroidered in orange letters over the bill. She wears her rookie's clothing, which is a snug black unitard with green hipboots and shoulder-length green gloves, which she has folded down at various positions, not a uniform height or fold. The GUARD emblem was over her heart in green. She pushes some errant strands of gold from her face and sips her coffee, blowing on it first so she didn't burn her tongue. SHe ignored his appraising glance* You don't sound too happy about that, Jacques. You'd rather be in France again? But all the legends and the action are /here/....

*and his apreciation of the view is very clear, the french never were known for holding back their thoughts or emotions* Oui *he shrugs* but I am stuck here for now....after all who wants to be in the shadow of giants? I would prefer to create my own legend *he smiles as her lips purse to blow gently on the steaming mug then his gaze wanders further* the uniform suits you *he chuckles and plucks at the uniform that sits on his gangly frame* some of us they were not designed for

*Internal discomfort at the appraising glance, at the fact its so bold and brazen. It feels sticky... clingy, that look, like honey or something. She supresses a shudder and instead smiles even as she sips her latte carefully* Yes, but to make your own legend and stand tall, bright, in those shadows. Wouldn't that be awesome? Wouldn't you like that? I would... that's what I want. I want to be one of the legends.... *she drifts off, imagining... then slides her gaze back to Jacques as he plucks at his uniform. She chuckles and sets the latte down, strightening herself* Yes well, I wish it didn't fit me so /well/... bit too tight in my opinion. *Good thing she had a nice figure. Lean, athletic, not overly curvaceous, but she wasn't blooping all over the place either. Still, she'd prefer more... privacy*

*He shakes his head as he takes another sip* I prefer to become a legend where none previously existed...to not have the stairs carved out for me, the path guided....*he shakes his head and chuckles* and which do you seek to follow? *he smiles* not too tight at all , mon cherie, in fact even the colours suit you...the black washing him out, making him seem a ghost, the green reflecting and making his already pale skin seem sallow...and the orange when he wears it...is like a bright splash of colour only accenting the rest*

Fabian glances at Jacques and leans back slightly, coffee in hand, watching him. Then she smiles and tips her head in his direction playfully* Yes, but you're GUARD and no matter what, paths have already been carved for the GUARD. There's not a new place to go, if you see what I mean. Legend is legend is legend, and while you can diversify the approach, the means, the ends will still be the same. A legend in the GUARD. Therefore, and in that capacity, it doesn't matter where you are or what you do. Of course, break that down into smaller facets and you might have something.

*he chuckles* well if you look at that broadly perhaps but I much prefer the smaller picture, makes it easier to bite off and digest chunks *he raises his cup to his lips and let the now warm liquid run down his throat* besides we are all one if you look that broadly. We are all GUARD, everything one does, we all do..we're like the musketeers *He raises his cup in salute* all for one and one for all.

*Fabian chuckles and grins, nodding even as she sets her glass down* Yes, I suppose you're right. Too broad and it becomes redundant. TRue. But what I said is true too. I won't follow a path, I'll make my own, I just want to stand as big and tall as the ones who blazed a path before me, that's all. On par, equals. And all my own.

As equals yes, but always as a follower...*he shakes his head and finishes off the coffee* We will always be after them, they set the standards, unless we can excede those standards we will always be that little bit behind *he signals for more coffee* Unless we start fresh elsewhere...this is the current hotbed, *he leans towards her almost conspiratorialy* we have to find the next hotbed and be there first...then we can make a name

*she laughs in silvery peels, but quiet* Now you're starting to sound like me, Jacques. *she smiles at his whispers tho she doens't look at him as he leans forward, closer to her. She nods* And where would you think this hotbed would be, hmm? Where we could be out of their shadows and create our own myths? I'm DYING to know... *as He signals, so does she, motioning for another skinny weak latte, two sugars, and focuses her attention back on him a moment* You were... raised GUARD, weren't you?

*he waits until the coffes are refilled, then leans back against the cushion..a mischieivous smile dancing on his lips as he inhales the steam off the coffee* I have a few ideas...*S* I've been studying *he chuckles* Oui, in France..and you?

And are you going to share them? *she stirs her sugars into her drink, the little silver spoon making tiny clinks against the glass* Or just keep me in suspense? *she leans back as well, pink lips again pursing to blow-cool her latte* Me? Nebraska mainly. The Midwest. *thankfully, the peoples of the region had no real identifying accent... they didn't sound like hicks. Except maybe in Iowa...* I've never been to France. You like it there better, I take it?

*He chuckles* perhaps I like keeping you in suspense....*he takes a small sip from the scalding cup* France? yes, I do....Its...*he looks around as if seeking the words* well, for one...its home...but there...there is so much history, so much culture.* and there I am legally an adult *..he indicates his cup* Here I cannot even have a shot of brandy with my coffee *he sighs* but I am here now, and must make the best of it *he leans forward* so do you really want to know?

The States aren't exactly without history or culture themselves, you know. Not /French/ history and culture, but, nevertheless... *she grins into her drink as he sulks about the fact he's not an adult, can't have a shot of brandy, and really she can't empathize too much with him. But he'd make the best of it. THAT she could understand. She nods now and slides her eyes to the side, to view him over her cup* Yes, I"d like to know.

Yes, but its just not as rich or diverse...there is so many wonders in France...the architecture alone is breathtaking..and the food *he smiles as he almost remembers the odors wafting from the markets*..oh nothing matches the food...*once more he sighs and takes a long sip of his coffee as if composing his thoughts then he puts the cup on the table as he leans towards you* I could tease you, make you wonder but pour vous mon belle cherie *a mishceivious gleam dances in his eyes* I think its Australia * he hurries on as if to stave off your objections* They had a lab there, a large one that fell..only so far, few RUNners have been recovered from that region...now that we know where a good protion of the Americans are, I think we will be moving our efforts to other countries...My bets are Australia

Yes, but every country says that about their food... *she trails off as he leans forward and reveals...* AUSTRALIA??! *Fabian bursts into laughter* But its so... so... /backwards/. Are you SURE they have RUNners there?? There's only 19 million people in the whole /country/. And we don't know where most the Americans are... its... *she sighs and straightens back up, still chuckling* They don't have twinkies in Australia. What kind of hick place wouldn't have /twinkies/?? Or Oreos??? I dunno, Jacques...

*his features slightly darken as you laugh but amusement still dances in his eyes* add it up....they had a HUGE laboratory there, that blew up.. *he leans forward, counting each point on his hand* few people were recovered, and those that were, are all accounted for... There are huge tracts of uninhabited land, a lot of it not even mapped...and .the GUARD base in SA isn't very active....the RUNners have to be somewhere...we haven't found many Aussies here or anywhere else for that matter

*She quiets and listens, watching him tick off his points using his fingers as punctuation. She nods slowly and narrows her eyes* If we have a base in SA, where do you think they'd be then? Victoria? New South Wales? WA? And how the heck would we get there? I mean, file transfer papers? We're just Rookies, we can't do that yet. You have to wait till you graduate, 2 years from now. They don't want more Rookies over here, I don't think.... do they only have that one base?? *she doubts it but..* In SA and that's all? *That would be monumentaly stupid*

Thats the thing *he shrugs lightly* I'm not sure...maybe the desert somewhere or the deep jungle? *he sighs* thats another problem..the transfer....I haven't figured out how to swing that yet....but I will *he takes a sip of coffeee and then sets it back lightly on the table* no, we have three bases there, all relatively small SA is just the largest of them

*Fabian sips her latte thoughtfully, nodding slowly and blinks large green eyes at Port* You really Think Australia is the place to be? *she struggled too hard to get /here/ tho...* Where are the other bases?

*he chuckles* you haven't been studying much have you ...one is just outside of Perth, the other in central somewhere, I'm not exactally sure *he finishes off the coffee and glances down to his watch* I gotta go, I have training *he glances back at you* see you soon? I hope

*Fabian smiles and nods, also rising. She too, had things to do* yes, I hope so. I'd love for you to keep me informed of this. I'll have to do some research too, I think. Maybe we can work something out. *she extends her hand again in farewell* See you around Jacques. Thanks for the conversation... *she grins and heads in her own direction*

It has been a pleasure mon cherie *he raises her hand and lightly brushes it with his lips..his eyes wacthing her reaction the entire time* we will talk again soon *he straightens and turns heading down the hallway to his assigned training room*