Log Date: 12/18/96
Log Cast:
	Tance, Kesya
Log Intro:
	Green-adapt Crystal Singer Tance Vokrim has been having what amounts
to his usual life: skulking around the JPF, avoiding his quarters simply
because they're not a very pleasant place to be, and avoiding other Guild
personnel as much as possible. Lately he's been lurking about the simulator
bay in the Hangar, slipping in when the recruits and sledtechs aren't
looking, and stubbornly working to resharpen his flying skills -- thinking
that if he can get a good rating, maybe they'll let him have a sled back.
He has in fact accomplished that very goal, much to his own shock.
	But as he gets his rating back up, he has an encounter with Kesya
As'shoriah, which reminds the Singer that she had promised to
shepherd him, a concept that terrifies him for reasons he hasn't yet
managed to admit to himself. Kesya in fact offers to shepherd him again,
but before she gets very far, Tance, muttering that she should be shepherding
somebody richer and cuter, storms off. Kesya for her part mishears his
mutter and _her_ temper flares, as well, for she believes Tance wants
somebody cuter _than her_ to shepherd him. Affronted by the perceived
insult to her looks, Kesya goes about her business.
	Tance, however, is panicked by the brief encounter. Convinced that
Kesya will corner him again, he spends a couple of days hiding in a place
in the JPF he desperately hopes she has no reason to go to: a stock room
on Level 1. Only when the stock room personnel report him to the Guildmaster,
and Maxwell calls the Singer into his office, does Tance grudgingly emerge
from his hiding place.
	The encounter with Maxwell doesn't soothe Vokrim's fears much,
either. Maxwell, he discovers, has been keeping an eye on his progress
during his long medically enforced absence from the Ranges; now, though,
the Guildmaster is of the opinion that there's no medical reason that
Tance can't return to the Ranges. And when he learns that the only thing
stopping him is Tance's balking at someone who has in fact volunteered
to shepherd him, the Guildmaster firmly orders the Singer to find out
if Kesya really does intend to shepherd him -- and to accept her offer
if she does, or else Maxwell himself will assign Tance a shepherd,
and he won't promise it'll be one that'll make the task a pleasant one.
	Cowed, Tance flees. He knows he can't go against the Guildmaster's
order; Tance's memory might have holes in it, but the knowledge that
Maxwell Farantine is the ultimate power in the Heptite Guild is
firmly ingrained into his psyche, and he cannot conceive of disobedience.
	But it's just as hard to conceive of approaching Kesya.
	It occurs to Tance, though, that perhaps, just perhaps, it'd
be a bit less terrifying -- and might even bolster his chances to get
the frightening ordeal over and done with as fast as possible --
if he takes the time to clean himself up first. With this spurring him
on, as well as those other niggling motives he can't quite let himself
think about, Tance creeps off to one of the Guild's barbers and
sullenly asks for a shave and a haircut, which he gets; then, he creeps
back to his quarters, and not only bathes, but digs up from the depths
of his closet the nicest clothes he can find, including the green
shirt Kesya herself gave him as a gift.
	Thus transformed, Tance finally skulks to where he knows
Kesya's quarters are. But he doesn't know that she's gone up to Shankill
Station, and thus, hours pass in which the Singer lingers in the
White Quadrant corridor, alone. At last, attention wavering, he sits
down beside her door, and eventually, he dozes off....

----------
White Quadrant
This gleaming white strip blazes in rainbow patterns: not the absence of 
  color, but the presence of all colors in the spectrum. The intensity of the 
  whiteness does not hurt your adapted vision but soothes it in a subliminal 
  manner. Several recessed doorways indicate the quarters of some singers. 
Obvious exits:
Andreshella's Suite  Shana's Suite  Kesya's Suite  Rykos's Suite  Rhianna's 
  Suite  Sharr Suite  Diamond and Sparhawk's Suite  Lifts  

Kesya arrives from Lift Area - 11.
Kesya has arrived.
Kesya whistles softly to herself as she treads down the hallway, her footfalls 
  soft on the thick carpeting. She stops, startled, as she sees someone 
  crouched out side her door.

Privacy lights -- red on the door into the suite of the Deputy Guildmaster and 
  his wife, red on other doors, green on yet more -- glow dimly in the 
  night-time lighting, but enough, indeed, to illuminate the hunched figure of 
  someone, indeed, beside your own suite's entrance. The sound of restless 
  breathing can be heard, deep but erratically paced, as though whoever this 
  is is uneasily dozing.

Kesya glances down the hallway behind her, almost as though expecting someone 
  else to be there to tell her why her entranceway is being used for a bed. 
  But the hallway is empty and perfectly silent, save for the figure's 
  restless breathing. She approaches slowly, and half crouches to see if she 
  can make out who it is in the dim light without waking him up.
Kesya looks at you for a moment.

It's definitely a man. And the more closely you look at him, the more 
  bizarrely familiar he becomes, though his head is currently bowed into the 
  arms he's wrapped around one knee.

Kesya hrms softly to herself. It's not often she has trouble identifying 
  people in the Guild, in the position she holds, but the reason she's 
  probably confused is that the image she associates with this person crouched 
  before her is at odds with what is actually there. Her symbiont-enhanced 
  sense of smell tells her this person is actually clean, and she can tell 
  he's got short hair -- nothing like the sleeper's usual state of attire. 
  Finally shrugging, she taps the lurker quietly on the shoulder. "Er.. hello?"

That bowed head, as you watch, jerks up. Brown eyes -- yes, weathered at their 
  corners -- snap open and look around wildly, and a familiar harsh tenor 
  voice yelps, "Claimjumper? Mach storm? Wha..."

Kesya's eyes widen in surprise. "Tance?" She looks him up and down in 
  disbelief. "What're you doing here?" And after just a pico of hesitation, 
  she quickly adds calminly, "It's okay, you're in the hallway, not on a 
  claim."

Tance jerks back against the wall behind him, as though still half-asleep and 
  not quite convinced you aren't an intruder -- or perhaps not, for his gaze 
  _does_ seem alert enough, and wary to boot. Much of the rest of him has 
  altered, but that hasn't, at least until the suspicious glare suddenly 
  modulates into an embarrassed glancing away and a mumble of "Jade."

The green-skinned Singer stiffles an amused smile as she gets recognised, her 
  brows arching expectantly. "Umm hmm. You got yourself cleaned up, I see," 
  she comments. "Looks great. May I ask what you're doing outside my door?"

"Had to," mumbles Vokrim. "Ordered." Whether he means getting himself cleaned 
  up or parking himself at your threshhold is unclear, till he looks up 
  startledly and blurts, "It does?"

Kesya nods blithely, "Of course it does." Getting to her feet, she presses her 
  thumb to the doorplate and nods towards the entrance as the door slides 
  open. "Well, would you like to come in and tell me who ordered you? I'd 
  rather not sit in the hall."

Tance suddenly beams, ear to ear, a look he typically reserves for a dish of 
  peace ice cream. "It does? I did it right...!" comes another mumble, before 
  the beam suddenly fades as quickly as it had come, and Vokrim pauses halfway 
  in the midst of stiffly getting up himself.

Kesya chuckles to herself at the singer's enthusiasm. "I recognise the shirt, 
  too. Wasn't sure if you liked it when we had that little birthday party for 
  you." Brows creasing, she pauses as Tance's jovial nature disperses. 
  "Something wrong?"

Clearly uneasy once more, the man hauls himself laboriously upright; it can't 
  have been very physically comfortable crouched there, and he moves like a 
  man who has in fact awakened from unrestful slumber. Nor does Tance look at 
  you, as his mouth works for a few moments with equally clumsy effort, before 
  he finally bursts out with, "SORRY!"

Kesya doesn't appear to think there's anything to apologise for; if anything, 
  she seems surprised at Tance's outburst. Giving him a warm smile and a soft 
  chuckle, she shakes her head. "What for? C'mon," she heads into her 
  entranceway, "Come in, and tell me why you're here, and what all this is 
  about people ordering you. I don't really want to wake up the neighbours," 
  she grins. "And I'm tired enough that if I don't sit down, I'll be sleeping 
  out here too."
Kesya steps inside the door leading to Kesya's rooms.
Kesya has left.

The door slides open, and you step inside.
Kesya's Suite
Plush carpeting cushions your feet, the doorway leaving you in a short hallway 
  and closet area before leading into the main suite down shallow hardwood 
  steps. The whole area is done in multi-levels, brilliantly polished hardwood 
  mixing with a thick ash-grey carpeting. The lights are currently are fairly 
  bright, though dim enough that shadows obscure the corners and crannies in 
  the room.
     Several doorways lead off from this large living room, leading to dining 
  area, office, sleeping area and den. Simply decorated, the huge suite 
  nonetheless exemplifies Kesya's success as a Crystal Singer.
     You notice the entire left wall is covered with semi-qpaque screens that 
  hide the bathing room. These display calmly shifting scenes of Taal'en 
  terrain. The screens display a starry night sky above a small lake, a small 
  campfire flickering to the right of dark forest trees. Every now and then, 
  if you pause to watch, you can spot a shooting star flash across the 
  screens. 
Contents:
Kesya
Radiant Bath
Obvious exits:
Out  

Tance can be seen to follow you hesitantly at best; the door nearly slams into 
  him again before he makes it through, and then he scuttles away from it, as 
  if narrowly missing being bitten by an animal.

Kesya steps out of her boots, stepping down a few hardwood steps to the living 
  area. She gestures to the arrangement of chairs, "Have a seat." She doesn't 
  notice the rude treatment Tance gets from her doorway, instead moving to the 
  catering unit. "Hungry? We can snack while you tell me what's up."

Tance jerks his gaze away from the door, then, no less warily, he steps a 
  little further into the room. The habitual scowl wavers on the word 
  'hungry', then settles again with the embarrassed mutter of, "Yeah, 
  'mhungry." He barely can be heard, and as he's addressing your floor, he 
  looks oddly like a sullen version of Kevlan Sharr.

Kesya's abode is unused to visitors -- shards, they're unused to Kesya, what 
  with the amount of time she spends in her office. The whole place seems to 
  suit her though, the walls adorned with several sketches she's done of her 
  native Taal'en, a clean and fresh aroma to the overly spacious apartment. 
  The singer looks at Tance speculatively for a moment, and dials up an 
  assortment of munchies, chicken fingers, nachos, cheese-sticks -- and places 
  them on the small table by the circle of couch and chairs. "Here you go," 
  she says easily. "Help yourself. Now what's going on?"
Kesya flops into a chair, obviously informal.

An audible growling rumbles out of the older Singer, and his face snaps to the 
  tray of food the moment it's produced. He very nearly rushes at the plate, 
  before catching himself, eyeing you nervously, and at last sinking gingerly 
  onto one of the hardwood chairs. But it's one within short grabbing distance 
  of the platter. "Ordered down here," he mutters, as he starts snatching 
  edibles and stuffing them gracelessly into his mouth. Then it occurs to him 
  he needs to clarify, and he waves a cheese stick a time or two before he at 
  last adds, "Guildmaster." Once more he locks his stare to the floor.

Kesya ahs, only picking at the food a bit as she talks. "Maxwell ordered you 
  to come see me? How come?" Her gaze flicks towards the older singer, her 
  manner completely at ease. "I haven't even run into him in the longest 
  while, come to think of it."

Now that he's out of the dimmer light of the corridor, you can get a better 
  look at Tance Vokrim. That's the green shirt you gave him, alright. It fits 
  him well, or at least might if he weren't so gaunt of frame; the fabric is 
  rumpled, but that might not be surprising, if his quarters are in the same 
  condition he himself usually is in, and the threadbare trousers and battered 
  boots he's got on with the shirt seem more his usual garb. The haircut and 
  shave -- and bath, for he does indeed smell cleaner than he has in weeks -- 
  have transformed him into looking almost.... normal. But the most startling 
  detail about him of all may well be that his cheeks, uncovered by shaggy 
  whiskrs, are now slowly turning crimson as you question him.
Tance swallows cheese, mutters, "Wants me shepherded," and prevents himself 
  from saying anything else by inhaling a chicken morsel.

Kesya's eyes aquire a sly gleam. "Ah, so he's sticking his nose into it, hmm?" 
  One hand rakes sea-green hair back from her dark brow as she talks, pushing 
  it out of her face. "I'm not surprised. I was wondering when he'd figure 
  you've had a long enough vacation." She adds amusedly, "I'm surprised he 
  hasn't decided the same of me." She pauses, and asks honestly, "I remember 
  you seemed hesitant about wanting me to shepherd you, so I gave you a few 
  days to find a suitable replacement. You're okay with this arrangement now?"

By way of reply, Tance eyes you sidelong as he slows his pace on nibbling 
  another edible. "Said I should find out if you meant it," he tells you, 
  voice strangely small. Frightened.

Kesya frowns indignantly, brows creasing as she casts you an odd look. "Of 
  course I /meant/ it. Why wouldn't I?"
Kesya is obviously not used to someone not taking her at face value. The way 
  she lives, she says what she means, and darnit, people are supposed to know 
  that. Right?

"Don't know why you'd want to shepherd me." His gaze drops, scowl flickering 
  again across his face; his voice drops, too. "'M a karkin' wreck."
Just as strange as his altered appearance, Tance appears to have utterly 
  forgotten the usual motive shepherds have for taking the job: the bonus, and 
  the quality of the sheep be damned as long as the shepherd's job is done.
Tance suddenly abandons his plowing path through your snacks and just sits 
  there, staring glumly down at the indentations his boots have left on the 
  pile of your carpet.

Kesya's expression softens, and the green-skinned singer moves to stay in 
  Tance's line of sight as his gaze drops again. "Hey... It's my job, Tance. 
  I'm in charge of tracking shepherding, so I get to see that you find someone 
  you're comfortable with." She pauses, her voice low as she speaks again, her 
  tone serious. "But even if it wasn't, I'd still shepherd you."
Kesya adds with a soft laugh, "You may be stubborn and grouchy, but I consider 
  you a friend, and that, therefore, is what I'm here for." Brows arched, she 
  peers at you to see how you take this statement.

_Has_ Tance been taking shyness lessons from Kevlan Sharr? Maybe he has; if 
  Vokrim'd been called into the Guildmaster's office, Galahad must have known 
  about it... and yet, since Kevlan wouldn't even think of the concept, and 
  Tance's own scattered memory would never hang on long to such instruction 
  anyway, there must be some other explanation for the defenseless expression 
  he lifts to you.
"I.... uh... found the datapad you gave me. It... said where your door was. 
  Maxwell didn't tell me."

Kesya beams at the other singer, the flash of her small white teeth stark 
  against her so-dark skin. "Oh, I'd forgotten about that! I remember now you 
  used it to help remember how not to crash." The serious tone has lifted from 
  her now at the memory. "That's great that you still have it. You must've 
  gotten lucky, though," she winks, "Or updated it. I just moved to the senior 
  singer floor here a little over a month ago." She pats the couch back with 
  one pleased hand. "Either way, you found it." Changing the subject she asks, 
  "So when do you want to head to the Ranges? I have..." she pauses 
  thoughtfully, "Three claims, but only two good for shepherding. A yellow and 
  green. Your pick."

"I... I must have put it in... I don't remember..." Tance blinks as you 
  chatter on. And stares now, eyes widened out of their usual squint. Three 
  seconds pass before he says, stunned, "You... really do mean it?"
Tance starts to straighten, unconsciously, in his chair. "You want to go to 
  the Ranges?" Are his eyes starting to light up?

Kesya nods emphatically, laughing now. How many times does she have to say it? 
  "Do you want me to write it out or something? Of /course/ I mean it!" More 
  seriously, she takes a breath and adds, "Tance, I never make offers I don't 
  intend to keep."

Tance asks in what must clearly be a desperate plea for assurance, "You want 
  to go to the Ranges _with_ _me_?" His eyes are _definitely_ lightening, and 
  something suspiciously resembling a smile glimmers around his mouth.

Kesya takes a breath, smiling. "So, yellow or pale green? The other I can't 
  really shepherd on, so those're your picks." She pauses, speaking almost to 
  herself. "We can take my sled, it's a two-person.. should get that darned 
  map fixed though..." Glancing up at the question, she leans forward to pat 
  the other Singer's knee. "Yup."

Tance explodes with a jubilant cackle, then blinks and stares wide-eyedly at 
  you again. "Green? Green! You have green?" Nothing less than an utter 
  reverence abruptly floods his face. "I like green."
And then, something else odd happens to Tance Vokrim's expression. His eyes 
  take on a shine they've never had in your presence before, and his voice 
  softens as he adds tenderly, "I remember you 'cause you're green."

[To be continued....]