Willin'

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

It was easy to tell where Samus had gotten his raconteur's panache. T'yeellaa tried to keep her amusement to a smile and not an outright laugh, and it caused her nose to scrunch slightly.

"Well jI'm glad the djinnerr jiss overr. Not the besst companjy. jI wass lookjing at mjy chrrono half the tjime, and then jI had to put all thjiss..."

She gestured vaguely at her elaborate dress.

"...back on."

Letting out a breezy sigh, T'yeellaa let her arms fall flat at her side.

"Anjywajy. Enough about me, jI want to hearr about jyou. Ssamuss hassn't told me anjythjing!"

[Quarles P. Dage]

His smile seemed to pause, still present but... hovering. Eyes blinked from behind his glasses and his hands, which had by that time found purchase on the uppermost box of mystery food, froze.

"Hold on now," he started slowly, still trying to process exactly what he'd heard. His head tipped ever so slightly to the side, his gaze locked with hers.

"... 'back on'?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She grimaced, sucking her teeth slightly.

"Um."

Of course she had taken for granted how easy smoothing all the cultural bumps had been with Samus. Her ears bobbed and she squinted her eyes apologetically.

"That'ss a long sstorrjy."

Looking for a save, T'yeellaa spotted one on the counter behind the older human.

"Can jI get jyou ssome wjine?"

It wasn't good wine, but as far as the carton stuff went, it was exactly the sort of thing you over-poured when flicking aimlessly on the holo.

[Quarles P. Dage]

A long story. One that still confused him, but she had a look about her that spoke to her hope at avoiding that story - whatever it was - and Quarles let the matter rest. Instead he shifted back into motion, and carefully setting the box on the counter in front of him, his smile turned lively once more at her offer of wine. Her previous offer of caf was discarded in favor of a drink that he was fairly certain would be much less fuss. She did look glad to be back home, and he was not about to ask that she uproot and leave once more.

Her gracious actions already were well above what he could've hoped when he first stepped foot on the station.

"Oh yes, wine will be nice, thank you," a few deft motions yielded a satisfying pop from the box lid and he swung it open.

"If you don't mind my asking, how long have you two been... " a hand went up in an almost breezy gesture, index finger out and tracking a lazy circle in the air between them, "... with each other?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Checking herself against being casually explicit in case Dage the Elder had a tendency to wilt like Commander Akiena, T'yeellaa skimped on any superfluous descriptors as to what exactly the thing was between her and Samus.

"Jusst overr ejight monthss now."

She decanted wine into unsophisticated polymer tumblers, handing one to the elder Dage before taking up her own.

"We met on asssjignment and...jI guesss we ljiked each otherrss companjy."

[Quarles P. Dage]

It was a telling that he could understand, and he allowed his smile to continue on unabated.

"That's wonderful! And a lot like how I met Quentin's mother."

The tumbler was held loosely, and he'd not yet taken a look to the open container of food.

"Bernice and I met at a dewback branding, and hit it off rather quickly. She was a firebrand back then, and I was just a ranch hand trying to make a living. Spent a good bit of time with each other before deciding to tie the knot."

Pausing with the tumbler halfway up, Quarles blinked in sudden thought.

"Has... he hasn't proposed yet, has he?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa made pains to keep the amusement at the fringes of her expression. A Dewback branding? That was so painfully folksy. She'd visited a ranch once on Fey'dann as a kid. There wasn't anything fun to do there, so maybe people just had to invent their fun? Meeting someone special over jabbing hot metal against a cow? Love at first sight, huh.

"That ssoundss rromantjic. jI thjink."

She was taking a sip of wine when Quarles asked the next question. A look of confusion crossed her features.

"Prropossed?"

[Quarles P. Dage]

Her reaction was enough to tell him that no, Quentin had not asked that very particular question. An inhale and a sip from his glass, and his free hand again waved at the air to dispel her question.

"Eh, I suppose he hasn't. No matter."

His attentions went to the contents of the box then, and the food that she had brought him.

"So tell me about this delightful looking meal you've brought back?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

There was something unsaid here, and T'yeellaa made a note to file it for later. What was proposing? Some human custom no doubt, and she could possibly guess as to the meaning of it. Had she picked up some disappointment in his expression that she didn't know? Humans weren't easy to read at times.

Quarles diverted the conversation before she could dwell on it any longer, and she opened the carton lid for the elder man. Inside were thinly-sliced parcels of raw meat, showing a rainbow of colors, and an assortment of accompaniments like sauces, fresh herbs, and the like.

"jIt'ss taa'u nintaai. Ssorrt of sstrreet food back home. jIt'ss not much, but jit'ss qujick, and Ssamuss sseemed to ljike jit when he trrjied jit."

She hoped her picks were safe enough for Samus's father to approve. She wasn't sure if her gai'tou was more adventurous or less than the average.

[Quarles P. Dage]

"Taa'u nintaai."

He made sure to enunciate each word thoroughly, hoping against hope that he'd not butchered the language.

The sight of it though was enough to bring a wide smile to his features, and the elder Dage set his glass down before clasping hands together in carefully metered excitement.

"Oh!"

A quick look to T'yeellaa before his eyes returned to the meal she'd brought back.

"This looks amazing! Please tell me that the rest of the food from your world is like this," one hand reached out then, a thin slice of meat plucked up with two fingers as he carefully inspected the cut and level of preparedness.

"Not overdone, barely touched by a cooker, just a bare crisp on the edges for a light crunch to go with the actual taste of it all... "

He ignored the sauces for now, and deposited the slice into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. A few moments passed before her swallowed.

"Delightful!"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Well, that was a relief.

"jI'm glad jyou ljike jit."

Dage the Elder was a lot more enthusiastic about it. Prying Samus's opinion about food was a struggle for him to nod and mutter "good".

"Prrobabljy sshould hold off on mosst Cjizerrji food though, unlesss jyou prreferr to catch jit."

At least it was a win for hospitality, and the K'ohta'rrou smiled. Maybe this was her moment. She jerked a thumb in the direction of the bedroom.

"Do jyou mjind jif jI, uh, get out of thesse ssjilkss?"

[Quarles P. Dage]

He was in the middle of another slice, one hand moving down to undo the lid of one of the sauce containers. A final chew and swallow, with fingers already plucking up a third slice, Quarles blinked as he stared at her for a moment, her words breaking through the delightful haze of rare meat.

"Of course!"

She looked uncomfortable enough, in those silly threads and shiny sashes that apparently she'd had to take off and put back on.

"Get comfy, by all means!"

The meat was dunked into the deep brown sauce as if in punctuation.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Thank jyou."

T'y nodded graciously, retrieving her shoes on her way back to the bedroom. The door slid shut. Ten minutes later, she returned in a more casual array of denims and a tee, with her hair down over her shoulders.

"Ahh," she sighed, "betterr. jI've had mjy fjill of forrmal djinnerrss forr the month."

She retrieved her wine, and left the kitchenette to sit on the couch, pushing to one side in an implied invitation for Quarles to join her.

"Sso, tell me about Ssamuss," she could barely contain the eagerness in asking the question, her eyes brightening with perked ears, "jI want to hearr about hjim grrowjing up."

[Quarles P. Dage]

He happily accepted the invitation, and took up his wine and food in a sweeping arm, only to delicately deposit it on the low caf table before taking up residence on the sofa.

"I can certainly tell you stories," a hand came up to adjust his glasses before going on. The smile on his lips was ever-present.

"Never had much sense when he was young though, so those stories might not paint him in a very flattering light."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's delight at that warning was manifest in a smile showing teeth.

"Ssometjimess embarrasssjing sstorrjiess arre fun too."

For her, that is. Oh he already got pink in the face over Quentin. She wasn't cruel, but there was something delightful in knowing those little things about your gai'tou that they didn't want anyone else to know.

[Quarles P. Dage]

"Well then."

Leaning back, he polished off another delightful piece of meat, chewing thoughtfully as he let his memories take him back. The glass of wine was reached for, and he washed his bite down with a modest sip before once more returning the cup to its' spot on the table.

"There was one time, when he wasn't but seven or eight cycles old... he had a sizeable enough collection of wooden Tinker Bricks that he always used to build settlements out of. Nothing too elaborate mind you."

Quarles let his eyes shift upwards to a spot on the ceiling as he remembered that particular day.

"One afternoon, he'd gotten it into his mind that he wanted to see what a smuggler camp looked like on fire; you know, the old frontier stories that a lot of the little ones were told, of how the law would sweep in and set fire to smuggler bases in an attempt to clean up the lawless planets. All very basic and normal for bedtime stories back then. Either way, Quentin had decided he wanted to see this for himself, and he went about building himself a smuggler base from his Tinker Bricks."

His hands moved to link together, fingers lacing with one another against his stomach.

"Problem was, he built his base at the foot of his bed, and his 'deadly fire laser blastgun' weren't anything but a plastic Sheriff Ander dart gun that Bernice had picked up at the local market. Normally it just shot those little plastic darts, but he'd managed to fit the tip of one of those darts with a bit of priming powder and dried grass."

He couldn't help the laugh then, a motion that caused his eyes to close in the throes of the memory.

"He got to see what a smuggler's base on fire looked like, alright; as well as the corner of his bed."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Oh!" T'yeellaa cupped a hand over her mouth in sympathy shock, but also to muffle a peel of laughter that threatened to follow.

"Goddesss, jI hope everrjyone wass okajy? jYou musst have been ljivjid!"

For want of old holos, T'yeellaa tried to imagine the scene in her head, but she couldn't quite turn back the clock and mentally make a cub out of Samus. It was just him, but smaller.

[Quarles P. Dage]

"Oh, everything was fine in the end, just some scorched bedposts and stern lectures about setting fire to things. He was a curious boy growing up, and Force knows Bernice and I didn't want to stifle him or kill his curiosity. He got in trouble without a doubt, but we weren't about to tan his hide with a switch from the ragwillow bush out back."

A final chuckle as the memory faded, and Quarles leaned forward to pluck up another thin slice of flesh, foregoing the sauce. He deposited it into his mouth with a satisfied 'mmmm', chewing slowly. It really was delightful, this food. It reminded him of the many meals he had enjoyed back home.

Swallowing, he looked to T'yeellaa.

"And you? Growing up I'm sure you were a difficult one to keep up with."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

To her chagrin, T'yeellaa couldn't agree with that. She was envious of Samus's free-wheeling suddenly.

"jI'm the fjirrsst-borrn, and mjy parrentss made cerrtajin that jI djdin't venturre verrjy farr frrom thejirr expectatjionss. No bedposst fjirress forr me, jI'm afrrajid. jI had to follow all the rruless. All mjy jyoungerr ssjibljingss werre the oness who got to get awajy wjith everrjythjing, and bjy the tjime jI rrealjized jit, jI wass too old to rrealljy pussh the boundarrjy."

She made a face, and flicked an ear.

"Orrrrr....majybe jI'm pusshjing the boundarrjy jusst forrtjy jyearrss too late."

[Quarles P. Dage]

"Oh?"

That she was the oldest child made sense, as far as her telling went. Elder children rarely had the long leash that their younger siblings invariably possessed. But, her talk of a late-blooming rebellion was enough to cause his eyes to focus on her, trying to pick apart the woman he sat beside.

"What sort of dastardly revolt have you formed up, then?"