Title: Maxed Out 3
Author: NurseDarry
Rating: GD (guard duty)
Disclaimer: George and Ridley, sittin' in a tree...
Timeline: Whenever, rally, but after BN, 2 is most appropriate

John is a very personable fellow. It is odd to know someone who looks just like you, but that is the truth of it at this strange place. He lives with the "Dean" and the two of them play a game called "hockey". He has promised to show me and I look forward to testing my skills against his in this arena. I have it on good authority that this "Dean" is a good player, as well as a good academician. As a dice player, John is adequate, but his company is more what I seek.

I had started spending more time here in the taverna. From here I see and hear many things. It is also the gathering place of many of the building's inhabitants. From here, too, I can see much of the place's goings on. When the mood strikes me I pace the corridors, checking that all is well, as my Jael would have wanted me too.

A man, the other General, the "President", nods to me as he makes his way back to his office after his journey home. He will not leave the room for some time, I gather, although he has many visitors, perhaps updating him on the status of his empire. Or perhaps he is just spending time in his ladies' arms. Either way, his administrative prowess impresses me.

My warrior princesses had left me temporarily in order to pursue a "course" in some study. Whatever she is doing sounds noble and I wish her well. I do miss her though. She promised to return to me and I will be patient. This is not the first time I have been separated from a loved one.

My other woman, the Diva, seems to have deserted me. I glimpse her from time to time, running from one place to another, often pursued buy the long-haired rascal who was so insensitive to her during the "trial". I wish him the best, because, what little as I presume to know about women, THAT look I recognise. He is most certainly in for a battle.

Quintus has recently reappeared to the training field, in a foul temper. He wears a very long scarf of a strange material, which he called "yarn", with two words sewn into its pattern: Go Away. I feel that he will explain this peculiar item of clothing in due time, but for now he seems content enough to regain his former position among the troops, although I sometimes catch him glancing furtively and wistfully toward this building from time to time.

I walk past the door marked OSA. I know not what the letters stand for, but inside I see a tall dark-haired woman wearing a diaphanous shift running around the room after an animal made of yellow metal (perhaps gold). She holds a large club, not unlike the one wielded by the taverna mistress. The animal is speaking to her, but she ignores its entreaties and, instead just snarls "Kim will die for this" over and over.

Another room, in which sits a young woman wearing a crown like those favoured by my Diva. She talks to another metal animal, excitedly showing it a parchment with a picture of the President in a disrobed state. The animal appears to be unimpressed. The woman holds up several identical parchments and looks at them all at once, her eyes misting over.

I pass the door saying "Clinic", which, as I have learned, is the small hospital. I hear a soft tapping sound coming from above the door and then voices. It is Cicero and the physician, discussing a building project of some sort. Something is making too much noise and needs to be removed or adjusted. The dialogue makes no sense to me until the surgeon declares that my servant had done enough work for one day. The soft tapping above the door becomes a loud rhythmic pounding against the door and I retreat, relatively sure that no danger presents itself to either occupant. Or if it should, neither would notice.

Further down the hallway is the dark crypt-like room, which used to house the large taverna that my Jael and I had guarded. In here, through the cracked creaky door, I see a woman reclining on a settee. She is reading a parchment saying "Classifieds" to a young man in lavender, who stands behind her, plaiting her hair. With each word, he shakes his head. I had seen this young man in the taverna with my servant. He seemed very noble and almost haughty. Several times the woman looks up at another who must be in the room, but whom I cannot see. She speaks to him, but receives only one-word responses.

I pause to glance out the large clear window into the grounds. A young woman is perched on the back of one of the two-wheeled chariots so many of the men here seem to fancy, while her man drives it around the pavement. The woman wears a jacket of brightest scarlet and the motif upon the back sports the words "Pink Banana Preferred Customer."

I walk silently up the stairs, lest evil be lurking ahead of me. I smile at my own thoughts. I am not afraid of what I might find, but the phrase reminds me of my Jael.

Stopping at a door marked "Mediation" I hear a soft roaring and quiet giggling. I know that there are many tigers roaming this building but am sure they pose no threat. The worst I have ever seen one of these big cats do was relieve itself upon the scrawny boy who wears the robes and helps the gardener. I hear a loud voice emanate from the room. "Tiger's chosen the driver for the long par four. He tees up...It's drifting left, Curtis. I think it's in the rough. Yes, it's in the rough. Oh, it's buried. What a bad break." I believe that this may be some training exercise for the animals, but I press on without hearing more.

From a nearby door, I hear Haken speaking to a young woman. "Wenchen," he says, only to be tut-tutted by the lady. "It's 'Wench', Moose. Try it again." Another male voice says, "Try this, big guy." Haken's voice rings out again. "Ka-nockers." To which the woman cries, "Syd, we said we'd work with Hooked on Phonics, not 'Playboy'." A ringing sound erupts. The woman speaks again. "Yes, Master, Ben and Jerrys, right away." The door opens and the woman heads off down toward the taverna on the first floor pausing quickly to smile at me. From inside the room, Haken speaks again. "Titzanass."

The next room I pass has a red light shining above it. I wonder at its significance. Silence reigns until a voice says, "When did you take that? It's Xani and Emmy." A loud feminine squeal breaks the silence. "Oh my GOD!" I rush in, sword drawn. "IDIOT!" two women shout at me in unison. "You've just exposed all this film!" I am roughly manhandled out the door and it is slammed in my face.

I bid a hasty retreat back down the stairs and out of the building. I see the young scrawny boy below one of the windows planting flowers. I stop to tell him how jasmine exudes a fine scent that wafts through the breeze in the evening, but he just scowls at me and mutters something about roses. I press on.

From the small outbuilding by the garage I hear the odd groundskeeper and his lady discussing the fabric of the colourful attire he wears. I have no clue why this imposing fellow would wear an orange costume, but assume that his warrior tribe expects it of him and say nothing.

I scout the grounds carefully, hearing my men making ready for the evening upon the field of green on which we are camped. I decide not to return immediately, my tent being lonely without Jael and her battle dog, and only Quintus and his bad temper waiting to greet me.

I return to the main building and pass by the General's room, once again. Glancing in, I see two women gazing at a box upon the desk. One, dressed all in leather, is explaining to the other that there are many "screensavers" that come with a "window" and that anyone of these will suffice in the interim. I have no idea what they discuss. It is another subject I may broach with John.

I reenter the taverna, and make my way to the bar. The woman tending it smiles at me and hands me a tankard of ale. I take it and briefly notice that it has an object floating in it. I pull out the object and study it. It is a fish, made out of a substance with which I am not familiar. The woman behind the bar calls into the small room behind her and her assistant appears, one of these strange fish dangling from her lips. The bar taverna mistress chides her servant for not cleansing the tankard properly, but I hold up an imposing hand, staving off her harsh words. "It is all right, mistress. I do not mind." And I carefully remove the fish and hand it to the young woman.

With the knowledge that the grounds are indeed safe, and that calm is once again restored to my new found home, I take a seat at my twin's table, marveling at such goings on.