Where the Tame Thyme Grows

[Desperado]

The beauty of nature surrounded him, flowers and shrubs and trees surrounding the little area of grass that he came to, too disturbed to sleep. It was dark in his room, his little dormitory looking frightening in the pale moonlight that streamed in from his lonely window. So he had sojourned quietly to the gardens.

He did not know what had drawn him here to stave off his fear in his his white T-shirt and sweatpants, but here he had decided to sit down, and lay down, not to sleep, but to wait for sleep. Soon he would grow tired and go back to his room and sleep, blissfully unaware of the dark that crowded in on him in that place.

But that time seemed far away as he looked at the stars and gibbous moon, the wind whistling quietly by him. As these sensations sank in, he began to feel happy, like he belonged here. In his mind's eye, he imagined a horse tethered nearby, and a campfire behind him, a little tent set up six feet beyond that. Stars above. Ground below. Contentment swept over Jacob in these surroundings. He absently turned his head to see the woman he thought was laying next to him...only to find a shrub a few feet away from his face. Perfectly trimmed. Domesticated.

His contentment shattered, leaving tiny cold fragments in his soul that made him feel empty. Just a dream. And a far-flung one at that. He didn't even know how to ride a horse.

He continued to lay, quietly, in this tamed wild, not realizing just how appropriate it was that this place called to him.

((open tag))

[tara]

Tara's never one for sleeping. Hasn't been in a long time. Not that she doesn't like it but she just can't and doesn't have to and she doesn't actually mind that, 'cause having energy and being able to bounce around all day long and overnight too is fun. And helpful, what with an energetic girl to entertain all day.

But now Callie's supposed to be in bed - as with the rest of the family, really - so she's wandered off outside. It's nice, just the moon's light and few artificial ones, and the energy seeping in is almost better than coffee (except that there's nothing better than coffee except chocolate-coffee, but that only wins by default because chocolate and coffee both win and so together defeat the world).

And it's too late, she reasons, to wander over and babble at the Priest - he's nice to talk to, but she thinks he probably needs sleep once in awhile so she doesn't want to disturb him this late (well, early, being well after midnight, but that's just a technicality because dark, in her mind, equals nighttime 'cause mornings are evil and so she doesn't like to think of this as morning) just to babble at him.

The gardens are pretty at night. Pretty in the day, too, but Tara's never one for sunlight, never has been, so moonlight makes it sort of glow but not, just ...nice, and awesome, and stuff. Pretty.

'Course, it also makes it a lot harder to see. Even though it's her "element", she doesn't actually see any better in it than the average person who doesn't have eyesight-mutations or a flashlight or something. So she definitely doesn't see someone laying on the ground (...who? Why? Is it a dead body?!) until she trips over them.

"Eeep!" And that's definitely not the best response to tripping over a person-who-might-be-dead, not very dignified or intelligent or anything like that, but whatever, it's what comes out first, and she can be forgiven for her undignified-unintelligent-whatever because it's just not something normal or practiced, so there.

[Desperado]

Jacob lay soundly on the ground, hands crossed on his chest, pondering the mysteries of the universe in an effort to stave off reality. If God had created the world and all of the people in it, then why did he make some superior over others? Wouldn't a God that wanted the people's of the earth to worship Him and Him alone have not made a race that was supposed to be worshipped? It didn't make any sense. Unless God didn't exist, and it was all just a ploy to get the people to accept the status quo, to explain away all the things that they couldn't explain. All of the tragedies in life needed an explanation.

So...effectively...God was created to be the world's scapegoat. To justify actions that, under normal moral codes, would be unjustifiable, and to answer questions about why things had to happen the way that they did. But then, what was a "normal moral code?" One person's morals could be quite different from another's. For example, Jacob believed that murder was wrong, but Commander Guthried ordered people murdered all the time, so he obviously believed it was right. Out of the two of them, who was correct? Commander Guthrie, obviously, because he was Superior. But God decreed that "Thou Shalt Not Kill," so Jacob was in the right, right? But if the Superiors created God, and not the other way around, then anything God "said" was moot.

This lovely philosophical dialogue would have probably continued until Jacob reached Enlightenment had it not been for the timely intrusion of someone nearly tripping over him and screaming.

"AAH!" Came the sharp cry in return, as Jacob was very startled to find anyone else outside at this time of night. He jumped a little, sitting up and scrambling to his feet. He had no idea who this person was. He had never seen her before. Wait. Maybe. Had she been at the ball? Maybe. It was hard to tell in the moonlight.

Ok, it was hard to tell beceause Jacob had not been paying attention at all to who was coming in and out at that darned ball unless they had an invite. And even then he didn't remember most of them. He remembered some names, though, just not faces. Like Larza. Ok, he remembered that name because it was kinda hard to forget, and it made him giggle a little inside whenever he remembered it. What? It was a funny name?

"Um...uh...who are you?" He looked at her, trying to find a distinguishing feature. She was young and pretty. Maybe that would help narrow it down.

Yeah. Right.

[tara]

"AAH!"

Okay, not a dead body, 'cause dead bodies don't yell (unless it's a zombie! But, no, she doubts it, and that's getting a little far out of hand).

And she's pretty much sure that's a good thing 'cause stumbling upon a mutilated corpse? Scarring for life, more than likely, and she so doesn't want to be scarred for life and end up locked away with visions of bloody people in her mind for forever and ever babbling like a loon about what she's seen and the like. 'Cause even though the idea of walls with padding is kinda neat, she doesn't think she'd much like the rest of the crazy-stuff. So, yes, good. And judging from the startled yell, he probably wasn't a serial killer waiting for a victim, either, meaning she's safe on that front as well.

He's on his feet before she is (though that could be in part because instead of standing or even trying to she's settled Indian-style, looking up somewhere between eek and sheepish), and seems like he's probably startled but trying not to be, or something like that and so she reasons she can stop with the scared, though it's harder dropping the sheepish-embarassed because, dude, she so just tripped over him! And he could definitely be someone important who'd be pretty much not-happy, and that would be bad, so she really hopes he doesn't yell at her...

"Um...uh...who are you?"

"Tara." she responds lightly (relieved, 'cause he's not yelling, yay!), then realizes that's probably not going to be all that specific because it's a big world and who knows how many Tara's there are out there, right? But it's not like people would know her by full name either 'cause she's not actually famous whatsoever so giving last name wouldn't help either, so she settles for - "I'm the nanny-person over ...there." The pause is so she can properly locate the direction of the Research Center, and then wave vaguely towards that general area.

She pulls herself off the grass, glad she's not wearing shoes because shoes would have meant high heels which are impossible to stand back up in, and barefoot it's so much easier, offering a smile as she brushes bits of grass that may or may-not actually be on her. "Sorry t', y'know, trip over ya... hope I didn't hurt y'too much. Or, I mean, at all, 'cause hurting people's not very cool, and I'd feel bad."

[Desperado]

He watched her carefully. If she was some person trying to get onto the grounds for some diabolical purpose, then, well, wait, Jacob was screwed as there was probably nothing he could do to stop her. Except maybe break her in half. If she didn't have super-strength or something like that. Maybe she was human, which would have been kinda nice, but he doubted it. He had never seen her before, and he definitely knew all of the servants. Except the new ones.

Crap!

"I'm the nanny-person over ...there." He looked over where she pointed (which, in hindsight, was probably a stupid idea), and noted the general direction of the Genetic Center, where he went for his sessions with Mrs. Emma. So she was the nanny for Mrs. Frost's daughter? Well, as far as whether she was Superior or human...that answered nothing. She could be either.

"I'm...one of the Princesses' servants." He was about to tell her his name, but if she was a Superior then she wouldn't care, and if she was an Inferior then she might ask for it. Course, if she was a Superior she would probably report him for prowling the grounds late at night. Oh, well.

[tara]

"I'm...one of the Princesses' servants."

Oh. So that means he's probably Human, doesn't it? And she's supposed to not-like humans, so she probably shouldn't talk to him. But, really, nothing wrong with talking, is there? 'Cause conversation isn't a mutation, so it's not like he's incabable of talking, as he's already displayed by, er, talking, and there's no one else up at this hour.

The moment of thought doesn't slow down the quick reply-time, or the excited-hyper tone of it, either. Becuase, really, as pretty as it looks from the outside, being inside for the ball had been amazing, and she'd so love being there all the time.

"Ooh, so you get t'be in the Castle all the time? That's pretty much awesome, there." And, yes, she sort of bounces in place slightly for a second, but, dude, castle! Then she sort of calms (mostly because she realizes how near full-on bouncing-and-squeeing-mode she's getting, and she doesn't think he'd really appreciate that), and tilts her head slightly. "But what's your name, though? 'Cause "Princess' servant" so can't be it. No offense if it is, though, I mean - people name people the weirdest things sometimes!"

[Desperado]

Well, he now knew why she was up at this late hour. Obviously, she had had far too much caffeine. At least, he hoped that was the answer. If she was like this all the time...wow, he just felt pity for Ms. Frost. Still, she had asked his name, so that meant that she might have been a human. Wait, so Dr. McCoy and his wife were letting an Inferior take care of their child?

Somehow, that didn't seem right, but he couldn't exactly remember just what it was called. He would probably remember tomorrow sometime, when it was totally inappropriate for him to do so. Like when he was getting serving King Magnus his breakfast or something.

Feeling a little calmed down, he decided to sit on the ground again. Standing was a pain, considering that just yesterday he had stood for about eight hours straight, not moving from one spot throughout it all even though at about hour six he had needed to go to the bathroom. Stupid ball.

So, yeah, his love for the Castle probably wasn't as great as she thought it was. But no need to dampen her spirits. She looked all happy. If there was one thing Jacob didn't like doing, it was making women sad.

Although, there were times...

"Uh...you may call me Jacob, madam." He still wasn't sure if she was human or Superior, so he decided to still use the formal title. Of course, he was already sitting down, which he probably shouldn't have done unless she told him to. However, she didn't really seem to mind.

Stupid rules of etiquette. Why couldn't everyone just get along?

[tara]

So he doesn't seem all that brilliantly excited over the castle's awesomeness, himself. And apparently her enthusiasm isn't all that contagious or anything like that. He doesn't really seem ...at all pleased. Not that he seems displeased, though, or anything, but... yeah. He just sits back on the ground, and she hesitates a second, then reasons she may as well, and sits down too, resuming the position she'd turned her falling into, earlier.

"Uh...you may call me Jacob, madam."

"Madam? Me? Pssh, yeah right!"

The surprise at the formality, used on her of all people (because she can see people non-royalty, even, being called that - like Ms. Frost or something - but definitely not her, because she's not even remotely dignified, or even old or anything!), means she breaks into giggles right after, before realizing he's probably supposed to talk like that, and, well, that's sad! So she stops giggling (well, stifles them best she can, 'cause the image of her as someone worthy of being called "madam" is still amusing) and moves on. Sort of.

"Yeah, definitely don't have to call me that. At all. It's a little scary, 'cause then I feel old or something... Anyhow, s'nice t'meet ya."

[Desperado]

Well, that reaction was different. He'd never, surprisingly, had anyone laugh in his face before. It was strangely comforting, actually. Very real. Maybe it was because she wasn't laughing at him per se, but at the perceived absurdity of the situation. He actually found himself smiling a bit, for the first time in a while. Well, for the first time in a while that didn't have anything to do with perverted thoughts. Or malicious thoughts. Or food. He liked food. Food made him happy.

"My apologies...Tara," he managed to choke out. That had actually been kinda hard to say. Weird. It was just a word, a name, specifically. It shouldn't be that hard to say. Yet, it felt as if something had tried to prevent him from saying it. As if something inside his brain told him that she shouldn't be referred to as such, that she was better than that.

Nevermind that. She obviously wanted a conversation, and Jacob was not one to deny pretty women the things that they wanted so long as they asked nicely. It was when they didn't ask nicely that things, sometimes, went badly.

"Nice to meet you, too." The only problem was...Jacob was horrible at conversation. There were certain things they didn't teach you how to do in servant training. Holding a conversation was one of them. So...now what?

"So...what's it like being a nanny?"

[tara]

"My apologies...Tara,"

"No worries!" Tara responds cheerfully, with a grin, half-shrug and vague gesture as if brushing the apology off. She doesn't really notice the way it sounded almost like it was hard for him to say her name, 'cause, really, she's already mentally wandering off on another tangent, as per usual, wondering, as he says it's nice to meet her, just what sort of awesome-famous people he's met 'cause he was around the Princesses. Probably a lot, which is definitely very awesome.

"So...what's it like being a nanny?"

"It's pretty much awesome. Pretty much just gotta keep Cal' entertained and out of trouble an' stuff, which is usually fun. Pretty easy, 'cept when she's in a mood but, y'know, whatever. Plus being this close t'the castle? Totally rocks."

Ah, babbling again... Totally easy to lose track of the talking and carry it off too long. Whatever, though, he probably won't mind. (Hopefully, anyhow.) And she debates asking what his job is like, but decides that would probably sound all high-and-mighty or something.

"So how long've you been around here?" That's better, right? More like conversation, less like snooty curiousity. She absently leans back on the heels of her hands. The grass is way softer and more ...fluffy than grass other places, she notes. Probably 'cause it's Royal Grass, 'cause everything Royal's always all plush and shiny and expensive...

[Desperado]

Jacob listened intently, more or less, to her rantings, wondering just what she was on to be this hyper yet again. Whatever it was, he wanted some. Then she asked him a question, which was definitely something he wasn't used to. Most definitely. This meant that he had to actually talk back to the person he was "talking" to in a manner that wasn't "Yes, milord," or "Yes, milady."

It was almost like a real conversation. The only problem was that he had no answer for her, because he couldn't remember how long it had been. It wasn't as if he had a calendar or something to keep track of days. For that matter, what was today? What month was it? He wondered, idly, if his birthday was coming up. The only reason it would matter would be because he just kinda wanted to know. It was nice to know how old one was.

"Uh...I don't know." he finally admitted, sheepishly. "I think it's been a long time." Had it been a year? Two? Less? Why was that part of his memory so fuzzy. Wait...lots of parts of his memory were fuzzy. There was a lot he didn't remember. Ms. Frost said it was either memory suppression or just really bad memory loss. Either was possible.

He had a headache. Probably from not eating that much in the last few days. He hoped he could get waffles for breakfast. He always hoped he could get waffles for breakfast. But he would probably get toast.

[tara]

He takes a second to reply, which she spends wondering just what they do to the grass here to make it so soft. Genetically modified grass? Because that's both creepy and cool, if so, that they could do that! What if they somehow made grass that was so modified it went evil and ate people alive? She's slightly less comfortable with her seating than she was a few moments ago, at that thought, but then he replies and she sorta forgets about people-eating grass (though she thinks she might have a nightmare about that at some point - walking across a field and just, - wham - you're mauled by the grass itself and dead! Would make a neat horror movie...).

"Uh...I don't know. I think it's been a long time."

"Cool," she responds cheerfully. Sure it's a little weird that he doesn't know more specific, but whatever, days probably all blend together after awhile, and, really, that's sort of a sad thought, though working in the castle can't possibly be dull, can it? Always shiny and important things and people to see, all sorts of new and interesting stuff... Even being in the research center she's constantly entertained as much as she's entertaining Callie, really, 'cause it's just so neat around here!

"D'you like it? I mean, better than whatever you were doing before? What did you do before?" she questions curiously, offering a smile and absently pulling a few blades of grass out of the ground (and hoping, absently, that no one will notice and freak out because she did that. Maybe they'll think it was a rabbit or some critter or something... or do they even have them around here anymore? Whatever) and toying with them.

"Oh. An' if you don' wanna answer tha's fine. I babble and ask random questions a lot, apparently, so - sorry. Don' mean t'be annoying or make your brain bleed. I've heard that's not healthy for ya. Whatever, though, I don't think it'll literally bleed..." she tosses on as an afterthought, with a slight sheepish laugh and half-shrug as she realizes she again managed to run off on a long and babble-eqsue tangent.

[Desperado]

Those were all very good, headache-inducing questions. He hadn't even had time to think about them before she told him that if he didn't want to answer it was all well and good. Which was good, because he was still too dizzy from trying to understand her rapid-fire speech to form a cohesive thought.

"Uh, Ok." Yeah, he was a sharp one, that Jacob. Full of rapier-like wit and snappy comebacks. He wondered what would happen if he just stopped talking. She would probably continue talking. He could only hope that she would talk about something that he would understand.

[tara]

Yeah, she probably-definitely talked to much, didn't she? 'Cause now he's not talking much and seems like she's melted his brain from the babbling and she sorta feels bad that he has such a low tolerance to it - and, of course, that she did it in the first place, but, really, don't people talk to him for more than orders or directions or... (or, she doesn't like to think but does automatically before pushing it away, mean things, insults and punishments and the like?) whatever?

So she's not sure if she should tone it down, or just keep at it, because if she talks enough he'll get used to it, right? Or maybe he won't and being less talkative would be better for him 'cause she doesn't want to overload his brain and kill him or anything...

Not that she thinks that would actually happen from just talking 'cause she hasn't killed anyone yet and she's been far more babble-ey than this. Quite often is, really. No fatalities, not even any comatose or otherwise injured, so...

Still, she goes for more conversation and less babble, keeping it to a simple - "So, what're ya doin' out here this late?" Yes, definitely curiosity in the tone, because she's pretty much the only person she knows who's ever up at these sorts of hours (at least, she thinks she is), and wandering around (or, laying in the garden) in the dark is just a tad strange. Unless it's her, but that's beside the point because she has a reason and she always does it, and... yes. So it's not abnormal to her.