Who Aignes, K'zre
What Czarduinath invites Yasminath and K'zre to a tea party. There's a lot of tulle.
When Summer - Month 6 of Turn 2720
Where Czarduinath's Weyr, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Czarduinath's Weyr
It's a weyr


Sweltering summer evenings can be overwhelmingly stuffy while a storm brews up but doesn't seem to have the common decency to just go on and get on with it and let everybody go about their business. The weather probably isn't the only thing Aignes wishes would just get on with it tonight, but alas, Czarduinath clearly has no intentions of flying ANYWHERE tonight. She's not even entertaining her usually hordes of suitors. The ever sparkly, but slightly more sparkly than usual green is occupying her well padded couch, twitching her tail ever so often and making sure to time a dramatic sigh ever so often. Her rider meanwhile is busy more in the weyr proper. The normally spic and span abode has been momentarily taken over by a fever-dream of tulle and ribbons. Somewhere within it all, Aignes is rustling and muttering through pins tucked in her mouth. Finally enough is enough and Czarduinath announces it since nobody was paying attention anyways. « I'm BORED! »

« You're bored? » Whether she meant to or not, Czarduinath's certainly caught Yasminath's attention, inquisitive voice laden with twinkling white moonlight as she mentally peeks in. « What do you want to do? » So innocently asked, that question, more for her own curiosity than because she is seeking to assist Czardi with her predicament (Though of course she'd do that, too! If Yas can help, she'll definitely try to help). And K'zre? He's… probably around. Muttering about something or other. Scowling at things (like his weyrmate. Who kinda likes it). Looking for an excuse to get out of the way of what is shaping up to be a raucous Guys Night In (even if "guys night" includes Kaetryn, and NOT Kez) with food, games, and probably more alcohol than is safe.

« Yas, darling!!! » Unintended or not, the emerald sequins shine brighter as Czarduinath seizes on her sister's curiosity. « I want you to come here. It's been soooo long since we've had time together, don't you think? Just us and no… boys. » There's a mental snort of disdain for all male kind (Kez probably excluded at the moment). The weyr is indeed quiet enough to hear a pin drop as Aignes lets one fall while she waves her hand that just got pricked. A quick little lick of the blood drop to make sure it doesn't get on her fabric and sewing implements are carefully set down for the moment. It might be hot enough that even this prudish greenrider has donned some brightly colored pajama shorts and tank, but still she'll brave the stove long enough to set a kettle of water going.

« No boys at all? Not even Nymionth? » this is Okay! Yasminath might be a little miffed that the bronze can't join them for cuddles, but there's something kinda fun and feisty about saying 'no boys allowed!' and she'll jump on the train. For a short ride, at least. « But K'zre can come! » because he is, apparently, the exception. Excited at the prospect of hanging out with Czarduinath, even if she's not at all sure what that is going to entail, it takes only a few minutes before the less sparkly green is landing on the ledge and kneeling to allow Kez to dismount. And clearly, the summer weather has messed with his head (That, or he decided to BOOK IT out of his weyr) because he's clad in a simple pair of cotton pants and… not much else. Pants. That's it. No socks. No shoes. Not even a shirt, because it's way to hot for that (and he can get away with it, being a boy. >.>). There might even be a relief sigh (or maybe it's trepidation? Czardi is definitely a-glow) as he makes his way a little further into the weyr. "Aignes?" is called in tones that are only slightly uncertain, while Yas warbles like a happy bird at her bedazzled sister. « I am here! »

Any debate is internal and brief. « Yes, Kez can. But NOT Nymionth. Definitely » Czarduinath will cede that the male rider is allowable seeing as he is Yasminath's. The bronze however… the bronze is most definitely what she doesn't want to see tonight. The irritably twitching tail is discarded for some excited feet wiggling. And only as Yasminath is landing on the ledge, does she croon out the warning to her rider. « Aignes, you might want to get two cups. We have guests!!! » With a hop and a skip, the dainty green scoots over to her sister to give an affectionate nuzzle. Aignes blinks and battles out of the tulle cloud carrying a single cup and the kettle. "Guests?" And then pajama-Kez is spotted and probably the only thing stopping her from recoiling in horror is the vessel of hot water she's carrying. "Where is your shirt?" Nevermind why he's here. The shirt is clearly the more important thing.

This is fine. Kez would prefer that Nymionth stay far, far away from the glowing Czarduinath, even if Yasminath holds no such concerns. Giddy for no reason except that her sister seems giddy, Yasminath feet-wiggles along with her. And then it becomes a whole body wiggle as she rustles her wings and dances from side to side. « So fun! » And they haven't even done anything yet. Meanwhile, at the legion of doom… er, inside the weyr… K'zre appears baffled by the sea of tulle, gaze drifting over the mess of fabric before settling on Aignes and her kettle. His shirt? "At home. It's hot." And he sees nothing at all wrong with it, though he'll chance a glance at his own chest just to be sure something hasn't gone awry. "It's fine," he decides, waving away that horror with a lift of his hand and a little flip-flip of his wrist. "Do you need assistance?"

« We should… we should… I don't know. » The normally ever composed Czarduinath stops her wiggling. « I didn't think that far. » With that admission, she sweeps over to her couch and gracefully plops down, although there's plenty of room on that quilt for Yas as well. Aignes hasn't quite yet been preparing for the legion of doom (that's be a lot more black and red), but the blues and greens of the light fabric are definitely out for world domination. She casts a suspicious eye at her clutchmate. "How much do you know about gown making?" And then manners are remembered as well. "Would you like some tea?"

« That's alright! » Yasminath is perfectly content with no agenda, happy to trot after her sister to join her on the quilt. A little trip over her feet means that her descent is more of a crash landing than a graceful sprawl, a quick « Oops! » coming before she's giggling moonbeans and starlight. She's fine! She's got this! « I like your weyr, » she decides, giving the space a look-around. Much like Kez, actually, though his apprehension is only growing at all that fabric. "Not a thing," he admits, unperturbed as he slowly pushes this one this way, and that one that way, until an acceptable path seems to be made. He *might* be trying to discreetly organize and color-code on his way (at least, all the blues seem to be landing in the same direction, and all the greens in another…) "I meant, do you want help cleaning up," he clarifies, nudging a stubborn bit with his (bare!) foot. "Yes, actually. Tea sounds lovely."

Luckily, that ledge is very fully decked out in quilts and some dragon sized pillows. Not a single sharp edge to be found on that little fall! Dragons can't beam, but Czarduinath's mental sparkles shine brighter and even her hide seems to take on more of a shine. « Thank you! You should totally get some for yourself! I'm sure you could get a quilt with the moons and some roses and maybe even a bunny! » The emerald sequins swirl with ribbons and slowly take on the different colors as she paints the picture with words and thoughts as well. Aignes waves that empty cup dismissively as she gently steps through the tulle river as Kez admits he doesn't know gownmaking, but at the acceptance of tea has her thrusting the cup at him and quickly (but carefully) pouring it. Once she has a free hand, she claims a cushion out from underneath the sea of fabric. "You normally clean up after you finish a project." And yes, she saw the bare foot nudge. She doesn't say anything, but there's definitely a visible cheek twitch.

Yasminath considers this. Or, rather, she thinks about it for a moment and decides « That's a wonderful idea! I love it! » She hasn't even seen it. Just the idea of it, and now the mental image painted by her sister. « With pillows — OH! Maybe the pillows can be shaped like moons and roses! » Poor Nymionth. The herd of stuffed animals already occupying their ledge is about to be joined by a mound of pillows and quilts. At least it will be cozy. "But how do you find anything while you're working?" wonders Kez, who might be a bit suspicious now about what might be laying beneath all that fabric. Tea accepted with a murmured, "Thanks," he tips his head to the side and considers the weyr as a whole. "It is a nice space, if you ignore the mess." 'The mess' being the fabric, naturally. Of course, Kez would probably live in sterile, operation-ready conditions if left to his own devices.

Knowing F'inn, Kez might need those operation ready conditions. Especially if guys night gets particularly wild. Aignes takes a deep breath before gathering up an armful of tulle and reclaiming her own seat. "I find things because I remember where I put them." And the suspiciousness might be warranted. Although normally Aignes would pick up any dropped pins immediately, she's been a little distracted lately. Watch the toesies! The kettle is set on a trivet which wasn't under tulle at all, but rather on the bookshelf, safely away from any delicate fabric, while she stares at Kez. "There's no mess." She'll stand or rather sit by that statement. Czaduinath lets out a delighted croon as Yasminath carries on with the idea. « That'll be just perfect! You could even have them rose scented as well! » Hopefully nobody has allergies in that weyr.

Too true. It's a wonder Kez doesn't just carry his first-aid kit with him at all times… oh wait. He kinda does. But it's for his job! Those suspicious looks just get more suspicious when a chair is unearthed (untulled?), brown eyes following Aignes before they dip down to trace a path to another place to sit. He's definitely going to be careful about where he puts his feet, even if he's not necessarily looking for pins (maybe he caught that cheek-twitch from his early nudging?). "Mm," comes in return, K'zre's mouth pressed into a little line that prevents him from offering any sort of counter to her declaration. "Is this gown… for you?" he wonders, eyeing the weaver at her chair before reaching out to carefully de-tulle his own and take a seat. This is clearly the most civilized, proper pajama-tea-party the Weyr has ever known.

As the tulle gets shuffled down, some flutters off of the mannequin that has been primely stationed in the middle of all this madness. Most others would have a klah table, but not Aignes. She has a sewing dummy that's currently only wearing a bodice that's even more sparkly than Czarduinath if that were possible. The question of the wearer has the weaver tilting her head. "Who else would it be for?" Never mind that it's her whole craft to take commissions on a daily basis. Even as she sips her own tea with pinkies out, there's a bit of mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Unless you're wanting one. This one wouldn't fit but I'm sure it'd leave F'inn speechless." And probably everybody else too!

K'zre's gaze goes from sparkly-bodice, to Aignes, to bodice and back again. But perhaps he's learned a thing or two over the past few turns, because rather than comment (and he dearly wants to comment, just look at that face!) he sips his tea instead. And manages not to choke. His gaze slides not-so-innocently toward the ledge, and then back again, and his cup is dropped to settle on his knee, both hands around it. "It's far too flashy for me," he decides after a moment of honest consideration. "And I don't wear dresses." Just in case it was in question. "I've plenty of other ways to leave F'inn speechless." Most of them good, a few of them not as good. Only fair, given the bronzerider's penchant for dangerous deeds. "It is… pretty though," he decides hesitating over the word choice but opting for what seems like a safe choice. "And the green will match Czarduinath." Priorities!

If the bodice were on Aignes, she'd probably take offense to the staring, although that kind of dress kind of guarantees it. Especially since the sparkly beading seems to accentuate certain assets the intended wearer might not have much of. As for the counter-claim about speechless F'inn, she almost snorts out her tea but brings a hand up to cover. A polite cough since this is a CIVILIZED tea party. "It is. Czarduinath seems certain we can find an occasion to wear it." And what an occasion that might be! And then the tulle in her lap is tucked carefully away beside her chair. At least some floor is visible now as she turns away from the dress (mostly… it's just so shiny and pretty it keeps attracting her back) to her visitor. "So, what brings you over? Everything is alright with F'inn, right?" That is actual concern, she's not just worried she might have a bereaved couch crasher for the foreseeable future although that would be horrible. For Kez as well as herself.

Especially given it looks like Kez might have to fight the tulle for the rights to that couch! But there's a quick little nod of his head that seeks to dispel that concern, though K'zre offers a somewhat tired sigh and almost a roll of his eyes when he explains that, "He's having a guys night. With Kaetryn. It's…" A grimace, complete with nose-wrinkle, "noisy. And messy," messy-ish. "They're playing cards and drinking and…" Basically, being boys. "I was going to help in the infirmary, but then Yasminath insisted we come here instead." Something like that, at least! A head-tilt toward the bodice and he decides, "You could always wear it to a Gather. Or even for the Hatching feast. There will be occasions, though clearly it is not suitable for every day."

Aignes opens her mouth and shuts it. The finger raised to point out the objection also drops since it looks like maybe Czarduinath and Yasminath have not-so-officially set up there own girls night. With K'zre included. So Kaetryn can be in boys night. "I hope he's not planning on making you clean it up." There are lines that should not be crossed. And whoever makes the mess, should clearly be the one to clean it, right? Proddy Aignes will fight F'inn on this if he tries to not clean it up. Or nag him more likely. She purses her lips as she considers the dress-wearing options. "Hatching feast maybe, but not the hatching. Even the galleries are too hot. Too bad I didn't have this when there was that party aboard the Yokohama. It would have made an excellent costume."

A snort is K'zre's clear agreement with Aignes' opinion on mess-makers. "He knows better." F'inn? Definitely going to be cleaning up his own mess (or HE can sleep on the couch!). "I am more worried about how much they might drink," and whether Kaetryn might be required to spend the night to sleep it off. "But, I think they were just going to play dragon poker…" So hopefully no mess, and hopefully no loss of dignity. For anyone. "I've never seen the appeal of betting, though at least cards allows for talent, rather than luck." Unlike betting on hatchlings! Speaking of Hatchings… "Oh no. I couldn't imagine wearing… that… to a Hatching." And not just for the heat of it. Kez is perhaps envisioning all sorts of mishaps that such a gown might cause (and he's not even considering the distraction-factor). A few sips of tea, and he 'hmms' in consideration. "But… it's not a costume? Unless it's supposed to be a… a tree or something?"

"Only poker?" Aignes' tone and raised eyebrow might hint at a worry for more mischief than just cards. Something scandalous, perhaps! As for dislike of cards, she nods agreements. "My brothers would swear they could know when they had the perfect hand but… the amounts of marks they would lose never agreed with that." She gives an eyeroll at that. As for the not-costumeness, she shrugs. "Anything can be a costume if you have a nice enough mask. Maybe some other accessories." She's a weaver. She's allowed to get creative.

"Yes, only poker." Of course, now Kez is gonna fret about it, granting Aignes the equivalent of a side-eye… without actually turning his head to the side. A little frown at his mouth, he toys with the teacup and casts a glance toward the ledge before offering, "I suppose so," for the idea of costuming up the gown. "A mask would at least make it suitable for a masked ball." Frown. Squint. "Maybe some wings? It could work as a fairy, too…" Another eyeballing of the ledge, a little more frowning. "I think… I think maybe I should check on them…" In case there is dangerous shenanigans happening at his weyr! Though K'zre's murmured, "…before they break something…" might make it clear that he's not picturing anything more illicit than a friendly sparring match. Or careless hand-gestures.

Aignes will meet that side eye with a smirk as she sips her own tea and watches him squirm. She'll feel bad about it later and probably write a very nice apology note. Next seven. As for the gown, she nods. "Maybe I should just toss some more sequins on the wings and go as Czarduinath." Always a possiblity. There's a nod as K'zre extracts himself from tulle mountain. "Don't break them. I'm sure it was just poker!" Probably. And Czarduinath might have had enough sister time that her boredom might be willing to extend to entertaining some of those suitors… soon.


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