Who Alexa, F'inn, w/ cameo from K'zre
What Spinners are scary! F'inn proves himself to be the sort of guy you want as a friend, while Alexa is an unreasonable, entirely ungrateful, not-a-damsel in distress. Also, we squish a bug.
When Winter - Month 1 of Turn 2725
Where Alexa's Weyr, Fort Weyr

 

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Alexa's Weyr
Raaneth's space is a large domed cavern, dominated by the dragon's couch along one wall. Large, luxurious pillows, predominantly in jewel-toned velvets, soften the space and provide a comfortable area for the queen to relax. A natural archway at the back has been skillfully smoothed to soften the rough stone and then decorated with vines and leaves, little birds and small, cute creatures tucked within at random to create a subtle woodland scene. Through the archway lies Alexa's quarters, a series of consecutive rooms, each smaller than the last.

The first room is the largest, and serves as the main living space. Separation of space has been created through the use of furniture and rugs. A small hearth along the wall is surrounded by plush couches and chairs, a thick rug anchoring the space to create an intimate, cozy place for relaxing and reading. Along another wall, a dark wooden desk and leather-lined chair provide a place for study or work. The stone above has been carefully carved into modest shelves and currently boast a number of items including a few precious bound books. Lastly is a small dining table and set of three chairs, creating a small space for eating near the dumbwaiter, which connects the weyr to the Kitchens.

Through another stone archway, this time decorated at the edges with an intricate knot-pattern, lies the bedroom. About a third of the size of the living space, this area is dark and intimate and dominated by a large four-poster bed. The dark-stained wood has been polished to a high shine, reflecting the modest light of glows or candles. Thick velvet curtains frame the bed, softening the space and providing an easy cover to hold in heat. The bed itself is dressed in dark-red linens, charcoal-grey furs, and a riot of plush pillows, encouraging the sleeper to stay in bed just a little bit longer. At the foot of the bed, a padded bench provides a place to sit. A dark-stained wardrobe with antique-gold knobs has been pushed against the other wall, a small collection of jewelry and a delicate mirror are displayed across the top. A thick rug spans nearly the entire space, protecting tender feet from cold stone in the depths of winter.

The last archway leads down a short hall and shallow staircase, the end of which finds the small bathing chamber. Along the back of the space is a depression, where a large stone tub has been carved from the rock itself. Copper fixtures provide warm water at a moments notice, filling the room with steam. The room is largely undecorated, though a small shelf near the door provides a space for all manner of bath items: scented soaps and perfumed oils, lotions and bath salts. Fluffy towels are folded and laid on a wooden bench near the tub, ready to be used as needed. A tall wooden panel separates the main space from the tiny latrine, allowing privacy when necessary.


The call comes in the dead of night, a time when all but the most nightly of night-owls (or those unfortunately enough to have to be *working*) are asleep. A not-so-gentle nudge of Nymionth's mind; an intrusion meant to wake him up (if he was fortunate enough to be sleeping) that does not come with an apology. « Come. Now. Yours is needed. » And while Raaneth might not be panicking (and, really, there might be some faint amusement amidst all the urgency), there's a definite sense that something is not alright with Alexa. Though, Raaneth is gracious enough to suggest that the matter is not of life-threatening proportions, no matter what her rider might insist. « Now, » she repeats, adding only belatedly, « Please. » It is, however, not a suggestion.

Both Nymionth and F'inn had been sleeping. Being woken by Raaneth on behalf of Alexa, though, is both not something he'd expected and enough to have him immediately overclocking adrenalin. Without missing a beat, he's out of the bed, tugging on the closest thing he has to hand (In this case, a pair of loose fitting sweatpants that hang entirely to low and are desperately in need of repair) and shaking K'zre gently. "Something is wrong at Alexa's," he whispers in urgent tones. "Nym is trying to get more information. I don't know," he adds as he lopes across the room and heads for the ledge barefoot. "If they are going to need a healer." In the next moment he is leaping onto Nym's back, the bronze dropping from the ledge only to shoot like arrow toward Raaneth's lair. « Is yours hurt? Does she need a healer? We are here. » Is announced as he appears on the ledge and F'inn launches himself off Nym's back at a dead run. "'Lexa?" The is shouted as he bursts into the weyr proper.

K'zre is not amused. He scowls in the dark, finding none of the adrenaline that seems to have inspired his weyrmate to leaping from the bed. "There's a whole fucking infirmary full of Healers," he points out even as he begrudgingly pulls himself from bed and pokes around for some pants. F'inn is halfway to the ledge before K'zre finds any, and a moment later there's confirmation that Alexa is neither dead, nor dying, nor in need of a healer at all and — perfectly pissed off and still pants-less — K'zre hauls himself back to bed with a few choice words for the weyrwoman. Yasminath is a bit more understanding, warbling well-wishes to F'inn and Nymionth as they take off, and following it a moment later with, « K'zre says to tell him if he is needed, otherwise he's— I am not saying that! — going back to bed. »

« She is fine. » Scratch that. « She is not injured or dead. » Obviously. « She does not need a healer. » Raaneth is lounging on her couch, looking wide awake and torn between irritation and amusement, faceted eyes whirling in the dark. Nymionth is afforded the courtesy of a croon; a greeting that is extended toward F'inn, even if both bronze and rider were entirely expected. And a moment later, Alexa a, "In the bedroom!" back to F'inn, as if it weren't perfectly obvious where she might be. And when he inevitably makes it there, he'll find her perched in the center of her bed with her blankets clutched close, looking absolutely horrified as she casts darting glances to the floor on either side. "Finally," comes in a rush of air, a mix of exasperated and relieved when he makes it to the room. "It's under the bed — you have to kill it!" And what, exactly, is 'it'? "I've never seen spinners so big! It's the size of my head!!" Maaaaaaybe it's the size of her thumb, if it really puts a mind to it. "Giant and black and fuzzy and? UGH. Kill it. Just? KILL IT!" 'Before it eats me' is definitely implied, if not said.

Nymionth returns the croon, relaying the information back to Yasminath as he settles on the ground. « Not injured or dead is a good thing » His tones, though, are amused particularly since he is fairly certain K'zre is less then pleased. « Mine may be injured or dead after this » Clearly, though, he is not concerned. In the bedroom, it takes F'inn a moment to comprehend what he is seeing. So much so that it is only the wake of the last that he rubs one hand against the back of his neck and glances at the floor. "… A spinner…" Slanting a /look/ up at Alexa, he exhales a breath, his gaze sweeping the room in search of something he can use to ferret the offending spinner out into the open. "You have a broom?"

« That is unfortunate, » agrees Raaneth, commiserating on the demise of F'inn. She, also, is not terribly worried. Though she's maybe a little annoyed at the whole fuss. « I would have killed it for her, but I don't fit through the door. » Sigh. Dragon problems. "Yes, a spinner," repeats Alexa, looking somewhat insulted. "Don't take that tone! You didn't see it! It's HUGE." It's pretty average, really. Don't show her tarantulas, okay? She might faint. "And it is your duty to kill it. AS THE MOTHER OF YOUR CHILD I DEMAND YOU KILL IT NOW!!" And if she wasn't worried she might be eaten by said spinner, she'd be about ready to launch herself at F'inn to insist upon it even further. "A broom? No, I don't have a broom, why would I have a broom!!" Hysterics. Please understand this is all very traumatic and apparently anger is her default when upset. "I have a boot! By the door. Why… why aren't you wearing shoes? And where is your shirt?! Never mind. Just kill it, please!" Before she kills him, maybe?? >.>

F'inn blinks a few times in the face of the tirade, his chin tilting down as he glances at his barefeet and chest. "I was in bed, Alexa," he points out. "You're lucky I have /pants/ on." Although really, with the way they hang down off his hipbones? Having pants /on/ might be an overstatement. While Nymionth chortles on the ledge, F'inn twists in place, snagging up one of Alexa's boots before stepping toward the bed. "Don't you have firelizards," he grumbles as he drops into a crouch and peers under the bed. "If they aren't entirely spoiled, they should be eager to catch a spinner." Bracing a hand against the bed, he waves the boot beneath it, jumping back when the spinner charges past his foot to disappear behind the dresser. "For fucksake…."

"Ugh… just… Ugh. I don't need to see any of that!" She's already seen it. Twice. Clutching her blankets to her chest out of a sense of protection rather than modesty (she's definitely dressed in her pajamas), Alexa rests her chin on her pillow and peers through the near-dark (there's at least a glow or two. Otherwise, how would she have seen the spinner to begin with??) at F'inn. "They're hiding," she grumps. "I tried to get Honey to eat it, but she was terrified!" Probably feeding off of her. "The others are useless." And they're certainly not about to come to her rescue now that she's insulted them. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!" RIP ear drums, because Alexa is definitely going to shriek her head off when the creature of doom spinner makes an appearance. "GET IT GET IT GET IT!" Never mind that he is trying to get it. "IT WENT UNDER THE DRESSER!" Pretty sure F'inn saw that, but just in case.

F'inn flinches at the shriek, one hand raising to cover his ears and consequentally hitting himself in the head with her boot. "/Ow/! Dammit… Don't scream like that!" Tucking the boot under his arm, he rubs his head as he moves toward the dresser, the grumbling increasing as he shoves it out of the way. "And I'll have you know that /this/ is a sight that most of the weyr would /love/ to see," is huffed. As the dresser scraps across the floor, the spinner darts out from behind it, skittering across the floor to scramble up one the velvet curtains shrouding the bed only to plop right down on the mattress. "Stay still," F'inn cautions as he crosses the room with every intention of crushing the spinner before it can find a new hiding place.

"I WILL SCREAM IF I WANT TO AND IF YOU WANT ME TO STOP YOU WILL KILL IT!!" So fierce. So angry. So terrified of a tiny spinner. But while Alexa might glower something fierce at him, she'll endeavor to keep the shrieking to a minimum. But, really, she just can't not comment on that. "Well, then go strut naked for them," she huffs right back. "But only after you kill the spinner!" is clarified in a rush immediately after. Because really, for all the shrieking and demands and terrible lack of spoken gratitude, she is rather grateful that he came and that he's saying to kill it. And really, she had every intention of keeping her screaming to a minimum, but when the bloody thing goes for the jugular (and don't you dare insist otherwise), there's no way Alexa can stay silent. "EEEEEEEE!!!!!!" is followed immediately with a mad dash to get off the bed because stay still is definitely not going to happen when she's utterly certain it's coming for her. Which is, probably, why F'inn is going to find himself with an armful of weyrwoman when Alexa literally leaps from the bed toward him.

F'inn is, remarkably, taken by surprise. One would think, given the circumstances, that he would have expected to be lept on. But, no. Nope. He was totally laboring under the mistaken assumption that Alexa would do as she was told. Foolish, foolish bronzerider. Fortunately, while he is not the brightest bulb while half asleep, his reaction time is still outstanding. Outstanding enough that he catches Alexa around the waist as she crashes into him and immediately flips her around to be against his side— and out of the line of sight of the spinner. "SHELLS ALEXA! CALM /DOWN/!" The bellow though is accompanied by the boot landing squarely on the spinner, the fact that it is on her mattress resulting in F'inn having to whack it a few times before it is well and truly squished.

On the ledge, though, Nymionth is -dying- the bronze's amusement entirely and unrepentantly clear.

Alexa? Do as told? Foolish bronzerider, indeed! Thankfully, while the weyrwoman might have lost her sanity, F'inn's reflexes mean that neither of them is injured in the process of spinner-killing. She'd totes cling to him if he wasn't so close to the action! So instead she's leaping back, plastered against the wall and looking ready to bolt for the door should things turn south. Thankfully, F'inn is able to kill the creature (and, alas, her poor bedding) and all is… well. Not right with the world, exactly. But a little less terrifying perhaps. "You… You've RUINED MY BED!!" He also killed the spinner, so… "Oh, oh, EW EW EW EW EWWWWW There are spinner guts ALL OVER MY BED!!!! How am I going sleep on that? HOW?! I'm not. I am NOT SLEEPING IN THAT BED! F'inn!! F'inn— I can sleep on your couch, right? RIGHT?!?"

F'inn tosses the boot aside, his hand raising to scrub over his face as he steps back from the bed. It is only after a few moments of taking it all in that he turns to regard Alexa. "One, you NEED to stop spoiling your firelizards or you'll continue to have spinner problems. Two, you need a broom. Three," he adds as he tugs up his sweat pants and jerks the bedding off the bed. "You really need to have at least an extra set of sheets on hand." Bundling the sheets up, he tosses them in a corner before briefly considering how much damage K'zre is going to do to him. « Nym, ask Yasminath to ask K'zre if Alexa can sleep on our couch while her weyr is being put back in order? » Looking back at Alexa, he adds. "It should be fine, get what you'll need for the morning."

Does F'inn reeeeeeally want Yasminath to ask? Well, Okay then. « He said a lot of things that I am not comfortable repeating. And also 'no'. He says she can… well. I'm not going to say what he said she could do because that is just plain rude! K'zre! » Yasminath is shocked at her lifemate right now. « Sorry, » is definitely from the dragon and not the dragonrider, Yasminath having the decency to be a little sad for Alexa's plight. And Alexa? "My firelizards are not spoiled!" They're totally spoiled. And while she might argue it all day long, there's a furtive little darting of her eyes around the room as though more spinners might magically appear just for the thought. Suffice to say, her firelizards are gonna get trained. "Also, you just totally ruined not only my sheets but my blanket and my covers and I don't have multiple of that!" Sniff. Grump. Glower. She slinks her way carefully (because now she's certain spinners lay around ever corner) toward her own couch, sitting with her knees tucked to her chin to keep her feet off the floor.

F'inn blinks a few times at the response before lightly clearing his throat. "There is a guestweyr," he provides. "Covers can be washed, Alexa. There is a laundry for that purpose." With her moving to the couch, he arches brow, only the twitch at the corners of his lips making it clear that he's doing his level best not to laugh. "Right. I'll pack you a bag then. I'll have the drudges come and get the room put back into order once you are settled in the guestweyr." Snagging one of the pillows, he pulls off the case and goes about the business of packing her some clothes to change in to. That they are random and mismatched? Well, it cannot be helped. Snagging a spare pair of shoes, he shakes them out just to be sure and steps over to where she is sitting. "Stop feeding them so much, the firelizards. Make them hunt and you'll not have these problems. In the meantime….." Brutus and Ferb *pop* in at his shoulders and immediately set to sweeping around the weyr to look for spinners. "If there is anything in here that shouldn't be? The boys will eat it."

Alexa will be sure to complain about it later. If she notices. For now, she's going to perch on her couch looking at every shadow that dares to be a shadow as though it holds the sum of all evil. NO corner can be trusted! "Okay," comes with all the sullen sighs of one who is not pleased but has no alternative. A guest weyr is better than nothing, right? Nose wrinkled, she scoffs at his instruction for her firelizards, muttering something beneath her breath that does not bear repeating. With F'inn's pair on the hunt, and her bag presumably packed, she dares to step onto the floor once again, heading with lightning-quick speed toward the ledge to climb onto Raaneth. She might have a ground weyr but that doesn't mean she has to walk on it. "The Headwoman can set me up somewhere nice," she decides, finding confidence now that she's miles high and Raaneth can smoosh anything that comes too close with too many legs.

F'inn shakes his head, leaving Ferb and Brutus to the hunt as he steps over and hands Alexa up her bag (pillowcase). "You /need/ to ask her for a broom, as well. And if you are not going to make your firelizards hunt, you'll need to have the room cleaned out far more regularly. Given you like you privacy," he notes as he climbs up on Nymionth. "You'll want to get those 'lizards hunting as soon as possible." Urging Nymionth back, he glances skyward, certain he can feel K'zre's baleful glowers from where he sits. "Tell her you need extra bedding, as well," he calls before sending Nym into the sky and back to his weyr.

"Hey!" comes with a snag of Alexa's hand as she just about yanks that pillowcase away. "I don't need your commentary on how I live my life!" Well. At least she's no longer terrified about the spinners? "Thank you for your service," comes with way too much sarcasm to be believed, "But I am fine now and you can go away and boss other people around and tell them what to do and how to do it!" With her pillowcase-bag clutched to her chest, she lets Raaneth waddle her over to the entrance to the living caverns, mumbling obscenities beneath her breath all the way. The queen, at least, offers a heartfelt (and still thoroughly amused), « Thank you for coming. And my condolences for the loss of your lifemate. » Because RIP F'inn.

F'inn just sighs. Sometimes? Some times it just doesn't pay to be a nice guy. With Nymionth landing on their ledge, F'inn slips off, lightly patting the bronze's neck. For a moment, just a moment, he considers bedding down with the dragons before squaring his shoulders and heading into the weyr proper.


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