Who Aignes, Kezresan
What The sky is purple, and the grass is orange!
When Winter - Month 13 of Turn 2717
Where Fort Weyr - Library Archives


Fort Weyr - Library Archives
Surviving the ages is something that books are known to do, especially if they are left untouched for just as long. In this room, that's exactly what has happened. Put aside as trivial information or simply determined old enough to not impact present day life, these numerous articles stored in ceiling high shelves are the forgotten histories belonging to Fort. Miraculously, the design of the room itself has prevented any of the books from damage. The rock base of which the room's foundation is actually one of the toughest rock known to man and cannot be surpassed by any creature living, while a layer of tiles of the smoothest stone gives this room a vibrant and mysterious appeal. The door itself on the room was sealed tight and allowed for a minimum amount of circulation, thereby preventing natural decay, although most articles may be brittle despite this. White marble has been used to create an insulating layer wall against the natural rock, giving the room an unnatural brightness and a enchanted atmosphere - while also giving it four distinct walls. The ceiling as well has been made smooth with an arching apex. As for the books and mounds of information stored in this vault of information, the organization is clear. Books bound with hard covers are kept alphabetical in the towering skybroom wood shelves, where step ladders and scrolling ladders actually attached to the shelves move to assist a person in selecting a volume. The shelves are ornately carved, many crafted with a mastery none have ever seen. Meanwhile, scrolls have a sectional shelf where each scroll based on how they were itemized has a cubical square into which they are kept in. This shelf alone has over a hundred squares in which the scrolls stick out of. As well, any loose bits of information have been assembled in files that are stored in boxes along the back wall. Apparently, recording history takes up vast amounts of space and every where one looks in this room one would find a wealth of information. The ancestors of Fort live here.

Is there anything more cozy than a library on a cold winter morning? Not as far as Aignes is concerned, which might explain why the weaver is currently tucked up into a corner with a massive stack of books, pencil drumming occasionally on the table as she flips the pages slowly with no sort of project visible to distract her hands. Luckily, the library isn't too crowded at this moment so nobody too close to disturb unless they've crept up into one of those tables behind her.

Kezresan is definitely a creeper. Of tables, at least. Libraries are definitely his jam, and not just for the wealth of medical texts they might supply. There's a mug of something hot in one hand, and a small collection of books shoved beneath his arm, with another novel-sized one cracked open and held in such a way as to suggest he is reading it. Once more, walking and reading at the same time, stalking through the civilized maze of tables in the depths of the library with an ease that speaks of familiarity. That he ends up at the table behind Aignes? Probably a coincidence, though he doesn't seem super surprised to see her when he looks up. Curious, but not shocked to find another warm body in the vicinity. But rather than do the /polite/ thing and announce himself, he'll just… slide quietly her direction and peer nosily over her shoulder.

Well, nothing would be creepier than a cold body randomly in the library just chilling. Aignes is probably pretty warm, seeing as she even has a colorful lap quilt wrapped around her shoulders. The volume that the weaver is currently perusing may just be jibberish to most other folks. An arcane mess of notches and dots making a map of… something. For a while she's blissfully unaware of the personal space encroachment, but as she turns to jot down another note in her notebook, a shadow or something else is caught out of the corner of her eye and the woman jumps as she turns around. "Excuse me?"

True, though this is Kez. Would he really be creeped out by a cold body? Dead people are not always his jam but… you know. Healer-life. The jump of Aignes brings a jump of Kezresan's gaze, a dart of brown eyes from book to woman. "You're excused," he murmurs in an utterly serious tone, honestly meaning it. "What are you doing?" because yup, definitely looks foreign to the healer-boy. "Rather. What are you /reading/. Or… staring at," because although Kez is squinting at the page, he's not sure he sees any actual words.

Aignes reaches up to clutch that quilt a bit tighter. Security blanket? At least she's just a bit flustered and only slightly blushing. "Oh… reading?" because of course she'll provide the most literal answer, but then he asks for more detail. "It's a pattern. For lace." The last is tacked on as an afterthought and she just peers back at Kezresan. "Was I in your way or something?"

"Ah." That single syllable says that Kezresan knows what 'lace' is, at least. "More lace." Because he does remember the incident in the living caverns with the millions of wooden-things. It at least satisfies that curiosity, though Kez just remains right there in that personal space bubble for one, two, three seconds longer. It is /then/ that he seems to clue in to the idea that he might be making Aignes uncomfortable and, with a little jerk of his shoulders, he stands up stick-straight before taking a single, long step backwards. "How would you be in my way? You're at a table," he notes with a frown. "You're not in the way."

Aignes raises an eyebrow as the man still stands in her space bubble, but as he takes the step backwards, her face settle back into a more neutral expression. "Yes… lace. People like it." And so she makes it! "Didn't have any luck finding quilt patterns this morning." And she does sound a little disappointed at that, and just gives a shrug to the last question. "Well, you were standing right there. Normally when people get that close, they want something."

"People like it," repeats Kezresan in a flat tone. As if this is a novel concept he had not considered. A snort, and he turns toward the chair beside Aignes' own and yanks it out from beneath the table with a sharp pull. "Quilts," comes as he drops down to the chair, perhaps surprisingly graceful considering his rather aggressive acquisition of it. "Another thing people like?" But it is the latter than has him frowning in silent, modest confusion before he admits, "I was just curious what you were reading." And then one, two seconds later he thinks to add, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Yes, people like it," Aignes repeats as if she's not confirming something that's already been said multiple times. As for quilts though… that actually gets the woman to crack the smallest of smiles. "And quilts are practical. Everybody needs blankets or bags or jackets. What else lets you take cast off scraps and transform it into something that both looks nice and is useful?" Quilts, she can talk about them all day. As for his last comment, she blinks back at him as she thinks as well before adding. "You could have just asked?" And not tried to be all Mr. Creepy McCreeper.

"Definitely useful." Kezresan concurs with this. "And an efficient use of materials that would otherwise be wasted." Yup, he approves. Even if he might not agree with their aesthetic appeal, and might just slant a bit of a side-eye for the mention of quilts as /jackets/. At least he is sitting now, and no longer hovering in or near that oft-invaded personal space bubble. As for being normal and asking? "I didn't want to disturb you." Which clearly went so well for him. And now there is awkward silence as Kez just sits, his gaze darting between Aignes' face and the book on the table, and then the bookshelves around them. If there was a clock, the ticking of it would likely be the loudest sound in the room. Tick-tick-tick. "Other than lace patterns and quilts," he finally ventures, hesitating a question that /seems/ like it should be normal, "What else do you read?"

"Exactly!" Aignes agrees with that wholeheartedly and is just going to take his verbal acceptance of quilts as useful as agreement with her whole stance of quilts being awesome. And quilted jackets can definitely be a thing! And not necessarily the patchwork squares grandma makes. See Example A that's wrapped around the weaver at the moment in all it's carefully coordinated glory of triangles and shading detail. And there might not be a clock, but Aignes' pencil can definitely add it's own Tip-tap-tip as she fidgets during that awkward silence. "If you're meaning something non-weaving related, it's rare, but if I have the time I'll usually pull out a good history book. It's interesting all the details the harpers have chronicled over the turns that aren't covered during basic lessons." She glances over at the novel that Kezresan was reading before the whole looking-over-shoulder things. "And you? More healer stuff?"

It's a fair bet that Kez is picturing grandma-made quilt-jackets, and that even the evidence of something counter to this in the form of actual apparel worn by Aignes right in front of him, is unlikely to change his assumptions. He's just not a fashion-forward guy. Nevermind he's staring at the book, or the table or, now that she's mentioned it, his own modest stack of books on his briefly claimed and then abandoned table. "History is… interesting," he agrees. But there's a catch in his voice that says history books are probably not what is sitting in his stack. "Oh, no. The library doesn't really have adequate medical texts; The good ones are kept in the infirmary." Probably so people don't hurl their lunches. "Call it research? And, well…" and because he apparently doesn't understand the concept of being /embarrassed/, will just snag the top book off the stack and offer it over. "It's easy." It's a romance novel.

It's okay! Aignes definitely understands the concept of being embarrassed and she can cover that emotion for both of them as her eyes widen as he reveals the novel. "Research? Wouldn't research normally have been written by other healers and not…" She just waves a hand at the offending volume as she casts some very dubious side eye at the book. She's totally judging it by it's cover there and not even going to take it as it's offered. She'll just stare at it as if it's on fire or poison or something.

Wait, what? "This is not research," declares Kez in a voice that says he's not embarrassed some much as somewhat mystified. And really, this is good to know considering that cover is one of the /worst/ offenders of swooning-romance-heroine and over-muscled-love-interest. "This," declares Kezresan, giving the novel a little wiggle in his hand, "is just…" recreation? "fluff. That," and there's a motion of the book toward the stack of other items on his other table (because now that book is a pointer?), "is research. Obviously not healer research," he continues with a huff. "It's just…" general research that a work-a-holic Healer does during his copious free time? Sure. A frown very much like a scowl creases Kezresan's face as he peers between his books and Aignes. "Nevermind."

"You said to call it research!" Aignes is going to lay all this blame for this misunderstanding squarely on the healer's shoulders as she straightens up her seat. And she also ducks her head a tad after realizing her voice may have gotten just a smidge too loud considering their library surroundings. "I would hope it's not healer research. That stuff's all just… just…" She wrinkles up her nose as she struggles to think up a word before finally settling on, "hogwash." But she glances back at Kez and his books and the curiosity is just growing, especially with the nevermind is offered. "But why did you decide to get that… fluff?"

"Not /this/," insists Kezresan with a snort of indignation. "I said this was /easy/. That is the research…" but he totally stands by his, "Nevermind," when he issues it again. Scowl firmly in place, he tosses the offending novel back to 'his' table. "Have you ever read it?" comes as a subtly-issued challenge and defense of his chosen guilty pleasure. "Not all of it is bad," he allows. "Though I will agree that most of is rather unbelievable," and there's another snort, this time in disbelief. "Love is ridiculous. But the stories can be…" a shrug of his shoulders, as though the word for it has escaped him. "It's an escape," he decides. "Takes little effort to read, passes the time. It lets me…" a purse of his lips, a narrowing of his eyes, and he decides a moment later to just shrug it away and leave that sentence unanswered.

Aignes has a retort for that, but mostly just muttered under her breath. It sounds suspiciously like "Well, you should have just said that in the first place…" She'll huff a little bit herself before flipping the page of her book to the next pattern although she's still looking at the healer instead of her actual work. As for did she actual read it? The woman rolls her eyes a bit. "I spent turns in an apprentice dorm at Weaver Hall. It's not like it was avoidable. And most people that read it don't seem to realize that love at first sight and all that is absolutely ridiculous. Plus, how many lord holders actually lose sons like that?" Long lost sons of important holds, staple of the whole romance genre, right?

Thankfully, Kez either can't, or didn't, hear that retort. But he heard the rest of it! "That doesn't mean /you/ read them," he points out all matter-of-factly. "And not all of them are good," he admits. "Terrible writing is rampant in that particular genre, but some of them are good," he insists. Of course, of love at first sight and Lord Holder sons there is a snort and a roll of his eyes. "That part is ridiculous," he agrees. "Love at all seems horribly ridiculous," he mutters, leaning back to snag the book in question if just as a prop. "I did say it was fluff," he argues. "And there are a goodly number of them about bronzeriders. Particularly bronzeriders with amazing abs." Which, he is not opposing on principle, but well, "Plenty of dragonriders have amazing abs, not just /bronze/riders." Huff.

"I may not have read more than a handful of them myself, but I heard enough detailed discussion about them I could probably right an entire series…" Aignes waves that off. Potayto, potahto… she still gives yet another dubious look towards Kez. Those looks aren't something she's going to run out of anytime soon. "If you think love at all is ridiculous… why don't you read something else? They make other novels about renegades and dragonriders and other folks going on adventures that don't solely involve everyone falling in love and living happily ever after…." The red starts to return to her cheeks and ears as the conversation turns to amazing abs… even if she's not going to admit it, she's done enough fittings by now to be aware of the fact of amazing abs existing.

"I read those, too," asserts the healer. But he's not done defending his choice of romance novels, even if he might not have the actual words required to do so. "I like the idea of happily ever after," is his last and final argument, a low murmur of words that lacks the bite of real contention. A little press of his lips into a thin line, and for a moment he's staring hard at that book as if it might have the answers he's seeking. In the end, there's a long exhale, breathed out audibly through his nose, and a determined, "They're not for everyone," that more or less says they'll have to agree to disagree. But amazing abs? Amazing abs are definitely for everyone. And unfortunately, Kez is astute enough to catch that flush of red. And to call her out on it, because he's that socially-inept it seems. "Why are you blushing?" At least it's an inquiry and not a criticism. "It's pretty normal to experience physical attraction." And abs? Definitely swoon-worthy.

"Huh…" Is all Aignes has for that. Her own choice of 'fun' reading material would probably make most folks fall asleep, so she's just going to let that drop, with a nod of agreement for the last. "Happily ever after is a good idea…" Even if she personally feels unrealistic for most. Mediocre-ever-after doesn't quite have the same ring to it. And also, calling out Aignes on the blushing just causes her to blush even brighter. It's a completely unmissable shade and yet even so… she's going to pull the blanket tighter again before attempting to deny that fact. "I'm not blushing." And the sky is purple and the grass is orange…

"Yes, you are," asserts Kezresan, because he can't seem to fathom that this is /not/ something people generally want to be called out on. Really, he's perplexed. It's written in the frown on his face, and the way he's now staring at Aignes as though she is an interesting specimen in a petri dish. Cause he's just kinda unconsciously rude like that. "You're bright red," he declares, settling back with that persistent frown on his face. "Do you need water? Take deep breaths." I.e. don't faint! "Think about quilts or something."

Now it's time for the double down! Aignes just shakes her (still very red faced) head. "No… I'm not. I'm fine. This is just… my face." Her face that definitely wasn't so red a few moments ago. She just slumps in her seat with her arms crossed defensively. "I don't need water or deep breaths or quilts or anything!" She'll just be over here trying to set a world record for how red one person can get.

Kezresan does not believe her. "I don't believe you." Yup. Not at all. And now it is a very critical, very /healer-esque/ gaze that is pinned to the weaver in her chair. As if Kez can take vitals by sight alone (he can't). It lingers far longer than it should, but in the end he sits back with a soft huff and apparently decides Aignes is not about to pass out or spontaneously combust on him. "It's not anything to get flustered about." But perhaps blessedly, he does not launch into further attempts to convince her of such, and even goes so far as to turn in his chair and actually flip open the first page of that romance book as if he means to start reading it right here and right now. "If you're still red in five minutes, I'm taking you to the infirmary," he threatens, though his eyes are on the page now.

"I'm not blushing," Aignes is just going to keep saying that. Maybe eventually it'll be true, but not right now. At least she's turned slightly less red than she was a moment ago, so improvement and she hasn't needed to resort to pulling her blanket over her head like a recalcitrant child. She also turns back to her own books of actual research. "I won't be red in five minutes because I'm not blushing. I'm reading." And talking, but that can be done with her eyes on the patterns.

"Mmhmm," because Aignes can keep saying it, but Kez is going to keep right on not believing it. At least now he's doing so with his eyes on his page rather than pinned to the weaver. And that is where his gaze will remain, skimming the page as he silently reads that bit of fluff and hogwash with an expression that basically does NOT change despite some rather steamy bits (cause it's a romance novel, of course there are steamy bits within the first few pages! Pshaw). Until those requisite five minutes have come and gone. A little peek out of the corner of his eye and, assuming that Aignes has returned to her normal shade, Kes will just go right back to reading. And that is where he will remain until something or someone pulls him away.

Normalish enough. Aignes will live to argue another day. For now, there's plenty of reading, although she won't finish reading all her books before the desire to put ideas into action means she'll leave without another word beyond what's needed to check those volumes back in with the harper on duty.

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