Who Aignes, K'vir, S'van
What The very awkward cleanup from Czarduinath's flight. At least somebody made a quick get-away.
When Day 16 of Month 6 of Turn 2719
Where Cavern of Pillows, Fort Weyr

filename.tld


Cavern of Pillows
This enormous cavern stretches on into the darkness, its walls bare and grey, the domed ceiling dissapearing in shadow. Save for the noise made by those who enter, it is utterly silent here, and even then the echoes that bounce off the cold stone are muffled by the floor. For the ground is covered in.. pillows. Dusty and old, pillows of every shape and size have been piled high, along with folded blankets, sheets, curtains, and other textiles. Rolls of fabric, their colors faded from age, have been stacked here and there, and the occasional bag or leather item is visible amongst the other things. There must be thousands of items in here, stored away for the weyr's use and then forgotten.


Much, much later, the pillow fort probably looks like a war zone. Crumbs, boots, clothes, pillows and blankets are spread everywhere. And in the middle of all the chaos, is Aignes still dead to the world. Who cares if she threw all the pillows elsewhere? She's currently got someone's chest as a pillow and an arm and leg sprawled across someone else. A draft blows in from somewhere is not enough to full rouse the greenrider but it is enough to make her stir and try to burrow further into the after-flight-pile while muttering "Don't wannnnnnaa….."

S'van 'doesn't wanna' either. First, because he likes sleep very much. And second because, as awareness starts to seep into him, there's a cold sorta dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. It has nothing to do with Aignes (she's a very pretty girl), and it doesn't really have anything to do with K'vir (who's also a pretty good lookin' dude. Even if visiting Xanadu has just gotten a WHOLE lot more awkward…) and everything to do with a weyrmate probably waiting for him at home. There's a very 'maybe this was a dream?' peek of one grey eye, but even before he catches sight of the destruction around them, he can feel the drape of that arm, and that leg. And they are definitely NOT his weyrmate's. There's only a few seconds needed before, as carefully as possible, Sev is wiggling and worming his way gingerly out from beneath those limbs, groping with his free hand for a pair of pants (HOPEFULLY THEY ARE HIS PANTS!).

Similarily, K'vir doesn't want to move either and is likewise out COLD! He's also the 'pillow' in use by Aignes' head but that doesn't seem to lend him any discomfort what-so ever. Only when she begins to stir, does some awareness trickle in and his sleep disrupted enough that he can sense movement but isn't anywhere coherent enough to figure out the why, who, where and what. S'van is making his escape, but K'vir is happy as a clam in blissful unawareness! Poor Aignes may be snared by him shifting and attempting to sleepily wrap and arm further around her. Luckily, his error, if it happens won't be one to linger! K'vir's eyes blink open, unfocused and groggy but he snaps more alert while S'van is rummaging around. "… wha?" he mutters hoarsely, voice still thick with sleep. Awkward? Oh yes. Not so much from the current (and very respectfully attractive) parties! Just that he didn't expect to be here, of all places. The 'how' is very fuzzy, even if most of it so painfully obvious.

Aignes senses that part of her make shift 'bed' is moving and makes a halfhearted attempt to reach out and try and grab at S'van but well, he's fast and she's groggy. The sudden weight of K'vir's arm across her does bring her fully awake and she blinks. First at the hand, then at S'van and whoever's pants he found. She'll echo the other rider's "Wha…." And then a yip as she realizes she is also very much exposed and she sits up and then dives towards the nearest blanket. It's more of a sheet and doesn't do much for modesty, but she'll clutch at it anyways since it's better than nothing.

While typically S'van is the sort to linger, to offer pleasantries and reassurances and at least put in an effort to make sure the other party is alright… this time he just can't. This isn't a typical morning after. And besides, K'vir is there! Sev will just… let him take one for the team while he gathers up his clothes (at least, he hopes it's his clothes) and prepares to beat a hasty retreat. But with one leg into his pants (or at least, a pair of pants that are now gonna become his, and thankfully fit *enough*), Aignes is stirring. Caught! There's a brief flash of grey eyes and stricken expression, something between apology and guilt. Because he's ditching them, and that's rude. And he knows it. He doesn't even know her name and he's getting ready to leave. There's a wince, and a murmured, "Sorry, I gotta go," even as Aignes is diving for a sheet in effort to cover herself. And while there's definitely a little part of him that wants to stay, and make sure that she'll be Okay… he just doesn't. Sometimes, Sev is selfish. Boots and shirt and jacket snapped up (he'll buy new socks), he makes a bee-line for the door and beats a hasty retreat.

Those better not be his pants (they probably are, woe)! K'vir will want them back or maybe just cut his losses and forget that they ever were 'borrowed'. He startles when Aignes all but abandons him and while she seems well aware of her exposure, he doesn't seem to clue in on the issue. Not until the blanket is hoisted up and then it clicks and he hastily drops his gaze and pretends he saw nothing at all! Just ignore the flush to his cheeks and ears! He's just going to play it cool and act like nothing at all is wrong with this picture and that pillow just so happened to look comfortable and big enough to fit in his lap, okay? Okay. Sitting up, he'll dart a look to S'van and, awake enough to catch on to what he's about to do, frowns. "Hey…" Wait! Too late. It's not like he's about to go chase him either, sans pants and all!

What flushing? It's clearly just hot in there seeing as Aignes is also turning a bright red herself. Those blue eyes shoot an accusing glance at the fleeing rider, but it's not like she is going to say anything to stop him! Trying to find her clothes in the mess is a task that's beyond the weaver at the moment. She'll settle to just being mostly hidden under the sheet as she holds her head in her hands. "How….?" She looks around at K'vir and their surroundings. "You're not F'inn." She knows that for sure just as she knows the following fact, "But Czarduinath's with Nymionth." And here she found herself with two complete strangers. AWKWARD (even if it is just one stranger now).

SO MUCH AWKWARD! Because like S'van, K'vir doesn't even know Aignes name and introductions right now feels just wrong on so many levels. He can only blink and continue to stare for a moment at the door to which the other bronzerider made is escape and then he sighs heavily. "… those were definitely my pants. Great." Lets hope S'van's fit him? Or he's going to need to ask for a very awkward request of someone. Tilting his head, he'll peer at Aignes from over his shoulder and pointedly making eye contact. Not to be weird but because, y'know! "Ah, no… sorry, not him." he mutters with a grimace. "And I dunno where he is but I guess we, uh — were closer?" Bad time to joke about it but poor K'vir is just trying to lighten the mood by making it seem not so bad.

If the pants don't fit, there's plenty of sheets to fashion a makeshift toga! Aignes could even tailor it, although that would only be MORE AWKWARD. Even if the pointed eye contact wasn't supposed to be weird, she'll still shift restlessly and look between K'vir and the direction S'van bravely ran away. "And two? How????" Nevermind that she doesn't really need a reminder of the actual logistics. She has enough of that seared in her memory that will come back eventually. She'd at least come to terms with the idea that there'd be one person after a flight but now it's double trouble! She does cough and straighten up though, reaching out a hand primly as if expecting a handshake. "I'm Aignes. Green Czarduinath's rider." Never mind the lack of clothes or what happened. Time to try and start over!

"Uh… I mean…" K'vir wisely shuts his mouth when he realizes that Aignes might just be venting and may not want the details of how you can have multiple partners in a flight. Then again, the bronzerider is in a relationship with two others so this isn't that unusual for him! His flustered state is mostly from not really knowing the greenrider and feeling out of place for her obvious inexperience with flights. He can only stare at her hand, then back up at her before he takes it firmly in one of his own. He'll also rise to his feet, but don't worry! He'll keep that overly large pillow in place. "K'vir," he returns, with a vague sort of shy smile. "Bronze Zekath's rider, from Xanadu." Then he's stepping back and looking down sheepishly again. "I… guess we should look for our clothes?"

"When a dragon's lust yadda yadda…" Aignes waves a hand as the whole weyrlingmaster lecture comes back to her. They might not have warned about this precise situation, but there were definitely warnings. While he might be standing, the greenrider is practically rooted to her spot after the handshake. With the pillow being practically at eye level she'll make an effort to stare anywhere else. "Right clothes… I think I only had pajamas… pink ones." She might be blushing even more at that, nevermind it was all she wore for the past three days. Proddy Aignes just wanted to be comfy!

K'vir scoffs a bit, "Yeah. That… kind of." Maybe those lectures need some updating? And being comfy is nothing to be ashamed of! "Oh, well," Not the best time for idle chit chat, either! He's going to make an effort however, even if to simply distract from the fact that they're still without clothes. "That should be easy enough to find. Not so easy to mistake, either!" S'van, you owe him for those pants!! Stepping back some more, K'vir will eventually find something to wrap around himself and much more suitable than a pillow. It may not be a toga, but at least he's covered from the waist down! "I could look, y'know… if you just wanted to relax?" He's trying to be a gentleman here! He'll even begin to search before she's given her answer and at some point there he'll belatedly add: "… you okay? Shock and surprise aside?" It's safe to ask now. Why? Because he's not looking at her.

Comfy means different things for different folks. And in Aignes-World, that normally means plenty of layers and a metric ton of starch on all of them. It wouldn't be surprising if she ironed her pajamas normally, although those hot pink plaid pants definitely weren't ironed today. Yesterday? Whenever. She'll give a nod at the mention of him looking for clothing as she leans again the wall. "Were they tan? I don't remember any pillows that color." She points to the far side where a bit of tan fabric is tangled up with a blanket. "And I, think? It was her first…" Which only adds to the shock and surprise. "Are they always like that?"

K'vir ventures off in the direction mentioned, moving somewhat cautiously given the tenacious hold of his wrapped blanket-ensemble. Pulling the tan fabric free, he'll sigh. "They're pants but…" Not his. Beggars can't be choosers however and he'll merely set them aside for now. He's covered for the time being and can focus on helping Aignes out first. Which is nearly derailed when she mentions it being Czarduinath's 'first' and he sputters, glancing sidelong at her. "Her first?" he exclaims nervously and leaving an obvious implied question: was it Aignes' first too? K'vir is far too innocent sometimes. "Um. Well…" he fumbles, "Not really? Not unheard of but… yeah. Definitely not the usual end?"

Aignes scrunches her face up as the mystery pants are uncovered. The math doesn't add up, but she'll shake her head and dismiss the problem of who they might actually belong to. As for his question, she nods. "Yes. She's just about two turns now…" And as for the obvious implied question, she's avoiding that! (but no, it wasn't the weaver's very first time). Aignes just sighs. "Great. And now she's going to be entirely too smug about this whole turn of events…"

"At least until she forgets! Just… don't remind her." Easier said than done, but at least K'vir's somewhat optimistic? "Though I hope whatever happened to this F'inn guy — well, I'd think he'd have a decent enough excuse?" Because that's baffling him, now that he's got enough of a brain to think on it. Shaking his head, he'll continue his hunt… and finally come out victorious! "These yours?" He'll hold up said articles of clothing, bright pink and definitely comfy!

"Right…" Aignes doesn't sound entirely convinced that it's that easy. As for F'inn, she shakes her head, equally perplexed. "I hope he's alright. Nymionth certainly is… but F'inn's always been the responsible one. At least since Impressing." Pre-rider F'inn was a whole different story. And when her pants are found, her eyes light up. "YES!" That's the sound of eternal gratitude that pairs well with the eager gimme-gimme hands. "And I think I found your boot." She was sitting on it, but now it's held out in trade for the pants. By some magic twists, her sheet at least is still secure.

"Here! Let's trade," K'vir will close most of the distance though, before tossing her her pants and then waits to be tossed his boot. Slowly but surely, they're getting there! He'll find more of his clothes and potentially more of Aignes', which he'll politely hand over as before. At one point, he'll find some cookie… or the remnants of one and sheepishly that's set aside with a clearing of his throat. Moving on! "Gotta admit, it's the first time I've seen a rider not make it. Seen late comers but not… to that effect. Hopefully he's alright but if he's responsible like you said… he probably is."

Throwing might not be Aignes' strong suit, but at such short distances even she can fail as she lobs the boot over towards it's owner. Once pants are in her hand she'll give a cough and wait for K'vir to turn around before she'll shimmy back into her pants while leaving the sheet-dress on as a sort of shirt. And once she's standing up, she can clearly spot her own top and grabs that as well. "His dragon wouldn't still be curled up with mine if he wasn't fine. So there must be some explanation." What it is, she'll extract out of her clutchmate at a later date. "And here's a shirt?" What she holds up is large and white. While it might not be his shirt, it's certainly a man's shirt and will probably fit. Close enough counts, right?

At this rate, K'vir is going to leave in a completely different outfit and clothes that are NOT his style or taste but… it's better than the alternative! He'll catch his boot, but set it aside for later. The shirt is taken with a nod of thanks and similarly he'll dress himself once Aignes isn't looking. "Well, at least this has been sorted?" The clothing, anyhow. The rest? Not so much. But what occurs between F'inn and Aignes is none of his business. "Hope whatever it was, you get some answers." Now he just has to find his jacket and his other boot, both of which aren't too difficult to dig up after a few minutes of shuffling pillows around. "So…" Awkward again! "… I should probably get back to Xanadu. Don't mean to run off on you too, I mean — sometimes I like to offer drinks or something." Shoulders lift in a shrug. "But I won't impose. And, uh — probably not wise for me to linger too long. Wouldn't doubt some folk here are already suspicious."

At least they're both clothed and that's a success! Even if Aignes is giving up on finding the bunny slippers. She'll just claim a pair of yellow ducky slippers from the basket that both S'van and K'vir had refused to use. She'll nod as he leaves even as she's busy bundling the blankets into a giant ball. "By all means, go. I didn't mean to keep you." Well, flight-Aignes did, but regular-Aignes would never want to impose. "I'll just be dropping these off at the laundry." BEFORE they open and anybody can ask questions. And then she can get back to her regular scheduled mortification about bodily functions.

"Right." K'vir's going to fumble a farewell now! Jacket is slipped on and he'll give his best smile that is only slightly awkward for the moment. "Well." What does one even say at this point? Thank you? Sorry? All of the above? He's always been terrible with words and so he just lands on the easiest and most neutral. "Clear skies and uh… yeah. Take care." There! That'll have to do, because now it's his turn to make his exit.


Add a New Comment