
Xanady Weyr - Weyr in the Woods (Sh'y and Avi's Weyr)
Stepping out of the trees one finds themselves standing in a carefully chaotic garden filled with colorful blooms and greenery boasting graceful lines and delicate leaves and overhung with slender branches creating a whimsical canopy against the sky overhead. Nestled in the center of the garden grove stands a cottage and outbuilding that seems torn from the very pages of a fairy story. The cottage, itself, comprised of gabled roofs and stone walls is painted in pale shades of sage green and adorned with thick wooden beams treated against the weather, but otherwise retaining their natural hue. Flower boxes adorn the windows, the bright colors mimicking the blooms adorning the chaotically overgrown garden.
To the left of, and slightly behind, the cottage, a smaller, squatter outbuilding seems to be part of the hedgerows surrounding the Southern edge of the grove. Here, the roof is gently sloped and rounded, the stone walls of the building a warm candlelit hue. Like the cottage, the windows all boast flower boxes, the area directly before the cottage cleared away to provide space for a cobblestone patio. From here, one can clearly see the modest stone well behind the main cottage and the small backyard complete with a sturdy wooden swing affixed to branches high overhead and the set of table and chairs arranged alongside a fire pit.
From the back of the cottage, a narrow but well-groomed pathway winds through the trees to a shallow creek, a small, sturdy bridge with delicate railings stretching across the water. Across the bridge, the path continues to wind its way through the woods before opening up to a gently sloping meadow that, in the spring and summer, is sure to be filled with bright green grasses and colorful wildflowers. The space is more than large enough for the two dragons that call it home, the center open to the sky to provide easy coming and going for the winged residents. Tall trees along the border provide a natural shelter against the elements, their slender limbs tangling to form a lattice-like canopy along the edge, while a man-made three-sided shelter just inside the forest provides a more robust shelter if needed.
Disclaimer: language
Avi might be losing his mind. He feels like he is losing his mind. And woe unto Shy when he comes home, because Avi looks like he is losing his mind. His clothing is everywhere and I mean, everywhere. The entire first floor, every piece of furniture is covered in frills and lace, a chaotic cacophony of pink and white and blue. Avi? Avi is standing in the middle of the room, alternating between cursing violently and sobbing. Clearly, he is upset. Upset enough that he is shredding one of the dresses with his bare hands.
Cursing violently. Shredding a dress? It's a miracle Sh'y doesn't haul him straight to the healers the moment he walks in the door. And maybe it is only the potential threat of violence read in the ripping of clothes that has him hesitating, closing the distance with slow, cautious steps and hands held out in clear 'mean you no harm' gesture. "Avi?" is asked tentatively, concern coloring his tone and his expression as he frowns and takes a quick glance at the carnage around them. "What happened?" He wants to rush forward. He wants to check him for signs of abuse; to clutch him close as the worst sort of thoughts run through his head. But it is Mirieth's lack of… distress(?) that has him waiting. She isn't acting like her rider was just attacked, even if she's not quite herself either.
Mirieth? Mirieth is lounging in her meadow, bored and completely uninterested in her lifermate's distress. She's aware of it, she doesn't care. Not right now. Avi, however, is a different matter, his head turning toward Sh'y with a slowness that is probably a little bit frightening. Particularly with the pointed wild look in his eyes. "Everything," he snarls. "Is pink." And blue and white, but that's a given. "Why would you let me dress like this? Do you hate me? You must hate me." And now that all that ire has somewhere to focus on? Well, it has Avi stalking slowly toward Sh'y, the shreds of the dress held up in his hands and shaken violently. "Pink."
Nothing in Weyrlinghood has prepared Shy for this. Nothing. He's pretty sure there's a right answer to that question, but his sudden blank-brain results in a resoundingly uncertain, "uh…" as he looks wide-eyed between the carnage and his weyrmate(?) (JURY IS NOW OUT ON WHETHER THIS IS AVI OR SOME BODY-SNATCHED VERSION OF HIM). "But you… like pink?" His voice only goes higher with each word, it's fine. "And of course I don't hate you," he says, circling back to the IMPORTANT THINGS. "I love you."
Avi is clearly waiting for an answer, a fact made plain when his lips press in a thinline and his eyes get progressively more narrow. "Oh, so because I like pink it's all I can wear? Is that how it goes? IS IT?" The last is uttered as he shakes the torn fabric and promptly turns away. "I can't wear any of this," he declares as he all but collapses amidst the lace and frills and sobs. Course, it's a little bit psychotic how quickly he goes from sobbing to slow turning to stare at Sh'y over his shoulder. "If you loved me, you wouldn't let me dress like a cupcake."
There is not a word for what Sh'y is right now. 'Confused' is not nearly strong enough. He just kind of stands there, halfway through the sea of slaughtered-stuff and stares at him. "I…" There is no good answer for this. None. And somewhere in Sh'y's brain, he realizes this. But then his stupidity kicks in and he can't help but say, "… don't dress you like anything? You wanted to wear all of these." RIP SHY. "You love pink. And not all of them are pink. That one is blue!" is followed with a point of his finger to the (RIP) garment.
Avi draws in a slow breath. The sort of slow breath that is accompanied by wild eyes and a twitch of his head. "OH. I see. So this is all my fault?" Glancing at the blue dress, he twists around on his knees and picks it up, shaking it violently before pitching it toward the hearth. Fortunately, he misses because that is, actually his favorite Alice dress. "Fine." Surging to his feet, his hands bracing on his hips. "I knew you were just humoring me."
DO NOT SAY YES. THIS IS A TRAP. "… No…?" This is, perhaps, not better. Sh'y's stony statue is broken at the flick of the dress. He doesn't quite dive for it, but he does hasten to retrieve it before it can be in any real danger or distress, recognizing on some level at least, that Avi would be upset later to have ruined it. "Avi…" he says, laying the garment aside. "What has gotten into you?" Confusion is rapidly becoming something of frustration, as Sh'y recognizes that his little artist is not in any danger but is clearly under some sort of spell distress. He moves to close the distance, reaching out as though to grab his elbow, though he does not actually finish the move and put fingers to flesh. "You're acting" DO NOT SAY CRAZY "weird." THIS IS PROBABLY NOT BETTER.
"I'm acting… What?" As the question is asked, Avi does a classic horror movie slow turn, golden hair flying in wild disarray as he tilts his head sharply to the side. "What? How am I acting, Shiloh?" Weird. The word earns a slow inhale, his lips pressing in a thin line as he takes a moment to process that. Now, it should be clear that his mind is not currently processing things the way it normally does. "Weird. Mmm. Because I don't want to dress like a cupcake?" Just, you know, to be clear. "Or maybe it's just that you don't think I can be sexy. Is that it?" Where that came from? WHO CAN SAY?
Sh'y's, "No!" comes out a little stronger than he'd intended, frustration rising into irritation the longer he's accused of things. "Because you're throwing around all your favorite things and asking me why you're dressed like a cupcake when you like to dress this way!" The words come with a huff and a rake of his hands through his hair that has the unfortunate side-effect of sending his hat tumbling to the ground. Sh'y twists, bending at the hips to yank it back up, and then moves around the space nudging bits of lace and trim into piles so he can see the floor. "Seriously? Avi…" comes with the last, a look shot at his artist. "I tell you you're sexy all the time…!" So confused. SO confused.
Avi bristles visibly at the shout, his eyes narrowing as he folds his arms over his chest. "You should have told me that you thought I look like a cupcake." Because clearly that is what Sh'y said. Glancing down at the frippery on the floor, he rolls his eyes at the piles pastel lace and ruffles, his lips curling in a sneer. "I need to go shopping." He needs leather and black.. Lots of black.. Maybe some deep blood red, as well. It's Sh'y's last that has him shooting a look the bluerider's way. "You haven't told me now? Instead, you're yelling at me!"
"I didn't say you looked like a cupcake, you said you looked like a cupcake— You don't look like a cupcake!" This is going from bad to worse, and Sh'y is apparently going to go down with the ship, kicking the next pile of lace out of his way and sending it… flopping over undramatically for the effort. He sighs, the sound more draconic than necessary, hand raised to pinch at the bridge of his nose to try and summon some Zen back. And then he just stares at him again, disbelief written clearly in his expression. "Because you're acting like a bitch! There is nothing sexy about that!" Oop. Welp. RIP Shy. It was nice knowing you.
Avi sucks in a sharp breath at the word bitch, his lips parting despite the fact that nothing comes out. After a moment, the expression of shock on his face transforms itself into a sneer. "Bitch." Again there is a lengthy silence before he repeats even more slowly. "Bitch." It's the repetition that does it, his eyes narrowing as he turns on his heel and stalks across the room to grab his straps off their hook. "I'm going shopping. You should be moved into the outbuilding before I get back." Course, it should be noted at this point that in the meadow, Mirieth is 'cackling' with a glee that is a little bit frightening, pushing up to her feet to meet Avi the moment he hits the bridge. « We should color the ends of your hair black, » she suggests.