Against All Measures

Xanadu Weyr - Sephany's Room
It's a room. It does not have a desc yet because Sephany-player is lazy. Imaginations must be used. (I am only a little sorry)

The fated time has come and while its hardly the stroke of midnight, there is the soft wrapping of knuckles upon the door. Knock, Knock-knock. Who is it? Why it's your friendly neighborhood starcrafter! When the door does open, the first thing of note, is that Valerian looked like crap. Brutalized, no doubt, by the egg touching he said he'd be attending and would come afterwards for his robe fitting. It was all very impromtu, but Nova his little blue had dropped off a note for Sephany and then winked back out. But, here he was, standing there all uncomfortable like, "Sorry I'm late." Like really late, like maybe he needed to deal with the aftermath before coming to see the weaver, his eyes a bit red and puffy.

Being one of those insufferable morning-types, it's really something of a wonder that Sephany is awake at all. But as it was her suggestion that they have a midnight robe-rendezvous, the weaver has bolstered herself with copious amounts of liquid stimulation, mostly in the form of Klah. Which is what resides in the mug, that remains in her hand, when she lifts herself out of her small armchair and crosses the modest room to answer the soft knuckle-rapping that is Valerian. Who looks like shit. "It's fine," for being late, a bit of a frown coming for the general un-cheerfulness that is the starcrafter. "You look…" terrible, "…Do you want some Klah? Or would you prefer tea?" and with that, the door is swung wide and Sephany turns to motion him into the room with her Klah-holding hand. At least she's dressed; right down to the slippers on her feet.

Sephany could have answered that door naked and Valerian wouldn't have batted an eye at her, not that she wasn't beautiful and worth looking at, but honestly he was about as interested in her as she was in him that way. In the starcrafter's case, he wasn't interested in anyone at all, not in a romantic or carnal sense. What had happened tonight had been case and point, but he had given his word that he would be there and so he has indeed shown up as he'd said he would. Grey eyes slide to hers and he says nothing as she decides not to tell him how crappy he looked. He felt like crap, but it was far too early yet to curl up and die a little. Have no fear though, he'd made a reservation at dawn for his cot. "No…" he replies to her offer of refreshment, taking the offer of stepping inside as it is given and so steps over the threshold within. He shivers a bit, despite his coat, and yet sheds it and his footwear at the door as not to track anything unpleasant across the weavers nice clean floor. It was impossible to miss that his characteristic Cheshire grin was missing, especially since he was wide awake at his favorite time of the day night cycle.

"Are you sure?" asked when her offer of a beverage is refused. The door is shut once Valerian has entered, and Sephany is quick to skip across the room around him toward her nighstand. The mug is set down, and she knees to tug two giant cushions from beneath the bed. It's a decently sized room, but it serves as living room, bedroom, study and work-space so… not terribly roomy. It was clearly meant to be temporary accommodations, though with the growing number of personal items cluttering the space, it looks as though the weaver may be making a permanent move to Xanadu. There is precious little in the way of seating, other than the small bed (shoved against a wall), a tiny armchair (shoved into the corner opposite) and an uncomfortable looking wooden chair pushed under the desk (against the wall opposite the bed), and so large cushions have been purloined from storage and are used as temporary seating whenever she's got guests. Such as now. So out comes a pair of floor pillows; tossed into the center of the space to be used as desired. "Do you want to talk about it?" is asked next, the blond collecting her Klah as she stands.

Valerian nods his head once as he hangs up his coat and settles his footwear, "Yeah," he says in reply. He was sure, since his stomach was still as unsettled as the rest of him was. He glances over as Sephany sets about pulling out pillows and such, his expression hard to read and it might even be weird that he wasn't either half-asleep or transforming his entire head into that toothy grin of his that was so ridiculous. "I thought you were going to measure me for a…robe." He almost said dress, because that's what the garment looked like to him and the fact he would be naked beneath it and wearing only a pair of sandals otherwise didn't help that image. It didn't matter that Kelani had tried to summon up feelings of unity and a sense of tradition, it was still a dress and it would always be a dress. What was bothering the usually playful stargazer? That was the question of the day was it not? The boy lifts and drops his shoulders in that teenagery way that seemed so universal even as he walks over and unceremoniously plops himself onto the pillow that had been provided. "You really want to hear about the one time I let myself feel any thing other than platonic for another person?" he asks, and that might even had been meant rhetorically because it didn't sound as if he really wanted to talk about it at all. "I've never touched a dragon egg before, but I'm fairly sure I won't want to again after tonight."

"I was, until you showed up looking like…" There are no polite words. "Anyway. It won't take me more than thirty seconds to get your length. That's all I really need. The whole thing is rather shapeless… just don't want you running around in something too short," which is a long and rambly way of saying, "Getting measured can wait." Sephany nudges a pillow into position with her foot, correcting the angle of it before she sinks down (a lot more gracefully than her somber companion) to take a seat. "If that is what you want to talk about," offered genuinely enough, "Though it looks as if you've relived it enough for one night." A sip of Klah, because not everyone is a nocturnal vampire, and a frown. "But if you want to, I'm happy to listen. Not sure I would be the best for advice though…" and there's a bit of a sardonic sort of curl to the corner of her mouth. "I suck at relationships." So, so badly. But as the topic of eggs arises, there's a flicker of something else across the weaver's face before she decides, "I'm starting to be thankful I can't feel anything from them," which may or may not be true. "Was it really that bad?"

Folding his legs before him, Valerian sighs a bit and looks long and hard at the weaver, but not in a way that was anything other than discerning. He lets her speak, only interjecting once she reveals that she wasn't the best to give advice considering her own bad luck with relationships, resting an elbow on one of his thighs and upturning his palm so that he had a place to put his chin. Fingers curling in against it, "I don't need advice, it's over and done with." And that there, ends the conversation, or rather it would have had Sephany not moved on to the topic of the eggs immediately afterwards. A topic which has his gaze sliding off somewhere else and he nods his head again, only once. "It wasn't so bad at the start, but by the third one I was done. Didn't even ask to leave, just took my hands off it and marched myself straight off the sands, across the meadow and hunkered down to be by myself. Not sure the weyrlingmaster knew what to think about it, other than most of us didn't handle them so well." A silent inhale and then exhale that wanted to be a sigh, but lacked the effort. "I know they're not even born yet, but it was…brutal. They reach down inside of you and pull out everything you try to hide. From those around you and even yourself and splay it out before your eyes and then pick it apart. Demanding to know who you are, why you're there, what you want…"

Clearly, chatting about former relationships is off the table, which doesn't look like it at all upsets the weaver. Screw relationships. As talk of eggs and touchings begins, Sephany sips at her drink like it's the only thing keeping her eyes open and does her best to listen and comprehend what is being shared. A frown or a furrow of eyebrows, a careful repositioning of limbs and the curl of fingers around her mug; these are all that comes from the blond until Valerian's sentence is fading away. "That sounds terrible," and she really means it, too; looking rather discomforted by the notion of having those hidden things brought back to haunt her. Just the suggestion has likely brought to mind one or two, by the expression that crosses her face, mug briefly set aside on the cold stone floor so that she can wrap her arms around her legs. "Why would an unborn dragon even care about that stuff?" It's mostly rhetorical. And then there is scooting, and arms that wrap around Valerian instead, and a head that finds his shoulder. A squeeze of her arms, for reassurance perhaps. Solidarity in the face of imposing fears and unbidden memories. "I'm sorry Leirith's eggs are assholes."

Valerian side eyes Sephany and her eye-propping sipping of klah, then dart to wherever inside the tiny room the time is kept. It was late for a daywalker…shards…now she had him thinking he was a vampire too. A twitch for that, and then again at mention of terribleness. Honestly, his description had nothing on the actual experience but he wasn't going to go into further detail about it. At least not while it and the resulting wounds were so fresh that they ached and throbbed. "Your guess is as good as mine, but I guess its their way of testing what the candidates are made of so that they can choose the best match of those provided at the hatching." Or something, he couldn't remember how it had been explained to him, even if it had only been a few days ago. Rhetorical or not, that question of hers had validity, even if Vale's reply lacked in reliability. "I guess, they probe about and look for the face that matches the thoughts they remember from that time their shell was touched or something…I don't know what I'm talking about seriously, you shouldn't even be listening to m…." And then Sephany was moving forward and had her arms around him, causing the starcrafter to sit up rigidly straight with his arms and hands sort of hovering out in the open air, "Okay I guess we're hugging now…" Blink-blink. Grey eyes slide towards the head that now rests on his shoulder and though he does relax in the following seconds of the embrace, the patpat he offers to the weaver's shoulder is no less awkward. Pat. Pat….pat. "Yeah, well…I'm going to murder my sister…does this mean you'll help me hide the body?"

Yes, there is hugging now! Blame sleep-deprivation or something. The weaver-girl is used to seeing the sunrise only because she tends to go to bed before it has even set. She is straight-up running on caffeine and will-power, both of which seem to come with a side-effect that presents itself in the form of side-hugs and strictly-platonic affection. EMBRACE IT! "I came here to help her; assisting with body-disposal seems counter-productive to that aim," she quips. "I'll give you an alibi, though. How's that?" And maybe she's not oblivious to that awkwardness (certainly she is aware of that pat-pat happening there), but the longer her head is just sorta… there, and the longer she's doing that leaning thing (which is becoming suspiciously more like a 'I have lost the will to support myself and you are now the only thing keeping me upright' lean, rather than a friendly 'we're friends and I'm hugging you' sort of lean) to closer she's getting to unconsciousness. Sleep. It's coming for Sephany with the speed and ferocity of a hurricane. "… You just have to tell them you're not gonna take that…" or something. Really, does she know what she's saying? No. But she knows that she doesn't know what she's saying, because she offers a murmured and distinctly slurred, "I think I need to go to bed now…" Arms fall away, and for a split second there, Valerian really is indanger of having Sephany falling asleep while using his shoulder as a pillow. But no. Somehow, the willpower is summoned and she pushes away. "How do you even do it?" probably because he sleeps during the DAY. "I'll measure you later. Or… I'll just guess really carefully."

Brows raise, getting a good taste of what he looks like trying to stay up during the day, and so very glad that R'eyn had caught him sneaking out. No one had told Valerian (not even his craftmasters) that as long as he was physically fit, could read and write, that he could continue on his normal schedule. Sure, that meant little interaction with the others of his candidate class, but there were a few deviants that were easy to lure out into the dead of night. "Eh, we'll negotiate the terms later after you've stopped trying to use me as a mattress." The further she leans the longer that Vale can't hold back the roll of his eyes and so doing he's soon scooping the slightness of the weaver up in his arms and carrying her over to her bed, "Yeah well, embryos don't negotiate…its in their contracts." Finagling the covers of the bed, he slips Sephany into it and promptly tosses the blanker up over her, slippers and all. "Sleeping helps…" Yep, smartass. There is a nod for later measuring and then a sigh as he cleans up the mug of klah and puts the visitor pillows away and just heads for the coat and boots he left at the door. He doesn't bother to do more than slip on his footwear before he's open the door and closing it again behind him. Ensuring it's locked, he tugs his coat back on, soon trotting along across the courtyard back towards the observatory.

Sephany is asleep before he's even made it to the door to acquire boots and jacket. Zzzzzz

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