Xanadu Weyr - Avi & Shy's Room
It's a suit of rooms and stuff.
The time has come. They knew it would, but that doesn't make it any easier. All the preparation in the world doesn't really prepare one for moving back into a dormitory. But this morning, there are boxes in the room and bags open on the bed and it is clearly time to pack up what they're going to need during their time in the barracks and… move in. Shiloh's put it off long enough, too. They got up late. They ate a leisurely breakfast. They wandered the gardens a bit. But now, there is no more putting off the inevitable. It's time to pack up.
Averil is not happy, not even a little bit, and pretending otherwise is simply impossible for the artist. The closer they get to the room, the slower he moves and by the time they are stepping inside, there are already tears in his eyes. He's trying to be strong, though, trying very, very hard. Trying to the point that he immediately turns away, putting his back to the room filled with boxes and sucking in a deep, watery breath. It is the fact that the very last thing he wants is to be a burden on Shiloh that has him pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to still the tears. And, while it does hold back the waterworks, it does nothing to stop the guttural sob that spills past his lips.
Shiloh knows. He wouldn't even need to see him to know. He probably anticipated as much (and is definitely bracing for a bit more) given the subject matter. So he reaches out, tugs Averil close so he can wind his arms around him and hold him for a moment, face buried into blond hair so he can kiss his crown. "It's alright," he promises. "It's temporary. We just wanna get a few things packed away so they're stored safely while we're gone. And we wanna bring what we'll need while we're in the barracks." But even if he tells himself that for a few days, it doesn't really make it easier for Shiloh, either. "Think of it as a vacation."
While Avi absolutely needs the comfort, it is still enough to have the tears falling, his arms wrapping in a tight cling around the beastcrafter's waist. He's shaking his head, though, at the ascertion that it is alright. It is not alright. It is the most horrible thing that he has ever even had to consider doing. It is the ascertion that it is temporary that has him nodding his head in understanding. He KNOWS. He does. He believes that in the very pit of his being, but the thought of it? Of actually doing it inspires a shuddering breath as his hands twist in the fabric of Shiloh's shirt. It's temporary. Unless one, or both of them impress. "I…" While he had intended to say something light about vacations, he just can't do it. Instead, his face immediately tightens again, his shoulders hitching violently as he struggles to hold back sobs. "Ok."
It's temporary. Even if one, or both of them Impress, it's temporary. At least, living in the barracks is temporary. This room might become someone else's rooms. This space that once belong to them might belong to someone else. But they would have a new space to share. These are things which Shiloh might have said, if he thought it would provide any comfort. For now, he simply holds him tight and presses another kiss to his head, letting Averil get past the initial wave of emotion. "C'mon," he encourages, a final squeeze offered before he's dropping his arms so they can move into the room and get started. "Sort out what you want to bring. And remember; we can always come back here if we forget something." It isn't as though they will be very far away.
It is Shiloh's arms dropping away that has Avi drawing in a slow breath, his chin dipping in a nod as he forces himself to release his own hold and straighten up. Still, it takes him a few long moments of breathing to get himself to a place where he can think rationally and do what needs to be done. "I don't.." Frowning, he steps forward, his fingers trailing over the arm of the couch as his gaze sweeps the contents of the mainroom. "Do you think we can bring linens," he whispers in quiet tones. "I want to bring a blanket and pillows." Of course, he intends to steal Shiloh's pillows so he has the beastcrafter's scent at night. It is with an unexpected tilt of his chin that he glances at his wardrobe and frowns. Most of his dresses would be ruined engaging in physical work. "I guess.. I need to bring pants."
"I don't see why not." Bringing linens and blankets. "Think they provide ‘em but I don't think they'll pitch a fit if you bring your own." Shiloh spares a glance at Avi before moving through the room and into the bedroom, deftly tossing a pair of pillows into a box and following it with a blanket. "Not sure the sheets'll fit the bed, though." So those he'll leave behind. He's already moving toward the wardrobe to grab his own clothes (all two pairs of pants and three shirts) to toss toward the bed and the bags. No time like the present to get started. But Averil's words bring him pause, and he glances toward the artist again. "Or," he offers, "ask the stores if they have some suitable skirts." A frown and he admits, "I don't know if weyrlings are allowed to wear skirts," as he's clearly considering the eventuality that lands Avi with a dragon.
"I don't need sheets," Avi admits as he pads after Shiloh. It's the sight of the items being tossed in the box that has his face tightening, a woeful expression tracing over his features as he lowers his head. It takes him a moment to pull himself together, and when he does, it comes with his head raising to snort as he shoots a look at Shiloh. That? He really doesn't think that that is going to be an issue he has to deal with any time soon. Rather then comment on it, though, he steps over to the wardrobe, pulling open the doors and staring at the fluffy, frilly dresses hanging within. "I have a few pairs of pants," he sighs as he starts pulling out the dresses and folding them, one by one, into the boxes on the floor. "I have a few pairs of the denim you like, the ones I brought to the ranch." By the third one, though, tears are rolling down his cheeks, his breathing taking on a shallow, stuttering quality.
Shiloh gently takes the dress from Avi's hand and lays it on the box. "You don't need to pack everything," he reminds. "Just the things you want to bring, or that might be better kept in boxes." A touch of his chin seeks to turn the artist's gaze to his own. "We're not moving, Avi. We're temporarily staying in the barracks. And you don't need to bring work clothes unless you wanna." A glance at the dresses and back at the artist. "All that's changing is where we're sleeping. That's it." For now, at least. "Pack a few dresses. Pack a few items you wouldn't mind getting ruined. But don't think of this as the end of something, cause it isn't. All that's changing is where we're sleeping."
Averil draws in a slow breath, his chin tilting up at the guidance of the beastcrafter's hand. Temporary. It's all temporary. Repeating that a few times in his head, he finally nods and returns his dress to the wardrobe, his fingers smoothing the wrinkles out of delicate ruffles. "I think.. I have a few skirts I can bring," he admits. It is the last that has him glancing back at Shiloh, pale grey eyes watching his face before he nods firmly. "I know. It's not that I think this is the end of us," he promises. He knows that that is not the case, there is not a doubt in him. "I just…" The idea of being back in an open dorm, surrounded by strangers? It's a nightmare for Averil. Lowering his head for a moment, he attempts to shake the dread off, reminding himself that no one is going to be foolish enough to try to hurt him with Shiloh right there. It's that that has him pulling out the denim pants and a few sturdy skirts he'd had made for riding. Clutching the items against his chest, he turns back around and steps over to carefully lay them out on the bed.
"We're going to be fine." It's a promise that Shiloh intends to keep. Claiming a quick kiss, he drops his hand so Avi can go about his task, watching quietly for a moment before turning to fold his clothes and tuck them into a bag. "I'm not looking forward to being back in a dorm either," he admits, having guessed (or simply recalling prior conversations) about what Averil's hesitation might be. "But this is different. We're sharing a dorm with other candidates. You know them. Some of them. And I'll be there." It might not make the prospect of living in shared quarters anymore enticing, but hopefully it can take a bit of that fear away. "Do you have your journal?"
Avi glances up at the question, a flicker of relief immediately trailing through his eyes at the reminder. Welcoming the kiss, he momentarily curls his fingers in Shiloh's shirt, his grip tightening before releasing. "I do. I keep it in my satchel so it is with me all the time." The journal has gone a long, long way toward keeping him calm and it shows in the smile that dances on his face. "I copied down the rules like you instructed," he admits. "The originals are still carefully tucked in the pages, though." In the wake of the words, his expression softens, a slow breath drawn in as he turns to go throw the wardrobe in search of tops. One by one, choices are made and placed on the bed to be folded and tucked into his bag. "I need a smaller bag for toiletries," he admits. "I have to have my brush and hair ties." The thought of bathing with other people, though, inspires a wrinkle of his nose and a look of distaste.
"There're bags on the bed," says Shiloh, chin-jutting toward them. "Pick one?" It's not meant to be rude. But this is a man who tends to pack an extra pair of socks and maybe one extra shirt and call it a day. The idea of bringing products doesn't occur to him. Soaps and shampoos and oils and lotions — all that stuff just goes over his head. (and of course, his own hair isn't exactly high maintenance). Bathing with others might get a grimace from the beastcrafter, but that's at least one part of living in a Weyr that's gotten somewhat easier (even if he'll definitely miss their private bathroom). Snagging Avi's clothes, he's quick to roll them up and tuck them into a satchel, adding, "There's a trunk with each cot, if I recall correctly. So you can bring more than just clothes." If he wants. "You can use my trunk, too," he adds. "Probably won't need much space."
Avi finds it charming that Shiloh is so to the point, his lips twitching in a warm smile as he snags one of the bags and slips into the bathroom. Course, Avi does need all the lotions and soaps and shampoos and oils and brushes and ties. So that bag? Pretty packed when he steps back out and reaches for the bag of clothing on the bed. "Oh! Boots!" Dropping the bag, he turns and grabs his boots and another pair of low heels and shoves them all in the bag before struggling to close it. "Okay…I think I have everything." And if he doesn't, he'll just sneak back here to get what he needs. Course, he has two big bags to Shiloh's one, and he is most assuredly going to add more, later. The offer of Shiloh's trunk space? Definitely something Avi will be accepting.
"Okay. Good," comes as Shiloh surveys the items they intend to bring, and then those they intend to leave. Pressing his lips flat, he takes a quick breath before reaching out and snagging the box with the blankets and pillow, tossing his bag on top. This is all he really needs. A change of clothes and some clean socks, the boots on his feet and the hat on his head. And Avi, whom he snags with a quick reach of his hand to catch the artist's own. "Let's go, then." No need to linger and potentially inspire more unwelcome emotions. So a moment later, he's heading for the door without a backwards glance, tugging Averil along with him.