[LOG] Spoons.
Who: Evayne, Devan.
What: Devan fell asleep in a bad place. Evayne helps him.
Where: Common room, dorms, HRW.
When: 4/26/2009
4/26/2009
Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#378RJs)
Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts.
The late hour finds most of the Weyr asleep or on the way, although these are sleepless times so maybe the majority finds themselves restlessly wandering or laying awake while their minds race endlessly on and on and on. Or, if you're Devan, your mind stopped racing like an hour ago when it hit a certain spot in your book and you just couldn't go on anymore. Maybe he didn't even realize it when he fell asleep in his chair. It certainly doesn't look like much care was put into it. His hand lays sprawled across the back of the book turned pages-down onto his chest, his other arm dangles over the chair's, his legs are stretched out, long things. And his head is turned to one side, eyes closed. The room is empty save for his big sleeping self.
She is not amongst those happily tucked away in bed -- no, Evayne would be part of the sleepless number, doing the 'restlessly wandering' thing. Still, she's definitely /starting/ to look sleepy, which is probably why she's finally decided to stop with the thinking and start with the trying to go to bed. She's even heading that way -- when she spots Devan, asleep in his chair, and she just sort of stops, blinking slowly over in that direction. There's a glance back over her shoulder to maybe see if there's somebody looking on, like hey-the-joke-is-on-you, but no, there's nobody there, and so she's looking back towards him. /Frown/. Still, it doesn't take her too long to collect her brain enough to pad over, reach for the book with one hand, and reach for his shoulder to shake him lightly with the other. Shake. "Devan," she says, voice only just above a whisper.
It doesn't take a lot. Big though he may be, deep sleeper he is not. If she'd been wearing heavier shoes or taking heavier steps, that probably would have done it. As it is there's nothing to warn him of her presence but her hand on his shoulder and that nudging. His name in her voice is overkill. All at once his hand lifts to cover hers (stop it) and he turns his head to focus on where he assumes her voice came from and opens his eyes to look at-- well, her face is actually a little more to the left, there he goes. Once he has her in sight he blinks to clear his vision and furrows his brow at her. "What're we doin'?" Burble burble.
Blink. Blink. There's a moment of confusion at his question, and then Eva is laughing softly, squeezing his shoulder instead of shaking it, turning away just long enough to set his book down on the nearest table. "You fell asleep while reading," she points out softly, as she turns back to him and offers a little reassuring smile. "Didn't want you to get a sore back, so I figured I'd wake you up. Hi." Reassurance turns to uncertainty, in that smile of hers. Still, there's no move made to step back, to take her hand off of his shoulder, or anything.
Sore back. "Oh." Sleepy. His eyes are closing again. It's the touching. If she wants him to wake up she shouldn't massage him. Rule one. The book is history, Bitra. Exciting stuff, no wonder he couldn't keep consciousness. A little late, but no less warm, and gentle even, he gives her a "hi" back and takes a deep breath in. He can't see her uncertain little smile, but he can hear something, maybe, in her voice. So instead of that breath being the one he takes before he gets the whole waking, standing thing over with, it's the breath he takes before he reaches with his paw to snag her waist and maybe pull her into his lap? Maybe? There's plenty of it. He makes a better looking chair than his chair, anyway.
Oh, lap. Evayne doesn't resist /that/ in the slightest, though she does pull her hand off of his shoulder, the better to snuggle herself in against him right, hook her arm up around his other shoulder and neck. It doesn't take her but a moment to get herself settled against him, to close her own eyes and decide that she's comfy. "Had a long day today," she tells him. "Glad you were here." Yeah, uncertainty is gone, now. Now she's just lazy and pleased and comfortable.
Cozy is good for describing Devan. Hopefully she'll use the meat of his shoulder and not the bone part for relaxing against though, yikes. She hooks her arm, he loops his sort-of under her so she won't slip and with the other he trails fingers up and down her arm, then just loops her in with that one too. Caught. This is better than getting up. Aaand his eyes are definitely closed again, and he's turning his head a little towards the sound of her voice, which puts his chin somewhere near her forehead. Oops, oh well. "Glad 'm here too." Long silence. Is he asleep? No, his hand twitches. "Long day?" So verbose right now.
While she started out as a wound up little ball of tension, Evayne rather swiftly relaxes once both of his arms are around her. Caught is not, apparently, a state that she objects to in the slightest. Not right now, at least. The physical contact goes a long way towards helping her calm herself. "Mmmhmm," she agrees. Yes, it was a long day. No, she seemingly has no need to talk about it. Instead, she sort of pulls her head back away from his chin, tilting just so so that she can press her lips against the underside of his jaw. Her own eyes aren't /entirely/ closed, but they are mostly so. "S'over now, though."
"Mm," he agrees. Over now though. Good. And she's comfortable, apparently, or so the kiss would imply. Hopefully she isn't not-okay with being close with him putting off as much body heat as he does, because really. It's amazing he doesn't sweat more. Or spontaneously combust. Devan doesn't say anything anymore, because there isn't anything to say. He just takes another deep breath in that lifts her, speeds up his heartbeat briefly beneath her, and rubs his hand drowsily along her-- thigh. Oops. Well, he isn't really paying attention, you can't blame him.
Heat, bad? No way. Eva still misses Igen, after all. It's /cold/, here. Even now. There doesn't seem to be any objection to the wandering of his hand; she only exhales a soft little content sort of sigh, letting her lashes drift the rest of the way down and pressing a few more kisses along his jaw. She does open her mouth to say something further, but whatever it is doesn't apparently make the grade, because she does not actually follow through with it, closing her lips on whatever it might have been. Her free hand does lift, fingers reaching to brush along his cheek. All affectionate, right now.
Scruffy jaw. Poor lips. His reaction to her affections is another, though little, sigh that ends in a small little barely perceptible happy noise. Because he has a lap full of pretty girl, he's warm and comfortable, and the pretty girl is kissing him in nice little spots. And she doesn't care that he fell asleep reading a boring book in one of the most public places in the Weyr, like a total doof. Somewhere in his tired brain an impulse emerges like a shape in a smokey haze. It makes him move his arm so that he can shift her legs higher up, scoot himself over and up a little and scoot her over so she's kind of on her back... there. In the end he's twisted himself awkwardly at the waist so he can rest his head on her, somewhere above her stomach and below her neck, that area, with his arms around her still. Poor little Evayne.
While she makes certain to not make any movements of her own while he's moving her around -- save to cooperate, where needed -- Evayne does open her eyes so she can squint at him once he's resettled again. The laugh that escapes is quite and threaded with affection, even as she's reaching to push him up a bit, to start the process of trying to escape from his lap entirely. Wiggle. "C'mon," she tells him. "Devan. You are not going to sleep like that." As adorable as it might be. "Let's go to bed. More room. That /can't/ be comfortable."
Pushing? Nooo. His eyebrows pinch together and he opens his eyes too to lift a narrow, unhappy look up at her chin or something. "Is too." Comfortable. Must be. Still, she does prove a point. He can't sleep like that. They can't. Because suddenly they're in this together. Leave him to his own devices, he'd still be here in the morning. But she's here now, and that means he needs to think about her too. /She/ can't sleep like this. And it's only when his fuzzy brain comes to that conclusion that he pushes up off of her and brings his hands to his face to scrub at it. Scratch. "'M tired," he tells her, sadly.
"Me too," Eva points out, sliding herself off of his lap and up to her feet, neat as can be. But she doesn't go far, no -- she just collects his book with one hand, and one of his hands with the other. Tug, tug. "M'just saying sleep, it's okay. I know I'm asking for plenty, just getting you to move from chair to bed." And more tugging. She's definitely smiling now, all sorts of amused and pleased and affectionate. He really is just the cutest ever.
She has a hand. And his book. And a hand. And it's like she really is that strong, that that's all it takes to get him up, because up Devan goes until he's towering over her like he does. One hand's rubbing the back of his neck while he stretches, argh, and tugging. And okay, he shuffles a few steps towards the dorms, yawning. Once inside he turns some to go to his little sectioned-off alcove (privacy!) and unless she lets go of his hand or something she's coming with him.
Doesn't seem like she's got any intentions of doing anything but following along after him, since she's got his book, and all. Eva does manage to stifle another laugh that threatens, just watching him, but she really just can't get rid of that Cheshire smile she's wearing. Or the -- ack, yawn -- that escapes once his has triggered it. Right on after him into the alcove she goes, not even bothering to glance around and see if somebody might see her.
Neither does he. Glance, that is. Which could mean one of two things. a) he doesn't care if anybody sees or b) he's brought chicks back to his place before. Whatever, she's here now, in his lair, and he's unshielding a glowbasket out of habit just inside so she can see where it is exactly he's taken her. His 'room' is small, obviously, just room enough for the cot and the press and a little table off to one side. Devan leans to reach for the curtain that, when he unhooks it, closes them off from the rest of the sleepers. Also, he kicks off his boots. And does all of that one-handed.
His book is set on the little table, and then for all that he's dealing with things one handed, she tugs her fingers away so she can kneel down and untie her boots. Quick work is made of those knots and Eva is straightening again, shrugging off her jacket and just dropping it to sit on top of her boots. There's a little study of the curtain and the room itself, and then she's scooting to go slide into the cot and make herself comfortable. Pants are staying on, yes they are. Yawn. Her attention is so locked on him now, though. Completely.
Her pants are staying on? Will that mean she'll be uncomfortable when he pulls his sweater up and over his head and tosses it down where she left her jacket and boots? Hopefully not, because that's already done. It's nothing she hasn't seen anyway, right? He'll take a moment, just then, to study his bed. And its new addition. A slow grin curves his mouth, closed at first, then open with all those white teeth and that dimple. He knows this little space like the back of his hand, so he can cover that glow back up and crawl into cot with her no problem. Carefully, though, because he's bigger than she is and there isn't much room, but he stretches out alongside her and hesitates with his arm hovering. Where should he put it?
There is stillness for just a moment when he takes that moment to study his bed, and then he's grinning and so she's flashing up her own smile. As soon as the light is out though, Eva freezes once more -- making sure to not move when he's moving around, so as to not get herself bonked by being somewhere different than she was a moment ago. Once she's pretty sure he's at least mostly settled, she gingerly scoots herself in against him, nestling in all close, lifting herself up to accommodate his arm in case he wants to slide it under her. Closeness, so very, very good.
In the dark he grins again for her accomodation and takes advantage of it by, yeah, sliding his arm under her. All the better for making her closeness that much closer. And he puts his other arm around her too. Eventually his legs tangle up in hers, he ducks his head, and he presses his mouth to her hair. Which makes her pretty much entirely folded up. And silence, only his deep and even breathing and the smell of soap and something just so /him/.
The little sigh that escapes takes with it the last of her tension, all content sounding and followed by a slow yawn as it is. Eva gets herself settled promptly, but actually going to sleep takes longer -- she is at least practiced with staying still so as to not interrupt someone /else's/ sleep while she's still awake. So she nestles close and closes her eyes and enjoys this, losing herself to more pleasant thoughts before she eventually manages to drift off. Comfy.
OOC note: No, we're not going steady. Can't two people spoon anymore without there being eyebrows?
What: Devan fell asleep in a bad place. Evayne helps him.
Where: Common room, dorms, HRW.
When: 4/26/2009
4/26/2009
Resident Common Room, High Reaches Weyr(#378RJs)
Just off of the main passageway lies the small cavern that forms the hub of the residents' quarters, kept immaculately clean by the headwoman's staff and warmed in cold weather by a stone hearth to the left and well back from the entrance. Comfortable chairs and a plush fur arrayed before the hearth make an inviting spot to curl up with a book or handicraft, or just to sit and chat. Beyond, additional chairs stand in clusters throughout the room, some upholstered with age-softened hide, some plain wood. At the widest point of the cavern, a round table gleams with polish, though its surface is nicked and scarred from Turns of use. Beyond the table, the very back of the cavern often lies in shadow unless the glowbaskets there are unlidded to cast cozy pools of light. The commingled scents of klah, smoke and polish permeate the air along with the sweetness of rosemary and lavender.
Tapestries hang across the entrances to dormitories and more private quarters as well as the exit to the outer hall, colorful protections from drafts.
The late hour finds most of the Weyr asleep or on the way, although these are sleepless times so maybe the majority finds themselves restlessly wandering or laying awake while their minds race endlessly on and on and on. Or, if you're Devan, your mind stopped racing like an hour ago when it hit a certain spot in your book and you just couldn't go on anymore. Maybe he didn't even realize it when he fell asleep in his chair. It certainly doesn't look like much care was put into it. His hand lays sprawled across the back of the book turned pages-down onto his chest, his other arm dangles over the chair's, his legs are stretched out, long things. And his head is turned to one side, eyes closed. The room is empty save for his big sleeping self.
She is not amongst those happily tucked away in bed -- no, Evayne would be part of the sleepless number, doing the 'restlessly wandering' thing. Still, she's definitely /starting/ to look sleepy, which is probably why she's finally decided to stop with the thinking and start with the trying to go to bed. She's even heading that way -- when she spots Devan, asleep in his chair, and she just sort of stops, blinking slowly over in that direction. There's a glance back over her shoulder to maybe see if there's somebody looking on, like hey-the-joke-is-on-you, but no, there's nobody there, and so she's looking back towards him. /Frown/. Still, it doesn't take her too long to collect her brain enough to pad over, reach for the book with one hand, and reach for his shoulder to shake him lightly with the other. Shake. "Devan," she says, voice only just above a whisper.
It doesn't take a lot. Big though he may be, deep sleeper he is not. If she'd been wearing heavier shoes or taking heavier steps, that probably would have done it. As it is there's nothing to warn him of her presence but her hand on his shoulder and that nudging. His name in her voice is overkill. All at once his hand lifts to cover hers (stop it) and he turns his head to focus on where he assumes her voice came from and opens his eyes to look at-- well, her face is actually a little more to the left, there he goes. Once he has her in sight he blinks to clear his vision and furrows his brow at her. "What're we doin'?" Burble burble.
Blink. Blink. There's a moment of confusion at his question, and then Eva is laughing softly, squeezing his shoulder instead of shaking it, turning away just long enough to set his book down on the nearest table. "You fell asleep while reading," she points out softly, as she turns back to him and offers a little reassuring smile. "Didn't want you to get a sore back, so I figured I'd wake you up. Hi." Reassurance turns to uncertainty, in that smile of hers. Still, there's no move made to step back, to take her hand off of his shoulder, or anything.
Sore back. "Oh." Sleepy. His eyes are closing again. It's the touching. If she wants him to wake up she shouldn't massage him. Rule one. The book is history, Bitra. Exciting stuff, no wonder he couldn't keep consciousness. A little late, but no less warm, and gentle even, he gives her a "hi" back and takes a deep breath in. He can't see her uncertain little smile, but he can hear something, maybe, in her voice. So instead of that breath being the one he takes before he gets the whole waking, standing thing over with, it's the breath he takes before he reaches with his paw to snag her waist and maybe pull her into his lap? Maybe? There's plenty of it. He makes a better looking chair than his chair, anyway.
Oh, lap. Evayne doesn't resist /that/ in the slightest, though she does pull her hand off of his shoulder, the better to snuggle herself in against him right, hook her arm up around his other shoulder and neck. It doesn't take her but a moment to get herself settled against him, to close her own eyes and decide that she's comfy. "Had a long day today," she tells him. "Glad you were here." Yeah, uncertainty is gone, now. Now she's just lazy and pleased and comfortable.
Cozy is good for describing Devan. Hopefully she'll use the meat of his shoulder and not the bone part for relaxing against though, yikes. She hooks her arm, he loops his sort-of under her so she won't slip and with the other he trails fingers up and down her arm, then just loops her in with that one too. Caught. This is better than getting up. Aaand his eyes are definitely closed again, and he's turning his head a little towards the sound of her voice, which puts his chin somewhere near her forehead. Oops, oh well. "Glad 'm here too." Long silence. Is he asleep? No, his hand twitches. "Long day?" So verbose right now.
While she started out as a wound up little ball of tension, Evayne rather swiftly relaxes once both of his arms are around her. Caught is not, apparently, a state that she objects to in the slightest. Not right now, at least. The physical contact goes a long way towards helping her calm herself. "Mmmhmm," she agrees. Yes, it was a long day. No, she seemingly has no need to talk about it. Instead, she sort of pulls her head back away from his chin, tilting just so so that she can press her lips against the underside of his jaw. Her own eyes aren't /entirely/ closed, but they are mostly so. "S'over now, though."
"Mm," he agrees. Over now though. Good. And she's comfortable, apparently, or so the kiss would imply. Hopefully she isn't not-okay with being close with him putting off as much body heat as he does, because really. It's amazing he doesn't sweat more. Or spontaneously combust. Devan doesn't say anything anymore, because there isn't anything to say. He just takes another deep breath in that lifts her, speeds up his heartbeat briefly beneath her, and rubs his hand drowsily along her-- thigh. Oops. Well, he isn't really paying attention, you can't blame him.
Heat, bad? No way. Eva still misses Igen, after all. It's /cold/, here. Even now. There doesn't seem to be any objection to the wandering of his hand; she only exhales a soft little content sort of sigh, letting her lashes drift the rest of the way down and pressing a few more kisses along his jaw. She does open her mouth to say something further, but whatever it is doesn't apparently make the grade, because she does not actually follow through with it, closing her lips on whatever it might have been. Her free hand does lift, fingers reaching to brush along his cheek. All affectionate, right now.
Scruffy jaw. Poor lips. His reaction to her affections is another, though little, sigh that ends in a small little barely perceptible happy noise. Because he has a lap full of pretty girl, he's warm and comfortable, and the pretty girl is kissing him in nice little spots. And she doesn't care that he fell asleep reading a boring book in one of the most public places in the Weyr, like a total doof. Somewhere in his tired brain an impulse emerges like a shape in a smokey haze. It makes him move his arm so that he can shift her legs higher up, scoot himself over and up a little and scoot her over so she's kind of on her back... there. In the end he's twisted himself awkwardly at the waist so he can rest his head on her, somewhere above her stomach and below her neck, that area, with his arms around her still. Poor little Evayne.
While she makes certain to not make any movements of her own while he's moving her around -- save to cooperate, where needed -- Evayne does open her eyes so she can squint at him once he's resettled again. The laugh that escapes is quite and threaded with affection, even as she's reaching to push him up a bit, to start the process of trying to escape from his lap entirely. Wiggle. "C'mon," she tells him. "Devan. You are not going to sleep like that." As adorable as it might be. "Let's go to bed. More room. That /can't/ be comfortable."
Pushing? Nooo. His eyebrows pinch together and he opens his eyes too to lift a narrow, unhappy look up at her chin or something. "Is too." Comfortable. Must be. Still, she does prove a point. He can't sleep like that. They can't. Because suddenly they're in this together. Leave him to his own devices, he'd still be here in the morning. But she's here now, and that means he needs to think about her too. /She/ can't sleep like this. And it's only when his fuzzy brain comes to that conclusion that he pushes up off of her and brings his hands to his face to scrub at it. Scratch. "'M tired," he tells her, sadly.
"Me too," Eva points out, sliding herself off of his lap and up to her feet, neat as can be. But she doesn't go far, no -- she just collects his book with one hand, and one of his hands with the other. Tug, tug. "M'just saying sleep, it's okay. I know I'm asking for plenty, just getting you to move from chair to bed." And more tugging. She's definitely smiling now, all sorts of amused and pleased and affectionate. He really is just the cutest ever.
She has a hand. And his book. And a hand. And it's like she really is that strong, that that's all it takes to get him up, because up Devan goes until he's towering over her like he does. One hand's rubbing the back of his neck while he stretches, argh, and tugging. And okay, he shuffles a few steps towards the dorms, yawning. Once inside he turns some to go to his little sectioned-off alcove (privacy!) and unless she lets go of his hand or something she's coming with him.
Doesn't seem like she's got any intentions of doing anything but following along after him, since she's got his book, and all. Eva does manage to stifle another laugh that threatens, just watching him, but she really just can't get rid of that Cheshire smile she's wearing. Or the -- ack, yawn -- that escapes once his has triggered it. Right on after him into the alcove she goes, not even bothering to glance around and see if somebody might see her.
Neither does he. Glance, that is. Which could mean one of two things. a) he doesn't care if anybody sees or b) he's brought chicks back to his place before. Whatever, she's here now, in his lair, and he's unshielding a glowbasket out of habit just inside so she can see where it is exactly he's taken her. His 'room' is small, obviously, just room enough for the cot and the press and a little table off to one side. Devan leans to reach for the curtain that, when he unhooks it, closes them off from the rest of the sleepers. Also, he kicks off his boots. And does all of that one-handed.
His book is set on the little table, and then for all that he's dealing with things one handed, she tugs her fingers away so she can kneel down and untie her boots. Quick work is made of those knots and Eva is straightening again, shrugging off her jacket and just dropping it to sit on top of her boots. There's a little study of the curtain and the room itself, and then she's scooting to go slide into the cot and make herself comfortable. Pants are staying on, yes they are. Yawn. Her attention is so locked on him now, though. Completely.
Her pants are staying on? Will that mean she'll be uncomfortable when he pulls his sweater up and over his head and tosses it down where she left her jacket and boots? Hopefully not, because that's already done. It's nothing she hasn't seen anyway, right? He'll take a moment, just then, to study his bed. And its new addition. A slow grin curves his mouth, closed at first, then open with all those white teeth and that dimple. He knows this little space like the back of his hand, so he can cover that glow back up and crawl into cot with her no problem. Carefully, though, because he's bigger than she is and there isn't much room, but he stretches out alongside her and hesitates with his arm hovering. Where should he put it?
There is stillness for just a moment when he takes that moment to study his bed, and then he's grinning and so she's flashing up her own smile. As soon as the light is out though, Eva freezes once more -- making sure to not move when he's moving around, so as to not get herself bonked by being somewhere different than she was a moment ago. Once she's pretty sure he's at least mostly settled, she gingerly scoots herself in against him, nestling in all close, lifting herself up to accommodate his arm in case he wants to slide it under her. Closeness, so very, very good.
In the dark he grins again for her accomodation and takes advantage of it by, yeah, sliding his arm under her. All the better for making her closeness that much closer. And he puts his other arm around her too. Eventually his legs tangle up in hers, he ducks his head, and he presses his mouth to her hair. Which makes her pretty much entirely folded up. And silence, only his deep and even breathing and the smell of soap and something just so /him/.
The little sigh that escapes takes with it the last of her tension, all content sounding and followed by a slow yawn as it is. Eva gets herself settled promptly, but actually going to sleep takes longer -- she is at least practiced with staying still so as to not interrupt someone /else's/ sleep while she's still awake. So she nestles close and closes her eyes and enjoys this, losing herself to more pleasant thoughts before she eventually manages to drift off. Comfy.
OOC note: No, we're not going steady. Can't two people spoon anymore without there being eyebrows?