K'vvan Mayte


Mayte notices there is something wrong with K'vvan's clothing and decides to FIX IT.


4th day of the 7th month of the 2nd turn of the 12th pass.


Central Bazaar

OOC Date


Mayte11.jpg k-vvan_default.jpg


Central Bazaar

All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.

Mayte had a free afternoon, and found out K’vvan did too. Yaaaay! Unfortunately so for K’vvan, because she’s begged him to come to the Bazaar with her under the excuse of, “It’s nice out without sand everywhere, let’s just… go, like old times!” Yeah, that’s it. She’s commandeered a small, dark corner to stand in while watching the way the crowd moves, all tucked in around herself like a napping firelizard. Just snoozing in the shade, waiting for K’vvan to show…

K'vvan is late and more than a little grumpy about it. Early morning PT followed by a Zeyta led drill…. it was not an excellent morning by any stretch of the imagination. He is a bit sore and tired now, and only his promise to meet Mayte gets him out of self imposed exile in his weyr. Grumpy is on high as he makes his way through the crowds, doing his best not to brush against anyone. (Because he is annoyed and thus the no touch is on high.) A few glances around do not reveal the dark haired gold rider. "MAYTE." It is not quite a yell?

Mayte does hear K’vvan on his first yell, her chin rising out from its chest-rest like a glow-cover shifting. Except she’s behind him so the goldrider takes a good, loooooonnnnnnnng moment to watch the greenrider’s figure from behind. Well hello. (the author is tempted to insert cheeky and entirely unnecessary smiley face here) It takes her another moment to come out of her study and move out into the sunlight, calling, “K’vv. I’m right here.” She’s moving up closer to him, smiling a little while eyeing him up and down a little more.

K'vvan turns on his heel when he hears Mayte’s voice calling back, only just managing to get the scowl off his face. After all, he isn’t upset with her, just the sadists who have decided that hard work is a virtue that should be aspired to. Not that he will EVER say ANYTHING. Maybe some of his angst is due to the fact that he does not feel completely easy within the bazaar any more, what with being out of practice with large groups these days. “Alright. Where are we to?” An attempt at not grumpy is being given. See how he even tries to SMILE?

Mayte saw nothing but not-quite-smiles as she makes her way over to K'vvan. A moment to look around and hmm. "It's changed a little since I impressed," she mulls, though she doesn't look terribly out of place. Turning to grin up at the greenrider, Mayte bites her lip as her eye falls to his shirt. A pause to collect words and she asks him, "Ahhh, how would you feel about some shirts?" And this is when Mayte tries for 'cute'.

K’vvan reaches up to scratch at his scruff, his eyes moving around the bazaar. “Looks about the same to me. More,” and his hand leaves his chin to wave at the colorful awnings that line the straw tops from the Igen sun. Her comment has him glancing down on the worn, but well cared for shirt. It fits more snugly than it ought to, but since Nadeeth hasn’t said anything K’vvan hasn’t either. “What is wrong with my shirt?”

Mayte’s eyes track K’vvan’s hand as he scratches, grinning slightly. She totally misses the comment about the bazaar, even if she hmms agreeably. K’vvan’s question has her looking around them a little and biting her lip to think of a way to say this. Finally, “Um… It’s a bit…” One hand reaches to gently pluck at the one fold of fabric left, at K’vvan’s elbow: “It’s looking like it’s shrunk. In the Laundry.” Darn that Laundry room again, right? Mayte may or may not have something to do with this. “Or you’re putting on,” blush, “muscle. So… Maybe we could get you a couple of new ones?”

K’vvan’s eyes cut downwards to his shirt again, and shrugging his shoulders. “It h… did you shrink my shirt?” It’s probably a dead ringer that K’vvan hasn’t looked in a mirror recently, because he doesn’t even realize how much weight he has put on recently- all in the right areas, across chest, hips and arms. “I usually just go to the stores…” So, not a NO. Especially not when she blushes.

Mayte’s grin is suspiciously suppressed but only for a moment; laughter burbles forth, “No! I didn’t shrink anything!” That one hand pats K’vvan’s bicep gently, “Uh… It’s all you.” That K’vvan just goes to the stores? No big surprise to this one but she shakes her head, “That’s… I think the Stores just aren’t cutting it anymore.” Okay, and Mayte wants to fit K’vvan in some nice things that are all his own. “We could go see what a couple of different shops have, if you like?” For a moment, Mayte’s hand brushes gently against his, a teasing little finger curling around his opposite before the young woman, still blushing and grinning, lets her hand drop.

“Me?” More of a glance downwards as if K’vvan is actually realizing the change in his physical body. “Huh.” When her finger curls around his a half-smile finally does break onto his lips before he has to consider her request… and Nadeeth’s sudden interest. Cloth, pretty cloth? Can it be pink please? A slight roll of his eyes before he’s sighing. “Fine. Where?”

“Well, there’s a men’s shop just over that way,” and Mayte points to a little sign that strangely resembles W’rin in musculature and hosiery. “I heard it’s got some good quality things.” and even before K’vvan can change his mind, Mayte’s leading the way slowly, so there’s no chance of K’vvan getting dragged the opposite direction. She doesn’t even pause on her way in, just pushes the door casually open like she’s been here before, but holds it open for K’vvan to walk through as well, into a store where it’s all men’s clothing - suit jackets and formal wear or more casual shirts and pants or hose. Sorry Nadeeth, there’s little pink here… but definitely some salmon coloured shirts…

Isn’t the guy suppose to hold open the door? Alas, K’vvan goes reluctantly into that shop on Mayte’s heels and makes a half-hearted attempt to look at shirts and tights. A nice black coloured pair of tights does catch his eye and he fingers it. “I like black.” It probably isn’t such a good color for living in the desert through.

Of course he’d look at tights. Mayte stifles a sigh and shakes her head: “No. Black is a bad colour if you’re flying all the time.” PAY NO ATTENTION TO HER PANTS. “You want something at least a little lighter.” She’s followed him over to that rack: “And, how about… some trousers?” Yes, she’s really trying this: “They’d frame your… you, without giving everything away?” Either that look on Mayte’s face means she’s going to explode with laughter or, she’s holding in a really big smell. It’s the former, thankfully because only a small giggle escapes.

Is it okay that K’vvan’s eyes flick downwards to Mayte’s pants? Because they do. But he’s not about to say something like if you’re allowed to wear it I am… That would be weird. “W’rin wears tights.” Heaven forbid that K’vvan takes dressing advice from W’rin. But like a good little shopper he looks at the trousers with a bit of a suspicious eye. “And tights don’t give everything away. It’s not like…” and now he’s shutting up with red touching his cheeks. “I thought we were looking at shirts?” Moving AWAY from the topic of pants?

Okay, Mayte’s HEARD about the Codpiece of Authority, okay? That earns a Look, but she doesn’t sway her hips when walking towards an emerald shirt that’s studded with black buttons, “This is a shirt. Looks nice…” She turns to look over her shoulder at K’vvan with a grin, “It’d go with your eyes too.” She even lifts the hangar off the line to show it to him.

K’vvan manages to flush a bit more at that Look, reading a whole lot of W’rin-pant-fall-out in it. When she switches to a less offensive piece of clothing he more than ready to consider her choice. “Right um. It’s green.” He reaches out to touch it, the green fashionista in the back of his head reminding him that while color is important, it’s the feel of the fabric which is moreso. “Isn’t it a bit heavy for this time of year? And…” he reaches forward to tug at the wooden button. It doesn’t come off, but it’s clear K’vvan expects it to. “I mean, I could sew it back on but…” what a bother.

“It’s a nice green,” Mayte insists with a grin, “One of those emerald or jade colours.” The shop owner is over in the corner, dying of embarrassment. “D’you think Nadeeth’d like it? And it’s maybe a little heavy for now, but come winter, you’d love the warmth.” Still, Mayte’s hanging the shirt back up and moves over to where some lighter shirts hang: “Or this blue, with your eyes. Or this checkered one.” Mayte’s flipping through shirts; it’s more fun to shop for someone else, “Or what about this dark purple?” Of them all, that short-sleeved puce shirt is the one she pulls out to hand to K’vvan, even if her grin is just a hint mischievous.

“Now I know you’re bulls*tting me.” Some of K’vvan’s grumpiness is wearing off though, in light of her good humor and enjoyment of this. A hint of a smile touches the edge of his lips. He takes that shirt looks at it front and back, then tosses it onto a table (take that stall owner- if he isn’t going to be a jerk to Mayte, it might as well be to the random unknown in the room.) “Solid colours. Dark. Simple. If you won’t go for black or gray, how about white?”

A roll of eyes is Mayte’s answer to K’vvan’s accusation and a hmph as the shirt is tossed aside. Arms are crossed and she gives K’vvan a stubborn look: “One shirt with a pattern. Not even a big bold one - something subtle. And then… Yes, white would look good on you too. But one pattern.” Hey, if Mayte had to try on dresses, K’vvan can try on a few shirts. Bonus points if she can squeeze into the stall and watch. Ahem. There is no reason why Mayte’s ears are turning pink. “You could totally keep white clean.”

K’vvan EYES Mayte. “Of course I can keep white clean.” There’s an unspoken HRUMPH in his tone. Has she seen how spotless he keeps his weyr? He looks a bit wistfully at the nice black shirt that looks like it will never be his. “Fine. But it needs to be subtle. No plaid. Or checkered.”

“I know you can,” Mayte says, turning to study another set of shirts, her fingers seeking to test the fabric of them herself. “I trust you with a white shirt more than I’d trust even me.” So hah. Wait, “Not even checkered?” Mayte pouts a brief moment but finds one, black with red and orange flames licking up from the hem. The look on her face would be priceless, especially the horror: “No.” Admittedly, it’s about as subtle as a shiny gold dragon, but Mayte moves to another one, grey with sky blue threads crisscrossing over it: “How about this? Grey, but it’s nice…”

K’vvan had turned away from Mayte, looking through his own pile of clothes thankfully, and missed her garish contemplation. That might have been the end of this shopping trip altogether. When she holds one up he glances and leaves off his own pile to go touch it. “I guess this one isn’t too bad. It looks too big… though I guess that’s what the weavers are for, to make it fit.” Hand reaches out and fingers twitch, give over.

Isn’t too bad? Mayte huffs and pulls it off the rack to hold up against K’vvan. A moment later, she hummms. “Too big, yeah, but it would look amazing on you.” A finger curl to the shop owner and Mayte hands it to him: “Couldja put this somewhere out of the way, in case he wants to try it, or so no one else can take it?” The shirt is taken and tucked out of the way, and Mayte turns back to the shirts, fingers gliding along a few shirts and racks as she peruses. “You like black, white, and grey, so… what does Nadeeth like?” She could totally just ask the green through her own dragon, but that’s a little rude. “Seen a white shirt you like yet?”

“I feel like a doll.” It’s a mutter that is very much under K’vvan’s breath. But he’s not hitting anything OR stomping away, so Mayte can just feel free to keep going on the whole shopping for him thing. But then she asks the MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION. Knowing her lifemate, Nadeeth doesn’t keep her voice only for him, but stretches out a thin ribbon to Rhiscorath as she gives her opinion in a flurry of colours and textured sensations. Greens are vividly displayed, as well as dark blues and purples. Hints of bronze trail through, but just HINTS. The fabric itself is soft, flexible without a hint of roughness. Only the BEST for her rider. Leather highlights twine themselves in- wouldn’t belts just look SO NICE over LONG shirts?

And this is when Rhiscorath does what she does best. What Mayte gets from her dragon is an organized, systematic list of colours, textures, and weights; she’s left blinking a little as she mentally flips through this sample book of fabrics: “Oookay.” Nadeeth can look through it too. And just in case K’vvan was wondering, “Nadeeth says more green, huh. And dark blue - maybe that’s close enough to black that you’d like it too?” The shop owner’s already pulling off long sleeve and short sleeve shirts when Mayte mentions those colours, leaving them descreetly on a table behind the pair so Mayte turns and ohs in delight: “Oh, look at this blue with silver threading?” It’s kind of a question, but partly.

K’vvan grumbles slightly, “Green is bad luck…. green Shirts. Not green dragons.” Just in case Nadeeth needed clarification. She’s too absorbed with her new best friend of the moment pouring over fabric scraps. That one, with the orange stripes on yellow. (Hey, no one said her taste was GOOD.) “Fine, give it over and I’ll try it on.” LONG SUFFERING K’VVAN OVER HERE. “…. how many shirts do you think I need?” He needs to ask this, as his current wardrobe has a sevens day + 1, and a nice outfit… which Mayte is probably aware of, since they are all he ever wears. Three pairs of pants, a few assorted tights, and a few belts. It’s fairly spartan.

See, that’s where Mayte steps in. She hands that shirt over to K’vvan, and then a few more to be on the safe side. His question has the young junior blinking, a little deer-in-the-headlights that she tries to smile away. “Um… A few? To replace the ones that are getting worn out?” Mayte’s really trying to look a bit innocent because that’s pretty much all of them, right? “Just, try those on and let’s see how they look.” She’s practically pushing him gently towards the change room and following while pausing to look at pants.

“They’re usable till they have holes.” Here K’vvan’s blunt opinion on ‘usable’. He’s going to ignore the fact that they just don’t sit right any more. But she’s shoving him and so reluctantly he moves into that curtained area and closes the curtain. Silence comes from within when the taking off of clothes and putting back on should be happening. After a few beats… “Don’t let anyone open the curtain.” This much too much like getting undressed in a WAY TOO PUBLIC PLACE. It would be different if they were swimming. Or something. His fully clothed legs and boots peek out from where the cloth doesn’t cover.

The long look Mayte gives K'vvan after that little assertion should worry him. Or his wardrobe. At the cloth door to the changeroom, Mayte's snort is audible but just in case, she feels compelled to add, "Yeah, like I'm gonna let that happen." Unlikely. She gives the poor dress-up doll a few minutes of quiet before the questions start: "How are they fitting? do you like any of them yet? D'you think you'd like this bronze one?" Mayte's looking very hard the other way as her hand sticks in wih said metallic shirt, the edges trimmed in gold thread.

Hopefully K’vvan doesn’t come home one of these days and finds that all of his clothing has been replaced. He would be so sad. “Good…. Bronze?” An unspoken REALLY? “ Nadeeth says that clashes.” beat, “With her.” because matching Nadeeth is really important. “Isn’t gold more your color?” Since she hasn’t started pressing pants on him yet K’vvan pulls on that dark blue shirt, and opens the curtain for Mayte to see. Arms open slightly, what does she think?

Change is hard, sometimes. “Depends on how bronzey,” Mayte says absently but retracts it anyway. K’vvan might hear some quiet shuffling of things, some soft discussion between Mayte and shop owner, but as he emerges, she half turns and pauses. Eyes wander up, down, and across K’vvan’s chest. It takes a moment before she swallows and nods: “Yes. Definitely.” She’s caught a little red-handed, though: there’s a pair of black pants in Mayte’s hand.

Her examination brings a bit of an awkward smile to K’vvan’s face before he narrows in on those pants. “Those look way too small for me. Are they for you?” His attempt at copying her false-sweetness when-she-is-making-a-point-without-actually-saying-it doesn’t work as well. Something about having a lower pitched voice and lacking the tilted head. It comes out as more of a ‘really?’ Back behind the scene he disappears, to take off the shirt and put on another.

“Huh?” Mayte blinks a couple of times at K’vvan’s chest, and then up to his face. “Oh. Yes. No, those shirts fit right where they’re supposed to.” Holding the pants against her own waist, it’s clear they’re way too long and a bit too wide in the waist: “They’ll frame your… um. You. They’ll frame you well.” She doesn’t hand those over, though, instead reaching for the grey shirt: “This now.” Mayte did not just check to make sure she’s not drooling. At least, the shop owner hopes not: she did it with the pants-hand.

K’vvan has a sneaking suspicion when those pants do not appear, that she’s going to purchase them without him trying them on. Which is good, because changing behind a thin piece of fabric with the WORLD outside to see is not his cup-o-tea. The gray shirt is drawn behind and again he’s changing with the blue being flung without warning over the top. Hopefully she catches it?

“K’vvan!” Mayte yelps - if he should peek his head out, he will see Mayte sporting the blue shirt on her head, like a blanket. Hmph. She takes it off and mock-scowls in his direction but adds it to the pile of pants hanging over one arm. These are not the pants you’re looking for. Once K’vvan’s retreated, Mayte whispers something to the shop owner and suddenly she’s free of extra clothes. This leaves her free to go hunt down more clothes - a dark red vest, a shirt of such a light blue that it’s nearly white, and a pair of dark oak wading pants, cut off at the calf.

When K’vvan comes out he is back in his normal shirt, with the grey one slung over his arm. Rejection comes in a single word, “No.” Look at that shirt get tossed… and abruptly picked back up and set to rights. Sorry Nadeeth. “How mu… no.” A finger abruptly gets pointed at that vest. “There is no sharding way I’m putting that on unless you physically force it over my head.” Which… Mayte might do.

She looks over when K’vvan emerges and pouts at his rejection of the shirt, “But it’s grey!” The unspoken message is ‘you like grey!’ But still, whatevs. The vest is held up on a finger, “Hmmm… really?” That’s a bit of a wicked glint in Mayte’s eye, as if she’s considering it, but hands it back to the shop owner. “Alright. I think we’re done,” Mayte says brightly, moving over to where the owner takes the hint and starts wrapping things up. Shirts, pants, wading pants, all get neatly folded into a pile that’s probably larger than K’vvan was expecting.

“You’re not… but…” He trails of a bit sadly as he looks at the piles of clothing, wondering if his entire wardrobe is going to be redone in one fell swoop. Mayte seems happy about this though, so he zipps his lips and just lets her do it. Abruptly, “If I have to try on new clothes, you do too. Come on. We will be back.” The last is said to the shop keeper as K’vvan reaches out for Mayte’s hand and drags her out and towards another shop. This one is undeniably a woman’s shop and K’vvan seems to know exactly what he is looking for. A red dress, conservatively cut on top but a LITTLE SHORT is plucked off a shelf. “You,” dress is shoved at Mayte, “There,” a point to the curtained room.

“We can come back! He’s not going out of business any time soon,” Mayte says confidently, fiddling with a dark woolen sweater with an Aran stitch when she thinks K’vvan isn’t looking. But getting dragged to another store was not in her mind, so she stumbles a little after him, trying to keep up, “Wait, but this is…” Oh great, now she’s in there. The red dress that K’vvan pulls off the shelf has the junior gaping for a moment, “But…” Lips purse together but Mayte’s eyes agree a little: “Oh, fine.” Challenge accepted, dress taken, changeroom shut, shuffle shuffle of clothes. “K’vv, I can barely get this over my head!” comes out from the room, but eventually Mayte pulls the curtain back, still trying to tug the dress down. “It’s really short,” she complains, but let us viewers be honest: it’s curving over her in all the right places.

K’vvan’s turn to stare a bit as a grin starts to tug on his lips. He’s never been one to go for short dresses on women, preferring them to keep their legs COVERED in the proper NOW TIME style, but on Mayte… well. Rather than avert his eyes he decides that if SHE gets to torture HIM, he can do the same. A little. Thus he steps forward and walks around her, inspecting every angle. “Well. It looks good. You should keep it. For the next… T-tourney or something.”

Okay, the length of time that K’vvan spends eyeing that dress on her has Mayte fidgeting a little, still trying to tug the hem down with one hand while making sure that it’s not about to fall apart on her. She does stand obediently still for the 360, but eyes pop at the greenrider’s suggestion, “At the T-Tourney? Are you kidding me?” Mayte’s attempts to lengthen the hem increase, “No. No, this would be for, like, going out dancing with someone, or a date night alone.” That could be a hint. She pauses and looks up, hands on her hips, “Where can you imagine me going in this?”

“Hum.” K’vvan ponders her question as he looks her over again. “Maybe not here in the bazaar proper. But there is a tiny little food place I’ve heard of… so maybe there. Or to a gather you want to scandalize some holder in so they don’t come back again.” See why K’vvan isn’t allowed near diplomatic events? He’d ruin everything. “Maybe… well, dancing I guess. I’m not all that good, but I know the steps. We could… go visit a Harper Hall gather one day?” Upraised eyebrow, yes, that is an invitation.

No spit, not in the Bazaar proper, sayeth Mayte’s raised eyebrow but she likes his next idea: “A little food place?” She’s listening. “Oooh, a Harper gather’d be fun…” A shy grin, and Mayte’s hands fall so they can clasp behind her back. That grin turns a little wicked, and she stands on tip-toe to whisper, “And when we get back, I’d wear this just for you.” but the moment Mayte’s heels are back on solid ground, she’s back to that shy grin before she twirls: “You really like this?” Okay, colour Mayte a little surprised.

K’vvan chokes at her whispered reply, glancing over at the shop keeper. What’re you lookin’ at? Back to Mayte. “I really do. I mean, yeah… it’s short but. It looks good.” There’s warmth in his voice, as the sincerity of the words bleeds through. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He jerks his head towards the weyr proper. “Just… play a game or something. Lunch.”

Mayte’s shy grin grows as she nods. “Yeah. Um, that sounds good.” She ducks back into the change room and soon emerges in her regular clothes, the dress over one arm. It’s not going elsewhere, though: she hands it back to the shopkeeper with a reluctant sigh, but turning around, she smiles happily and offers K’vvan her hand: “Let’s go get some lunch. And a game. That little kebab place, maybe?”

K’vvan had turned away, his mind traveling off while she had changed. To the shopkeeper, “Hold that? I’ll be back to get it.” Mayte’s not getting out of buying the dress. Because K’vvan’s going to do it FOR HER. Her outstretched hand is taken, long fingers curling around Mayte’s as he leads her out of the shop itself and to lunch and back to the weyr. Sooner or later they’re going to have to do WORK again, but for right now it’s just time spent together. (that doesn’t include angst, or K’vvan doing something stupid.)

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