Who

Ione, Doji
Niatskivhiath, Raktraeth

What

At least Ione didn't bring any fire in that crate…

When

It is evening of the twenty-eighth day of the ninth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - North Bowl

OOC Date 12 Apr 2019 05:00

 

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If only there were a panty tree, Ione might be less dedicated to retrieving her collection.


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North Bowl

In the quieter spaces of the Northern Bowl, there is less activity; all is kept serene for young, forming draconic bonds. Beneath the sweep of skies' ever-changing colors, this round little panorama hosts the short distances between the Hatching Cavern and the weyrlings' ultimate destination: the barracks and training grounds. More packed dirt and tiny little hillocks than clean white sand, the floor is an uneven thing, a startling trap for the unwary and the clumsy. Further onward, the Ground Weyrs beckon, a haven for those who may seek medical attention.

It is the twenty-eighth day of Autumn and 89 degrees. For all the fury of the sandstorm, the night is strangely still.


It may be the dwindling hours of the day, but there's a bustle of activity just outside the leadership ledges, as a familiar pale gold burdened with several trunks patiently allows a few people to assist in unloading them. An equally familiar redhead is amidst the moving crew, directing them between continuing professions of gratitude for their hard work. "I've still got another load back at Ista, but I think this is enough for now," she declares as two men carrying a trunk pass her. There's only one left, and Ione makes her way over, loudly promising that she's totally able to handle it on her own, it's not that heavy. It takes only seconds for her to release the trunk from its bindings and send the entire thing toppling to the ground, spilling the contents out everywhere. Apparently, Ione has an impressive number of lacy undergarments which are now littering the floor of north bowl. "Faranth, not again."

The leadership ledges aren't the only weyrs in this particular corner of the Weyr. Normally the most chaotic thing is a runaway weyrling, but the falling trunk and the impressive amount of lacey things spilling out of it certain catches Raktraeth's attention as the behemoth brown veers away and instead of heading to his ledge, lands near to the men and the trunk with a delighted rumble that might as well be a laugh. Doji meanwhile slides down and is much empathetic about the disaster as she winces. "Do you need any help?"

Ione may be wearing a full-length dress, but she doesn't think twice about hiking it up to her knees and getting down in the dust and dirt to begin picking up her lingerie. At least they're in the Weyr proper, and not in the bazaar where such a display might cause utter chaos with the impropriety of it all. "As long as you're not offering the same kind of help I provide for myself," a gesture to the mess in front of her, "I'd appreciate it." Niatskivhiath snorts at one of the more lacy items near her head, sending it spiraling into the air. Interesting.

Utter chaos and possibly a few bystanders purloining some of the garments either for their own benefit or to sell on some sort of underwear black market. Raktraeth will 'help' by flapping his wings which only serves to raise little dust-sand-panty clouds until Doji coughs and surges forward to grab an armful. "I can at least help you get some of it to the laundry. Unless you're taking it back to Ista?" There's a bit of a confused look as she actual catches a closer glimpse of one unbelieveable bright pink garment. The brownrider starts turning nearly as bright a shade as she balls up the panties and grabs a few more pairs.

"Hey wait, those are-" Ione starts to call, but she's not quick enough to stop that particular lingerie-thief. Seeing Niatskivhiath going to huff another pair of panties, the goldrider quickly crawls on hands and knees, lenging forward to retrieve it. Her underthings aren't the only things that are going to need a wash shortly. "That would be wonderful. And no, it can all stay here, actually." She doesn't seem the least bit embarrassed that her undergarments are now fluttering even further across the bowl, quickly reassuring Doji that, "Don't worry, they're all clean!"

« If only I had some firestone… » Raktraeth believes that those panties Niatskivhiath tossed in the air would look much better on fire and is more than happy to share the image with his mother. "Here you uhhh…" Doji starts to hand off the ball of undies she had accumulated but at the last minute switches to stuff them into the open crate before she tries to grab some more. "I would hope they are clean." Because there would be so many more questions if Ione was just crating around an entire crate of dirty laundry. "But it looks like you're making yourself at home?"

Niatskivhiath is not so driven by flame, but the dizzying whorls of dust and fabric echo the storm that forever threatens in her mind. « Some of them look a bit like flames already. » She snorts at a lovely red lingerie set, sending it drifting in Raktraeth's direction. There's always the possibility that Igen's laundry facilities are simply better at washing Ione's delicates, but the goldrider quickly explains, "I am. It's not completely settled yet, but…" Apparently it's settled enough that she feels comfortable carting most of her things back to her former home.

The flame bright bit of silk and lace fluttering in the breeze certainly does keep Raktraeth's attention, enough so that he doesn't seem to inclined to stir up even more than is already in the air. His curious dragon eyes do turn towards the goldrider. « Did she pick them to match her hair? » Doji blinks as Ione confirms that she is indeed making herself mostly at home. "Ooooh. Congratulations, I guess? Or welcome or…" She shrugs and doesn't really know what to say so grabbing another big handful of panties seems less awkward. She'll do that.

« She picks them to match any number of things. » It's Ione's urging that settles the gold's head back down. It's not just that her underthings are spiraling through the air, it's the fact that sooner or later Tiski is going to accidentally breathe in, and then they'll have an entirely different problem. « But yes, I think so. » Ione scrambles for another set which seems determined to escape her, landing with an ungraceful grunt, her fingers curled around the fabric. "Thank you," she responds simply, her answer seemingly in response to all the possibilities. This certainly isn't her most dignified entrance, but it's also not her least dignified entrance, so… that's something. "I'm so glad you came along. I'm not embarrassed, per se, but I'd still rather that strange men weren't handling my panties…"

"Like those two?" Doji will point out the two men that may or may not have dropped the chest to begin with. One of which is trying his best to help clean up things without actually looking at them which is going about as well as one could expect. The other is still mostly frozen although he seems to be ever so slowly slipping backwards as if they might not notice eventually. The brownrider will at least diligently do her best at the panty catching. "I'd be embarrassed." But that's nothing new, considering she'd be embarrassed at just about anything. Raktraeth considers the matching and files that away for later. For the time being, his mental forest might just have an underwear tree growing in the middle of it. « Does she need so many of them? There's only so many days in a seven. »

Ione's nose scrunches up in annoyance when she notices the two other chest-bearers have paused in their quest. "We've got this!" she calls out, whether or not it will have any effect. "I'm only embarrassed that I spilled it all in the first place," she admits with a self-effacing smile. Because this one was entirely on Ione. "But there's nothing wrong with having a healthy appreciation for nice things." Also? This isn't Ione's first rodeo with lacy underthings in the middle of the bowl. Niatskivhiath's bottled stormclouds swirl overhead, threatening little more than a gentle shower to help that underwear tree grow. « I think she is saving to have enough to last the entire turn. »

Nothing like a little water and secondhand embarrassment to make a good underwear tree flourish! Raktraeth will even force a few smaller buds of panties to appear because he totally believes they grow on trees like everything else. « Looks like she might be working on enough to last the entire Pass! » And he sounds absolutely delighted at the idea. Right now, Doji just blinks at the non-embarrassed Ione. "But they're your underthings! And they're everywhere." Less everywhere than a few moments ago since they have been making a little progress in rounding them all up, but still plenty around, especially as the chest bearers take 'we got this' to mean the women don't need any additional help.

If only there were a panty tree, Ione might be less dedicated to retrieving her collection. As it is, the goldrider is looking somewhat bedraggled, with yet another armful of underthings in hand as she moves to dump them in the trunk once more. « Thread might destroy them all. It's best to be prepared. » Just in case that underwear tree is consumed. Ione shrugs, pausing to wipe her brow. Autumn has done little for the heat so far. "Everyone has them, why should it embarrass me? Besides, I have amazing taste." There are certainly things in this collection that one is unlikely to find among Igen's suppliers. "It's certainly not a cheap inconvenience, but it's no different than all my dresses ending up on the ground." At some point, she'll probably have to admit defeat and let a few pieces go, but she's still making an effort to gather what she can.

« We'd never let it. » Raktraeth won't even jest about Thread destruction, even if he might not be the most enthusiastic of fighting dragons. That fictional panty tree will be safe in his care. And he might even convince a firelizard or three to decorate a makeshift one on his ledge. You know, for Doji. "But they're not dresses," Doji is still perplexed even though she'll keep on grabbing and tossing. "Besides, if these were your dresses, it wouldn't take nearly as long to gather them up." Of course it wasn't the bulkier objects that tried to make an escape for it. It had to be the slippery, sneaky panties running away to the wilds of Igen.

« Of course not, » Niatskivhiath reassures, whether for Ione's sake or simply out of duty to the Weyr. Either way, that underwear tree will live on. LUCKY DOJI. "Well no, obviously. The dresses would have been much more convenient, in a sense." Certainly fewer people would have the opportunity to steal a Weyrwoman's things. "But this was much more embarrassing when I was a teenager, dropping my underthings in front of handsome bronzeriders." There's probably a message in there about how far she has come since those days, but Ione is too busy attempting to snatch up a few more of her things to truly contemplate it. Those underthings will keep them busy at least a little while longer, but when everything is said and done, Doji will (at the very least) be getting a drink out of this entire ordeal.
And an underwear tree.

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