Wednesday, November 4, 2009

RP: I Like Turtles Pt. 4

There wasn't much response from the Farstrider, just a groan; he'd actually hit his head pretty hard on the stone floor. Mister Gramms, meanwhile, was contentedly chewing on whatever was in his food bowl across the room. Ysani slipped her hand under Firael's head and murmured something quiet under her breath. A bit of warm light lit the back of his skull for a moment, then faded away.

Firael's eyes rolled back into their proper place and opened slowly. Just over him was a worried looking Ysani and -- oh dear, an open necked shirt. He didn't quite have another faint in him at this point. "Y... Ysani..." he rolled his head to look to the side, the color in his cheeks returning very quickly.

"Light, are you okay? I don't think you cracked your skull or anything but all the same it sounded like it hurt." Ysani peeled up one of his eyelids with her thumb, checking his pupils. She was vaguely aware of the faintly greasy feel of his hair against her hand. He smelled like an engine block close up.

Firael in the meanwhile was busy trying to look anywhere but at her. Not only was she over top of him, but her shirt was hanging open, and he wasn't sure how long he'd been out but -- Yep, she still had no skirt on. "Ysani... your... you're..." He was looking off to the side, very deliberately not at her.

"Umm." Ysani looked down at herself, red-cheeked and assessing her current state of undress as she sat on her heels on the cold concrete floor. "I don't suppose you have a spare pair of pants, or a towel, or... well, anything that I might be able to cover up with would be great, really."

Firael thought about this, his head turned the other way. He had lots of oil rags, a couple of spare changes of his own clothes, which were probably a size too big for her. "W-well..." he was having trouble finding his words, speaking quiet and mumbled was much easier for him. "There-might-be-some-in-my-bags-or... towelinthebathroom."

"Okay. You stay there, I don't want you to hurt anything else." Ysani stood and went to the loft's tiny bathroom in search of a towel. There were three dirty ones piled on the floor. A slightly damp one hung from a hook on the back of the door. "Umm." She looked at it, then at the bag on the floor next to his bed, then back again. She decided to try the bag before going for Wet Towel, and crouched down to paw through the contents. Mostly odd bits of engineering equipment with a few wadded-up articles of clothing, it was a short search. She tugged out two pairs of pants and stood, holding them out and looking them over. One was in desperate need of a wash; the other was speckled with shop grease but looked serviceable. She tugged them on and held them up at the waist with her hands. "Do you have a belt?"

Firael had managed to sit up, but was as of yet unable to look at her directly. Mister Gramms on the other hand raised his head from his food bowl, looking at Ysani, almost seeming to be grinning at her. "Just... just the one I'm wearing. I've got some motor belts, b-but I don't think those would work."

"I'll uh, use some wire. There's plenty of it lying around anyway." She managed to produce a cheerful smile and darted for the nearest work table, plucking a length of scrap wire from it to thread between two of the belt loops and cinch them tight. Then she twisted the wire, wrapped up the loose ends and pulled the hem of her shirt down over the waistband. The pants were definitely scruffy, and baggy, but it was a lot easier to look directly at Firael with her cherry-printed pink panties covered up. "Okay! That's that then, I guess." She returned to his side and offered her hand. "Think you can sit up?"

He gazed up, blinked, and found himself still unable to look at her directly, instead extending his hand to let her help him. It was then he caught sight of the pants and the wire belt, but what was most funny about them was how baggy they were. He tried to stifle a laugh as he stood up. "I-I'm sorry," he brushed himself off, giving him something to look at that wasn't her. "M-Mister Gramms is usually a very well behaved workshop assistant. I... I don't know what got into him."

On one wall of the loft was a large window with a view out over Eversong woods. The sun was setting on the side of the workshop and the darkening woods beyond the window had a projected, softening glow to them. "Oh wow," Ysani breathed. She crept up to the window and watched the sunset turn the horizon into a blazing pink and orange fire, backlighting the trees and making them seem downright unreal. "It's so pretty."

Firael wasn't quite sure what she was referring to at first, "Oh, that, th-the sun, it gets in my eyes when I'm working in the evenings a lot."

Ysani peeled her eyes away from the view and looked at him, again, to make sure he wasn't teasing her. He wasn't. "Um. It's getting late, I should probably head back. I need to ask Kat if she can fix my skirt..."

"Oh uh yeah... would you... would you like... uh..." he looked at her awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "You can drop the pants off whenever. G-goodnight."

She smiled at him and hitched up her (his?) pants slightly. "Thanks for showing me your place, it's pretty great. I'll have to drop by again soon. I can bring my projects over to show you!"

"I-I'd like that!"

Then, with a single suspicious glance at Mister Gramms, Ysani was gone.


This was really fun to write up. They're a couple of adorable nerds and I heart them.

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