01-23-2018, 03:24 PM
“Huh.”
Araya stood in the doorway, arms folded, expression suspended somewhere between amusement and disbelief. He looked Jai from head to toe to head again, took stock of the random flung uniform and the suspicious stench, and sighed. “And you’re naked. Of course you’re naked. Makes perfect sense, right?”
Jai was wobbling, still patting his side like he’d lost something, the back of one heel half hanging over the edge of the cabinet he’d somehow managed to climb. Not quite the scene he’d expected to return to.
Light. One hand snaked back over white-blonde hair, scruffed at it as though trying to order the thoughts in his head, and then he finally entered the room. The door he left half open, so he could hear any noises downstairs; but pushed to enough it did not look like a big shining escape route. “That’s Kandori winterwood you’re padding footprints all over. Antique. Or… old, at least. Think you could sit down, Jai? Use the wall to balance yourself. If you can.”
Technically he supposed it didn’t matter if Jai fell, though obviously the preference was that he didn’t. Billowy twists of Air would soften the landing if he did, albeit discretely; there would be no bonds to keep him up there lest Jai mistake the effort for a prison. Araya hadn’t missed the whipcord defensive instincts that had shot hand to the one-time placement of a sword when he’d first opened the door. And he’d rather deal with a docile drunk than a panicked one.
The thud of his boots muffled as he moved from floorboard to a rather threadbare gold and green rug. Time for some damage control, he supposed. He wasn’t sure what an Aes Sedai’s reaction would be upon discovering she had been called to the aid of one utterly inebriated, utterly naked Asha’man. No, that wasn’t true, he had some idea; what he wasn’t sure on was whether she might refuse to play her part in such a farcical situation – Araya hadn’t, after all, specified for a Yellow; just someone capable of Healing bones. Either way, I’m going to have to warn her before she comes in. It was unfortunate that anyone had to see Jai in this state at all, but – in Araya’s opinion, at least – rather that person be a Sister, than a Brother who might later have cause or desire to use it against him.
“So you remember the part I said about other people living here, right? The women and children kind. Especially the children. So we’re going to have to reconsider this liberalist attitude towards clothes…”
Only, there was no point forcing him back into the black, and Jai was both taller and broader than anything Araya might lend him. So let’s see what we can find. The first set of rickety drawers, belonging to a white-stained Tarein bedroom dresser, contained odds and ends he suspected might have belonged to its previous owner; buttons, bits of ribbon and not much else. The second was more promising. The piles of material had been folded neatly, but had clearly not been touched since; the smell was faintly musty. "Huh, here we go."
He glanced up to check on Jai, then back down to the fabrics; though he kept the Asha'man in his periphery. The top bolt was blue as cloudless sky, and vividly bright. It reminded him of sun-soaked summer, especially with the yellow-gold thread-work thick round the edges. Light, silky; it would make a nice shirt, actually, but he had not bought it for him. It had been for Korene. Same as all the other bits of fabric in here; all of them collected in those early days of guardianship, when he’d been at a bit of a loss as to his role in her life. Well, until Hana had finally let her exasperation over-boil. “I wouldn’t even make curtains with this, Araya. Leave the girl’s dresses to me.”
Light, such a long time ago now.
He pulled the blue one out in a sleek ripple, but let it float to the floor. Beautiful fabric, gorgeous colours, but entirely unsuited to protecting modesty. A rummage later produced something closer to the wool of an Asha’man’s uniform in thickness and feel, if hardly in colour. It was a strikingly rich shade of mauve, no pattern, no embellishment; one of his later attempts at being conservative, he recalled with half a grin. He shook it out, and by its size it might have once found occupation as wealthy man’s blanket. Well, wealthy woman’s, anyway.
“Sorry. No black.”
He held it out to Jai, then decided better of the freedom. He didn’t fancy the chances Jai would understand what it was even for. And it turned out crossing the room elucidated another useful item - a black carved bowl filled with once fragrant bits of dried flowers. Those he tipped into the still open drawer housing the buttons and ribbon, then tucked under his arm while he covered Jai up. If Araya were concerned or embarrassed by another man’s nudity, it did not show. Nor did he stare at the scarring, though it was impossible not to notice. Wounds like that left horror stuffed in a man’s head long after the flesh had healed.
The bowl he placed in Jai’s lap, though nudged it towards his good hand. “Sit forward a bit, and dribble into that.”
Or be sick again, if the need arose, though he didn’t say that. immediate job done, Araya perched on the edge of Jai’s cabinet. Light. He pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed his gurgling horror of a laugh. Oh Light. Hana was going to kill him, she really was.
Edited by Raffe, Jan 23 2018, 03:25 PM.
Araya stood in the doorway, arms folded, expression suspended somewhere between amusement and disbelief. He looked Jai from head to toe to head again, took stock of the random flung uniform and the suspicious stench, and sighed. “And you’re naked. Of course you’re naked. Makes perfect sense, right?”
Jai was wobbling, still patting his side like he’d lost something, the back of one heel half hanging over the edge of the cabinet he’d somehow managed to climb. Not quite the scene he’d expected to return to.
Light. One hand snaked back over white-blonde hair, scruffed at it as though trying to order the thoughts in his head, and then he finally entered the room. The door he left half open, so he could hear any noises downstairs; but pushed to enough it did not look like a big shining escape route. “That’s Kandori winterwood you’re padding footprints all over. Antique. Or… old, at least. Think you could sit down, Jai? Use the wall to balance yourself. If you can.”
Technically he supposed it didn’t matter if Jai fell, though obviously the preference was that he didn’t. Billowy twists of Air would soften the landing if he did, albeit discretely; there would be no bonds to keep him up there lest Jai mistake the effort for a prison. Araya hadn’t missed the whipcord defensive instincts that had shot hand to the one-time placement of a sword when he’d first opened the door. And he’d rather deal with a docile drunk than a panicked one.
The thud of his boots muffled as he moved from floorboard to a rather threadbare gold and green rug. Time for some damage control, he supposed. He wasn’t sure what an Aes Sedai’s reaction would be upon discovering she had been called to the aid of one utterly inebriated, utterly naked Asha’man. No, that wasn’t true, he had some idea; what he wasn’t sure on was whether she might refuse to play her part in such a farcical situation – Araya hadn’t, after all, specified for a Yellow; just someone capable of Healing bones. Either way, I’m going to have to warn her before she comes in. It was unfortunate that anyone had to see Jai in this state at all, but – in Araya’s opinion, at least – rather that person be a Sister, than a Brother who might later have cause or desire to use it against him.
“So you remember the part I said about other people living here, right? The women and children kind. Especially the children. So we’re going to have to reconsider this liberalist attitude towards clothes…”
Only, there was no point forcing him back into the black, and Jai was both taller and broader than anything Araya might lend him. So let’s see what we can find. The first set of rickety drawers, belonging to a white-stained Tarein bedroom dresser, contained odds and ends he suspected might have belonged to its previous owner; buttons, bits of ribbon and not much else. The second was more promising. The piles of material had been folded neatly, but had clearly not been touched since; the smell was faintly musty. "Huh, here we go."
He glanced up to check on Jai, then back down to the fabrics; though he kept the Asha'man in his periphery. The top bolt was blue as cloudless sky, and vividly bright. It reminded him of sun-soaked summer, especially with the yellow-gold thread-work thick round the edges. Light, silky; it would make a nice shirt, actually, but he had not bought it for him. It had been for Korene. Same as all the other bits of fabric in here; all of them collected in those early days of guardianship, when he’d been at a bit of a loss as to his role in her life. Well, until Hana had finally let her exasperation over-boil. “I wouldn’t even make curtains with this, Araya. Leave the girl’s dresses to me.”
Light, such a long time ago now.
He pulled the blue one out in a sleek ripple, but let it float to the floor. Beautiful fabric, gorgeous colours, but entirely unsuited to protecting modesty. A rummage later produced something closer to the wool of an Asha’man’s uniform in thickness and feel, if hardly in colour. It was a strikingly rich shade of mauve, no pattern, no embellishment; one of his later attempts at being conservative, he recalled with half a grin. He shook it out, and by its size it might have once found occupation as wealthy man’s blanket. Well, wealthy woman’s, anyway.
“Sorry. No black.”
He held it out to Jai, then decided better of the freedom. He didn’t fancy the chances Jai would understand what it was even for. And it turned out crossing the room elucidated another useful item - a black carved bowl filled with once fragrant bits of dried flowers. Those he tipped into the still open drawer housing the buttons and ribbon, then tucked under his arm while he covered Jai up. If Araya were concerned or embarrassed by another man’s nudity, it did not show. Nor did he stare at the scarring, though it was impossible not to notice. Wounds like that left horror stuffed in a man’s head long after the flesh had healed.
The bowl he placed in Jai’s lap, though nudged it towards his good hand. “Sit forward a bit, and dribble into that.”
Or be sick again, if the need arose, though he didn’t say that. immediate job done, Araya perched on the edge of Jai’s cabinet. Light. He pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed his gurgling horror of a laugh. Oh Light. Hana was going to kill him, she really was.
Edited by Raffe, Jan 23 2018, 03:25 PM.
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