locked to house #4

[insurgent]

Who: Abelas, (getoutofmytemple), Jyn Erso (insurgent), Rhys (rhygret), and Zevran (agradecido); probably guest starring others at some point!
What: Catch-all for space fantasy dreamhouse shenanigans
When: ca. The Descent Pt.3
Where: House #4
Warning(s): nudity but not in a sexy way.......


[ In the story so far, one of the bedrooms has been claimed by Jyn and Abelas, while the other hosts Rhys and Zevran.

Now let's skip to the part where Rhys gets locked out for hogging the loo. ]

Comments

[getoutofmytemple]

[You know, it takes a special individual to wear down the patience of an immortal. Particularly an immortal who was very used to centuries worth of downtime.

This human somehow miraculously managed to wear it down to a thread. A very strained thread. It had been ages since that human had gone into the bathroom, and he was holding up everyone else. Eventually Abelas hit a breaking point and with a flash of silver from his eyes the door to the bathroom unlocked and flung upon.

He stalked in, grabbed this "Rhys" shemlen by the neck-regardless of what sage of bathing he was in, and threw him out of the room without a word. He then turned on his heel and with a wave of his hand the door slammed behind him and there was a brief green glow.

That door was not opening until he was finished. He'll be out eventually, in the meantime, let's hope Rhys managed to grab pants or a towel on his way out.]

[rhygret]

[ Look it takes a lot of work to look as good as Rhys tries to alright? There's a hot shower, obviously, but then when that's done comes a soak with essential oils, a moisturizer, conditioner, hair treatments and gels and all manner of styling to make sure not a single hair is out of place.

Then come the nails, his brow; shaving, tweezing. Rhys goes the full nine yards when it comes to looking Confident and Rich.

...He doesn't have most of those things here right now, obviously, so the plan was to make do with an extraordinarily-long shower and an even longer attempt to style his hair while dressed in nothing at all. No boxers, no briefs. No boxer-briefs. When Rhys goes stylin' and profilin' he does it au naturale please and thank-you.

That said, things do not go according to this plan at all. Before he knows it Rhys is sprawled out on his back across the living space floor, sputtering and just. totally nude wow ]

H, hey--!

[insurgent]

[ As ever, if Rhys hogs the bathroom, Jyn commands the sofa, feet on the coffee table. When she first hears Abelas shift, she pauses tinkering with her phone. Hard not to, when she recalls the way he sent her things (*space junk) flying with magic or the force or something. Now she knows to maintain vigilance. Her features remain still, entirely neutral, like he might not notice her. Maybe if she doesn't move. Abelas stalks past her and, suddenly, someone falls right into her field of vision.

Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline as she processes the scene.

That's definitely Rhys. Massive tattoo and stupid nipple window and — she drops her phone, rapidly covering her face (and flush) with her hands. Don't mind if she yells, boys. ]

What kind of laserbrained — [ idiot doesn't wear underwear in shared housing? Rhys. Of course it's Rhys. No need to finish that thought. ]

[rhygret]

Gahaaaa, hahaha--! Hiiii, you're here!

[ Jyn is here oh my god why is Jyn here, Rhys has never sat up and held his hands over himself so fast before. Can he just crawl into a hole and die now? All his clothes are in the bathroom and Abelas locked him out. ]

I was just--! I was almost done, a-and he threw me out! This wasn't intentional!

[insurgent]

[ he's talking and oh, stars, she's looking again. stop stop sTOP ]

I live here.

[ but she wishes that she didn't... deep breaths. ]

Stop, Rhys, just — I don't want to know what you were doing in there.

[ DON'T WANK IN THE COMMUNAL BATHROOM. ]

[rhygret]

Wh--I was showering, what do you think I was--??

[ No wait don't answer that??? ]

Just, just keep your eyes closed! Abelas! My clothes are in there, open up!

[getoutofmytemple]

[Silence.]

[Not that he didn't hear you.]

[He just doesn't care.]

[insurgent]

[ Just going to groan into her hands. She knows better than to tell Abelas what to do. ]

There's one of the traditional robes on my bed. Go borrow it.

[ It's Jyn-sized, so it will definitely be comically small, if it fits at all. ]

[rhygret]

[ Which is just Not Acceptable??? Rhys is a stylish and happening business tycoon, not a misfit Raggedy Andy and he wants his clothes. Which means he's sitting there still, stubbornly, until it looks like Jyn at least has her eyes covered. ]

No--this'll just take one second. Keep your eyes closed--Abelas! Open up! I know you can hear me in there...!

[agradecido]

[What would be the absolute worst time for someone to walk through the door? If you said, "When you're comically sitting naked in the apartment because someone locked you out of the bathroom where all of the clothes you own are?" you would be at least in the upper teens on that list.

So guess who comes in. It's that one guy, the cute one Rhys was giggling at earlier. This can only end well!]

I--

[And he pauses, takes the whole scene in, closes the door and decides to take full advantage of the comedic opportunity presented him.

At least he closes the door.]

Are we having one of those parties already? You could have at least waited for me.

[Is he fucking with you? You'll never know.]

[insurgent]

[ "Abelas doesn't do anything that he doesn't want to do" sits on the tip of her tongue, stopped by Zevran's dramatic entrance. At his words, she flushes again, eyes blown wide, meaning she's more flustered than she's been for most of her twenty-something years. She shouldn't even be embarrassed, not when Rhys is the naked one, but Zevran catches her off guard. And Jyn doesn't know him well enough to read him. ]

No. [ once more, with feeling: ] No. I have nothing to do with this.

[ and she shouts: ] Abelas, please!

[ mayday sos come back. the elf guy is your problem and he's Misbehaving. ]

for sansa.

[insurgent]

[ jyn has warned her housemates of the potential for visitors. the only specific warning of this particular visitor is one for rhys, a singular text that she won't follow up on: princess incoming. wear clothes if home :).

despite all her huffing and feigned disinterest, she opens her heart and the doors of her makeshift home to others. maybe that's stupid. no, it's definitely stupid. she does it anyway. as promised, she meets sansa halfway between their respective lodgings, approaching in a jog without looking the least bit winded. nothing about her is particularly remarkable. the dark colours of her clothing and haphazard mess of her hair give her a slightly earthy appearance (dirty, on bad days, but today is a fine one). she lifts a hand, almost a wave, and offers a hesitant smile. she was meant to be reassuring, wasn't she? ]

Sansa?

[ she doesn't look particularly like jon, though jyn supposes they share a style of dress. a bit like theon, really. ]

[unprays]

[ she is likely easy to recognize, if only for the black dress that she wears, heavy furs wrapping around her neck and shoulders — the only thing that she shares with Jon, appearance-wise. he has the Stark features, and she looks more alike Robb, their hair their mother's hair, her eyes her mother's eyes. her hair falls in a cascade down her back, and even the way she walks is the way a highborn girl walks: her hands clasped at the front of her dress, her steps measured.

when the woman jogs up to her, giving her half a wave, she thinks of Arya, then thinks yes, I see why Jon would like her.

she smiles. ]

Yes. And you are Asta. [ she glances back the way she came from, and when she turns back, her smile carries an edge of amusement. ] It seems we find each other yet unharmed by the perils of this journey.

[insurgent]

[ could be a princess, she thinks, at least based on looks alone. Jyn recalls the way princess Leia appeared on the holos, the people's champion, all white dresses and always wearing a fancy updo. she remembers the elaborate styling and gowns the Empress of Inusagi wore, too, before Saw's people dyed her red — no, best not to dwell on that.

Sansa doesn't have the attitude of royalty, in her opinion, not that Jyn's ever met a royal in person. she offers a slight smile. ]

You should see the men I ran into on the way.

[ you should see the other guy, etc. there were none, but if there had been, odds are they would look pretty rough. Jyn falls into step with Sansa and eyes her furs. yes, just like Jon's. ]

Are you from somewhere cold?

[unprays]

I wish I could, [ she responds with a wry smile — of course, she knows there are no men for her to see, but the thought is enough to warrant appreciation. she has seen too many women be walked over by men, pushed aside, treated badly. no more.

the question is not a surprising one, given how the temperature down in Olympia is warmer than Winterfell had ever been, if not quite as warm as King's Landing. ]

Yes. Winterfell was the name of my home... it was the northest you could go, before reaching the Wall and the icy lands beyond it. [ she pauses, looks down with a soft smile. ] It was nearly winter. For Jon, it was winter already. We are both used to the cold.

[For some weirdo with an Elf fetish]

[getoutofmytemple]

[Rare was it for Abelas to spend time in the assigned residence other than sleep required it, but for reasons only known to Abelas he returns unusually early. Of course he did proceed to ignore everyone for the most part, as usual.

He took a seat off to the side, with a glass of wine, and lit a candle with an odd green flame that gave off no heat. He had some parchment and a pen and seemed to be writing something with what looked like shimmering green ink. Of course it was in ancient Elvish though, so supposedly no one would be able to read it, at least not until he was finished.

Then there was a familiar voice behind him and he had to take a moment to close his eyes and sigh. He had enjoyed the very brief moment of peace and quiet while it had lasted.]

What is it you want of me, Shemlen?

[rhygret]

Ohhh my god how many times do I have to tell you? I have a name. You can use it you know.

[ That is Rhys's greeting to his sunny-dispositioned housemate as he steps into the room, closing the front door behind him with a slight leer. It's been a long day for him at work Mr. Grumpyface, a "Hi Rhys how was your day!" would be great!! ]

I don't go around calling you "elf."

[getoutofmytemple]

I will cease calling you "shemlen" when it no longer suits you.

[Seemed a pretty fitting adjective for the time being. He was not above amending things as he saw fit, but for the moment the only other fitting names he could thing to call this one were insults. He would rather not start an all out war between someone he had to live with.]

Elvhen. I am Elvhen. If you are to address me as what I am, I would rather you you did not confuse me for my fallen kin.

[Meaning he would not be adverse to simply having a label thrown on him and leaving it at that. Considering he was the last, it would serve as well as a name.]

[rhygret]

Well excuse me for...not knowing there are different kinds of you.

[ Rhys crosses his arms over his chest defensively...but it's undeniable now that he's curious with that tiny tidbit of information dropped. The problem is he has to ask Abelas of all people, and forthcoming he'll be with that information is...unpredictable. ]

How many different kind of you guys are there? For reference. What's different about you compared to Zevran?

[ Besides skin tone BUT RHYS DON'T JUDGE THAT KIND OF THING ]

[getoutofmytemple]

Only two to my knowledge, if you can call the others as elves at all. Zevran is hardly any different from a human. He has no language or culture to call his own, he walks through his short life ignorant to what he has lost.

Then there is the child who calls himself Dalish. Arrogant children that claim to be "true" elvhen while they brand themselves with vallaslin, and horde scraps and tales misremembered and mistold throughout the centuries

[He let out a sigh. This was a topic, while he was growing weary of explaining it so often, he had a lot of feelings on it. Whenever someone asked it was as though he couldn't stop himself from going on about it. He supposed that's what he got for sitting on it for a thousand years.]

I am the last of an ancient stock, a remnant of a time when the empire of our people spanned across Thedas. We were immortal, magic was as much a part of us as your arms are to you. We could change the world around us with but a thought. Those that descended from my people are but shadows of their ancestors.

[rhygret]

Soooo... They just came after you and aren't magical or immortal? How old are you? Are you guys sure you even come from the same, you know, reality? Apparently there's like...hundreds of those now.

[ According to all the varying types of refugees. ]

Maybe something happened and stuff was lost. It happens with people all the time. Even aliens. As weird as that sounds.

[getoutofmytemple]

We did not count our years as you mortals do, but I would say I am a few millennia old. I know it has been a little over a thousand years since the fall of my people at the very least. As for whether or not we are from the same realm, I encountered the Dalish child before. As for Zevran, considering he mistakes me for one of the Dalish, I would say tis safe to assume that he comes from the same Thedas.

[Then there was the other young elf from Tevinter, he was obviously a sad remnant of his captured people, but this one may not be familiar with him so he did not think to bring him up.]

We warred upon ourselves, then humans came to scavenge the remains like carrion upon a corpse. I know very well what happened, I have lived through it, isolated as I may have been.

[rhygret]

Wait--wait back up there, several millennia? As in, thousands of years??

[ Rhys just needs to full-stop right there and clear that up because yeah, sure, sometimes people live a...while. But several thousand years?? That's a bit beyond his ability to like, consider. Normally. ]

[getoutofmytemple]

Yes, thousands of years. I am immortal in that I do not age, as I have said.

[A few times actually. Apparently this one needed to see it applied before it sunk in.]

[rhygret]

Well yeah but like...I figured maybe a few centuries or something. Max! Not thousands of years....

[ Rhys runs a hand back through his hair in disbelief as he lets out a whoosh of air. ]

This explains...so much.

[ Namely why Abelas is such a grandpa about stuff like bathrooms!! ]