Very little went as planned.
It wasn't even just a vague sidestep around the plan, but instead, more like a solid punch right into the plan's face before striding with a whistle in the opposite direction. Of course, that makes it sound like it went poorly. Something Xavarian has slowly been learning is, in cases like these, when nothing goes according to plan, it actually results in one of the best outcomes that far supersede what he could otherwise ever hope for.
Xavarian and a tired Avis had made their way back from the Mist beaches to the Mizzenmast nearer to evening. The duskwight was carrying a few packs with him, as well as some folded clothes that hid his hands and arms beneath. When the Innkeeper had noted their arrival, Xavarian did his best not to grin profusely, but the effort failed almost as soon as it began, and just caused him even more quiet amusement. He didn't speak overly much though, thanked the innkeeper for letting them in, and only giving a smiling (though possibly flustered) huff at any vague remarks about the returning pair for the later hours.
Occasional sidelong glances with repressed mischievous grins to his companion reaffirmed she was still there. That all of that had actually happened. There was a bit of guilt in how giddy he felt next to her exhaustion, and certainly did his absolute damnest to keep it down, though his smile would not be tamed, and neither would the Aetheric warmth and sparks around him. Of course, he was at the same time endearedly concerned; the story-loving scribe had spent gods-know-how-long waiting for him to wake when she only wished to sleep more comfortably herself. Just prior, the two of them had dozed off on the beach after... a terribly, wonderfully unexpected meeting. Though she didn't find slumber as long as he had. What a mess they were~ They had long since dried from their escapade in the sea water, but nonetheless, both of them needed a change, a bath, and probably some less sandy quarters to sort themselves out. If she didn't object, Xavarian would walk Avis back to her room, mostly quiet unless she spoke, (it's always hard to hold conversation when sleepy and the mind is swimming with thought) and likely (sometimes) letting her take the lead when his own musings distracted him from the proper direction.
Once at Avis' door, the duskwight stopped, and throwing the clothing he held over his shoulder (the one without the hovering eye-gem above it), Xavarian gave her a soft grin while he took her hand, very gently, for just a short moment. He still was rather timid about the whole physical closeness thing, but damnit, he was trying. Little, harmless sparks began to jump over to her then. "Rest yourself well, Avis of the Heavens~ I.. will have that key, and more answers, for you soon~" His voice came nearly as a whisper, and he couldn't help a tiny snicker at his own first comment. What a dork; but she'd started it. Her hand was released quickly enough, not wanting to keep her any longer than he unintentionally already had done, and he only stayed as long as she chose to keep him before he made his way with quiet steps back to his own room.
His door opened. His door closed. Back leaned against that very door still, Xavarian's excitement let itself out in the form of a grin that took over his features, quiet laughter, and the need to cover his warm face. What had just happened~? His thoughts hardly knew where to begin, so he let them roam, formless in pictures and feelings, and instead took in all he felt from them to elicit an overly pleased 'Hm~'. It didn't take the duskwight long for the urge to write it all down to come back to him, and when he finally looked at his table from behind his hands, that was when he remembered.
Throwing everything he'd carried down, he scrambled over to the table, dusting himself off of any remaining sand, before pulling out his tome. The letters were reread. His prior unfinished passages too. He didn't have any idea what to write, even still, but he just wanted to, so with no plan at all, all grins, warmth, and sparks, he brought pen to page.
The words had been scrawled without pause, almost a gesture in themselves; when his pen flew across the page, he hardly thought. Just wrote. Only a few times did he stop and consider the pacing, but it was that sort of consideration where your mind is attached more to a feeling than the finessing skill involved. When he was done, he let out a quiet snicker, before reading the page over to see if it made any sense at all. As though he was unsure. In truth, he was. However, he seemed satisfied, then scribbled something quickly on the back of the previous page he'd left unfinished, before standing once more.
He had no idea how long that had taken him. It was night again now, and he had few doubts that Avis would be asleep. Which was certainly just as well, he hoped she slept a good long while. His thoughts continued to be more prominent than his actions, and he hardly noticed himself collecting the letters, and walking himself back out the door amidst warmth and sparks.
Xavarian ambled down the hall musing. It was when he found himself at the end of the wrong hall that he snorted and tried to muse a little less, but to little avail, and it was the second wrong-hall that made him think a bit more about where his body was wandering instead of his imagination. Eventually, he made it.
By the time he was at the door, he had a doofy sort of mischievous grin. Like he was passing along a secret of sorts, one he hoped and thought might make the recipient laugh, or as pleased as he was. Very quietly, as though to not disturb any goings-on on the other side, he slid two pages under the door. Both were of the swirly sort of paper, both had small writings on their backs, which were face up to be seen first. One sheet, though, had gold leaf along its edge.
Belatedly, after the papers were out of reach, the duskwight remembered the folded paper birds. A small huff caused the tall man to kneel and get down on all fours, peering under the door, to see if he might reach the letters to do something more elaborate with them, but- well, they were a bit far out of fingers-under-the-door grasp, and- Then he realized what he was doing and abruptly sat himself up, dusting himself off like that certainly didn't just happen, and started cracking up once he was upright again. He had to cover his mouth with both hands, reminding himself to 'shoosh', before he left the door smiling to finally take that bath he desperately needed.
It wasn't even just a vague sidestep around the plan, but instead, more like a solid punch right into the plan's face before striding with a whistle in the opposite direction. Of course, that makes it sound like it went poorly. Something Xavarian has slowly been learning is, in cases like these, when nothing goes according to plan, it actually results in one of the best outcomes that far supersede what he could otherwise ever hope for.
Xavarian and a tired Avis had made their way back from the Mist beaches to the Mizzenmast nearer to evening. The duskwight was carrying a few packs with him, as well as some folded clothes that hid his hands and arms beneath. When the Innkeeper had noted their arrival, Xavarian did his best not to grin profusely, but the effort failed almost as soon as it began, and just caused him even more quiet amusement. He didn't speak overly much though, thanked the innkeeper for letting them in, and only giving a smiling (though possibly flustered) huff at any vague remarks about the returning pair for the later hours.
Occasional sidelong glances with repressed mischievous grins to his companion reaffirmed she was still there. That all of that had actually happened. There was a bit of guilt in how giddy he felt next to her exhaustion, and certainly did his absolute damnest to keep it down, though his smile would not be tamed, and neither would the Aetheric warmth and sparks around him. Of course, he was at the same time endearedly concerned; the story-loving scribe had spent gods-know-how-long waiting for him to wake when she only wished to sleep more comfortably herself. Just prior, the two of them had dozed off on the beach after... a terribly, wonderfully unexpected meeting. Though she didn't find slumber as long as he had. What a mess they were~ They had long since dried from their escapade in the sea water, but nonetheless, both of them needed a change, a bath, and probably some less sandy quarters to sort themselves out. If she didn't object, Xavarian would walk Avis back to her room, mostly quiet unless she spoke, (it's always hard to hold conversation when sleepy and the mind is swimming with thought) and likely (sometimes) letting her take the lead when his own musings distracted him from the proper direction.
Once at Avis' door, the duskwight stopped, and throwing the clothing he held over his shoulder (the one without the hovering eye-gem above it), Xavarian gave her a soft grin while he took her hand, very gently, for just a short moment. He still was rather timid about the whole physical closeness thing, but damnit, he was trying. Little, harmless sparks began to jump over to her then. "Rest yourself well, Avis of the Heavens~ I.. will have that key, and more answers, for you soon~" His voice came nearly as a whisper, and he couldn't help a tiny snicker at his own first comment. What a dork; but she'd started it. Her hand was released quickly enough, not wanting to keep her any longer than he unintentionally already had done, and he only stayed as long as she chose to keep him before he made his way with quiet steps back to his own room.
His door opened. His door closed. Back leaned against that very door still, Xavarian's excitement let itself out in the form of a grin that took over his features, quiet laughter, and the need to cover his warm face. What had just happened~? His thoughts hardly knew where to begin, so he let them roam, formless in pictures and feelings, and instead took in all he felt from them to elicit an overly pleased 'Hm~'. It didn't take the duskwight long for the urge to write it all down to come back to him, and when he finally looked at his table from behind his hands, that was when he remembered.
Throwing everything he'd carried down, he scrambled over to the table, dusting himself off of any remaining sand, before pulling out his tome. The letters were reread. His prior unfinished passages too. He didn't have any idea what to write, even still, but he just wanted to, so with no plan at all, all grins, warmth, and sparks, he brought pen to page.
________
The words had been scrawled without pause, almost a gesture in themselves; when his pen flew across the page, he hardly thought. Just wrote. Only a few times did he stop and consider the pacing, but it was that sort of consideration where your mind is attached more to a feeling than the finessing skill involved. When he was done, he let out a quiet snicker, before reading the page over to see if it made any sense at all. As though he was unsure. In truth, he was. However, he seemed satisfied, then scribbled something quickly on the back of the previous page he'd left unfinished, before standing once more.
He had no idea how long that had taken him. It was night again now, and he had few doubts that Avis would be asleep. Which was certainly just as well, he hoped she slept a good long while. His thoughts continued to be more prominent than his actions, and he hardly noticed himself collecting the letters, and walking himself back out the door amidst warmth and sparks.
Xavarian ambled down the hall musing. It was when he found himself at the end of the wrong hall that he snorted and tried to muse a little less, but to little avail, and it was the second wrong-hall that made him think a bit more about where his body was wandering instead of his imagination. Eventually, he made it.
By the time he was at the door, he had a doofy sort of mischievous grin. Like he was passing along a secret of sorts, one he hoped and thought might make the recipient laugh, or as pleased as he was. Very quietly, as though to not disturb any goings-on on the other side, he slid two pages under the door. Both were of the swirly sort of paper, both had small writings on their backs, which were face up to be seen first. One sheet, though, had gold leaf along its edge.
Belatedly, after the papers were out of reach, the duskwight remembered the folded paper birds. A small huff caused the tall man to kneel and get down on all fours, peering under the door, to see if he might reach the letters to do something more elaborate with them, but- well, they were a bit far out of fingers-under-the-door grasp, and- Then he realized what he was doing and abruptly sat himself up, dusting himself off like that certainly didn't just happen, and started cracking up once he was upright again. He had to cover his mouth with both hands, reminding himself to 'shoosh', before he left the door smiling to finally take that bath he desperately needed.
