ft_directory (
ft_directory) wrote2010-10-17 03:30 am
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Vail Ski Resort | Sunday Morning, 10/17
The Fandomites' last morning in Vail dawned cool and clear, the resort warm enough to get by with a light jacket, the slopes above frosty and crisp.
The portal back to Fandom would arrive after lunch, so now was time for packing, last-minute souvenir-shopping, or one final lift up the mountain to the wonderful land of snow-sports.
Or alternatively, freaking the heck out in your hotel room because Fandom knows no boundaries of distance or decency when it comes to attacking its current and former residents in their sleep to leave ladybits where manbits used to be, and manbits where... you get the picture.
So might the maid, if you forgot to leave the Do Not Disturb sign out.
[ OCD is up! | Hotel Rooms | Centre V | Tavern on the Square | RockResorts Spa | Other Activities at the Arrabelle | Skiing and Snowboarding | Snow Tubing | Snow-Shoeing | Shopping | Outside Dining | OOC]
The portal back to Fandom would arrive after lunch, so now was time for packing, last-minute souvenir-shopping, or one final lift up the mountain to the wonderful land of snow-sports.
Or alternatively, freaking the heck out in your hotel room because Fandom knows no boundaries of distance or decency when it comes to attacking its current and former residents in their sleep to leave ladybits where manbits used to be, and manbits where... you get the picture.
So might the maid, if you forgot to leave the Do Not Disturb sign out.
[ OCD is up! | Hotel Rooms | Centre V | Tavern on the Square | RockResorts Spa | Other Activities at the Arrabelle | Skiing and Snowboarding | Snow Tubing | Snow-Shoeing | Shopping | Outside Dining | OOC]
Room 117
It was also in a decidedly lower voice.
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"Yes," she said slowly, trying to blink her way to wakefulness. "Dolf?" she called out before she did something stupid like fully open her eyes to see who else was here.
Waaaaaait...
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He propped himself up sluggishly, sheets sliding off his chest to pool at his waist, and he blinked at her, blearily. "... who?"
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"What?" She would have to know Arthur to pay him royalties on that. Instead, she busied herself with slapping a hand to her own throat. "What's wrong with my voice?"
That, and blinking herself into a better view of the girl in Dolf's bed.
.....The NAKED girl in Dolf's bed! "WHAT?"
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... bumpy.
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"I am Cally. This is my room."
But not her voice -- and not her throat under her hand, or there was something terribly wrong with her, because it wasn't usually hard.
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It was a bit hard to break her gaze away from where it was currently disastrously glued, but Cally managed to find the fortitude somewhere. Not that looking down at herself was any less distressing. "I'm..." A boy.
//I AM Cally!// she found herself protesting -- wailing, really -- in the way that was most familiar and instinctive to her. That voice sounded like her own, at least.
Pity she hadn't quite gotten round to speaking at Dolf with it before today.
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"Cally?!" he asked, leaping up out of bed - at least he was wearing underpants - and grabbed at the nightstand. It took him five seconds to realise he hadn't actually brought the breadknife, in an effort to wean himself away from it. "Where did you put her?!"
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Luckily (by some standards), Cally wasn't
Francineas sleep-slow with adrenaline flooding her system. "...Dolf?"Re: Room 117
Dolf felt horribly defenseless without the knife at his side. He was never going to leave it behind again.
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Perhaps not staring at Dolf's breasts would help.
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Yes, Dolf. We established this.
"And I--"
Only then did he notice his body was decidedly more lithe than he was used to, and it promptly blushed scarlet all over.
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"Yes." Cally. Use your words. "You." More of them.
"Shirt." That was a good word. A very, very good word.
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Single-syllable words were the total in-thing in this room.
Dolf couldn't have snatched yesterday's t-shirt off the floor quicker than he did.
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Blanket was also a good word, though somewhat ironic insofar as Cally only found the power to bury her face in it after it wasn't actually needed.
"What?" she moaned a bit pitifully, and fine, here Arthur, have a 10-credit note.
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Oh god. What had they said?
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Oh god.
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Yes, Dolf. Yes, we'd established that by now.
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Yes. That was exactly the most comforting and least awkward thing she could have said.
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