bakerstreet | Just so you know, you're never getting this sweatshirt back.

( m/f and f/f are cool with me!

)

[This was a poorly planned... whatever it was meant to be. Somewhat of a staged vacation, somewhat of a video feature, somewhat of a photo opportunity, somewhat of an impromptu concert, somewhat of a general publicity stunt? Something that wasn't supposed to be rained on. Whatever it is, it means that Mag is currently trying to regain some manner of composure while her crew runs around trying to protect the truly impressive amount of electronic equipment from getting rained on while they all somehow forget that the pop-opera star they're accompanying is standing there getting drenched.

While wearing a corset and very little else, mind you, and it also doesn't help that despite being a performer she's incredibly timid a lot of the time. Case in point, how she barely raises her voice to say:] Excuse me? Is anyone... does anyone...

[A jacket would help, and an umbrella would even suffice for the time being. It's worse, she thinks, that she can see everyone running around forgetting she's standing there. She has no doubt people have done that sort of thing her whole life, but she doesn't like not being able to ignore it.]

( the island of kalokairi is quite possibly the most beautiful thing donna sheridan has ever laid eyes on — and in all honesty, she's always kind of surprised that more people don't come here to relax and explore. the perks and perils of being at what may as well be the edge of the world, after all — they might be afraid of falling off.

there's a huge hubbub amongst the locals when a private boat arrives with tons of crew members and — a pop star? donna's a little oblivious to the going-ons on the mainland nowadays unless it's something that tanya or rosie finds pertinent to tell her. no, she's too busy working on fixing up the old goat house, making it into something magnificent.

still, she can't help her natural curiosity. with a dreamy smile on her face, she sits near the open window of sofia's bar, watches all of the excitement — even gets a glimpse of the veritable celebrity herself ... and then the thunder rolls in, and before she knows it, the skies open up, rain pounding against stone walkways and drenching the crew, leaving everyone scrambling and in chaos. and amidst it all, that beautiful woman, looking more than a little lost and more than a little cold ...

sandal-clad feet splash in the puddles as she runs out of the tavern, tugging the large, floppy hat off of her head and sticking it on this girl's head instead, starting to shrug off her cropped denim jacket so she can hand it her way, too. ) Quick, before that radical outfit gets ruined!

[In Donna's defense, Mag is very... niche. A lot of her fanbase is fairly localized (another part of this extravaganza is building a more worldwide following, allegedly) and, well, see also: pop-opera. It's not everyone's thing and she's not offended by that.

She's just looking around, trying to find something worth her attention to distract her, when suddenly a blonde runs up out of nowhere. Mag gasps. This woman is definitely worth her attention, but she's not about to come out and say so! Goodness, no. She has better manners than that.

Instead she accepts the offered clothes even as she insists:] Aren't you going to be cold, then?

[ Let her snuggle into your clothes. ]

[ in search of: oversized, rugged coats/cloaks.

prefs ]

[ Wild ]

[ be prepared to swim in his clothes.]

[Allura and patience are not...always the best. Sure, she's a born and raised diplomatic, with a fine understanding of how emotional bursts get you nowhere in the face of tactics and diplomacy. But, when she's stuck alone, sitting and waiting about for a varga or two, waiting around in Lotor's quarters for his meeting with fellow Galra leaders to finish, she's getting antsy. And with no mice to distract her from the ever-growing boredom, she's gotten restless. And very much inclined to snoop around.

At first it starts out innocently: poking through whatever books he has laying around, taking a knife from his personal collection to playful brandish it only to then grow bored and put it away, to finally just poking around his closet, finding what looks to be a tunic. Or perhaps a nightshirt? Surprisingly thin material for someone who's always sealed off in a suit of armour.

Idly, she puts it on, standing in front of a full-length mirror to look at herself, amused at how much it dwarfs her, only then adjusting her size so that it actually fits and she's standing a good head taller and lankier than before. At first she's simply admiring how funny it looks to be wearing a shirt cut in a rather archaic, Galran style, but then, after turning her head to look towards the door (just...to make sure), she brings the neck of the tunic up to her nose, sniffing it. It smells clean, unworn, but still there's a familiar warm and deep scent to it that has her gaze hooded for a tick, a blush creeping up to the tips of her ears.]

[ Meetings like this were the most frustrating kind, and it left Lotor not only aggravated but exhausted; the very ends of his nerves frayed by the constant disagreement. Had he been his father, no conversation would even come up. There would have been silent agreement to everything he suggested, even if it meant the death of millions and millions. Here he was trying to avoid exactly that, and the Galra of course had more issues with that than any kind of slaughter. Slaughtering was easy. Working together, that was what was difficult; but if they would just listen to him it would make it a lot easier.

Dismissing his guards, the prince, no, emperor now, runs his fingers through his hair as he enters his quarters, still looking at the documents in front of him. It's this reason that he doesn't immediately notice the other person inside, the door closing behind him with a hiss before he bothers looking up; halfway through the motion of hitting the release button on his boots on the corner of a nearby chair.

Standing before him is Princess Allura, all long legs and curves in that form fitting flight suit- wearing his nightshirt. Heat moves up the back of his neck, and he finds himself frozen, awkwardly balanced on one foot as he just blinks once, twice, and then speaks; his voice more than hoarse. ]

Princess?

[Having been waiting for so long, she hadn’t been anticipating his return to be so soon. She’s preoccupied with his scent that lingers on the shirt, so distinctly his that no amount of wash could remove it. And then she moves to looking at herself, the intimacy of wearing his nightclothes suddenly dawning on her with an even more embarrassing heat. She’s about to remove the tunic when she hears him enter, freezing like a Yelmore stunned by a laser as she stares a bit dimwittedly at the Emperor of the new Galra Empire, unsure of what to do.

He seems preoccupied, in an annoyed way that seems incredibly private and for no one else to see, and for a tick Allura feels like she should say something. But he’s already in the midst of taking off his boots, her eyes locking into his as he looks up.]

Oh! [She flushes a bright pink, hands still at her side, tunic half lifted. Then she panics a bit, utterly embarrassed, raising her hands up and away from the shirt before fumbling a bit, settling with clasping her hands behind her back. She rocks up and down on the balls of her feet, attempting to play this off as nothing.] Lotor!

[er......]

How was the meeting?

[ He distinctly remembers telling her that he would return and meet her when he was finished with his meeting, but he had assumed that meant back on the Castle of Lions, not....in his private chambers. How had she even gotten inside? Did his guard just assume--

The lilac of his skin is now a pretty maroon at the cheeks and neck, and he straightens after a moment, swallowing hard. This was...incredibly inappropriate in a multitude of ways, but he can't take his eyes away from the hem of his shirt dusting at her hips (she had grown in size, the first time he had witnessed her use those Altean abilities) and he has to drag them back up to her face after quite a bit of effort silencing the less polite parts of his brain. ]

Less productive than I had hoped. [ A pause, and then: ] Are you... cold? I have plenty you can wear if that is the case.

[Well, the guard certainly assumed something of Allura when she told him that Lotor had requested a private audience with her following his meeting. And Allura certainly thought little of the way the guard smirked at her when allowing her in.

But now, Allura is thinking a lot of things, not missing the way his skin is flushed and how...intriguing it his to see him caught off-guard. Though it's a bit difficult to wrap her head around any particular feeling other than being utterly mortified at being caught in doing something so juvenile, and now he knows she's been snooping around his room as opposed to waiting patiently for his arrival like a proper dignitary.

She had hoped her question would distract from the current issue at hand, but it doesn't, and his question only serves her to blush an even deeper red.]

No! [The truth answers faster than taking the opportunity to lie and make an excuse, her voice coming out in a bit of a squeak. Then, a pause on her end, a cough, and:] I-I mean...yes. I was a bit chilly waiting for you here, so I... [She gestures a bit vaguely. There's a desire to shrink, but she's remaining at a height similar to his. Shrinking would only make her look more guilty now...] Took some liberties in finding something to layer on.

[Nevermind the fact that her flightsuit, as tight as it may be, is thermo-regulated and far better at keeping her body temperature at a comfortable level than any old tunic. Not to mention her strained, flustered look isn't giving much credence to her lie.]

My apologies...

[ She's blushing. Stumbling over her words. Had she really just been trying on his clothing for no reason at all?

It gives him a moment to center himself, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as he lets his shoulders relax, regaining his composure. His boot has already opened, the front leaning forward at a dangerous angle, and he takes a moment to take it off, and then the other, placing them neatly near the door.

Relax. This was unexpected, but not in itself unwanted. ]

There is no reason to apologize. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for making you wait in such conditions.

[ He hesitates ever so slightly, before reaching up and releasing the clasps to his armor, lifting the breastplate up and over his head, before setting it down as well. The lines of his suit are still heavy, but the bulk of his shoulders are greatly reduced, and he walks past her with a confidant step to reach into the closet.

No, no, no- ah. This.

He pulls out a coat, the fabric actually soft and downy, and he turns and wraps it around her shoulders, a quirk to his lips as he takes note of how he barely has to look down to meet her eyes like this. ]

I hope this will be adequate.

[Allura's composure, however, remains all the more stilted, awkward, mainly because she's the one caught and now finding herself giving in to a lie. Which is never something she's been good at but-- well

At least Lotor seems to be buying it. Or at the very least, is playing along for her sake.

But something inside her had stirred when she took a moment from her mortification to realize she's caught him off-guard, a certain vulnerability she hadn't expected from him, and she finds herself remiss as he seems to melt easily back into his usual easy candor. But, despite that, as he continues to remove his armour, that same stirring feeling returns, breath catching a bit in her throat, and while the cut of his figure remains relatively the same dressed down from his usual attire, seeing his lean frame out of armour remains--

Oh.

She's staring.

As he walks past her, she averts her gaze, biting her lip, though the tension in her shoulders slowly loosens as she hears him peruse in his closet some ways beside her. And upon the sound of him finally pulling something out of the closet, she meets his gaze head-on (something she's not quite used to, even though she chose to be this tall) and with the way his arms are about her as he wraps the coat around her shoulders she blushes even brighter.]

Y-yes. [She brings her hands up to further wrap the coat around her like a shawl, still looking at him.] It is indeed adequate. Very warm.

[And. Very...very close.

She glances down towards his mouth, noting the smirk, glancing away once more as her figure finally shrinks down to her natural size, both the coat and the tunic fitting her more like a short dress. Her flightsuit beneath, however, remains ever-fitted]

Thank you, Lotor.

(Flight suit or dress. Okay with S7 spoilers!)

[ooc;; have fun in his uniform? Or flight suit?

Look we never see casual clothes on him. ]

[ Red Paladin suit, BoM suit, or his old casual clothes he never wears. Either way all good with s7 shit! ]

[ swim in his rebel clothes. Because he already does too. Okay with s7 stuff! ]

Edited 2018-08-13 11:10 (UTC)

( yes / no / mebbe? )

[ooc;; yes please? do you mind starting?]

( i don't mind at all! do you have any prefs for canonpoint or anything else? )

[ooc;; I'm basically good with any canon point, I'm all caught up with the serious. As for the clothes civies or otherwise is fine.]

( okay i think i've decided on some pre-kerberos garrison pureness -- i'm sorry i didn't get to it last night but i'll crank something out after i'm finished with work today if that's cool! )

[ooc;; yeah no problem!!! Life is like that.]

( finally manages to crank this out lemme know if anything needs tweaking! )

( they spend enough time in each other's presence that, sometimes, articles of clothing get swapped around; a shirt here and there, more often than not in matt's case because this one's shoulders are just a tad more broad — and he never thinks about it, not really, because when he does stop to ponder on it long enough he. kind of likes the idea of the other wearing his stuff. for whatever reason.

it's chilly at night, sometimes, even if he tends to ignore it because it doesn't bother him that much, but one such evening finds him thinking that if it's already this cool, it's going to be even cooler when he wakes up the following morning for opening drills, and it crosses his mind that he should maybe dig out a jacket. just in case. except the favored sweatshirt-hoodie-thing he ends up going for is nowhere to be found, regardless of the fact that he can remember the exact time he'd last worn it.

and one ( 1 ) matthew holt had been in his room recently. of course he hadn't thought about it until it got to be something of an issue, and the thought itself is enough to have one corner of his mouth kicking upward in a lopsided grin as he exits his dorm and makes his way toward the other's.

a brief walk and a soft knock later, he's standing in the hall just outside a certain nerd's door, waiting for him to answer and when he does, wouldn't you know it — boom, there's the missing sweatshirt. draped across a lanky figure that is effectively swallowed by it.

shiro has honestly never been more endeared. ) You could have just asked to borrow it, you know. ( he teases softly, leaning against the doorframe. )

[ Sure enoughwhen Matt opens his door it's with the oversized sweatshirt and bags under his eyes. He hasn't really slept...again. Too busy messing around on his computer. Where do you think Katie got it? Smiling up at Shiro the smaller cadet just shrugged. ]

Easier not to ask and apologize later....not that I'm going to apologize. Besides you weren't wearing it.

[ Matt just because he wasn't wearing it at that exact moment it doesn't mean you could just take it.

Oh well, sorry Shiro but it's his for now. ]

( they both have those bouts of not sleeping, matt here being the worst at it when he's got some assignment due and shiro … just has a hard time relaxing with all of the things that tend to roll around in his head at any given time. put 'em together and what have you got? bippity boppity … a crappy sleep schedule that neither of them can seem to get themselves out of.

he's not unused to seeing the other with bags under his eyes ( it isn't uncommon for it to be the other way around, either ), but it does make the corner of his mouth fall just a little, a half-frown that he knows will get him a roll of the eyes and an i'm fine, don't worry about me, because that's just how holts work.

he does laugh, though, and shake his head. ) A valid point, I guess. ( that half-frown slips back into a lopsided, soft smile. ) Long night?

[ Moving aside so that Shiro could come in Matt nodded as he moved to sit back on his bed. It's a mess of course, not to uncommon when a big project or test was due. Papers strewn over the covers, a laptop and a tablet both with impossible amounts of data and windows open. He's been multitasking again. There's only barely a place for him to sit. Though when he does sit he's quick to move papers and make room for Shiro should he want to sit down. ]

Professor Thomson wants this stuff tomorrow at 0800...

[ He shrugs again as he moves to tap a couple things on his tablet. ]

Got lost in my work again...next thing I knew it the sun was up.