(a story of pictures + excerpts)
That which was meant to be a simple transport of persons and cargo from one base to another became a fight for one's life.
A swift evasion from sudden invaders led to a crumb of a crash landing by the discord of spa...
"Are you sure you're okay? You usually take that off when you get inside."
"What do you mean? I already-- Oh, damn, I am still wearing it. Sorry, my mind's everywhere right now."
"No harm at all, not yet. I'm glad you're looking out for everyone, but you need to look out for yourself, too."
"Yeah, I know. I just need to wash up, and I'll be good. Don't need me sneezing everywhere, especially now."
From one frenzy to another, Kolvyr was finally able to have a home sweet home with his hardworking medic of a mate, Nasae, again. Unfortunately, it arrived attached to post-promotion-interview stress for the said lady of the house. Even worse, one of the guests she had inadvertently been made to foster and lodge by her other half has vanished without a trace. The high from the couple reconvening at home was made into nothing as the calm was snuffed out by detective work to find the most diminutive and emotional of Team Conscience (aside from maybe Kiyoko) and a flurry of outside plant-allergy-induced sneezes from her onto now her other half. The bottom floor seemed clear of cowering cuties, so they advanced upward.
"I guess I should disrobe of this, too, huh?" Kolvyr suggested, noting the allergens probably on his person, following through with his own suggestion before an intervention.
"Well," Nasae definitely wasn't opposed to seeing her mate's form without obstruction, even if it might have been overkill at the moment, "it definitely... wouldn't... hurt?"
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Her cadence, vocally and physically, slowed as her eyes caught sight of a tiny blip on one of the upper fan's blades. It could've been an insect or some other critter needing disposal, but it, being right in the line of a dust trap or just asking for a long fall or whip into a wall, made her feel that doing so to it - those toothpicks for legs and that icing swirl for hair on his head - would instead bring her to tears.
"Nasae?" an unaware Kolvyr probed, solely seeing stillness at the top of the stairs, glancing away from the perversely fitting artwork on the wall. "Is something wrong?"
"No," she coughed out before quickly clarifying with honesty, "not with me."
