When the Nexus toyed with Glenn, it did so in spectacularly cruel fashion. There was the time he had been drawing a hot bath, back when he was living in the Red Dragon Inn, and the Nexus had swooped in to take him away. When it finally deigned to return him, it dropped him into a bathtub full of cold water, fully clothed of course. Or there was the time he had been whisked away, right after Carley had been beaten down by Koyliak in their Fists of Fashion duels. It hadn't been his fault, but he still felt guilty about not being there for the little blonde elf, even to this day. As bad as those Nexus-nappings had been, the one that occurred last Sunday probably took the cake.

He had been sound asleep, slumbering on his futon in his barn, when all of a sudden, the Nexus decided to steal him from his bed and deposit him unceremoniously on the floor of the Red Dragon Inn, wearing nothing but his sleep clothes: grey boxer-briefs and a white t-shirt. Of course, this happened in front of a good number of his friends and acquaintances, as well as perfect strangers: Eless, Maeve, Hawk, Chryrie. Thankfully, he was able to get some more appropriate attire on relatively quickly. The kick in the gut, though, was when he realized he hadn't been wearing his necklace when he had been spirited away. He immediately panicked, keeping his head down whenever possible, refusing to look anybody in the eyes. Maeve noticed almost immediately, but others either didn't, or said nothing about it, despite the absolute terror that wracked him. Somehow, though, he managed not to blow up the Inn, or any of the people or things inside the Inn, which was nothing short of miraculous and curious for the carpenter. True, he had been finding lately that, in certain places, he could go without his necklace, and still have some semblance of control over his untamed gift. The Southern Glen, and even his barn. He hadn't been aware that the Inn was also one of those places. If he had been of a sounder mind at that moment, he would have filed that information away for later reference. But all he cared about then and there was making sure nobody looked at him too closely.

It hadn't helped that Rena and Piper had tried to do business with him. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so nerve-wracking. Trying to avoid Piper's gaze and still successfully talk shop was impossible, and as it turned out, he couldn't even make what she wanted him to make. It was only by the kindness and generosity of Maeve, followed by Carley's fortunate entrance later, that prevented Glenn from being reduced to a quivering, nervous wreck. They talked to him, took care of him, got him his green tea, and, when Glenn realized there was no way he could get home safely without risking a magical fireworks show (with him as the pyrotechnician), Carley had gotten him out of there as fast as she could and procured a room for him in the Inn.

That room, however, was the start of another interesting adventure for Glenn...

Glenn cringed under there for a while, until it became apparent that he wasn't going to get stabbed. Hearing the door slam, he threw off the blankets, as dark green eyes started to dart around the room, looking for something to defend himself. He had a feeling the assailant would be returning shortly, and he wanted to have something to fight back with, even if his assailant happened to be a shirtless woman. He hopped out of bed, bare feet thudding on the floor, and grabbed the nearest thing he could find. A lamp. Not the most easily wielded of weapons, but it would have to do. Of course, he didn't look all that intimidating, crouching in a corner of the room, eyes glued on the door to the hallway.

Inside the cramped, dark little closet, Lydia shuffled about blindly in there. The first blouse she could grab hold of was taken in hand and she turned to better put it on, accidentally thunking against the door and walls a bit in the process. Hangers clanked and shuffling ensued, along with a definitive, "ow!".

Now he was wide awake, the fight-or-flight reflex having kicked in full. He felt the blood pumping strong through his arteries, his palms sweaty on the lamp-too late! It slipped and fell on the floor, with a soft *crack.* He hadn't dropped it from too far up, so only a small piece had broken off, but it was definitely damaged. Though that shard would make a better weapon... Carefully, Glenn picked up the ceramic remnant, trying to figure out a good way to hold it in case he needed to use it to defend himself. Of course, he was still crouched in the corner, somewhat petrified.

Finally, after a few more moments and sounds from the closet, the door swung open, and a very angry and agitated green haired elf stomped out of it. Still red from embarrassment, she now wore a yellow sundress (backwards) which didn't quite go with the black skirt. At all. Lips a thin line and brows furrowed, pale blues landed on the bed, though she didn't find Glenn there. After a moment of glancing around, it didn't take her long to see the carpenter huddled in the corner with her.. broken lamp?

Now, he was really confused. Was that the...burglar, dressed in more appropriate attire. Wait, why were there clothes in the closet? Women's clothes? Then, further analysis revealed that the person in front of him had green hair. Lydia? He blink-blinked, and it was right about that time that the light-blue, white-paint splashed jeans that he had borrowed the previous evening decided they'd had enough. Glenn crouched a little too much, and the tight pants split along the back side with an audible *riiiiiiiiip*. Shard still in hand, he opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Immediately, his cheeks were burning up.

Lydia moved in that direction, almost in what could be considered a rampage. The splitting of pants was either ignored or more likely, unheard, as she reached down. Not to administer any sort of death touch upon Glenn, but to pick her broken lamp off the ground. After a brief inspection, pale blues snapped back to the carpenter, a plethora of unasked questions brimming in her gaze.

Glenn dropped the lamp shard as Lydia approached, fairly confident in the fact that she wasn't going to kill him. Feeling the draft on his bum, he sat down, looking completely and utterly baffled by the current turn of events. So he decided to go back to his earlier question, trying not to sound completely surprised (and mostly failing). "What're you doing here?"

Hearing Glenn's question, Lydia sucked in a breath of air. Moving aside to set the lamp back on the table it was from, she turned to face Glenn again, hands on her hips. She still wasn't looking terribly pleased. "This is my room."

That certainly didn't help remove the red from his face. He turned away from her, mortified. "But-but-but Carley got me this room last night..."

Carley? Carley? That perhaps, answered about half of her unasked questions right there. Both hands rose into the air in a strange sort of grabbing gesture, like she wanted to strangle someone. Such a thing was futile however, so she gave a rather long suffering sigh before moving to sit on the edge of her bed, grasping the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. Not even 9 AM and already she had a splitting headache...

Now, for the second comment on Glenn's mind, as a furious round of tapping on his forehead with his index finger didn't seem to be revealing answers. He looked almost ready to look her in the eye, when he finally managed to put two and two together, about what he had seen previously. He averted his eyes yet again. The red stayed on his cheeks still. "I'm...really confused."

"I'm just a little confused myself..." That was muttered, before she managed another sigh. "I.. don't stay in this room often, just have staff keep it up. Come by sometimes..." Trailing off, she glanced in Glenn's direction, but didn't quite manage that art of eye contact.

Lydia's glance over in his direction quickly reminded him of why he had been forced to stay the night here. He touched his chest (simply covered by a white t-shirt), as if searching for something that was missing, before turning his eyes to the ground. Hands went up, to double-check that his hair was covering all the right spots over his ears. Even though he was satisfied it was, he didn't look up. He spoke towards the ground. "I'm sorry."

Lydia furrowed her brows briefly, taking note of Glenn's gesture. It took a moment for her to realize that his necklace was missing, and that his appearance was.. different, but she didn't comment on it. "No.. it's fine. This isn't something that was your fault..." Her gaze shifted away from him to glance around, pale blues briefly resting on the gardenia plant in there, not yet in bloom.

Glenn scrambled to his feet then, trying to sidestep his way around the room to the door. Maybe if he was lucky, he could find another pair of pants in the "Lost and Found." Perhaps this time they would actually fit him, and not rip in a rather unfortunate place. "I'll, uh...see you later?" The best thing to do, he thought, was try and beat a hasty retreat. And pretend this never happened.

Oh, but it did. And no amount of mental cleansing was ever going to wipe this memory from her mind. Carley was going to pay for this one... Rather than reply verbally to his words, Lydia simply nodded towards Glenn, then waved vaguely in his direction, a combination of a wave goodbye and waving him away.

He struggled to get the door open, palms sweaty from nerves. Of course, he couldn't open the door very well if he wasn't facing the door knob, so the last thing anybody watching him exit would see was the giant hole in the bottom of his pants, revealing small glimpses of the grey boxer-briefs he was wearing. Once he finally had the door open, he stumbled outside, practically running down the hallway and down the staircase. Only the gods knew where exactly he planned on going next...


(edited and adapted from Live RP)