|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 1:21 pm
 |
|
|
 |
The walk was agonizingly slow for how his body clamored for sleep. Laboring though it was, they passed under the time-etched stone of greater archways toward the Citadel's undercroft. The vaulted ceilings patterened out into their own smaller hallways, spidering a good breadth into the ground, with simple rooms branching off their paths. From there, the cold light of crystals and Faustite's direction delivered them to one of the remodeled bathroom areas.
While simple, and oft constructed of the same decrepit wood from long-disused desks and bookshelves, the cabinetry still supported the sink in a vague vanity shape. Faustite reclamed his arm from Heliodor's shoulder to lean against the countertop. "Start the water."
While he waited, Faustite picked fruitlessly at the buttons to his vest. Too-long nails retained their dagger shape during his time in the Rift, forming formidable natural weapons, yet encumbering him immensely at the simple task of getting undressed. He knew he had two layers to go through — vest and shirt — which doubled his frustrations. He wasted another moment picking at the ostentatious brass buttons before he gripped both sides of the vest and pulled. While made well by Chaos' tailor, another few hearty tugs finally broke the threading to free the vest. He wormed his arms through the holes. And while he still faced another set of buttons the greater problem arose with getting the vest off the hook of pipes in his back. This is better left to Heliodor.
He started on the shirt nonetheless. While muscles protested alongside threading, the latter burst before the former gave out. Again he managed the quick, shoulder-pained motions to shed his shirt onto the pipes. The rest would follow much more easily, with shoes already gone and pants thankfully lacking extra surgical implements to impede them.
Better to face what water does in these pipes with an ally. An ally whose best interests are vested in my survival. He looked to Heliodor for a long moment, silent, gaze steeled. "If it appalls you, consider this your lesson against eating too many starseeds." His attention flickered away to the antique-style tub-shower combination where a clawfoot tub was the site of many baths. And what would it do to me? There's so many questions left to answer.
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 2:50 pm
|
|
|
|
The architecture, rooms and hallways that made up their path was only vaguely noted as Heliodor supported Faustite on their venture to the showers. His attention was focused on each step the Captain took, watching for any signs of faltering or worse, collapse, but none came. As should have been expected, the half-youma made it to the showers with no further loss of dignity besides the need for support.
Entering the showers, Faustite’s shift in weight signaled the release followed quickly by a command. Pausing only a moment to make sure there was going to be no fallings, Heliodor slipped over to the shower and turned knobs. Considering the Captains body temperature, Heliodor opted for a slightly hotter than average temperature; something that bordered the line of what was comfortable for himself he figured would be a decent temperature for Faustite to enter in and adjust as needed. Once assured the water had reached and was going to remain a steady temperature, Helio shook his hand as he removed it from the water and return to his temporary ward.
Finding the Captain standing there naked all except the clothing dangling from his pipes was an odd sight. Amusing even. “No. Not at all.” He remarked to the statement. “Though, if you’ll excuse the bluntness, I’d rather still not find out for myself what effects I’d be given from overconsumption of starseeds.” He quirked a grin as he forced eyes from wandering in directions that he was sure Faustite would find unamusing at such a time.
“Here, let me help with that.” Moving to help the Captain rid himself of the last vestaments of clothing hanging from him like a coat rack. Fingers and eyes noted the fly away threads and half-ripped off buttons. Some buttons, in fact, were completely missing. Tired and weak as he is, he still had enough strength to rip off the buttons on these. With the clothing freed from the pipes, Helio deposited it on the vanity with little care. Likely the Captain would simply summon up new clothing when needed. “Do you need help getting in? And is there somewhere I can find you soap and a towel?” He glanced around at the cabinetry around the room, quite sure the items he sought were hidden within them.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 7:30 pm
|
|
|
|
"You'd enjoy being too hot to keep body hair." Faustite shot him a knowing look. Haranguing his subordinate would wait, however; he wanted to stop smelling himself in the coming minutes.
He needn't bend far to crack open the cabinet doors, allowing a view into the dank and dusty space. Inside lay the normal bathroom expectations — cleaning chemicals for the unfortunate lieutenant assigned to tending the space, cheap bars of soap stacked to one side, equally cheap shampoo and conditioner, wash cloths, towels, and a few scanty toiletries. Faustite would let Heliodor do the bending.
Faustite pressed his hand to the opposite wall and managed one foot for the other, worked against overexertion, and reached the lip of the tub. Climbing in was another matter; the hung mirror had long since fogged, reflecting only a hazy caricature of himself, and he knew the water was stiflingly hot. Already it formed a heavy cocoon in his lungs, and the heat in the air coated his skin. He sat on the toilet for a moment as he grasped the old handles and wound the heat nearer its off position. Fingers then tested the water later to find it a more agreeable tepid, or in Heliodor's case, possibly even chilly.
He paused, debating with himself, then spoke. "It isn't like a fever. It's like being outside on a hot day, but that hot day is trapped inside you. You're burning up from the inside and your body knows it needs to cool down. It tells you every time you walk in a room above sixty degrees." Faustite often dealt with standing on the cusp to overheating; baths became his mainstay for relaxing temperatures. Winter was ever his boon now, so long as it lasted. But when summer came, he wondered how well he could take it. His unform lacked the kindness of less clothing. And if his captaincy brought about such an increase in temperature, then what if he received a promotion? What further mutations would chaos conjure in his body?
That thought held no value here, however. Once the water cooled enough, Faustite gave Heliodor only a light forewarning: "I never had water in these pipes before. I might drown, I might not." Who's to say. Parting the curtain, he finally slipped himself feet-first from toilet to tub.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 9:00 pm
|
|
|
|
"Everything smells better than me," he responded coolly. The water met his side first, the pinprick pummel unmistkeable, and desperate nostalgia seized him. How long had it been? A year? A year and he finally felt the tickling massage of a shower on his skin again. The sensation proved too much at first — he backed away from the stream until it attacked his toes and ankles alone, where black traced halfway up his metatarsals. Even then, it tickled to the point where he raised one foot and realized the grave mistake in trusting that much weight to one leg.
Rather than falling out of the tub, his leg slowly gave out beneath him. One strange feeling followed up another as he sank down with no strength left in his legs to right himself in full. Hands grabbed the sides of the tub and he waited, crouched, buried in consternation, and strangely giddy.
What a strange day it's been. White noise patter in the tub proved hypnotic, almost distracting while Heliodor bustled with the cabinetry. The doors shut with a clack, and he watched the Negaverse senshi's visage through the clear plastic curtain. moments passed before he processed the objection sputtered to him, and even then, the words felt distant. Like they were happening to someone else, spoken out of a radio set on the other side of the room. Like speech on the other side of the door in his mother's tea room. Like old, crusty secrets trying to withhold their power.
He blinked twice before his mind came back to him. Water still ticked and lapped at his toes. "Better to find out now. I need to know what to expect if it rains while I'm in the field. What happens if I get knocked into a lake?" He let the question linger. "If there's a problem, we address it. You're here. The infirmary's there.
"I'm surprised," he added with a change of angle. Sinking down fully to the porcelain, he gave up on his weary legs. "She must be awful if you wouldn't want me to drown." His tone shift impeccably subtle, Heliodor's only hint lay in arch body language.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 10:01 pm
|
|
|
|
Helio did his best to keep his attention elsewhere than the frosted curtain that obscured Faustite's form. It was the least the senshi could o to give the young man some sort of privacy. Even if it was barely any at all, Helio thought it somewhat considerate. Though, with the statee Faustite had been in, Helio wouldn't have cared either if someone else was in there with him. Well, to tell the truth, he wouldn't have cared either way. Showering in a ublic setting wasn't out of the realm of normal for him with his time spent at theatres.
"I suppose you're righ."He remarked. 'I'd really like to avoid having to drag you back to the infirmary because of a near drowning though. I doubt that will help your current situation."
A pause.
"I really...Alright. Fine. She is. I've never met another woman, another person, quite like her before. It's almost like she is getting enjoyment out of watching me struggle and fight through this." He sighed and turned to grab the soap and shampoo to hand into Faustite when he noed the lack of figure, or, standing figure anyway.
"Are you alrightHe questioned worridely. With a hand gripping the shampoo he dared peel back the curtain some to find Faustite sitting, crouched, at the bottom of the tub. "Geez, don't scare me like that. I thought you had fallen or something." He heaved a heavy breath of relief.
"Maybe a bath would have been better than trying to stand for an entire shower." He reached out to give Faustite a hand to stand up again. The water, once at scalding hot temperature, now pricked his hand with a coolness that would be anything but enjoyable for someone of a normal internal body temperature wanting a rellazing shower. An instant regret passed through him as the arm of his sleeves veru quickly became wet and soaked through from the deluge.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2018 3:59 pm
|
|
|
|
"She is for now. Until you bore her." Faustite sighed a steamy breath into the shower. It percussed his pipes in its singsong thrum. "After that… She'll find a way to make you interesting again."
Faustite had yet to hear of an unfortunate accident under Schörl's watch, but he imagined she filed those failed officers away in explanations airtight and unquestionable. If ever someone showed interest in their past, perhaps those people disappeared to. Who was to say? The Green General entertained a proper mystery about herself. Never would she allow an outright yes or no unless to further that mystery.
Heliodor's interjection was received blithely. "My legs gave out. I'm exhausted." He spoke the words matter-of-factly, as if to describe the appraisal of working machinery parts. The statement was warranted — a weariness snuck into the tone and volume of his voice. It etched into parts of him and aged him, albeit temporarily. Lines crinkled at the corners of starless eyes, formed parentheses around his mouth, and sallow slopes sunk below his cheekbones. For once, he looked more the age he acted. Yet the water beat on and on and on, promising to soak the youth back into his face. He posited no obections to its cooling drum.
Faustite watched Heliodor's helping hand loom into view, quickly becoming soaked, and paid it no heed. He looked instead to the smooth porcelain of the tub where grey water collected and roiled. Reflective in it were Heliodor's attempts. He did, however, accept the proffered soap and shampoo.
"I considered a bath. I decided I didn't want to marinate in my own filth. Now get in the shower," he stated, shutting his eyes momentarily. "It's easier. And less of a slipping hazard when I leave," he added, a c**k of his head confirming the quickly-growing puddle on the floor beneath Heliodor's arm.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 06, 2018 5:21 pm
|
|
|
|
Faustite never expected him to complain, and no complaints came of the young senshi. The curtain drew back, albeit briefly, and Aelius' form joined him in short. His blithe observation brought a wry smirk to Faustite's lips. "It should keep us both awake and alert. Focused," he added, his emphasis landing on the last word.
He consented to the grip that lofted him upright once more, though Aelius was to fight his way around unyielding pipes and rivulets of new smoke. He managed, however, and Faustite trusted most of his own weight to weary legs once more. But the proffered support was immensely helpful — the captain could chance a step without poor results — and more importantly, Aelius behaved himself. Even if their comparative strengths leveraged more toward Heliodor's side now, the senshi respected boundary. He needn't know the reason for it.
Wordlessly he handed back the shampoo; the gesture was confirmation enough. Faustite reached for the soap and began the slow, draining, plodding, grating, tine-consuming process of soaping away two weeks' worth of Rift grime from pale, cut-blemished skin. He began with shoulders, working away and into his soreness with the cheap bar. Peeling away were the memories of myriad chases — of sprinting past the groaning wood-monster and into the narrow ravine between two great juts of land. Soap traced over the long gash in his right arm, and he remembered the way he collided with the dusty cave floor. The way he left a short trail of black in his wake when he stumbled further into its treacherous confines. Further down he reached his chest, his waist, his pelvic girdle. With them came the reminder of the Rift's one river, ever flowing with aversion for life.
But the dusty greys of his own injuries swirled away into the drain. With them came the deep purple runoff from the Rift and all the filth produced in the interim.The experience was pleasantly humanizing; for all the time he spent away, he felt just as much that he could reclaim his roles seamlessly.
A thought struck him and he paused in the mindless motions. "When you tried to kill yourself," he began carefully, "did you feel any different afterward? Did anything change?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2018 9:49 pm
|
|
|
|
"Focused?" He said with a quirked brow. Faustite wouldn't be able to see the quirk of curiosity that lighted across the corrupts face. After all, he couldn't quite understand what the emphasis was for. Was there something that Helio (Now Aelius since disrobing not once but twice) had missed? Surely there hadn't been some unknown hint thrown out there? If so, it had passed completely over his head as he assisted the other young man to his feet and avoided smoking pipes in the process. It had been tricky, since Aelius had, naturally, wanted to lend support using his own body, but the metal additions protruding from the half-youma made that a very unwanted affair. Aelius had no desire of adding cuts or scrapes to his abdomen or chest for his effort
With the shampoo passed back, the silent instruction was simple enough. The bottle, white and blue in color, deposited a bright, sky blue liquid into his open palm when squeeze. The scent was nothing terribly floral, but did seem to have an overly pungent and highly forced 'clean' smell to it. It wasn't far off from laundry detergent, actually. Certainly not something Aelius would have chosen, but considering the supplies on hand, it would have to work. Maybe the strong scent would help overpower the stench of the Rift and Faustite's weeks of wallowing in his own filth.
While the black haired teen worked on scrubbing the grime from his epidermus, Aelius got to work on the oily mop of hair that was now well plastered to the head it grew from. A lather was quick to form, something that was expected from such low-grade shampoo, and quickly enough the locks were nearly swamped in the suds. Fingers massaged the scalp, trying to scrub away anything that might have made it's home in the Captains hair. Great care was taken to making sure that everything was cleansed. Maybe a double shampoo would be best. It certainly wouldn't hurt.
Fingers stopped their motions for a moment before slowly, and less enthusiastically, began again with a hesitant response. "Yes...and no." Without much thought he began his massaging again. "At first, there wasn't. I mean, nothing past the point of knowing that I much rather live than die. How I lived and how I went about living weren't forefront thoughts, I just....knew that I didn't actually want to end my life. I regretted the decision. Felt ashamed that I let myself fall as far as I did. It was an internal decision that wasn't easy to verbally or physically confirm to others. I know I said it was a mistake back when I was in that hospital, but I doubt there was much conviction in my words. At least, I don't remember it being there."
Pausing, he took a moment to scrub behind Faustite's ears, aware it was probably his responsibility to get that area clean too.
"Since then it's been a bit of a mental struggle, but yes. There's been a change. My want to live has forced me to try and look at things differently. Try not to let myself fall into the darkness of my mind that led me to that encounter witht he Knight." A shiver ran down his body again and he licked at lips tasting the sweetness of the water on them. "I realized that if I want to live, really live, I needed to step forward and try not to dwell so much on my past." A wry smile spread across his face. "You helped with that, of course. Since then I feel a bit lighter. More....open."
He removed fingers from a head that was well massaged and so lathered that white nearly overcame the black of the hair. "You can rinse off now. I may do another cleaning though just to be sure you're good to go."
"I am not sure if I answered your question in my rambling. If not, you'll need to be a bit more specific." The smile could be heard his voice. "Running on little sleep makes it hard to keep my thoughts straight at times."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2018 2:26 pm
|
|
|
|
As fingers roamed through his hair, Faustite closed his eyes to the sensation. Inward came a rush, a flourish, a brief font of goosefleshed feeling. He paused in his own careful scrubbing to feel it in full — it overpowered weariness for a while. It promised refreshment in a way that chemically engineered shampoo scents could not. No citrus blossom invigorating bar soap could compete.
Fingers slipped back and Faustite humed his loose recognition that Heliodor was still talking. His cadence jumped around, first edging out slowly before working into his more natural rhythm. That cadence contrasted heavily with the fingers behind his ears, which never once faltered.
Two weeks. Two weeks he spent in the Rift, in the thick of its visceral landscapes where his survival was under threat. Where eating was a privilege he could not observe. Where dehydration was stypied by the basest means. Where thought was a luxury better left to languish. He was not touched there but for the fights encountered. And now, in the bowels of this decrepit, derelict bathroom, his own subordinate evoked these forgotten veils of intimacy. Pressing his soapslicked palms to his eyes, he breathed a long and careful sigh. He cared little for the mixed taste of relief against the Rift's austere influence.
When Aelius mentioned rinsing, he still tasted the residual pangs of paradox in the back of his throat. Mulling over that revulsion, Faustite tipped his head silently under the steady downpour. Rinsed suds ran black in visible rivulets. He spat once into the drain. Briefly his hand ran through the tousled mass, singled out a strand, and felt it between fingers. "It's still a mess. Go over it again." The sour grime was rinced back onto the tub floor.
Pensively he chewed his lower lip. And when he released it again, he resumed washing. The spell broke, the surreal sinews of interconnectivity tightened down again to work. "I remember that. Working so long and so often that I only thought of food, water, sleep. How life revolves around those three things. How a simple command like 'wash my hair' gives a minute's reprieve from dwelling on it.
"But." The qualifier lingered for a moment. "No sleep put you in better spirits, didn't it? Finish up." Schörl left Aelius no time to dwell on the doldrums of his no-longer-ostentatious life. Faustite hadn't time to spare for his ceaseless search for revelation, either.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 17, 2018 8:49 pm
|
|
|
|
“I suppose it did.” He didn’t hesitate. With the command given, Auelis grabbed the bottle from the small shelf off to the side and squirted more of the shampoo into his hand. Rubbing hands together before sinking fingers back into wet, black locks, Aelius felt himself sigh as another shiver ran through his body. As oddly pleasing as this whole situation was, the cooler water was far from enjoyable the longer he stayed in it. Thankfully, Faustite was taking the full brunt force of the spray, but Aelius certainly wasn’t neglected by the shower head.
A protest was on the tip of his tongue but in an instant it was gone. It suddenly seemed to wearisome to bring up. This shower, after all, wasn’t about him, but Faustite. He was the one that needed to be comfortable, not Aelius.
Still a little nagging voice couldn’t help but long for the warm, calming heat of a hot shower. Aelius was also well aware that he’d likely fall asleep standing there and that wouldn’t help matters. So instead, the purple-haired youth lost himself in the rhythmic motions his fingers made on Faustite’s head. He paused at moment, concentrating in areas he thought he may have neglected the first time around. Needless to say, Faustite’s hair and scalp was getting quite the cleansing and, having noted the contented sigh earlier, Aelis made a point to venture fingers back to the more petite’s man’s ears where he lingered just a bit longer.
Blinking, he came out of the content daze he fell into while focusing his energy and efforts on Faustite. “I think you’re good for another rinse.” He said, finally breaking the silence.
The suds and grime ran down Faustite’s body when the young man leaned in to rinse once again. Golden eyes followed those suds over the bony figure in front of him as Aelius dared a moment to step back to let the foam fully rinse away. He studied the way pipes protruded from his Captains back, one of sure-fire signs that the young man in front of him wasn’t ‘normal’ to most people’s standards. They were fascinating how they seemed so well integrated into the man’s body. Pale flesh looked stark against the steel though, and Aelius reached out to let fingers run lightly down the half-youma’s spine between the sets of metal stopping just before the crest of buttocks.
“How are you doing with your pipes and the shower?” He questioned quietly as water dripped from the edge of one of the top pipes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 17, 2018 10:10 pm
|
|
|
|
The second round left him in charge enough of his faculties that he slicked soap through the rest of his filth. More black joined the drain, more thin sparks from touch bolstered his spirits. More and more the scent of cheap cleanliness penetrated bodily squalor. He felt, ironically, human again. And as he saw white skin without the mar of black blood or Rift grime, the progress both exhausted and elated him. To know touch and talk again was a reward too cherished to lose twice.
He stepped forward beneath the chilly blast to wick the rest away. Finally he was clean enough that he wouldn't smell himself —
Shocked from thought, goosebumps rose at Aelius' beckon. Faustite set his jaw; he straightened and half-turned to speak with his subordinate when the dull song of metal shifted to a drowning roar. He sidestepped toward Aelius as fear turned its hypervigilant eye to any pressure to his breaths. But as his too-thin hand chased to his chest, as his heart railed its panic against xylophone bones, he felt nothing worse than swimming in a pool. What pressure there was proved negligible. Faustite chalked the disruption to Aelius' fortune. He settled for a neutral warning, too tired and too distant from the moment to follow through with original reaction. "Don't touch unless you're told to."
He did, however, feel back to the thin swell of skin about one of the pipes. "I'm not drowning," he answered, troubled, "but there's water in my chest." A strange feeling, he decided. Like he swallowed water down with too much air and went for a jog — he felt it shift somewhere behind his lungs with the nebulous promise of strange damages. If he let it sit, would he get pneumonia? And how would he remove it but through a handstand? Maybe lying on his side was enough.
Faustite cut the water in a quick flick of his wrist, and joining the draining water was a last few clear droplets from his hair and arms. He still felt exhausted, if vaguely reinvigorated. If still floating atop the deep contemplation he would inevitably face. There would be change, he supposed, and he would feel different. Perhaps only slightly. Perhaps greatly. Even Heliodor faced a change after his near-death experience; Faustite should be no different.
He looked back toward his subordinate, now brooking shivers on his side of the tub. "Get us some towels." A quick glance downward, then he added: "you look cold." He failed to stifle a bit of mirth.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 19, 2018 4:45 pm
|
|
|
|
Faustite shrugged blithely, still using the faucet head for support. "There's always caning." A stark motivator, Heliodor earned himself seventy canings through repeated misunderstanding of their superior officer. That he still walked was testament to starseeds and their potent healing property. And, he hoped, Heliodor learned to better brush up on his reading comprehension lest he run into similar questions.
But he made a habit of misunderstanding Schörl now. First as Rowan, now as Heliodor. Why would that change?
The consideration fell away with the towel received, and Faustite pressed his face into the smooth cloth. Its scent spoke of cheap chemical drying agents — an acidic, powdery floral with undertones of mechanized spring rain. His twin in industriousness. Smiling into the cloth, he then pulled it away to squeeze the water from his hair in firm grasps, like a hand on a threatening throat. Much of the water soaked clear, leaving only the slight and painterly greys he expected out of any bathing activity. Much of that came from the condensation dripping off the metal.
When he finished, pausing ever carefully for his rickety support, he wrapped the towel about his waist. He stepped out with both hands clutched to Aelius' arm. The slip was there — light, polite, ineffective. A shift forward and he caught the rest of his momentum on his subordinate's arm. Righting himself was a simple matter.
When he was certain he could trust his legs again, he spoke. "You have another task. A simple one. One that won't provoke any misunderstandings." Unless he preferred seeing Schörl for punishments, in which Faustite would not bar him that pleasure. "Watch me sleep. If I start sleepwalking, stop me. Use your magic if you need it, but don't let me leave." His hands still lingered in Aelius' grip, expectant of some balk to Faustite's command. But he would not brook argument for this.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
