Completed [Soothing Waters] Bathing in the Morning

[Millicent]

Fall 72 513

Taking deep breaths, Millicent calmed herself down after waking. Like grasping for water, she tried to hold on the fragments of her nightmare only to have them flow away. Even after the last remnant had faded, she laid in bed debating whether to get up or go back to sleep. The faint flickering of the last dying ember s cast the only source of light in the room, but that meant anything in Stormhold.

Groggily she sat up in bed, and wiped the sleep from her eyes. Last night, she had not slept well. There where little sounds that this room made that the one she shared with her “uncle” had not. As much as those sounds startled her, they also remained her of what was going on. Her stomach tossed back and forth like the waves of the ocean. They crashed into her sides with fear of what had happened and what was going to happen to her. Then they receded with excitement and promise of a new beginning. In her find she felt paralyzed between this brand new world and the previous one.

She winced as her feet touched the cold stone floor. I need to get a rug She thought visualizing the one in her “uncle’s” room. Her bed was in the corner opposite the hearth. She had moved it there when she first moved in because that is where she was accustomed to it being. Frowning, Millicent considered moving the bed, but decided against it. Part of her got very worried that her “uncle” would be upset if she did.

Feeling her legs tremble, she sat back down on the bed. “What am I going to do?” She sobbed burying her head in her hands. She felt so helpless, her “uncle”, the person that took care of her, and had been there since before she could remember was gone. Not only that but she could so nothing to protect or help him. Biting her lip, she found herself starting to give into the darkness of despair. It would be too easy to give up now. Just lie in this dark for now.

"no" She uttered from deep inside. This was the only time she could move on. If she did not move now, she would never be able to. I will find him someday Millicent promised herself, as she stood up. Today, I will move forward. Today I walk on my own. Dressing herself, she slide her white mask on to the back of her head, and slipped out the door.

The crowds of people quickly swallowed Millicent like some giant fish and pulled her along. By the number of people hurrying along there way, Millicent knew that it must morning. Growing up the city, she was use to the number of people hustling and bustling about. She smiled brightly at all of them, though she was not able to hide the worry in her eyes.

At first she had no clue where she was going and just let the crowd pull her along. After having made the same block several times though, she was able to come up with a decision. It was a new day, and a new dawn, so it would best be started with a bath.

Making her way to Soothing Waters was simple enough. She had been there a million times as a child and knew the way fairly well. Getting to the Spa, she paid the receptionist for a bath and laundry on all her cloths.

Millicent stepped gingerly into the large common pool, giving her body time to adjust. Slowly she sunk lower into the pull, till she she was up to her neck in water. Her worries seem to fade away as she soaked. Not thinking about anything, she just swam around the northern end of the pool.

She smiled and waved away any attendants that approached her. After a minute or two, she looked around at the other guests and smiled but otherwise minding her own business.

[Wrenmae]

Bathing was a luxury Wren did not often enjoy. Between the forest pools and frigid streams that ran between here and Nyka, the storyteller often let the dust of the road cling to his body like a familiar friend. When he did have the opportunity to enter an establishment for bathing, he often did so only with the utmost caution. His body was a testament to his past of violence, the scissoring scars of torture that reached across his chest and the places parted by blades left by Rhysol as a reminder of where he'd come from. But it wasn't the contours of latticed sliver-lines, the brands of his ordeals...it was the marks the gods had seen fit to grant him that lent caution to his purposes.

The mark of Rhysol, like an angry welt, pulsed on the side of his neck. Perpetually bandaged it no less was a troublesome reminder of how dangerous this city could be to him. The spiral of Sagallius on the inside of his right arm, the second mark of Vayt at the base of his spine, and the angry waves of Laviku's curse upon his right shoulder and breast told a story of services rendered, and disappointments received at the hands of the gods.

Still, he had grown tired of the grime that clung to him and the shape of his facial hair as it cascaded over his lips and off his chin. So after binding his neck with linen, the pretense at a wound, and another across Sagallius's mark and Vayt's, he entered the Soothing Waters.

He had to check his weapons and clothes at the door, a promise by those there that they would be cleaned for him if he offered a few extra mizas for the expense. Wren willingly offered them and stepped out into the common bath. Borrowing a small razor to shave his face, he brazenly strode beside the pool till he found a spot he wanted to slip in. Nakedness was rapidly becoming something that no longer bothered him. His form was already so used to the shifting idles of a morpher that he could have entered as a woman and thought nothing of it.

Part of him still clung to his identity as a male, certainly his sexual preferences remained firmly rooted in the soft curvature of a female, but in reality he had no need to shave. In honesty he could simply withdraw the whiskers into himself at will.

But there was something in feeling human, in feeling in control.

The light and steam rising off the water reflected against his sliver-white scars, the angry mark of Laviku moving of its own accord...silent, furious waves.

He settled into the pool with a sigh, immersing himself in the taste of steam as it rose up from the water and into his nose. Water...one of the last elements he had yet to grasp in reimancy. Certainly it was one that eluded him the most...how easily it fit into whatever carried it...the sheer versatility used simply to cater to another's will.

Zan would have something to say about it, surely, but Wren didn't give him an opportunity to talk.

He was interested, for now, to enjoy the soak and plan for his eventual departure from Syliras.

Not even the insistent angry thrashing of the curse mark on his body could distract him. The water was not Laviku's, and he worried about no predator seeking him out beneath the waves.

[Milartek]

It was by chance that Milartek stumbled upon Soothing waters. He had been away from his birthplace for less than a season, but felt it much longer. He seemed to have grown vastly in that time. And not all for the good. Artek was becoming more prominent, and it was becoming harder and harder to suppress him.

In fact it was the main reason he was up so early and passing the vast stronghold. He needed to think of ways to control his emotions. When he got too emotional Artek would seize the turmoil to appear and over whelm. Sometimes Milartek gained control quickly. Others it took a lot longer.

He carried on walking lost in his thoughts. He wasn't sure were he was going, the big stronghold still confused him with its layout. The large double doors didn't look familiar, and he wasn't sure he had been down the staircase before either. However his problems soon tugged away the curiosity from his mind and he was drawn back to his problems.

But before he could get back to them proper a voice startled him out of his contemplation and he looked up shocked to see a man standing behind a desk a large smile on his face asking him how he could help him today.

Milartek stared at him blankly, racking his brain to try and work out were he was. After almost half a chime of an awkward but smiley, mainly from the man, silence he relented and asked were he was.

"I'm very sorry but I was completely lost within my own mind. I know it sounds startling but. Where am I?"

To his amazement the main didn't seem phased and professionally replied that he was at the reception to soothing waters and did he require a massage, or maybe a relaxing bathe that may help him to think.

Milartek paused. Maybe that was exactly what he needed! A fresh body and a fresh mind. After all, it was a while since he bathed properly and his body ached from the training he was putting himself through.

Before he really knew it he had paid the money, left his weapons at reception, and made his way into the changing rooms. He slipped off his clothes, wrapped the towel round his waist and made his way into the communal baths.

Not that he was aware they were communal, but if he was thinking bout it, it made sense. There were a few people already in the baths and he almost felt self conscious about bathing with others. But the water looked clean and warm, and he soon found himself slipping down into the warm steaming water, the worry already slipping from him.

[Millicent]

Millicent was getting very comfortable in the bath and the sleeplessness of last night was trying to catch up with her. She had almost entered a daze before she noticed someone else had slipped into the water near her. Looking up, she noticed that the man was heavily scared and had several bandaged wounds. While she did not know who he was, she immediately felt concern for him. Still it seems rude to her to just swim up and bother him. He is probably in a lot of pain and does not want to be bothered. She rationalized but was unable to convince herself. I am sure the staff has taken good care of him

Dismissing it from her mind, she went back to bathing, but it still bothered her slightly. Occasionally she would look over at the man to make sure he was alright. While always smiling, her eyes betrayed a slight nervousness. She did not really understand why, but something nagged and bothered her about it. Someone could be in pain and I am ignoring them because I am scared to be rude Mentally she chided herself.

Another man, seemed to nervously getting into the pool. He was huge, with dark blue skin and blue eyes that made Millicent shiver form an imagined cold. She had never seen anyone like him before and her curiosity was immediately peeked. He is probably very lonely it occurred to her judging form the way her entered and how he looked.

Decided not to let fear of being rude be an excuse this time, she swam up to the man. “ Hi, how are you? I am Millicent.” She said smiling as brightly as she could. “ There is no need to be nervous, everyone here is really, and not just because they are paid to be” She said with a little giggle, looking up into his face. “Hope you don't mind me saying this, but you are huge.”

She sat there beside him waiting for a response, have expecting to be turned away. Unexpectedly she felt a surge of guilt. How can I be some mean She thought to herself. I can't prioritize one stranger over another. The guilt came crashing in like a wave had occurred in the pool. “Uhmmm I am sorry, give me just a second, or you can come with me if you want.” Millicent said to the large man with a slightly nervous smile.

Taking a deep breath she swam back over to the injured person. “I am sorry to bother you and I apologize if this sounds rude, but are you alright?” She ask her voice trembling a little out of nervousness. The neck wound held her attention the most. While, she was no doctor, she did know enough about human anatomy to know neck wounds where very dangerous.

She looked him over carefully and took notice of all the scars. She could not begin to fathom how someone could get hurt so much. “I don't mean to pry but are you a Knight?” She ask that being the only profession in her experience that could get such wounds. If he was a knight, she was going to feel even worse about not talking to him sooner.

[Altaira Readva]

It was only Altaira's third time within the Soothing Waters, despite having entered the city some half a season ago, and claiming to be rather picky in terms of hygiene. She found that the place was very much as it always was, the crowds slightly more in bulk than she should usually see at such a bell in the morning - well, slightly more in bulk than she'd so far experienced. 'My first day off in what feels like an eternity, and it seems I can't spend it in quiet peace.' She gave a bitter sigh as she continued the transaction, unwilling to make her journey to the bathes one for no reason.

She took in a shallow breath, eyeing those already within the bath. A rather talkative young woman was happily swimming about, a look of slight confusion and nervousness taking her expression as she attempted conversation with the two other patrons. Altaira stalled for a moment, debating whether or not she could join in the would-be conversation, or whether it would serve better to leave them to their own devices.

Her brow furrowed, but she thought little more of imposing herself and quickly slipped into the bath. Her kelvic blood had her think nothing of a lack of clothing, though she often went with the common human courtesy of remaining dressed when in the company of those who were offended by such 'untasteful' - as some often called them - actions. She sighed heavily, allowing the warmth of the water to take her over, and completely take over the slight late Autumn chill that crept across her olive skin.

She gave a cursory smile to the others, before leaning her head back and heavily exhaling. "It's been far too long since my last bath," She mused, mostly to herself, as though more than a dozen days had passed. Her expression then broke into a small smile, and she settled herself down comfortably. "Forgive me for interrupting, but i'd appreciate it if someone were to throw a splash in my direction should it appear I am at a risk of falling asleep and drowning." It was a joke, of course. Well, mostly. If anything it was to ensure she did not appear as some cold hearted woman who entered a somewhat light atmosphere, only to turn it heavy and awkward as she silently glared at the roof and pondered Gods-know-what.

[Wrenmae]

Latticed in a network of steam and warmth, Wren allowed himself to relax. It was a cocoon of sorts, rejuvinating his tired body and carving away the dirt and dust that had clung to him since Ravok. Over his right shoulder, the angry waves of Laviku's curse shimmered across his skin, roiling in perpetual turmoil despite the warmth of the hot springs around him. He could not see the mark from where he was, but he could almost feel its wrath...seeking out a watery creature to come and punish the interloper.

Instead he was calmed.

With tentative fingers he began to work along the lines of muscle on his body, pressing gingerly around the silver scars that crossed his chest. Pressure that brought relief to tired muscle, and he resisted the urge to sigh aloud. Truly, he did not take care of himself nearly enough. The hot waters were an indication of his world-weary body...how easily it sunk, how little it fought. Surely if one of his enemies came at him now, he'd be hard pressed to raise a hand in defense.

There were worst ways to die than in comfort.

From beyond his closed eyes, a voice tugged at his conscience, prompting him to open an eye and stare at the girl who had swam within easy distance of him with hardly a ripple.

Or perhaps he was simply too relaxed to be alert, there was always that.

When she finished speaking, he ponderously raised his head and blinked at her. For a moment he simply let her words settle on his ears, seeping into his mind with lethargic conviction. Finally, he shook his head slowly with a small smile.

"My wounds are old enough to be memories now," he said to her quietly, chuckling, "My body remembers them, but I am not in any immediate danger."

He laid his head back on the stone again, taking in a deep breath that set the strange black tattoo across his right breast ripple with indignant anger, "I am not so dissimilar to the Knights," He said at last, thoughtfully, "Perhaps not so bound by their code, but I provide a similar service." Lifting up his head again, he winked at her.

"Sellsword, you might call me. My skill with a weapon is valuable in a world of such dysfunction, and I have no knightly vows to prevent me from all kinds of clients."

He noted the other woman, unabashedly nude, and the Akalak, as imposing as his skin was perplexing.

Company. It was no matter. He grinned at the girl almost wolfishly, "Might you need some protection? I can't imagine how safe you could feel with nothing on or near at hand."

[Milartek]

The young warrior was drawn out of his thoughts by the high pitched greeting of a fellow bather. The woman, or girl for she looked for young, spoke to him as though they had already met. She told him not to be nervous and added as an afterthought that he was very big.

He wasn't sure what to make of the observations. Had his mood been that clear? Was he that poor at hiding his feelings? Well the final observation was easy enough to understand after all, he was fairly large.

He sighed slightly at the thought of replying to someone when all he really needed to do was have some time to think, but as he turned to rely to the girl she had made her excuses and bounded off towards another man.

The man she went to looked like he had been through a war. Recently. He wore bandages and his body wore obvious scars. The Milartek listen with curiosity as the two exchanged pleasantries. The man was sell sword. A Mercenary. If his appearance was to anything to go by he was one with a lot of experience.

Intrigued Milartek made his way cautiously over, until he was in earshot of the pair.

"You didn't give me time to introduce myself. I am Milartek. May I ask your names?

[Millicent]

Millicent let out a small sigh and felt a small weight lift from her upon hearing the man was fine. Why are you so worried about him? She ask herself a question that she had no answer for. For a brief moment her felt sick, like she had done something horrible. In the next second, the feeling was gone. Subconsciously, she reached around to the back of her head to pull around a mask that was not there. She must have looked silly with her blank stare and mouth hanging slightly open, as her hand dropped slowly from the back of her head.

Recovering with a shake of her head, she put a smile back on her face and redirected her attention to the scarred mans eyes. “Sorry, I lost myself for a second.” She said, as she stuck her tongue out and lightly tapped her forehead with her palm.”You where saying you are a sell-sword right?” Her mind raced as she tried to put back the pieces of what he just said.

Sometime during this she noticed that her attention had drifted from his face to stare at the odd pulsating scar on his chest. Her arms give a slight tremble ans her breathing increase slightly as goosebumps spread across her body. It almost felt like it was drawing her in, making her think of crashing waves breaking on stony rocks. Her arms moved to cover her body as she suddenly felt exposed to a great raging storm. Biting her lip and furrowing her brow, she pulled her attention away from the scar.

Again the man speaking and her mind rushed to catch up. While she she barely caught what he had said, she took all the meaning she needed from the tone. Her face turned a far deeper pink than the warm water could cause and her ears burn like a candle. “No , no.... I am sorry.... I don't think I will need such services.” She stammered backing away from the man. It occurred to her that she had been staring at the man's breast, and her ears suddenly where torches . “yeah,... umm excuse me, I need to go over here and.....drown myself now.” She continued to stammer as her face tried to invent a new tint of red. “.....Good Day.”

Oh perfect timing She grumbled hearing Milartek introduce himself. Putting on her fake smile, she turned to him. “Oh, sorry, I am such a dummy head today.” She said “I am Millicent, and I am afraid I must be rude to you again. As I just said, there is a drowning I must attend to.” Using this excuse, she slipped away from the two men and unintentionally drifted to the woman who had just joined them.

Then just as she said, she took a deep breath and submerged her whole body in the warm water. She hoped somehow all of this would be a dream. The warm water caused her to relax and let go of the embarrassment. Her chest ached to breath, but she forced herself to say just a little longer. Opening her eyes, she lost what little air she had left. Directly in front of her was a nice pair of very feminine breasts. I hate all of you. A thought flashed in red though her mind. She surfaced no less pink than she had entered. Gasping for breath she tried to give the woman an apologetic look. “I am never leaving my room again.”

[Altaira Readva]

While she couldn't claim that she was completely oblivious to the conversation that had thus far occurred, Altaira couldn't say she quite understood the flow of words, either. Most of her stay so far had been with her eyes towards the ceiling, taking in the patterning on the roof, and wondering how the steam that was billowing above would feel against her feathers. Even still, there were odd fragments that she'd heard more than a simple half-listen, either brought to her attention by an increase in the speaker's loudness, or because of a break in their rhythm.

The first of which breaks in rhythm was the scarred man, who promptly earned a confused scowl from the kelvic when he voiced something she took as a rather vulgar thought. She let her eyes rake over the scarred man, having found that she didn't do so much when she first entered, and wasn't too sure what to make of him, save for the bitter sigh she gave at his wolfish look. Her gaze then fell to the younger woman with whom the man spoke, the lively one who seemed keen on conversation when Altaira entered. She regarded her for a moment, pursing her lips as she prepared to make a comment on her behalf, in no way liking the way she seemed horridly discomforted by the man's words.

She quickly found that no real interruption was necessary, giving a light giggle of amusement when the younger woman stammered on and held somewhat on her own. Altaira's star returned to the scene above, not too fussed on becoming a gawking onlooker, but neither wishing to leave the younger woman without a link, and still listening keenly to her muddled words, watching on for any sign or tell that perhaps an intervention would be required. There was a fine line between mothering and smothering, and although there a myriad of thoughts and instincts welling within her to join the fray, neither did she wish to come off as imposing. Until, at least, she knew the sandy haired one's name.

The second time that Altaira let her line of sight drop from above to the group conversing was the introduction of a knew voice and tone, and she could seldom help herself but sticky beak shortly as she linked name to voice to face. Once that little cautionary check was complete, and she was satisfied that a third party had joined - one that she judged to be far less suspicious than the wolfish human - she let her eyes drift to a close and she allowed herself to loosen up.

A moment or so more she was furthered stirred by the sound of moment, and her eyebrow arched rather worrisome as the younger woman, Millicent, drifted absently her way. There was an instant that she considered speaking a word or two, but thought what she considered better than it, only to have Millicent shortly startle herself when she was squarely in front of her. She let out a light giggle at the proclamation given to her, and the unneeded look of apology. "You don't need to hide away to save yourself face and harm." Altaira mused, tilting her head slightly as she noted, among other things, the blazing color of the other's cheeks, but not forgetting to shoot the core reason for her embarrassment a distasteful look.

"But it doesn't help to be prepared for what, or who, may be thrown at you." She gave a warm smile, careful not to add further to the scarlet fluster, though she doubted that such was possible. "Millicent, is it? My own name is Altaira, by the way."

[Wrenmae]

Wren let his smile linger on the girl as she retreated, blood boiling in her cheeks. The women of Syliras and their propriety...not a one would last a moment in Sunberth. Chuckling, he followed her over to the other woman, imperiously giving silent voice to her opinions of the exchange by way of expression.

His eyes turned to the Akalak, regarding his approach with vapid caution. It wasn't as though he felt at all in danger in this place. All weapons had been removed, yes, but a mage was never weaponless, never truly. Even so, stranger attacks had happened to him before and the muscled giant reminded him of another he left burned and near dead in that rat-heap of a city.

"Milartek," he tested the name with his mouth and shrugged, pushing himself up from the water as the curse gnosis on his right breast roiled with impotent rage, "Far from home, I think. Do you serve the Knights then?" Imass was one of his kind, although he was the only one Wren had seen before in the coat of steel the Knights often rode out in.

"Wrenmae," he pushed an index finger into his own chest, "But that's hardly important. I'm not long for the city and my name is not nearly as good as my blade, which is the only way my name continues anyways." He laughed, a short bark of mirth. "Blood for bread and all that. So few of us left and we still pay each other to murder."

Behind him, unaware, the Mirror of Akash shimmered in the warm glow. The cursed blade had followed him, as it always did, reappearing near its wielder as if a late herald to his arrival. It took the form of a long dagger, cracked and rusted along the blade with a slight green film of what could be poison. the hilt was the depiction of some strange skeletal winged horror, vaguely woman with many faces twisted in hissing agony. One arm held a rose against her chest, pierced with thorns, the other drove a dagger through her heart. It was a ghastly thing, and remarkable that no one had noticed it before. But it lay behind the Sellsword plainly, idle.

He didn't pursue the girl to her new companion, letting her cheeks blaze the passage of her route from him to her. It was all in good fun after all, he was feeling far too relaxed to be upset.