Ardyn "fuck that guy" Millionlastnames (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
schardynfreude) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cancry2020-08-15 10:28 pm
schardynfreude) wrote in cancry2020-08-15 10:28 pm
bathhouse investigation/chill hangout
[The bathhouse just feels right to him, more than a modern shower or bathtub, though he can hardly say why. Except, perhaps, that it feels absolutely amazing. He isn't shy at all about stripping down to nothing, all lean and toned muscles, his Executor symbol all but branded in the center of his torso, and taking a dip into water that is positively divine. Just the right temperature, not too hot nor lukewarm, to ease any aches and just to relax. The scent is lightly floral, nothing overpowering, merely reminiscent of a gentle breeze through a field of flowers.
If any of his fellow men or non-/agendered folk arrive, he remains relaxed and raises a hand in greeting.]
Oh, this is just marvelous; do join me. I promise the water is more than fine.
[And if, gods forbid, any of the women or distinctly underage of his fellows arrive, he will sink lower into the water and, embarrassed, attempt to direct them to the other side of the bathhouse.
The curious thing is the lack of staff, for one. Not even Specters? Who or what keeps the water heated to perfection? Who does the washing of towels? And yet, when he closes his eyes, relaxing, and considers something idly he might want--drat, he didn't pick up any shampoo, for instance--then there it is when he opens his eyes again, sitting nearby. A fine soap, some tremendously fluffy towels in a deep scarlet shade, a bottle and half-full glass of red wine.
That last one was mostly an idle experiment, but there it sits. His brows furrow as he sips it (oh, and he quite likes it), and goes further. He'll see if there's some kind of limit on what his thoughts procure, or if things perhaps start to go awry like in the conbini.
He may just have to explore the rest of the building, but not until after he's thoroughly washed and dried (and toweled if not clothed again).]
If any of his fellow men or non-/agendered folk arrive, he remains relaxed and raises a hand in greeting.]
Oh, this is just marvelous; do join me. I promise the water is more than fine.
[And if, gods forbid, any of the women or distinctly underage of his fellows arrive, he will sink lower into the water and, embarrassed, attempt to direct them to the other side of the bathhouse.
The curious thing is the lack of staff, for one. Not even Specters? Who or what keeps the water heated to perfection? Who does the washing of towels? And yet, when he closes his eyes, relaxing, and considers something idly he might want--drat, he didn't pick up any shampoo, for instance--then there it is when he opens his eyes again, sitting nearby. A fine soap, some tremendously fluffy towels in a deep scarlet shade, a bottle and half-full glass of red wine.
That last one was mostly an idle experiment, but there it sits. His brows furrow as he sips it (oh, and he quite likes it), and goes further. He'll see if there's some kind of limit on what his thoughts procure, or if things perhaps start to go awry like in the conbini.
He may just have to explore the rest of the building, but not until after he's thoroughly washed and dried (and toweled if not clothed again).]
no subject
There's nothing else really of note in the bathhouse! There's a Specter at the front desk doing Generic Receptionist Duties but there's nobody else around. The only really odd thing is that there doesn't seem to be any other areas of the bathhouse apart from the public facing ones – no boiler room, no staff areas, nothin'. Probably best not to think about it too hard. ]