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).]
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Oh... hello, Your Majesty.
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It's never really ending, but they are... I am quite fond of them, so I can't complain. Would you mind if I joined you? The water looks lovely.
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Anything? Truly?
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You're free to share in a drink and a nibble with me as well.
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[He slides over so he can reach the cheese, making a delighted sound at the taste- man it sure would suck if he lost his sense of taste later on or something like that hahaha]
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And either way, he chuckles lightly at Lion's delight.] I take it you approve of my luxurious choices so far.
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The further away his requests get from "things you might need in a bath", the wonkier they get. Size, in addition, seems to play a part in making them come out strange and anything big enough that he'd need two hands to comfortably lift it seems to be about the maximum limit of what the bathhouse can produce.
If he makes too many requests in a row, he'll find that they simply stop showing up, but after about five or ten minutes things will start working again. ]
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(He may have to start a rubber duck collection, though.)
Outside of the actual bath, is there...anyone at all? If he (covered up!!!) goes looking where staff might normally be, or even...gasp, back in places the public normally wouldn't get to go, like a boiler room, if there is one... Is there anyone/anything amiss other than how weird it is to have an unstaffed wish-granting bathhouse?]
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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. ]
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Oh, hm... would you mind if I...?
[He gestures to his eye patch. The water isn't good for it, but he knows it's not pretty to look at either]
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[And he means it, but obviously he's not healing something like that. He pours out more wine.]
I had only wanted something to drink myself, and this appeared. I seem to like it quite a bit. It's a bit...indulgent, but if the bathhouse provides...
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[He slides it off, and in the brief moment before he turns away again it's clear the eye itself is missing, thanks to the slight concave of his lid. And the skin around it is scarred... in a way that suggested intent, not some accident or beast attack.]
Perhaps the place has some kind of insight into our likes?