Difference between revisions of "Logs:Post-Apokidlyptic Clean-Up"

Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr

Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup.

The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes.

It has been about half an hour since a small group of candidates was terrorized by the Weyr's small children. Since then, Kaeden has managed to bathe himself and dress in clothing not soiled by a toddler's bodily functions. Now, in the area of the baths a little less inundated with steam, he's propped a rough rectangle of polished stone on one of the shelves and has his little stash of supplies set up nearby so he can start prepping for the morning shave. The stone doesn't offer a true mirror, but it's enough to help him keep his blade away from his own jugular. At the moment, though, he's just whipping some soap and water into a froth.

Ceawlin has not-so-different ideas from Kaeden, emerging from a morning bath to end up very near the other Candidate with a towel around his waist. Now, his facial hair is sparse on a good day and patchy/uneven on a not-so-good day. Curse the fairness of body hair! Side-glance to Kaeden, brief nod, then he turns about doing that very thing that boys on the cusp of manhood do: shaving. Or well, preparing to anyway.

"Hey," Kaeden offers to Ceawlin, though he barely gives the younger candidate more than a quick glance, just long enough for recognition. Content with the froth, he removes his shirt (wouldn't do to get soap on it), and starts to wet down his face before he starts brushing the soap lather into place with practiced ease. Unlike Ceawlin, Kaeden's hair is dark and thick, so going without the morning shave is Simply Not Done. Using the stone's reflection as a rough guide, he soon has those short whiskers fully covered in white.

"Yo," Ceawlin greets, distracted by his own lathering. Whereas Kaeden has no choice to shave, let's be honest, Ceawlin is doing this by choice. Otherwise, no one would probably ever notice the faint little baby hairs poking out of his face. With practiced precision -- it's a bit OCD, this motion -- he makes the first downward stroke across one cheek. The harper is antisocial; he's focused.

Turning this way and that, Kaeden ensures he's covered everything, then goes to work with his shaving blade. Two quick swipes on its honing strop, and away he goes. Soon enough, the only sounds in their little nook of the bathing area are the swishes made by Ceawlin's brush, the scrapes of Kaeden's blade over whiskers, and the occasional water rinse and stropping rub.

Not so lucky as Kaeden in getting out of the nursery, Nicky follows considerably later. He's holding out his tunic with a disgusted look on his face, trying to keep the soiled fabric away from his skin. Once he's safely into the steam of the baths he - as carefully as possible - peels the shirt up, tugging it from behind the neck to keep the puke-stain away from his face. There's gagging when he's finally free of it, and the coltish teen discards it in the laundry pile without a second look before meandering over to where his fellow candidates are. "You got out at the r-right time," he says softly to Kaeden, with a greeting nod to Ceawlin. Stepping to the side a little, he kicks off his shoes, drops his trousers, and hops into the nearest bath... with his underwear still on.

It's rather cathartic, this time in the bathing pools performing the morning rituals. The faint whoosh of breath into and out of lungs over the sounds of burbling water that drift up from the pools themselves. Occasionally, other folks come into and out of the baths; it's very mundane the morning tasks of getting ready. Ceawlin's actual shaving time is elongated by the sheer precision of movements. As with everything he does, the air of formality and perfection clings even to this simple act. Only a few brief glances are given to Kaeden's progress, notably when it's time to rinse the razor of lingering suds and finally when Nicky -- who earns the lift of one pale 'brow for his words -- interrupts the tranquility of the moment. Now, comes curiosity, but still no verbal commitment to interaction, though a brief nod of acknowledgement is given to fellow Candidate-Nicky before icy eyes return back to the task: getting through this without slicing one's skin open.

Kaeden pauses with his blade held just above his jawline, as he gives Nicky a side glance. "Man, you reek," he offers helpfully, though soon the lanky candidate is on his way into the water. In his skivvies. The look he then shares with Ceawlin says what he doesn't bother uttering out loud. Weird. He goes back to slow, steady scrapes of the knife. Half his face is now clear, though some lines of soap remain, possibly hiding some stray whiskers. While pausing to clean his blade and give it a couple more swipes down the strop, he adds, "Got stuck with nursery duty earlier."

Nicky takes his time bathing, though he's not outside of earshot and, occasionally, his gaze flickers over to the other two candidates to watch them at their business. He's busy scrubbing his chest down with soapsand when Kaeden explains where they were earlier, and he makes a rumbly little sound of displeasure. "Th-they were brutal," he chimes in, shaking his head at his peers - though will they see it, since they're busy? Either way, he's ducking underwater to wet his fluffyied-up curls.

Ceawlin shares Kaeden's stare, momentarily halting his morning ritual to watch the strange kid jump into the bathing pools with his skivvies still on. Then Nicky chimes in his own complaint. "Makes me," comes observation, slow, "glad that I've got my harper duties to attend to." Less chance to get such tasks as /nursery/ duty when it's time for Candidate chores. Then again, the boy looks more like he'd eat children rather than take care of them or lead them to a sugar hold... "Welp," finality to the smooth tenor that holds no lingering hint of once near-debilitating cold-like sickness, "I'm done. See you boys later." With a mock-salute, a sly little reptilian twinkle to cold, blue eyes, the harper's sauntering out of the baths, whistling dixie. Exit; stage left.

Only a few swipes of the blade behind Ceawlin, Kaeden is also soon done with the shaving routine, pausing to salute right back with his knife. He wipes his face down with a washcloth, then feels along his skin for any missed hair. There is just one tiny patch, soon fixed with the blade, then he's down to cleaning up after himself. "You should have escaped when you had the chance," he calls out, presumably for Nicky's benefit.

Nicky emerges from the water in time to wave Ceawlin off with a touch of his fingers to his temple in a salute of sorts, then he starts soaping up his sodden curls to clean them of whatever gunk the kids mashed in there. "Too m-much running around," he says by way of explaining the sick on his shirt. Then, an abrupt change of subject: "Um... Ceawlin...he's..." The teen winces, giving Kaeden a look that's very clearly trying to get some message across - exactly what that message is, though, is up for interpretation.

Kaeden starts packing up his shaving supplies into a small leather pouch, then grabs his shirt from the nearby bench before turning back to Nicky. He gives his face and neck another extra swipe with a hand towel before he tosses it toward the laundry and finishes getting dressed. If he knows where Nicky's going with that, regarding Ceawlin, he doesn't look it.

With his hair washed free of soap, Nicky's ready to get out. It's an awkward scramble as he tries to hide where the fabric of his underwear clings to certain parts of him, and he can't seem to get a towel around his waist quick enough. When he's got that fluffy protective barrier between his bits and the world, Nicky feels comfortable enough to come closer to Kaeden. The completion of his sentence is nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders, and a thoughtful headtilt.

There may have been a bit of a smirk during the awkward scramble, but Kaeden keeps his comments to himself, otherwise. The washcloth and hand towel are added to the appropriate laundry basket, then he gives his still damp hair a last scrub-through with his fingers. "'M gonna go grab breakfast," he announces, waving to Nicky with the carefully rolled leather pouch. "Save you a seat." Then he leaves Nicky and his modesty to the comfort of the steam.