Difference between revisions of "Logs:Sweet And Uncomplicated"

>---< 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.

Late enough that the baths aren't as busy as they could be, Telavi's indulged herself with scented bubbles; uninterrupted by splashers, the circulating water moves slowly enough that she can fence them close to her with the judicious use, here and there, of a toe. Her head is leaned back against the rock, blonde hair darkened further by water where it's half-visible in the folds of a particularly fluffy towel; she's comfortable.

Bath time is a religious experience. It's best enjoyed with sweet scents, bubbles, and if you've got treats at the ready, even better. With at least one of these things - generic soapsand - and her arms full of extra clothing, fluffy towels, and soft slippers, Farideh enters the cavern, preceding directly to a bench to deposit her things. She doesn't hesitate to disrobe and wade into the water via the stairs, bearing her trusty sponge. Telavi gets a curious glance, as the laundress soaps up the sponge, dunking it underneath and squeezing it until bubbles squish out in all directions. "Smells nice," she notes amiably.

Telavi was comfortable... and continues to be, actually, unless Farideh's more clanky than sinks in at first through her dreamy haze. "Mmm," she agrees without bothering to look around, because who else would the other girl-voice be talking to. "It's so sad... it's the very last, they just aren't making it anymore. Don't you just hate that?" might be more of a complaint if it weren't so pleasantly languid.

The younger woman sinks down to her shoulders in the water, letting the warmth and bubbles cover her skin with a delighted little sigh. "Oh? Did they? What is it?" Farideh asks, sniffing the bubbles on the back of her hand. "It's a shame, but perhaps-- they'll let you custom order? Or, you could find something similar." She wrings her sponge out and uses it to scrub her neck, turning her head to the side with a contemplative expression crinkling her brow.

"Maybe similar," Telavi says with a sigh, a sigh that implies not-as-good. She twiddles her toes in the water and, given the compliment, doesn't object to the bubbles leaving her personal space-- though then again, given the barely-perceptible lift of those long lashes into the distance beyond those same toes, perhaps she doesn't even notice. "It's their thing, you know? All custom, and inspired, and they only make so many bottles and then never again." Sigh.

An appropriately remorseful frown settles on the skinny girl's face. "That's a bother, but I'm sure you'll find something better. I used to have a dress, it was a delicate green, and it got a stain, not entirely my fault, on it that wouldn't ever come out. I cried and cried and cried, but then my uncle bought me an even prettier dress and I forgot all about the old one," which is not the same thing, but she's making an effort at least. "Have you tried neroli? Or bergamot?" Farideh dunks the sponge back under the water, watching the bubbles rush to the surface.

"That's so horrible," Telavi empathetically and emphatically enthuses, drowsy-eyed though she is; she's in no hurry, any sweetsand on hand already used up, one slender arm lifting ever so gradually out of the water so that she can properly shield her eyes with the back of her wrist. From the horror. "Neroli's too sharp for me? Unless it's just a little bit, so it effervesces... I like bergamot, though, if you don't feel like you're steeping in a great big batch of tea. Which scents do you like? On your own, I mean."

"It was," Farideh laments, staring unseeingly at the scud of bubbles on the stretch of water in front of her. She lifts an arm to scrub with her sponge, up above her head, not bothering to worry about her modesty given it's the baths are so unoccupied. "Neroli is nice, but I find bergamot to be-- difficult. I've always favored sweet and earthy, naturally. Some sandalwood, some patchouli, with citrus or a floral note too. My sister likes all those sweet flowery smells. Lavender, vanilla, rose, without anything else," as she wrinkles her nose.

"Difficult..." Telavi repeats it, doesn't disagree with it, but there's a smile in her voice that suggests that could be its own attraction. "No wonder you like this. Sometimes it's hard to find a truly good patchouli, one that isn't too raw, don't you think? Your sister, though, it sounds so sweet and... uncomplicated," she offers generously.

"It really is. They can make it overpowering, but the aunties like that. You can smell them a mile away," Farideh says, still wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Just a bit, mixed with some complimentary scents is enough." She sighs dramatically and looks over at Telavi, particularly that fluffy towel on her head. "I guess. It's kind of-- boring."

Tela's wrinkling her nose, now; it's catching! The towel's a soft peachy-rose, or maybe rosy-peach, hard to tell with the dimness and the dampness; it's less on her head than serving part as pillow, part soaking up the wetness from that extravagance of blonde hair. At least there's no wrinkling for longer than a moment; sympathetically, half-whispered, "It would be boring for me too. But she's your sister, I can't say that," and there's more than a hint of dimple.

"Why not? It's not like you know her or you'll ever meet her. She would rather die than step foot inside a Weyr," the laundress says despondently, letting her sponge float away while she scrubs her face with water. After wiping her eyes, Farideh semi-turns towards Telavi, reaching out her fingers to pull the sponge back within her grasp. "And she's boring. It suits her. Not that I don't love her any less, just that she is-- dull." That's sisterly affection, or jealousy, whichever.

"Mmm..." That dimple deepens. "I could, but I'm being good," Tela avers with a particularly decadent curl of her prettily-polished toes. "You might be moved to defend her, not-here or no, dull or no, and wouldn't that be a pity? This way you can say whatever you like."

Farideh has the look of someone who doesn't quite understand. "I guess," is her answer, again. "I should get back anyway. I told Anysse I would help her with her reading." She starts to make her way towards the stairs, but stops and glances back at Telavi. "Enjoy the rest of your-- soap. It was nice talking to someone who understands--" just understands. Then, she's stepping out, and wrapping one of those fluffy towels around herself.

"Good night," Telavi is glad to wish her, but then when the other girl goes on, smiles a smile that's that much more there. Like it's sweet, what Farideh's said, not roses-or-vanilla 'sweet' but... sweet. "You sleep well," she says, and she will do the same. Perhaps not even in the tub!