damned_institute | Day 69: Male Showers

After the sounds that Castiel had heard, and with the way his forearms had suddenly become soaked in water -- suffice to say he wasn't thrilled at the concept of going to take a shower right afterward. While he had the feeling that what he'd experienced was only remnants of the haunting and there was no way for the ghost to do any damage to them during the day, he couldn't be certain of that.

Still, his nurse wasn't listening to any of his protests. Her concern was that he needed to let his wounds breathe after keeping them so tightly bandaged for so long. Castiel realized that cleaning his wounds out with water would probably help the healing process, but it didn't sound particularly pleasant to him.

That was neither here nor there, though, because the next thing he knew he was being ushered into the changing room. Castiel slowly removed his clothes, taking care not to make any sudden movements that would pull too hard at his stomach. He managed to undress without hurting himself too much, and then moved into the shower area.

He started a lukewarm spray of water first and stood under it, letting the clean water wash over his body and his wounds. It did cause them to sting slightly, but in the end he had to admit it was refreshing.

[For Kratos.]

After what had happened the other night, Kratos was naturally also wary of entering the showers. The skin around the Cruxis Crystal was still raw, red, and obviously damaged--he wasn't worried as much, though, that other people might see the injury. No, it was more that Lloyd might - Lloyd, who would see and understand. Lloyd, who would likely approach him. Lloyd, who absolutely could not know.

He needed a shower, though. Perhaps he could just be quick about it.

Kratos was swift in undressing and just as swift in finding a shower near the back of the room next to someone else who was not Lloyd (It was not hiding, just taking precautions--). By a minor miracle, his son had not appeared yet, so he had some time, however slim.

As he stepped under the water, he glanced to his side to see who he'd picked for "company", and felt a minute jolt of relief when he realized that it was Castiel. It was good to see that the other man seemed to know what he was doing this time in the shower, and even more that he looked healthier than the last time they'd spoken.

"Castiel." Showers weren't the best times to have conversations, but at least he could acknowledge his presence.

It wasn't that Castiel was an expert with the showers by now, but he'd gone through this routine enough times that he wasn't quite as baffled by it either. And the fact was that he was close enough to human now that he needed to clean himself in this way, as much as he wished that weren't the case.

Some of the water was tinged with red as it went down the drain, and he was busy staring at that when Kratos spoke up. Castiel lifted his head and looked over, though it only took a second or two before he noticed the irritated area on the man's hand. What was that...?

Tempting as it was to ask right away, Castiel suspected it wasn't the sort of conversation Kratos expected to have, especially right now. After he nodded in greeting, Castiel reached out for some of the soap and started to lather it between his hands.

"It's been some time since we've seen each other..." Or it felt that way, at least. Kratos had checked up with him after the surgery, of course, but that had been a few days ago now. "How have you been?"

Ah, the question he hated to answer, especially now. It was wrong to deceive people who had nothing but good intentions in mind, who would do nothing with his answer but perhaps offer sympathy. Unfortunately, Kratos preferred even enmity over the sting of laying himself bare for someone else to see--not that he had to do that every time someone asked how he'd been, just that it always felt that way.

Kratos ducked his head briefly out of the spray to work some shampoo into his hair. "I've been better." He would give the same answer he'd given Ilia. It made the lie a little less, in his opinion. "Worse as well."

He glanced again at Castiel. "You've recovered sufficiently?"

It wasn't much of a response, though Castiel didn't know what else he was expecting. Kratos was the sort of person who didn't seem to enjoy sharing much about himself. Even now, Castiel didn't know that much about the man, despite the fact that they had a number of things in common. He knew the broad facts -- that Kratos was a soldier, for instance -- but didn't know the finer details. Why had he decided to fight? What ideals did he fight for? And so on.

But that was something that he could let Kratos keep to himself, if that was what he wanted. Castiel started to wash off his arms and chest, taking care to make sure that the soap didn't seep into his abdominal wounds.

"I'm getting closer," he responded, nodding his head as he looked down at himself. "It seems that most everyone has been cured by now. Not every life was saved, but it could have been worse. You have my thanks." He owed it to Kratos. Not many people would have had the courage to agree to such a request.

Something flickered across Kratos's face, a brief tightening of disgust that would be hidden by his hair and the water. Like most people, he was pleased by success, but for him, failure had always left a more powerful impression. When it came to the virus and particular the topic of curing others, inevitably, his mind brought him back to Sora, and that soured all other thoughts of what he'd done.

"It could have been," he agreed quietly, partially to combat that toxic, accusatory voice, as he reached next for the soap. "I'm glad to have been of service." There were likely very few who would have the skills, let alone have dared to attempt the operation, and he had been more than willing to step in and relieve that burden, even if he'd only tried twice.

That expression was impossible for even Castiel to miss. But what had triggered it? Was it possible that one of those lost lives was someone that Kratos had known? Castiel hadn't meant to dig into a scabbed-over wound by saying anything, but he often found that his words took the worst possible meaning with others. There wasn't much he could do about it now; the best option would be not to point it out.

There was something else he could ask about, though, and Castiel spoke up as he started to pump some of the shampoo into his hands. "That wound on your hand... What happened?" This question might not be any easier for Kratos to answer, but Castiel thought it would be amiss if he didn't bring it up. If Kratos was in any kind of need, then Castiel was more than glad to offer a hand and return his debt.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lloyd entering the showers; Kratos's breath caught momentarily as he watched his son...not come anywhere near him. He would have breathed a loud sigh of relief were Castiel not standing right next to him. Crisis averted.

Of course, it had to be that Castiel would ask about his hand instead. Clearly, he was unable to ever catch a break.

Kratos tried to keep his reaction to a minimum; now more than ever was the time to be nonchalant and casual, in the hopes that it would cast the proper illusion that he could manage whatever it was, that his injury was nothing to worry about. Even so, the urge to stiffen and then withdraw was a very difficult one to completely master, and he couldn't help the stilted, robotic way his voice sounded as he answered: "I ran afoul of a monster the other night." He'd said that story to Lloyd yesterday, and as it had then, so it stood now that he was telling the truth from a certain point of view. One could hardly find a better word to label the doctors here.

"It's been taken care of." Even if Castiel knew the whole truth, there wasn't anything he could really do about it. The only cure to his slow demise involved, among other things, a crystallized fragment of mana and a unicorn, and Kratos sincerely doubted he would be able to find either one of those things in short order, even if he was given the freedom to go where he wished - especially the unicorn.

The way Kratos answered struck a chord in Castiel, because he'd also responded to people's questions in that way. He knew what it meant. Whatever Kratos was involved in, it wasn't something he wished to share. There could be all kinds of reasons for that. Maybe one of the transformed patients had attacked him. Maybe he'd been taken by the doctors for experiments. Regardless of the truth, it wasn't something Castiel was privy to.

He nodded in response as he worked the shampoo through his hair. There was so much that these humans had to keep track of -- eating, cleaning themselves, sleeping. Castiel realized that it came naturally to them, but in his case he had to learn.

"Have you found any leads when it comes to escaping?" he asked next, as it would be best to move to a broader subject, something that Kratos could easily discuss without revealing anything personal. That might make the conversation go somewhere more useful.

After several days of having people (Lloyd) needle him about his curt, obviously incomplete answers, Kratos certainly welcomed Castiel's quiet acceptance. No doubt the other man had gone through the same routine a few times himself before; it was not hard to imagine.

"To be honest, no." He was thankful for the change in subject, even though the new one was almost as frustrating. "I haven't received any new information, nor have I been able to look into anything over the past few days. I intended to, but...other matters arose." Hopefully, that would be changed tonight. That book had been waiting for him for a while now. "They have all been dealt with now, though."

Kratos scrubbed at his arms, wincing as the soap got into the cuts around his hand. "Have you found anything?"

They seemed to more or less be on the same page when it came to what they'd been spending their time on. Castiel didn't know if that was good or bad, but either way he sighed and shook his head. "No, it's been the same situation in my case. I've been busy healing up and trying to find cures for others, but I'll be getting back to the real matter at hand starting tonight."

Even if it was only in a roundabout way. Castiel had agreed to work with Soushi tonight both to keep an eye on him and because they might have a chance to explore the second floor some. At this point Castiel didn't know what they might find that would be of any use, as this whole building had likely been explored ten times over, but right now he didn't have a better direction.

"You mentioned something about the library the last time we spoke, didn't you? Did that turn out to lead to nothing?" After asking his question, Castiel moved his head under the spray of water, squinting his eyes shut as he let it wash out.

At this point a hot shower sounded pretty good. Not because Guy was worn down, necessarily, but because he was at a point where he could actually enjoy it; where he wasn't too busy worrying about his friends to focus on anything else.

Not to mention that playing a game on that big screen in the Game Room had also helped him to unwind. It was actually a lot of fun, and when he glanced up from the screen at some point in the middle of the shift, he'd even spotted Luke playing as well -- with a girl seated by him, no less! He'd have to tease him about that when he got the chance.

That might not be until tomorrow if Guy was going to the caverns with Anise and Claude tonight, but the important thing was that he now knew Luke was okay. He wasn't in a position where he had to take a quick shower and then go madly search for someone, so he was going to take his sweet time and enjoy himself.

After he undressed, Guy moved into the shower room, picking out an empty space to turn one of them on and then wait for the water to heat up.

[Free!]

Murphy hated the showers. Too many bad memories, too many unpleasant feelings that rose up whenever he stepped into them. He thought about Napier. He thought about Frank. He thought about the fake son they'd made him believe was real. He stripped with a sort of grim determination, paying no attention to the other men.

The steam hit him and he shuddered. He felt sick. He felt like he kept taking one step forward and two steps back. It was like he had a darkness inside of him that just kept trying to drag him back down, no matter how hard he tried to claw his way out.

He stepped under a shower novel and stood in the hot spray, staring at the tile. He thought about Charlie and his stomach turned. Before he realized it, he was leaning with one arm against the tile and shuddering softly as he tried to hold back the tears.

Showers were one more thing in the Institute which were necessary as a human, but utterly, completely new to Gabriel in execution. Most of the times he'd been swimming had been as a completely different animal. Like most things, it was something the Archangel also approached with a quiet sort of curiosity and lack of inhibition.

It was also something that he genuinely enjoyed. He'd never had a need for hot showers. He'd never realised how soothing they could be. They wouldn't have been as soothing, while he was an Archangel, because the heat wouldn't have had any effect on tense and aching muscles.

Which was why he tended to linger as long as possible, head back and revelling under the water not unlike a cat being stroked. Which was also why he didn't realise Murphy was nearby until he caught the sound of something suspiciously like a sob and looked down, blinking away water.

The sight of the man struggling not to weep made Gabriel's chest clench in a rather unpleasant fashion. Without a word Gabe ducked out from under the water to go to Murphy and put a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing in gentle assurance. Crying was never a crime.

His first reaction at the touch on his neck was to tense up, turn in fear and anger. But Murphy saw it was only Gabe and relaxed immediately, mentally kicking himself again. He'd been treating the guy pretty shitty lately - he knew it was the drugs they'd given him, but his guilt didn't care.

And now he'd gone and done it again, turning on the man like he was about to haul off and punch him.

"Hey," he managed, wiping at his face with the back of a damp wrist. "Sorry, I...you startled me. I was pretty far away, I guess."

Probably not the best idea Gabe had ever had. He jerked his hand back a little, but when Murphy recognise him the Archangel hesitated and then rested it back where it had been. "No, I'm sorry," he said, chagrined. "I should've known that would startle you."

He smiled, gently but a little crookedly, tilting his head. "Want to tell me where you were? Maybe I can help bring it a little closer."

Murphy didn't shy away from the touch this time.

"I was...in a bad place," he admitted. "It's this..." he gestured vaguely to the shower room, though he meant the institute entirely. "How it knows. It knows what hurts you the most and it knows all your deep fears and regrets and all of that shit. And it plays with them. I...I spent the last 24 hours thinking my son was alive and a teenager now. And my wife still loved me and was still my wife. I mean...I wasn't me and they weren't them, exactly, but..."

But Gabe knew the whole story. Murphy didn't have to try and explain why this was so shaking to him, why it had threatened to undo him all over again.

"I...I could remember...I can still remember it, even though I know it's all bullshit. It doesn't matter because I remember Charlie growing up!" He turned pain laden eyes to the younger man, the tears coming now though mixing with the water from the shower.

Murphy's broken words, the devastation radiating from whole of his being, brought tears to Gabriel's eyes. It wasn't fair. Of course it wasn't fair. If life was completely fair, it would be orderly to the point of stagnation, to the point of sterility.

That didn't mean Murphy's pain was any less heart-wrenching.

"No, it doesn't matter that it wasn't real," he said softly, holding Murphy's gaze. "But isn't that the point? You have memories of Charlie growing up that you didn't have. It doesn't matter that Landel was just using them as a tool to hurt you. They're yours. You have a few more years with your son than you did two days ago."

He smiled, watery and soft but gentle. "I'd rather think of that as a gift."

"But they're not real."

That made it worse. It was a dream, a fantasy, a sick reminder that Charlie hadn't been given a chance to grow up. It had been painfully ripped away from him. The memories were a mockery of Murphy's life, of everything he'd lived through. He couldn't see them any other way.

He shuddered and swallowed thickly, the hurt and anger rising in him once more.

"That...that kid I remember isn't my son."

There were a lot of things Gabriel could have said, things which crowded his tongue. Things which were, ultimately, meaningless right now. Murphy's pain was too new, too sharp. It was very rare that the right words could be found to change a mindset in a situation like this.

Yet, Murphy's words demanded an answer. "How do you know?" Gabe asked simply instead, his thumb absently and gently stroking the back of the man's neck. "Landel draws in people from all many universes. How do you know those memories aren't real, for another version of you? Does the fact they could be make them worth keeping?"

It was a genuine question. A genuine question, because only Murphy could decide that--only Murphy could decide how much he could accept them over his hurts.

Murphy shook his head.

It wasn't an answer, really, more a denial of the question. How could he figure out something like that? It was...existential. Beyond him. He only knew that he had someone else's memories in his head, and he didn't want them.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "It...that guy isn't me. That family isn't mine. It's like te plot of some bad movie, you know? But it's all lies. Lies they put inside my head! They put what they wanted into my head, Gabe. That's..."

He didn't know how to explain how wrong that was. It was a violation of his most personal self, but he didn't quite have the understanding to express that. There was a taint to the memories, beyond just the subject of them.

He was right. He was right, because that was an intrusion and a violation which no one should have to experience in any fashion, and in light of that Gabe could understand why Murphy wouldn't be able to find any brightness in those memories at all.

The edge in his voice, the near-hysteria, the indication of that edge Murphy was on--it twisted Gabriel's gut with helplessness in sympathy, until the only thing the Archangel could think to do was to step forward and pull the other man into a rough hug.

"I know," he whispered, the embrace almost tight enough to be painful. "I know."

Murphy just sniffled, closing his eyes and letting Gabe hug him. He wasn't up to returning it, but that didn't matter. He needed a hug. Even now - and as though he'd never had another guy put an arm around him during shower time. Prison had worn away any cultural protest he once may have had to being naked and hugged by a similarly naked man.

And he needed contact. He needed to remember that he still had some things in his life that weren't utter misery and hopelessness. It was just harder than he ever thought it could be. He lifted his head only to be beaten down again and again and again...

"I hate this place." He leaned his head against Gabe's shoulder with a heavy sigh. "I don't...I don't want to play Job anymore."

Gabe laughed. He couldn't help it. He laughed and his chest clenched and it came out teary, understanding, and ironic. He'd seen Job. He'd seen every single wager his Master and brother had every undertaken in the course if history. He'd walked beside every single one of those Champions, and ached for them.

If he thought it would have helped Murphy, he might have even admitted who he was--what he was. But it wouldn't. It didn't make a difference, knowing there was something larger out there, when one's pain was all so fresh. Sometimes, it made things worse.

The Archangel squeezed Murphy a little tighter. "I could probably say something extremely philosophical and world-changing here, but what would be the point of it? I can't change what you've had to endure. And I can't say that there's a purpose behind it, even when there is. Because sometimes there isn't." He thought of Joby and his light, and the millions of people his acceptance of the wager had rescued from nuclear war. He thought of Lot and Lucifer's irrational hatred of the man, until he had sacrificed two of his own cities just to try and get rid of him.

"But I trust there's a reason," he said softly. "It's not always a very good or a very nice reason, but there's always a reason, and when there's reason there's potential for things to change. If you can just hold on for long enough. Or ask someone to help you hold on. There's nothing wrong with that, either."

Murphy didn't know why Gabe was laughing, but he didn't care. It wasn't like he was being laughed at.

"I don't think I care anymore. About...a reason or anything like that. But I'm angry. I'm pissed off and I hurt and I never care about much when I'm like that." He sniffled, acutely aware of how tired he was. But it was true. Right now he didn't give a damn what reason there was for any of the torments he'd suffered. His pain overwhelmed him, it always had.

All his nightmare adventure had done for him was allow him to accept that Charlie was gone, and that his own revenge had been an empty and selfish gesture. Those weren't even cold comforts to take with him into the night.

"God, I don't know how you put up with me. I'm a pretty miserable son of a bitch, huh?" He pulled away then, wiping his wet eyes and swallowing thickly. It was his own way of asking for that help, because he knew damn well he couldn't pull his soul up out of the gutter on his own.

"You're not that hard to put up with." Gabe let Murphy pull away but smiled at him, gentle but warm and with tears in his own eyes, on his own cheeks. Sympathetic tears. "You're worth it, anyhow. I've been around long enough to tell when people are worth it, and you are."

If he wasn't, he wouldn't feel so deeply for what he'd done. The danger lay in his not caring; at that point, Lucifer will have won. If Gabe could save Murphy from that ...

The Archangel reached out to squeeze one of his hands. "Would you like to pray with me? Or I can pray for you alone, if you'd rather."

Because he would, either way. He just thought Murphy might like the chance to do so for himself ... even if it was just to rail at an apparently absent God. Sometimes the outlet helped.

"I'm glad one of us thinks so."

It was hard, not to be self deprecating. But if Gabe wanted to think so, Murphy wasn't going to argue. He wanted to be worth something. To someone, anyone. He could hardly remember what that even felt like.

And praying sounded oddly comforting. He'd been trying, more and more lately.

"Why don't you start us off?" he asked, not sure he could bear to address God on his own right now.

With a smile Gabe clasped both of Murphy's hands in his, without breaking gaze. "Our Father in Heaven," he said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the patter of the shower-water.

"In Your name I pray for Murphy Pendleton. Help him find the courage and will to continue in spite of what he has suffered. Let him feel Your love so he may know that it is eternal. In the difficulties Murphy must face day by day, here in this Institute and whatever life he has afterward, may he know that You are watching, regardless of whether You might be seen or unseen. Help him bear his sins until such a time he is ready to ask forgiveness. Because when that time comes, I know he will already be forgiven."

The last line was said quietly, half as if an aside to someone Gabe knew very well and was sharing a knowledge they knew which others might. The other half was said directly to Murphy himself, as encouragement, as faith that he would be forgiven. If he only asked.

Showers. Hot, soapy, functional. No one tried to make awkward naked conversation, which meant S.T. was in and out fast enough to win a Best Roommate award. Except that these were group showers, so no one gave a shit.

[to here]

Edited 2013-03-03 01:09 (UTC)

Fai was pleased at the concept of getting clean. He wasn't sure why so many of the other patients seemed to be so upset about them. Fai even hummed a little as he washed himself up. He wasn't sure how long he was allowed to stay in the shower, but this was far more pleasant then wandering around aimlessly or something. He had abandoned his hair tie and eyepatch with his clothes to make sure they didn't get wet. So now he positioned his bangs so that they would cover the missing eye. He would prefer no one asked any questions about that because he would rather avoid trying to explain it.

He set to work getting clean, continuing to hum some random tune as he washed up.

[Free]

Edited 2013-03-03 02:44 (UTC)

By some miracle, Kurogane had managed to keep to himself throughout the day without being bothered. No one had been forced to sit with him during meals, and he'd been able to rest in the Sun Room without interruption. He had needed a slow pace for the day after having that flower, and used the time to gauge just how the cure was affecting him. Admittedly he was feeling better, and with the oncoming showers he'd be able to inspect better how his body was responding.

He spent a little more time than his usual in preparing, focusing on his left arm as he undressed. While it still retained some red patches close to the hang, the majority of the rash had faded away. He could once again see the darkened skin and tattoo of the arm they'd forced onto him. If nothing else, it was a much better sight than the rashed-over limb he'd been suffering with for the last week's time, however much it still annoyed him.

"Staring won't get anything clean, Mr. Cross."

"Shut up," Kurogane snorted at the orderly that was trying to make him hurry and entered the shower area, paying little attention to who else was there as he found an empty shower head. He'd been there long enough to know that very few patients wanted to have a conversation in this place.

Kurogane might not have noticed him, but Fai knew that his prey was close. He stopped humming and looked over his shoulder as he waited for that familiar voice to reach his ears. With the sound of the water muffling sound it was too hard at first and then he spotted him.

Concern flickered across his face briefly at he got his first real look at the differences in Kurogane's body. That arm brought a familiar ache to his heart that made him turn away very briefly. Reaching up to casually smooth the hair over that eye, Fai tried to push those thoughts of Celes away.

Since it seemed he hadn't been noticed, Fai slid his way down until he was right next to the ninja. He was silent for a moment before that sing song voice called out, "Make sure you do a good thorough job, Kuro-tan. No one wants a stinky ninja."

Thought the ninja didn't pay close attention to others when in the showers, he kept enough of his senses to know when someone was coming close to him. He caught the magician in his peripheral long before Fai got beside him and although he knew better than to think the man could keep his mouth shut in this situation, he had hoped Fai would watch his words a bit better than that.

He kept a curse to himself and chose to focus on the water that had finally gotten to a decent temperature, testing how it felt on the still reddened areas of skin. "Focus on yourself. They don't let us in here often."

"I've already been doing a very good job. I'm enjoying the shower. Are we not allowed to do this every day?" That is a shame. Considering how active everyone was around here, Fai would think showers would be mandatory. But he did resume washing himself again once he was settled in next to Kurogane. He was going to enjoy it to the fullest while he could. He intended to stay in there until he was either kicked out or became a human prune. The warm water felt good against his typically very cool skin and he intended to soak up as much of it as possible.

With the water warm enough and the sensation of it on the rash tolerable, Kurogane ducked under the shower head. "Twice a week, if that," he answered as he continued to check certain pains over washing properly.

He rubbed a hand over his left shoulder, rolling the joint back to be sure. The wound there had still been healing when the rash had spread, so he hadn't been able to tell if it had healed or not since then. That doctor hadn't helped with shocking the thing either. Except for the memory stinging his pride, he didn't feel either the injury or any resulting pain. Like most taken in this world, this wound had healed cleanly.

When he was satisfied, he took his hand away, grabbed the soap and finally started washing himself.

Edited 2013-03-03 08:21 (UTC)

Fai wrinkled his nose a little at the thought of very little shower time. "Lots of stinky ninja time then." Because clearly he wasn't going to be stinky. That would mean doing actual work or something. And Fai was more likely to merely lay around. His concern was definitely all that hair..only being washed once in awhile could leave that to becoming quite a mess.

He reached up and covered the missing eye as he ducked his head under the water. Slowly he moved those fingers away from it, still aware that the hair would probably be washed aside by the water. He had already done a pretty good job of washing up but decided that if this was it for awhile, he might as well do a double dose and enjoy it.

Picking up his own soap he resumed his humming as he washed.

Why was Fai stuck on that? It wasn't as though they hadn't been to worlds where they weren't able to wash frequently. Where Kurogane was from, he would only wash whenever he felt he needed to or when the Princess ordered it - the latter reason had likely been just to annoy him as well.

He snorted, choosing not to answer, and instead wiped the water from his face back through his hair so he could see what he was doing. The soap stung against his left hand as he rubbed the bar between his palms. "Damn..." he hissed, but put up with the pain since trying to wash with only one hand would have been an even bigger pain.

Edited 2013-03-03 08:36 (UTC)

Fai looked over at the hiss, forgetting himself for a moment as worry flickered across his face once more. "Does it still hurt?" Fai couldn't smell any blood so he didn't figure there was any open wounds but the smell of soap and the interference from the water could be making that difficult.

"I could wash you if you can't~" Fai was only mildly teasing in order to cover up that concern as the one eye looked at that hand.

The continuing questions caused Kurogane to realize that this was the first Fai had seen of his arm since the rash had started, meaning that neither this version nor the other had seen the rash over that time. Kurogane had been too much in the habit of keeping his arm covered even before getting sick, using his cloak at nights so he wouldn't have to be reminded of what was done to him. The only change now was this this Fai hadn't seen his replacement arm at all until this point, leaving him with no knowledge of how it should have looked.

"It's better than it was," he muttered, "And I don't need help."

Fai nodded and pulled his eye away from it. He held up his hands and cupped the water as it showered down in front of him. "When I left..you had just gained a metal arm from the Piffle world." Fai had paid the price to get it. He knew he wouldn't die by giving up his magic, but it was still a high price. It meant all he had was the vampire blood to keep him alive. His whole life really did depend on the ninja from that point on.

"I hadn't really gotten used to seeing that yet." Because soon after they had traveled on..and he had ended up here. Even though it had only been a couple days it felt like much longer.

"You already told me," he reminded.

Though this was the first time he was hearing about the timing. So this had only just happened in Fai's time, him losing his arm. Kurogane hadn't asked for those kinds of details when the magician had explained. Those things hadn't happened to him yet, and possibly wouldn't since some version of them had already gone on here. He wasn't sure, and asking wasn't likely to change anything either.

How he'd been able to get a new arm from Piffle, of all places, had been bothering him, and the fact that he'd lost an arm in some way. He knew the circumstances here, but not what they had been in the Celes country Fai had spoken of. If the reasons had been too similar...

"This isn't metal, so it's not the same," he said, wanting to keep the comparisons to a minimum. He was already aggravated enough how similar the things were that had gone on between their times in different worlds, and keeping his and Fai's circumstances silent meant they didn't have to feel anymore helpless about their lives than the place already made them feel. "I'm not used to it either."

There was so much more to the story about the arm, but Fai was cautious about how much he should reveal. If he told this Kurogane of the events, would it change anything of their future? Fai doubted it..but it wasn't something he could be completely certain of.

"It's not the same..neither are the circumstances. But it is a bit ironic isn't it? As if this place is able to read your future.." The mismatched eyes were unusual though. Unless that was something even Fai hadn't experienced yet. It was still strange to be from Kurogane's future. But he felt this Kurogane should know why the arm was so important and why it bothered him.

"You gave it up..your arm. You gave it up to save me. We were on my world and I was prepared to be destroyed along with it, but you wouldn't allow it. You cut it off and left it behind along with your sword."

Ironic was not the word Kurogane would have used, and whatever he did want to say in regards to what Fai knew, he wasn't about to do so in she showers. There was a reason he'd kept his words short in the room, wanting to get finished and out before something came up as it was sure to. By the time Fai had started speaking about what he'd done, Kurogane was already reaching to turn of the water.

More questions had arisen now, as had a sting of shame that the ninja couldn't ignore with his left arm so visible. With the stream ended, Kurogane turned to leave. "I'll be in the Sun Room," was all he said in parting.

If the magician wanted to talk, then Fai could come and find him.

[retreating]

Fai watched the ninja retreat, surprise etched on his face for a moment. It was like he was running..that was Fai's trick. Fai tilted his head up and let the water wash over his face, debating on his choices. Kurogane had told him where he was going..which meant he could follow if he wanted to. Reaching out he turned off the water but he just paused there for a moment as he considered retreating somewhere else. But he felt he had started something and to just leave the ninja to dwell on those words was probably not wise.

Finally turning away, Fai went to dry off and get dressed.

[to here]

This was going to sting. Lloyd knew it, but he honestly didn't care enough not to step into the hot spray of water anyway. Looking at his throat in the mirror as he'd pulled the bandages away had shown him how bad the damage really was, dark bruises from where the monster's hand had wrapped around his neck and angry red gouges where its nails had bit into his flesh giving his skin the look of something freshly dead. He shivered at the thought, of how near that fight had been.

Despite its sting, the teen relished the heat from the water and the feel of the soap washing blood and grime away. How long had it even been since the last time he'd bathed? Not since before he'd been brought here. Was this really only the fourth day? Too long. Way too long, and he still wasn't any closer to figuring out how to get out of this place.

Taking his time to clean up, being especially ginger with his throat, it was a while before he finally emerged and started toweling off. I should go find my nurse, he thought unenthusiastically. Get new bandages. He should, but he didn't really want to. He didn't want to go back to the false concern and the lies that made up this place. The shower had given him almost an illusion of separation from it. It wouldn't last forever, he knew, but he wanted it to last, just a little bit longer.

...how long could he put it off?

[To here.]

Edited 2013-03-03 22:42 (UTC)

The morning left a bit to be desired, but he supposed there was still time left in the day. He'd found little to nothing new out, save for Castiel's room number and the chance that maybe tonight things would be different.

Apparently the nurses had taken note of his eating habits and he'd spent the last shift in his room and his sack lunch. While he managed a few bites and set the rest aside, it didn't help his anxiety much. He could think of no one but Ririchiyo and how he might return to her side. It felt like some warped sort of addiction, but he had nothing sweet to remind him of her. No photos, no gifts, no little memories wrapped up and neatly packaged with tiny labels.

The nurse returned after a short while to lead him to a new room, though he knew from the scent of soap and steam and the sound of running water that it had to be some sort of bathing facility. Community showers, by the look of it. He disrobed without comment or hesitation; he was grateful for the opportunity, if he was being completely honest with himself. He hadn't bathed in nearly three days and it was starting to become a bother.

After adjusting the water to a suitable setting, as hot as he could tolerate without fear of scalding his skin, he stepped into the stream of water and set about washing up.

[Free]

Even though Claude technically had the freedom to shower whenever he wished, he almost always waited until the regular shower shift to bathe. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he didn't want to make himself too conspicuous, or maybe it just wasn't that big of a deal to him.

Whatever the reason, it did mean he was glad to get a chance to stand underneath some warm water for a little bit. Of course, he wasn't really in the mood to chat with anyone in the showers today. Besides, he still wanted to try to find Anise. That was why he didn't linger around this afternoon, and instead went into the changing area to towel off as soon as he was finished.

((To here.))

Day 69: Male Showers

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/oh lord, I can't resist...

No peeking, Kuro-pii~

Who would want to?

So mean ;_; /dies a little inside

Re: So mean ;_; /dies a little inside

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