The TarRaCe, Baths

Log Info

• Title:
• Emitter: Thurid
• Characters: Thurid, Aryia, Dax, Merek
• Place: A03: The TarRaCe - Bathhouse
• Time: Saturday, June 19, 2021, 4:40 PM
• Summary: Thurid has been working, Aryia needs to relax, Dax has heard about the Tarrace Baths and Merek wanders in. Thurid muses on modesty, and prostletyzes on the beauty of clay made flesh and how beautiful sculptures should be shown off. Dax agrees enthusiastically, making an effort to do so. The sailor with the kraken tattoo also wants to know the story behind the Mul'niessa pit-fighter's scars. Aryia doesn't want to tell. Some angry signs are made. The dangers of Airship travel is discussed, and Merek has one.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A03: The TarRaCe - Bathhouse *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

A light, warm mist welcomes those entering the grand bathing chamber. Rising from pools warmed by unseen sources of heat, the moisture makes the air somewhat muggy but still comfortable to breathe. The room it fills has been divided into three portions - the dividing walls, like the bathing pools themselves, clad in pale marble that contrasts with the dark granite that bears the weight of it all.

Attendants politely direct people to changing areas and appropriate services, and ensure that no one winds up where they should not. The central pool is open to both sexes, with a strict requirement for bathing attire to be worn. Those located to either side are mirrors of each other, each restricted to one sex and discreetly guarded to preserve patrons' privacy.

Beyond the central pool a pair of massage tables offer another form of politely-supervised relaxation, with cabinets holding an impressive array of aromatic oils for the use of trained members of staff. More prosaically, signs announce the availability of a service to clean clothes while patrons wash themselves, so that they can return to the outer world fresh from head to toe.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=
Thurid       7'1"     249 Lb     Giantborn         Female    Bright-eyed, muscular, blond Giantborn woman.
Aryia        4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her.
Dax          5'0"     110 Lb     Human             Female    A 5' tall red haired human with piercings and tats.
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
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Thurid makes her way into the bathouse from the main doors- she's spent the day, a day off from her clerical duties, hard at work training, running, lifting weights. As such, she's worked up a healthy sweat, and her muscles are feeling the ache of strenuous activity. So it is that she heads into the changing room, sluggishly tears off her clothing and stuffs them into one of the slots for laundering, and then makes her way over to the baths. She slides into a particularly steamy pool, deep enough to accomodate her to her armpits despite her being over seven feet tall, and emits a grateful sigh at the hot water.

A scarred mul'neissa slips into the bathhouse, having already changed. She awkwardly walks in, holding an arm to comfort herself. The rest of her continued the rough, jagged scarring that peeked out of the confinues of her longsleeved shirt, but now instead a chestwrap and simple black swimming trunks blocked the old wounds. Old nicks and slashes across her gut, criss cross patterns over her back and abrasions on her wrists.

She gets to the edge, dips a toe into the waters, then leans over until she falls face first into it with a `sploosh!`

There's a bit of a commotion with the attendants and one of the new guests. "I can't bring in my claws?" The loud redhead is questioning, as she's being told she needs to lock up things like that. "An', I gotta take of me clothes, but can't wear nothin'?" Confusion, she's scratching her head, and then sighs and follows the attendant with something of a gruff response. Dax emerges minutes later grabbing and stretching some of the clothing she's got on. Around her hips and mid-section are a pair of metallic ruby material boyshorts that she's pulling on, grabbing cloth and pulling, to remove the cloth from the wedgie it is creating. She's barefoot, her legs are completely exposed, and so is much more of her kraken tattoo that encircles her form.

For a top, she's got the same material, but it's something of a wrap, or what might work as a more modern tube top, just some not-so-wide fabric wrapped around her chest and pinned in the back. Her armor, and clothing, being taken off to be cleaned by folks as she herself finds her way to the water. When Aryia plops face first into the water, Dax laughs, and then starts shaking with the inevitable chuckle, "Oh, ya need some bath legs, 'ere." Much more gracefully, weirdly enough, the human slides into the water near where the elf face planted.

Thurid glances up at the arrival, and offers Aryia a smile. "Hail, friend." she calls to her, tiredly, as she flops into the baths. She adjusts her position a bit, bringing in sprawled legs a bit so that she doesn't occupy an unfair portion of the available space in the steamy pool.

"Just wrap up in a towel!" she shouts advice over towards the commotion, before Dax arrives.

She draws her knees up a bit, and tilts her head to the side, moving to being undoing the multitude of plaits that side of her hair is kept in. After untying one, she runs her fingers through to seperate the hair out, and sets the tie off on the side of the tub. "How are you holding up, today?" she wonders of Aryia, tone softer and quieter.

Dax, when she settles into the bath, get's an awkward sideways nod of greeting.

Aryia raises a hand in greeting as she floats face down in the water. Slowly coasting to the other side of the bath, old, criss cross scars on her back shown. After a moment, she stands, spitting out water. "Tired," she signs to Thurid, getting to a spot to sit. She spots the newcomer, the mul'neissa sinking further in so only her head would show. <Handspeech>

Dax is settling into the water with her provided 'appropriate attire' and she grumbles, "Can ye believe the audacity? I mean, people think jus' cause men an' women bein' present in the same place yer not able ta show up and bathe like the gods intended?" A little shake of her head before she offers with a bit of disgruntledness. She offers a bit of a shrug and leans back in the warm water, "But at least there's small blessings, prudishness aside."

The redheaded human woman is leaning up against one of the side walls and has her arms hanging up on the sides of the bath, keeping herself from sinking and keeping her chest about 50/50 underwater. She wonders, "Is that some sort of ritual scarrin' or are you jus' bad at dodgin'?" It's an honest question, no ill perceived tone, even if it isn't the best social grace question. Pausing, she sighs, "Oh, right, you were one o' the ones who don't speak. Well, forget my question I 'spose."

Thurid keeps her head tilted to the side, working on one plait at a time, she nods her head at Aryia. "Ah, right. Maybe I ought fetch that helmet, though I'd feel more than a little odd wearing it in the tub." she muses as the hand signal goes over her head. Despite being mostly undressed, wearing just a breechcloth and a band of cloth wrapped around her chest and tied behind, she does wear the heavy iron chain and maul about her neck. The holy symbol of Angoron. "Ah, but I've a better idea. I'll call upon a little blessing, just this once." she says.

Finished with untying her plaits, she shakes her head a bit to get the remaining stubborn bits of hair loose from their usual confinement- though the hair retains its crinkly shape as testament to her dedication to the style- and then grips the symbol in her hand. Closing her eyes, and murmuring a prayer. With that done... nothing seems to change. "There, ought to understand your finger wiggling now. And translate for you if need be." she explains.

Turning her attention to Dax, now that's done, she says, "I agree! Nothing wrong with showing off the body the gods gave you. But then, theres folks who say we Angorite ought wear more than we oft do so I could be biased." she muses.

"I kind of like that rule..." the sinking shadow elf conveys with small signs, hands popping out of the water for a moment. Aryia blinks, her looking off to the side and sinking down to where her eyes only showed and her long ears stuck out like the fins of a fish. She waits until Thurid finishes her blessing before repeating everything she said before.

She looks at Dax for a long while, staring at her from just above the surface of the water. "Just because I can't speak doesn't mean I want to talk with people," her hands twist to say. "And no, neither." <Handspeech>

Merek will make a way into the bath house, he takes the time to put on an attire which is made to be comfortable in water, magic resistant. He then looks to people while he walks along and into the water, nodding to Aryia, Dax, Thurid, and anyone else.

The large talkative Giantborn gets most of Dax's attention, seeing as she speaks. Though Aryia gets some side glances as she still makes motions with her hands, and also sinks into the water nearly disappearing while Dax keeps herself from dipping too low at all. "Aye, the gods, or whomever, who blessed our bodies ta be as they are. They get hidden behind the veil of modesty, its a kind of imprisonment if ya ask me. In front of my fella sailors I got my tattoo, naked as the day I was born." A pause, "I think, I don't really remember bein' born, but I'm figurin' from what I've seen ... ya know, I mean, I coulda come out wit' clothes I 'spose. Stranger things 'ave happened."

Merek's joining doesn't get much more than a glance over, as she's focused on others. Though she does wave a few fingers in Thurid's direction, "Ya say you can understand 'er? What she sayin'? I know the oruchs do some ritual scarrin' which... are amazin'. Other groups as well, ain't never see a pointy earred lady sportin' such things but they all got strange gods they worship anyhow. I'd be interested in visitin' one of them temples, see it done. Been thinkin' of it meself from time ta time, fit in a bit more amongst my favorite people." She has kept on her brass toothed neckware, the piercings are clearly staying in, and all of it is made of metals that don't rust.

Thurid lets out a sudden belly laugh at Dax's two coppers. "Aye, temple of Angoron maintains the body is clay given us by the gods, and its through hard work we sculpt it. You wouldn't hide a sculpture away for no one to see it.". Glancing back, she offers Aryia a small smile and a nod of her head at her gestures, before she looks over towards Dax and offers a shrug. "Not ritualistic, and not bad at dodging- and on both counts I can vouch." she says then. "Scars have a story, but sometimes folks don't feel like telling. But, if you've an intrest-" she says and then leans back, sliding a bit away from Aryia. She brings her leg out of the water, and props her heel on the edge of the tub. "See this one?" she says, pointing a nasty one on the back of her calf- looks like she had a chunk taken out of it at some point. "Demon sheep." she explains. "Stuck me right through while I was seeing to the wounds of my allies." she explains then.

From her awkward position, she offers Merek a nod in return as he makes his way in, but then looks back to the others.

Aryia gives a wave to Merek before frowning underneath the water. Both at feeling like she was being edged out of the conversation with her words only being as loud as small splashes of water. It looks like she has something to say, but keeps it to hereself. Didn't seem like good company to share her true feelings about the topic.

Merek looks then to Thurid when she mentions demon sheep, while he sighs, then he takes a look along to Aryia and nods to the woman. He does notice that Dax was about. He is covered in white scars along the dusky skin, some that clearly look like they killed him. The man seems to be content to relax in the water, while he watches the place. The man looks then to the mul'neissa, "You are doing alright?" he asks.

"I fully agree on ta idea of a sculpture." Dax starts but then furrows her brow a bit and raises one of her eyebrows more then the other, "Though, there's a lot of them about at the temples. There sure are some I'd want them to hide away, or knock down, jus' so uninterestin'." Dax shakes her head a bit, making her hair trail and ripple water behind the strands dunking themselves, "All prim an' proper like. I'd much prefer if there be action stopped in the midst of a killin', or some of them naked folks doin' things to one another. I seen this book wit' some illustrations, an' it was eye openin' what people think ta do an' people think ta capture it down on paper. Some of that might spruce up the city, make it feel a bit less... fer the high an' mighty an' a bit more fer everyone."

Looking back to Aryia now that she has her response, though, Dax wonders, "So if it ain't be fer lack of dodgin' an' it wasn't on purpose, were ya attacked or somethin'? By a vicious beast? Somethin' like them demon sheep that this fine mountain of a woman be showin'?" To Thurid, Dax tilts her head, "Why wouldn't a person be wantin' ta share? Tha' be some kind of bullocks if yer askin' me. I think it's important ta be vocal 'bout yerself, no one else is gonna give ya the time of day less ya stand up an' present yerself. 'Sides, now I know there be some kind of farm witch's who make demon sheep. Why? I kinnit muster the thought."

Thurid notices Aryia clamming up a bit, and she brings her leg back under the water. She elbows Aryia softly in the side, and says, "Said you wanted to talk, so talk." she offers with a friendly smile. She looks over to Dax, and then shrugs at her, "Don't ask me, ask her." she suggests. "I can translate for her, don't know what she's thinking. Lending her my mouth, not my ears an' thoughts to boot." she says then. "I'm Thurid, by the by." she introduces herself.

"As for the demon sheep, was a portal. Looked like some sort of ritual went wrong, turned the local animals into demon sheep, all controlled by a demon shepherd. Sent 'em back to hell." she offers, succinctly. Which is uncharacteristic for her.

Aryia blinks, puts the words together before glancing away. Though, now her brows furrow. What's that supposed to mean?

She sits up after being prodded, a heavy scarring present on her throat. "Tell her that I don't know her. And I don't want to remember such things right now. If she really wants to know, I was a pit fighting slave and leave it at that," the shadow elf gestures, growing a bit sharper with her movements. "I've done enough presenting in my time, and don't want to be oggled like a store room item anymore, alright?" <Handspeech>

She huffs, looking to Merek. "Better than last time," she answers to Merek. Aryia did look like she had improved since last time they met, though still appeared quite tired. Getting over it, it seemed. <Handspeech>

Merek leans back, with a nod to Aryia, "I'm glad you are alright. You been up to anything interesting? I managed to find good fish," he will note, and chuckles. The man does take a look to Dax, though he doesn't comment. It's clear he does seem to want the conversation to shift elseplace, though he won't state that. The man begins to place water on the hair of his while he sighs, then to Thurid. "I found a way to keep them from finding me, which means, I can finally take a break for a while once I do it."

Thurid nods once at Aryia, watching her hand signs, and then explains to Dax- "She's not familiar enough with you to want to talk about them at length. She was a pit fighter, and a slave." she explains simply- "And these are my own words, start with an introduction mayhaps?" she suggests to Dax.

She looks back to Aryia, "Didn't mean to press. Didn't mean to talk over you, either, is all." she offers apologetically.

With her eyes opening up a bit more, Dax just shakes her head slowly, "An' that's why witches ain't to be trusted. They can even turn a sheep inta a demon. When sailin' your both cursed and blessed by havin' a witch wit' ya. I'd much rather a man or woman of ta cloth aboard. At least they got scriptures wit' rules an' all in it. Not that I ain't been friends wit' some witches, but my heart races when they be around an' I ain't sure if my thoughts be my own."

Her prejudices aside, though, she eyes the neck scar and seems to smile big, "Well ain't that a doozie. It seems like that be the reason fer yer lack of speakin' is it?" To everyone though she kind of back lifts herself out of the water and then looks down at herself, and turns about, "Ain't no scars worth mentionin' really. Most of the worst of things I been in been drownin' or had a healer nearby wit' a godly touch."

Then she hops back into the bath, making a small wave, until she's hanging on the wall again. "If I were 'er" she points to Aryia, with just one hand, "I'd be showin' off every scar I 'ad. I think a woman wit' scars be someone more interestin' than the one wit'out, an' got the backin' to prove it. Shows they got better stories, an' stories are what matter. I mean, I got stories, but most of mine are about this or that port, some sailors an' me, and the oruchs I chase afta drunkenly, usually, an' those aren't half as interestin' as demon sheep."

To Merek she offers, "Oh, the fish, aye, an' thank ye fer the meal the other day. Though it ended wit' a large bird on me." She does pause though, when Thurid comments about Aryia is saying, "I'm Dax. Nothin' fancy, no titles, no royalty, no nothin'. Jus' Dax. My captain did call me his lil' Kraken when I was a smaller girl, an' fore I got my tits. After tha' jus' Dax, an' sometimes Kraken when my mates be drunk. A pit fighter slave? See, there's an interestin' story." She smiles and nods her head some, clear that some social graces just zip right past her.

Unfortunately, Aryia didn't have a comment for Merek, her ending up standing in the water now, more scars shown. Up and down her torso, all along her gut. She jabs a finger towards Dax. "Interesting to you is torture to me. Fucking drop it, okay? I just want to relax, not remeber bad shit!" <Handspeech>

"Just drop it. They are painful memories she'd rather not relive now." Thurid says sternly, in part translating Aryia's gestures, but it's clear she's of the same mind herself. "Not all stories need to be told. And there's a time and a place for those that do." she adds, her own interperetation. A hand reaches up, and she places it on Aryia's shoulder in what she hopes to be a comforting gesture. "And you can, settle back." she says.

She looks back to Dax, then, "No offense, Dax. But you've got a talent for putting your foot in your mouth." she offers with a small shrug.

Merek looks between all of them and nods a bit, while he seems to relax and try to keep away from the conversation. All the same he offers a little comforting nod to Aryia, "I'm glad you are alright, if you ever need anything, you only need to ask me." The man does take a look to Dax and lifts a little shrug then to Thurid, "You been well?"

"Well, ain't no need ta be a sourpuss, jus' ask me ta stop askin' is all." Dax comments, and then just shrugs her shoulders a little, "What else there be to talk about then? I ain't mean no offense by nothin'. Jus' ain't use'ta people bein' so closed up is all. Ya live on a ship wit' fellas fer a few months at a time ya learn how powerful they piss an' all. Ain't no secrets fer nothin'. Not somethin' I handle well, is all, not bein' able ta talk my mind." With that she kind of looks to the side, and then around the bath area, and then takes in a deep breathe and lets it out slowly, "Ya think this place serves ale?"

Aryia sits back down with a soft splash after being symbolically held back. She nods at Merek before sighing and shaking her head. "Even I can take a hint." She crosses her arms and looks off to the side. Miffed for the time being. <Handspeech>

Thurid gives Aryia's shoulder a squeeze when she does settle back as asked, and then lets go. She grins over at Dax, "They most certainly do." she informs her then. "Though I'm told there's no food allowed in the baths, I've seen the owner herself serving up drinks here time to time." she adds. "As for what else there is to talk about, how about yourself. Said you're a sailor by trade? You in Alexandria for some time?" she asks Dax then, friendly enough.

She takes a glance over to Merek, "Well enough." she responds. "Keeping busy, though not so busy as we were at the waystation." she tells him.

"That's a good thing..." Dax mentions, in response to the ale comment, and is looking around but isn't yet willing to get out of the hot water. She offers a bit, "I was born in this 'ere city, then ran off ta a ship, more home than anywhere else I can claim. The bowels of that ship was where I learned all I need'ta know. Then came back fer a time, an' left again on some ships, before returnin'." She shrugs a little at that, "Lots of ports an' beds an' all between 'ere and there but it be the in between tha' matter most. There lies the freedom the serpent gives, an' the end in darkness we all know be comin'."

Merek nods a bit to everyone, "I'm more used to travelling by airship, though I have an artifice boat," he will note, while he thinks about it. The man nods, "I should probably even put a little work in that."

"Prefer to walk, myself." Thurid says then, and offers a shrug at Merek's comment. "And Alexandria's a fine enough place to call home. Been living here many years now. Was born and raised in a temple out in the countryside, wards of Althea, me and my mum was. Come to Alexandria a few years hence, few years 'fore I was coming into womanhood, and took my vows with the Temple of Angoron. Served as an Acolyte for some time, and got given leave to venture as one of the temples Warriors some half a year past." she says then. "Since then, duties have been keeping me busy. Seeing to the sick and injured, tending the gladiators. And took me further afield, more than once. Slew an ogre tyrant in Blar, and a demon in the fellwood. Explored a flying island in the Desolation and met a Dryad in a volcano." she says then.

Cooled off a bit now, Aryia returns to the conversation. "I used to sail a lot, too. Still do every now and then. But I think I'm going to go. Thought I was rested enough to deal with people. See you all." Aryia stands and slips out of the water, a canvas of horror stories shown from head to toe. She waves to all, then heads over to one of the more private areas. <Handspeech>

"I've been airships an' those that crash the waves. It not be much different in terms of what things be and where they end." Dax responds to Merek, though at the mention that he owns a ship she nods, "Aye, the wealthy usually do just 'keep a boat' 'round without usin' it." With that though she turns her attention back to Thurid. With her comments, Dax smirks, "Well, that be an interestin' time, but I think I'm dryin' up. I best be gettin' back ta my clothes an' whatnot, gotten myself inta more trouble than I'm worth already best be gettin' drunk an' make it worse." So she slides back up out of the bath, and stands as well, "Some time you'll have ta let me know all 'bout that Ogre. I got a real itch in me fer big fellas, but I bet he be a bit too large - if ya know wha' I mean." She chuckles as she says it, and starts to head away as well.