Xanadu Weyr - Hot Springs
The warmth that flows from this cavern is almost overwhelming for some, the steam rising from the shimmering pools as thick as the morning fog that rolls in off the ocean. Numerous pools are scattered here and there with ribboned walls that are natural in their construction. The water has a somewhat green cast to it, but it is merely a reflection from the ethereal light which is the glow down here that was so noticeable from the tunnel leading here. People can often be found down here washing themselves or just relaxing.
Situated along the walls are various racks covered in fresh towels ready for those who step out of the warm waters. A set of shelves have been installed towards the back wall, allowing people a place to put their belongings while they rest in the pools, and despite the white color that these have been painted, they are cast with that eerie green glow. Then, it's obvious. The ceiling of this cavern is covered in the fluorescent phosphorous matter that glows are made off. The mossy substance almost glitters and appears quite lovely.
A sloped tunnel leads back to the main caverns, a single branch carved out along it to detour down into the laundry room. It allows the passage of people, but even more importantly, it allows for metal pipes wrapped with insulation that run along the ceiling to carry heated water back and forth to where it's needed.
It's the end of another day of chores, and candidates who've already wrapped up their work have the chance for a little down-time before dinner. For those who've had more strenuous tasks to complete, the baths is the go-to zone, and there are candidates dotted throughout a couple of the steamy pools. Sitting in one, soaking off a day's hard work, is Quillan, leaning back against the side with his head tilted upwards as he observes the glow-covered ceiling with an expression of awe on his face.
The baths are indeed the go-to, and since Maorin spent his day mucking around in the stables, it's definitely a stopping point for him. He's half-way to getting undressed on the way in, but he at least takes the time to set his things down where he can. He even brought extra clothes for when he's done! Offending, messy attire is moved /away/ from the clean ones though. Bleh. Then he heads into the water, dropping in with a sigh for the heat of it. "Oh man…I don't know how I ever /lived/ without these every day.."
There's a splash and a wild Fishboy appears beside him! Quillan looks down from the ceiling to Maorin, squinting at him at first, then shrugging as if to say 'whatever, he's here now'. "Can't imagine it'd be easy for a fish to live out of water for long," he says nonchalantly, leaning back again to look up at the glowing roof. "Or did they tend to tug you along behind the boat?"
"What in the world are you going on about now?" Maorin doesn't have it in him to try and puzzle through those words! He's soaking in the hot water and it's making everything rather…melted. Possibly including his brain. The teen sinks down until just the back of his head touches the side of the pool, keeping his face free of the water.
"You're Fishboy, and I was saying that it's hard for fish to live out of water, so when you were on the boat maybe they rigged you to bob along behind in the sea or something… I dunno." Quillan shrugs, a little peeved that his attempted humour fell so flat. He wrinkles his nose, snorts a little, then looks down from the glows to Maorin. "What were you doing today?"
Maorin tilts his head just a bit to the side, looking over at Quill. "Ah, but he forgets that only /he/ thinks that." Maorin is not a fish! Once he's done soaking in as much of the water as he can, the boy sits back up again. "What I /meant/ was that you don't really get to take a hot bath like this when you're at sea for days." He came here to bathe though! So he grabs at some of the soapsand nearby. "Ah, stables. Not so bad, but I think my arms are probably gonna fall off sometime in the night."
Quillan frowns at Maorin. "I know what you meant. I was just… eurgh. Forget it." Frustrated, he, too, reaches for the soapsand, and starts scrubbing roughly at his shoulders. "Stables are fine. Wait 'til you get the nursery." Perhaps someone's chore-swapping caught up with him? The curly-haired candidate does seem keen on scrubbing that one particular spot on his shoulder…
There's a laugh from Maorin, shaking his head. "Hah! Well I don't have any problem being around kids, so I think I'll be safe enough." Soapy fingers give a quick once-through in his hair then, before looking back. "What'd you get on you that won't come out?"
"Sick." Quillan gags after he says it, convulsively shuddering. Then he scrubs even harder, using his knuckles to really drive the soapsand into his skin. "Some nasty little thing puked on me." Another shudder, and he reaches out for more soapsand to keep on scrubbing where his skin is already looking very rosy. "Give me runner crap to shovel any day."
Maorin smirks faintly. Oh yes, there's the fleeting look of utter amusement, and quite possibly satisfaction…before it's gone again. "Wow, that's rough, buddy." …No it isn't. Not by his tone, anyway. But at least he's not making /fun/.
Maybe Quillan's just looking for a little sympathy, because he latches onto that insincere sentiment. "Damn right," he moans, still scrubbing. More sandsoap is needed, so he reaches over for some. Mooore. Scruuuuub. "I've done my time in there now," as if it's a punishment, rather than a chore, "so maybe they won't put me back in again. If there's a next time I'll swap with you."
"Why would I do that?" Maorin manages the question without a single hint of malice. It's an honest question, after all! He's finished with all the scrubbing though, so he simply moves to rinse off where he can without dunking himself under. "Just because you want an easier time of it..isn't a real big incentive to do much of anything for you, ya know."
"You'll do it cos you're nice, or something." Quillan doesn't really seem to have an argument for why things should be done. Just an understanding that they should be done. He stops scrubbing for a moment though, rinsing his reddened skin off by sinking low into the water. "You saying you wouldn't swap with me?"
Under he goes! Maorin comes back up, swooping that longer bit of hair back from his face before looking at Quillan again. "Nice, not a pushover. If /I've/ got something I don't want, and you've got something you don't want, then we'll talk about it." The teen moves, grinning just a bit as he climbs out of the water and grabs a towel. "Better put, nice is for friends or strangers. Since you're neither of those, business transaction is a better way to go about it. Wouldn't you agree?" No? Well that's too bad, since Maorin is already getting dressed. He keeps his towel though, sliding his feet into his shoes again before heading back out the way he came.
"That sounds…" There's protest in there somewhere, but Quillan manages to keep it under wraps. "… fair." He watches Maorin get up to go, but doesn't bother with a goodbye. He's too busy Lady Macbething his shoulder again, because will the baby vomit smell ever go away?!