In Hot Water

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.

Rumors are that spring might be in the air. Unfortunately the rumors haven't quite hit the air itself and Xanadu's still a bit frostier than many would prefer. Rhodelia is one such soul that's wishing things were a bit warmer even if she's got herself in a bit of literal hot water. It's hard to tell exactly how long she's been soaking since her surely pruney fingers are staying well below the water along with everything below her chin while most of the rest of the early morning bathing crowd has already gone on to breakfast and cleaning up after breakfast and whatever other morning duties might call some people's attention.

While the general populace is taking part in their morning rituals, Percival is about to do the same. The young man finds a good spot, places his things onto the floor and he carefully sheds of the necessaries before slipping into Rhody's pool. Why her pool? Don't you know bathing in the young woman's annoyance works wonders with wrinkles? "Quit hoarding the water, Giblets."

Who, Rhodelia? Horde anything? Percival's arrival and comment is met with a snort. "You can have some back." She's even generous enough to splash a bit towards the butcher that might get dangerously close to those clean towels. Perils of leaving things close enough where you can grab them. "Speaking of giblets… you rinsed off before getting in, right?" Because she wouldn't want to be bathing with some actual raw meat parts.

"Of course," Percival says with an exasparated sigh, shoulders slumping and eyes dramatically rolling in his head. He turns his gaze to Rhodelia, smirking as he sinks down chin level with the waters surface. "Besides, we don't have the right herbs and spices. Or tubers. Need to have tubers in the soup." Because they're soup now, the butcher says so! "We'd need some more bones for the broth, too. We're only going to add so much flavor, ourselves."

"What? You didn't get the latest batch of lemony 'sand?" Rhodelia is smelling pretty citrus-y clean herself over there. Or maybe it's just normal florals. "You jest, but if you say it too loud, Leirith is going to demand a dragon-sized bowl of soup. She's going to be eating for ten or however many before too long." This warning with voice lowered enough to be a dramatic stage whisper.

Percival feigns absolute horror, peering over at Rhody wide eyed and his mouth agape. He slowly looks over to the left, then slowly over to the right to make sure the golds spies aren't out there reporting on them but he left scraps out in the kitchens so the little flying terrors are probably busy spying there. For now, he'll just grab his own sweet smelling sand, though, it's more a little bit on the sweet grassy side than fruit. "She would, too. Fortunately for her, I've got enough bones on hands to get a sizeable stock going. The tricky part would be having enough pots on hand to make a dragon sized batch. Hopefully, she'll favor desserts instead. Let 'er be the Baker's problem."

Rhodelia can't resist the opportunity with the butcher's mouth being agape and her wrist flicks a bit of water towards his face. Somewhere under a nice warm towel, one of Rhodelia's flying stomachs is probably nice and cozy, but coziness will always trump spying. The woman still gives a bit of side eye to Percival. "Baker's problem? More likely you'll all end up making a fourteen course meal. To show your badass skills. If you have them?" The last bit is more dare than question, accompanied with a wink.

"Then it looks like I'm off the hook because, alas, my dear Rhodelia. My skill level is only a mere… thirteen. Still someone elses problem. If I'm going to throw down a considerable about of effort into some soup, it'll be a small batch. I know how to handle and process meat but my cooking skills are rather limited." You just put the meat on fire til it's at the desired level of burned and then you eat it, right? Right.

"Sounds like someone is gonna need to find some friends then," Rhodelia and her very, very wrinkled fingers aren't going to touch the hypothetical-dragon-feast because if it's not booze, she really has no business making it. Either way she shrugs as she settles back down in the pool. "It can't be that hard. Just throw some stuff in and wait a bit, right? And you know at least some of what the cooks add to the soup from being in the kitchens all the time." Proximity equals knowledge, right?

"We might as well some a line of big stock pots outside over some coals and let the general populace just put whatever they want in it. It'd still be soup, a community effort. That way we don't have to suffer over making things exclusively. The rest of the weyr can go down with us and if the Bakers do nothing, I'm mentioning cheesy bread sticks. Filled with more cheese." Then Leirith can gas the hell out of Risali and it would be BRILLIANT. MAYBE. Because Leirith might be one of those gluttons for punishment that would still eat the things that sour her stomach JUST BECAUSE. "Just promise me you won't be bathing in those pots." Percival leans back finally, and just lets the back of his head rest at the edge of the pool. Doesn't seem like there's many other people to bother them so the young man chances closing his eyes for a moment. "I'm ready for this cold to go away so I can complain about the next season."

"Could make a party out of it," Rhodelia will agree. Maybe this was all just an elaborate RUSE to get an excuse for a giant party with lots and lots of food. She hmms at the mention of a promise. "That might depend on how the weather is. After a while, even the hot springs are starting to feel a bit… tepid." She's been here a while and might be as red as a spiderclaw if she were to ever actual get out of the water. Being one of the other few souls around, Percy is at least safe from any more Rhody splashing for the moment as splashing requires leaving the water for the cold air. She does give a tiny nod of more agreement. "I never liked winter anyways. At least we don't get as bad as snow as some places." There's snow, but there's nothing like the Northern mountains snow.

Giant underground parties could be had without Leirith, but would it truly be the same? Percival chuckles quietly, cracking a little smile towards Rhody. Xanadu Weyr's resident lobster queen. "Yeah, but I think I like my toastiness to be under some good heavy blankets instead. My room gets kinda cold but I prefer the cold air and the warm layers." Not the long nights in heavy coats, making sure the pots don't scorch and over cook everything into a gelatinous state. Leirith likes bovine jello, right? Some giant jigglers with vegetable floaties might appease her. "I don't like snow anywhere."

Rhodelia may have taken red being a good shade on her a bit too far trying to actually become red. "That's why you need to keep a hot water canteen or four in your bed. Or firelizards that like to lounge around the hearth." She may have tried both strategies frequently to survive the winter. And aspects might have aspects of art, but definitely not the gelatin Rhody-parties would prefer. Give her marshmallows and a campfire any day over mysteriously solidified meat-goo. She does frown a bit at the complete dislike of snow. "Really? It does make the hot klah taste better for like… the first seven." After that, she's done and over with it. The rest of the year should be spring and summer with a tiny sliver of autumn kicked in for good measure.

"Best thing about blankets is, if you get too hot, you can kick 'em off. Water bottle will eventually get cool and firelizards gonna do whatever it is they do outside of eating and sleeping. Blankets will never betray you." Famous last words, Percival. "Cold means more time in the cold stores, but outside of the cold stores. Cold means freezer burn and tossing out more stock. Cold means more of those horrible fashions women seem to think are all the rage. Next thing you know, the next fad is going to grow from those boots with the fur to pants made of fur. Not fur coats, but fur pants. With some stupid white special pattern knit sweater and a tacky vest over it. Better not forget the turns unique but not really specially spiced klah of the season. Some gourd spice klah or something." Clearly, he has reservations about the white stuff.

"Oh, blankets can betray you," Rhodelia says with all the air of experience she can muster. "Just wait until you really need to get out of bed right away for some reason but when you jump out, you leg is all tangled up and BAM!" She claps her hands together, possibly making as much noise as a face hitting the floor. She shifts as Percy goes on the list against fur, glancing back to her own pile of clothes. "Have you tried those fur pants or fur boots? They're warm. Who cares how they look?" And you can pry her gourd spiced klah out of her now lobster-red-water-pruned hands along with her other possibly basic necessities for winter life.

"That's not betrayal, that's called tough love." Blankets gotta blanket and stuff. Just like towels, and Percival is careful when he reaches out for his own. He hops up onto the ledge of the pool and drapes the towel over his head for a moment, before giving his hair a vigorous drying. Then it's wrapped around his shoulders for a good ol' pat down. "I can't say that I have. Kinda pointless you know," he begins, grinning as he rises to his feet and moves the towel around his waist. "I do grow a fine set of my own." The butcher turns to the side, giving Rhodelia a little leg before gathering up his own things. "Stay in there any longer, and there won't be any of the fancy spiced klah left."

Rhodelia has no respect for that good ol' show of leg, rolling her eyes and flicking some more water towards the soon to be departing butcher. "Not fine enough to keep you from complaining about the cold! Next winter, might wanna invest!" She taps her temple as if that's a perfectly sound tip of advice she's giving. The warning about dwaddling is soon strengthened as Rhody's own bronze firelizard appears, chittering up a storm. "SHARDS. Is it that late already???" Klah might be the least of her worries, as she's jumping out of the pool for towel and clothes, maybe setting a record for speed dressing. "Think I'm lucky enough that the headwoman will get waylaid just long enough on the way to this meeting?"

Just as Percival was about to make a fashionable towel laden exit, he glances over his shoulder with a grin. "The weyrbrats got into the sugar supply because someone left the lid off for a little too long, so I think she's busy orchestrating the clean up of that aftermath. They got into the powdered kind, too. That's not easy to clean. Scared them off with wherry head, so my kitchens are safe. The halls? Not so much. White little handprints everywhere. I think you're good to be there before her, just uh… take no chances. Don't wear dark colors." Percy offers Rhody a little wink as he chuckles off. The echoing sounds of childish shrieking echo through the halls. It's possible one or more of the home grown tiny terrors has been caught and is being bathed to free up any last bit of their energy supply… It's possible they got into more! So long as it's not the gourd spice klah, the weyr should be safe for now.

Oh no! Rhody's boots and pants with the fur might get all sugar hands! It's a chance that she'll have to take with a sigh. "Great." Because while she might be able to squeak in just in the nick of time to the meeting, an already peeved headwoman is definitely not on the list of who anybody wants to meet with. "Wish me luck? And well, good luck to you I guess." Because those sugar-fiending children might sneak back and ransack any kitchens in search of more. Either way, Rhody's got clothes on now and she's going to take the towel and run. She can totally dry her hair in the hallway while running, right? She'll try it at least.

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License