Lingering some several yards yalms from the entrance, Erichthonios observes the Oca Street Bathhouse with interest. 'Tis an inviting presence, evoking something of a sense of calm in comparison to the incessant visual overstimulation of the more technologically-inclined parts of the city. A proper bath sounds nice. Very nice, but he hasn't worked up the courage to investigate further just yet.
II. Observations
Once inside, Erichthonios quickly immerses himself in reading, pouring over details about the place and all it has to offer -- a course of action that has him gently fluster as soon as he reaches the portion covering massages. The thought of someone laying hands on him -- a stranger, of all things -- spurs a quiet discomfort, the bright-haired man wincing. It's intimate. Too intimate for him.
His reaction is enough to spark some gentle teasing from a random client, and he shoots them a perturbed, if mayhap slightly pouting, look.
The tension passes, though, and he soon returns to reading. Past the massages, and onto the baths, and then the list of aromatics-- he pauses at the Rose selection, then colors faintly, a hint of red touching his cheeks before quickly moving on.
III. Therapeutic Pool
Shy creature that he is, Erichthonios does not opt to go publicly naked in a very public bath. Rather, he retires to a much smaller room, dipping into sunken bath with heated water, the fragrance of heady sandalwood and sweet jasmine rising with the steam, a few stray jasmine flowers floating atop the water's surface as he soaks.
A worker comes in to check on him now and then, the skittish Erichthonios dunking down into the water so deeply each time that only nose and eyes remain above, nods for yes and head shakes for no to each question asked of him -- is everything well, is the water to his liking, does he need anything else? Yes, yes, and no.
'Twould be more relaxing, he thinks, if he could but bathe alone in peace, even though he simultaneously frets that it might be rude to ask to not be disturbed for a while.
Alas, the door is unlocked, and anyone might wander in.
Erichthonios | Final Fantasy XIV | Wide Open
Lingering some several
yardsyalms from the entrance, Erichthonios observes the Oca Street Bathhouse with interest. 'Tis an inviting presence, evoking something of a sense of calm in comparison to the incessant visual overstimulation of the more technologically-inclined parts of the city. A proper bath sounds nice. Very nice, but he hasn't worked up the courage to investigate further just yet.II. Observations
Once inside, Erichthonios quickly immerses himself in reading, pouring over details about the place and all it has to offer -- a course of action that has him gently fluster as soon as he reaches the portion covering massages. The thought of someone laying hands on him -- a stranger, of all things -- spurs a quiet discomfort, the bright-haired man wincing. It's intimate. Too intimate for him.
His reaction is enough to spark some gentle teasing from a random client, and he shoots them a perturbed, if mayhap slightly pouting, look.
The tension passes, though, and he soon returns to reading. Past the massages, and onto the baths, and then the list of aromatics-- he pauses at the Rose selection, then colors faintly, a hint of red touching his cheeks before quickly moving on.
III. Therapeutic Pool
Shy creature that he is, Erichthonios does not opt to go publicly naked in a very public bath. Rather, he retires to a much smaller room, dipping into sunken bath with heated water, the fragrance of heady sandalwood and sweet jasmine rising with the steam, a few stray jasmine flowers floating atop the water's surface as he soaks.
A worker comes in to check on him now and then, the skittish Erichthonios dunking down into the water so deeply each time that only nose and eyes remain above, nods for yes and head shakes for no to each question asked of him -- is everything well, is the water to his liking, does he need anything else? Yes, yes, and no.
'Twould be more relaxing, he thinks, if he could but bathe alone in peace, even though he simultaneously frets that it might be rude to ask to not be disturbed for a while.
Alas, the door is unlocked, and anyone might wander in.