Body Heat

[justformemes]

THE BODY HEAT MEME

Post with your character! They're now stuck in a very cold place of your choice. It can be anything, such as a freezing chamber, a cavern or a small cabin in the midst of a blizzard. The choice is up to you.

Comment around! Now your character has some company in this bone-chilling environment. The two of them share two things in common: clothes completely unfitting for this weather (be they summer clothes or even lingerie) and a blanket.

A blanket? Yes, just one warm blanket and no other ways to escape the cold. The two of them will have to share it in order to stay alive in this weather. Don't worry, you're sure to find a common language in this terrible situation!

So, uh, have fun, I suppose. Try to not freeze to death!

Protip: friction and body heat are both excellent ways to fend off cold.

Comments

[teenyoda]

He shrugged, giving her a small smile. "We're not exactly stealthy, Sansa. We'll make a visible trail. A blind deaf guy could find it. The castle shouldn't be too far away and it's not like we're lost. We just couldn't go on in this. When it's over, we'll go home."

That he'd call the castle he'd been kidnapped to 'home' made him want to laugh. But she knew what he meant.

[steeledskin]

"Home--"

Her shoulders sank. And the settled upon that choice of word. That concession, of sorts, and watched him tenderly. But she did not smile. Not even when she said his name. Although I like it when he says my name. My proper name.

"So we need only survive tonight." Strength grew in her voice. "I can do it. I swear, I can."

She refused to disappoint him.

[teenyoda]

"Of course we can. We're not outside. We've got shelter. And we've got something to keep us warm. Our chances of survival have gone up like, fifty percent because of that. We'll make it till morning, then we'll head home and get them to build a huge fire and make some hot chocolate." He gave her a bolstering smile, hoping that she'd believe him, hoping that he believed himself.

[steeledskin]

Ah-ha. Here was a rhythm she knew and liked: the predictable give and take. You know, the one where Stiles gave up all these strange foreign concepts and she -- like a pecking bird -- sought to pick out the meaning out of a whole nest of strangeness. Sansa settled nearer, let her cheek fall against his shoulder, and asked the question we all knew she was destined to ask: "What, pray tell, is hot chocolate?"

[teenyoda]

"You haven't had hot chocolate yet? Okay, yeah, we're fixing that when we get back. It's not even just a Christmas thing. It's pretty much something that comes out all year round, but it's better in autumn and winter because it's a nice hot drink. Have you had chocolate yet?" He wasn't really sure what sort of candy or sweets they had other than lemon cakes where she came from.

[steeledskin]

She smiled, though it was a small and watery sort of smile.

"I have. Not back in Westeros, you understand. But here. Chocolate is very nice; I like it. It's rich and sweet and just a little bitter and one day Sigrid brought up these tarts with chocolate and raspberry and..."

And if she continued like this she was apt to make her stomach growl. Sansa exhaled. "It's not fair to tempt ourselves so with things we can't yet have."

[teenyoda]

"Sure it is. Then we have something to look forward to. Hot chocolate is like... it's chocolate mixed with hot milk and if you're lucky, you can find some marshmallows to toss in. It's sweet and hot and perfect for cold nights. We'll have some when we get back. Lots of it. And maybe you can ask Sigrid for some of those tarts. They sound good." No one tormented Stiles like Stiles tormented himself. God, he wanted some hot cocoa. And pizza. And hot dogs.

[steeledskin]

She sighed into his shoulder and shut her eyes against the temptation -- only to see visions of the same slink along behind her lids. Chocolate and tarts and she even tried to imagine marshmallows with nothing but their names to conjure a picture. "How cruel!" Sansa objected, but not without much force and certainly not without a mild smirk. "You will make us both hungry with talk like that."

And yet: "Do you drink it as you drink tea? Or is it spooned from a bowl, like soup?"

Hot chocolate.

[teenyoda]

"Better to be hungry than the alternative." Which was dead. But he just shifted a little to try to make her a bit more comfortable on his shoulder. "It's like tea, only better. Big mug and the marshmallows float in it until they melt or you sip them up. It's delicious. You'd love it."

[steeledskin]

"The alternative," she chided him, "is to have our tummies full and our persons tucked under more furs than this. Before a roaring fire." But then Sansa paused, shook her head, and corrected herself: "Roaring fires." Plural. Separate. In her indulgent fantasy she must not allow them to be sharing that same fire's heat -- after all, what they shared now was only due to a lack of other options.

Even so, she snuggled nearer and suppressed a shudder as she leached his warmth.

[teenyoda]

He caught the slip and he smiled, wishing he could lift his arm over her shoulder and let her tuck in more. That might have the wrong effect and he wasn't up to having to try to talk her back into doing this, especially not when he could feel it starting to get warm under the blanket. "Mm, that'd be nice. After a nice hot bath. Bubbles for you, of course." Yep. She seemed like a bubble bath kind of girl.

[steeledskin]

"What do bubbles have to do with a bath?"

Bubbles were a waste of precious soap, Stiles! Or at least some magical byproduct of modern soapy science. The hard old-fashions soaps with which she was familiar did not lather into frothy walls of bubbles and foam. She was fortunate to receive a few suds as she scrubbed.

[teenyoda]

"... Oh wow. Okay, when we get back? I'm finding bubbles for you. It's a sort of... liquidy soap thing you put in the bath while it's running and it bubbles up and, you know... bubbles."

[steeledskin]

Sansa shook her head.

"It isn't your duty to prepare my baths, Stiles." Gods forbid. "Sigrid does; it may be she knows something of this...liquidy soap."

[teenyoda]

Okay, that got him a little flustered. "I wouldn't prepare it myself. Just find the, uh, the stuff. So you could. Or Sigrid. Or... stuff. For the bath. Not me. Near the bath."

[steeledskin]

The fluster was mutual. She hunched her shoulders together and stared across the room -- this avoidance of his gaze was made easier by the fact that she was sat next to him already. And although she stiffened at his side, it would be more fuss to extricate herself than to stay here. Quiet. Pleasant. Patient.

"O-of course. It wouldn't be seemly." Because you're a man and I-- "You're no servant. Certainly no handmaiden."

That would have to do.

[teenyoda]

He snorted at that, cheeks still a little pink but his head ducking as he shook it. "It's really... weird to hear you talk like that. I mean, not you, but... about servants and stuff. Most people do things for themselves where I come from unless they're unable to. Like... disabled or too old or too young. Especially stuff like that. Personal stuff."

[steeledskin]

"For themselves!"

She blew a long breath out her puffed cheeks. And she gave her head a shake. "I would be lost without Sigrid to prepare the water and work the comb through my hair." Sansa could do a lot of things: dance and sing and play the high harp. But the sheer trouble of having had to wash her own hair was borderline traumatic.

[teenyoda]

He couldn't help it; he laughed. It was quiet and he was trying to muffle it, but he was still laughing. "That's probably because you haven't had to do it yourself. When you get brought up to learn to be independent, it's kind of... grating to have someone trying to do everything for you."

[steeledskin]

Independent. Very little about how she was raised tended towards independence. Indeed, being here had made her miss the simple pleasures of having someone to pour her drinks for her. Or to tie the stays upon her dress. For propriety's sake, she could not outright explain to him that there were things that one simply could not do for herself.

But she tried: "Some tasks are built for two people. They would be impossible alone."

[teenyoda]

"Sure, like sports and stuff. But basic self reliance? This isn't me picking, Sansa, this is me pointing out a difference. We're taught how to dress ourselves by the time most of us are three. We learn how to read and write and take care of ourselves. Only the upper crusters have butlers or maids and even they don't need help getting dressed. Part of it's clothes styles since the whole corset thing went out a long time ago, but we sort of value our independence. It's a thing with us."

[steeledskin]

Well. She was pretty upper crust herself.

"A knight does not don his own armour. He has his squire to help him. He ought to. Why shouldn't a lady have her help as well? Not every dress can be tied alone." She frowned, feeling a little piqued by the accusation. "You make it sound as if I must be incapable: I assure you, Stiles, I can perform those duties myself if I must. I can read and I can write and I know..."

I know how to play the game.

"And I take good care of my handmaidens. Or I aim to."

Now. These days. Once, she was not so sweet. Once, she was rather ignorant. But times change.

[teenyoda]

"Kind of another difference. We've made our clothes so that we can put them on ourselves. Same with body armor and vests and stuff. Might be a big difference there." It was a huge difference and he knew it. But getting dressed all by himself like a big boy had been a thing growing up and he couldn't imagine just standing there while someone put clothes on him.

[steeledskin]

"Quite. I would very much like to see you attempt to tie your own stays, Stiles--"

Only. You know. She didn't literally want to watch. That might be weird.

[teenyoda]

"Do guys clothes have stays?" He grinned where she (hopefully) couldn't see it.