bakerstreet | Let the water rush over you.

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Let the water rush over you.

the intimate bathing meme;

Grooming is an important part of many species' rituals. It keeps them clean, healthy, and content. And a good bath? It can change the whole tone of a day from terrible to relaxed and blissful.

But nudity is sometimes viewed as a weakness - and it is almost always sexualized - so bathing is often kept a private matter. If you do share these moments with someone, they're almost always a significant other or a sexual partner.

Like you're doing now.

Whether it be after a battle or after sex (or before sex, even), the two of you are going to get clean. Be sure to help each other out with that, won't you? After all, there are places on the back that just can't be reached...

HOW TO PLAY:

Comment with your character, your prefs, etc.
If there are other grooming-related practices or kinks you'd like to include, like shaving, hair washing, mention them!
Reply to others!

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Vincent tensed as the man mentioned his arm, fingers flexing. He'd been aware that the arm had needed some work, and had been thinking about attempting it himself, but this man had heard it? His eyes narrowed as he studied the man. Just who was this person? That was a beyond-normal level of hearing. His eyes, while red like his own, didn't look like they held the signs of one infused with Mako...

"No haircuts," he said stiffly, then mentally winced. That had sounded odd, even to himself. He gave his head a little shake. It was late, he was tired, and he just wanted to get clean... he must be falling into some sort of stupor, or something. He played with the collar of his cloak, contemplating. Debating.

This was a stranger. He had no idea who this man was, or the extent of his capabilities. That he could HEAR that his arm needed work meant that he had some above-human senses. Or he was just extremely observant. He seemed almost too pleasant, too eager to serve. Yes, this was the man's profession, and others certainly would expect that level of performance from their 'servants'... but Vincent wasn't one of those people. He didn't know how to say he didn't need the full performance without sounding rude, however.

And yet... the hot water of the hotspring was still calling to him, to soothe his aching bones. And the sound of a massage on top of that? It had been years - literal decades - since he'd had anything like that. For all that Vincent was nervous, they were here to relax... When might they get the chance again? This was a stranger, yes... but by that same vote, this man didn't know who he was, had no idea of his history. They would likely never see each other again, after his group left this town. Perhaps, in some ways, it would be easier to open up a little to a stranger, than his companions. In some aspects, at least. He felt his shoulders relax a little.

"Perhaps... I wouldn't be opposed to a massage..." he said slowly, tentatively.

[ooc: which way would you prefer to go, regarding Vincent's arm? Gauntlet, with maybe a scarred/monsterous arm underneath, or amupated/prosthetic? I can work with either.]

[ooc: Thinking gauntlet with monstrous arm beneath? Sebastian could be very much unfazed by it - or even be creepy and start praising it.]

No hair cuts it is, then. A shame, truly: he could've made quick work tidying up those wild loose ends.

Sebastian turns away from the panel, and, as if he's read Vincent's mind, he's already holding a tray with everything needed for a sinfully luxurious massage. The tray gleams silver as he balances it on one hand, his other splayed against the wood paneling as he clicks it shut.

"Very good, sir," he says, red eyes meeting red, and then he sweeps past again to set the tray down next to a padded table, half-hidden in shadow. "If I may, I can help you disrobe so we can begin the massage."

He holds out a hand, palm and fingers flat, and there might be the slightest, inexplicable gut feeling that he's motioning for a beast to come heel. Tonight his full attention will be on Master Valentine - this strange man, with a tortured soul that smells like it's been positively slow-cooked with rage and fear and more. He'd thought that the blond one had been a good start...until he laid eyes on Master Valentine. Delightful. Haven't seen a soul of this caliber in a long, long time. Vincent is one of the few worthy of his attention, he thinks, and his smile becomes a little more genuine.

[ooc: Can do! Vincent will be even more unsettled if he starts praising it. (lol)]

Vincent watched the man prepare, then gave his head a small shake. "I can take my own clothes off, thank you..." He didn't reach for the offered hand, nor did he step forward. He did get the gut feeling that something was telling him to heel, and the Galian Beast inside him growled in discontent. He wsan't about to bend to another's control, no.

A quick glance around revealed a small curtained area, where patrons would get changed. Moving smoothly and silently, he slipped into the small space, and quickly disrobed, leaving on only his briefs. He already felt awkward and nervous enough showing this much skin to anyone; he refused to completely expose himself. His clothes were neatly folded, and left on the small chair in the space, his boots placed beside it.

He had paused when it came to the gauntlet. He had to slip it off, in order to get his shirt off, but he found himself stopping before putting it back on, and glanced down at the arm it normally hid. Skin morphed from its normal pale white at the elbow, to lavender, to purple, then a dark violet by his fingertips in a smooth gradation. Fingernails were more like short, blunt claws, coal black in colour. A visual reminder - a warning - of the demons trapped within. His initial impulse was to slip the gauntlet back on, and cover it up. But then he wondered... This man had already been able to tell the gauntet had needed some maintenance. Could it be possible he could also tell what was under the gauntlet? And the thought flitted through his mind... he was curious to see the man's reaction to this arm. The man was so... different... There was something to him that set Vincent on edge and made him wary, but there was a strong curiosity brewing, too. Vincent hesitated only a moment more, then set the gauntlet down on top of his clothes. Sebastian would already see all the scars inflicted upon him by Hojo, the demonic arm was just one more aspect to it all, at this point.

Vincent stepped back out into the room, and stepped up to the massage table, back straight and shoulders square. Something about this man, and this whole situation, made Vincent not want to show any sign of weakness. So, despite the gut-twisting fear he felt at being so exposed to this stranger, he kept his head held high and expression neutral. His skin was very pale, never having seen the sun in thirty years. Old scars stood out against the pale skin. The largest, most prominent one was what looked like an autopsy scar on his chest. Lines ran parallel underneath his collarbones, meeting in the center, then travelling down the center of his chest to his navel. A similar-shaped scar would be found on his back, lines running under his shoulderblades, then down along his spine to the small of his back. There were also short, straight lines on either side of his torso, running from just about where his pectoral muscles were, down to his hips. All these scars were rather rough around the edges, as if they were stiched back up quickly and sloppily. The only scar that looked different from all of these, was a small starburst-shaped scar, on the upper-left part of his chest, just ever-so-slightly off (Hojo's aim wasn't the best, but it still had been terribly effective) over where the heart is.

Now Master Valentine digs in his heels - not entirely, but just to make a small, meaningless point. As his guest vanishes behind the screen, Sebastian clasps his gloved hands before him and waits, patient as ever, the corner of his mouth up-ticked in amusement. A welcome distraction.

Perhaps later his guest will be more comfortable with indulging in everything Sebastian has to offer.

He hasn't moved an inch when Vincent finally slips around the screen and heads to the massage table. Sebastian's expression doesn't change, though his eyes almost lazily flick across Vincent from head to toe, taking in a map of scars keeping their secret little stories and - and the arm. Oh, that arm! A thing of beauty! Delightful to behold. A pity Master Valentine feels the need to keep it covered with that gold gauntlet, but he supposes there are still standards of appropriate attire that must be obeyed.

Sebastian finally stops doing his butler statue impression as his body pivots in one graceful movement to allow Vincent to sit on the massage table, if he so chooses. He doesn't recoil or double-take at the monstrous arm or the claws, doesn't miss a beat. What kind of butler would he be if he did?

"Would you prefer to start with your shoulders or hands?" Sebastian purrs. "I can see your left one looks especially tense. Perhaps it's been trapped in that armor too long."

He half-turns so he can pull off his gloves, one by one, the gesture almost inhumanly precise. As he speaks, he'll wash his hands, toweling them dry before he turns again. His own nails are black, but blunted short like a human's, and perfectly manicured compared to Vincent's claws. Studying them, he wonders if Master Valentine would like them sharpened as well tonight.

Edited (typo fixing D:) 2020-08-13 09:17 (UTC)

Vincent sat as directed, relieved that the man hasn't reacted to his arm or his scars in any negative way. Perhaps this would be okay...

His left arm twitched a little at the suggestion. No one had ever touched it, and he was nervous to let anyone do so. Not immediately, at least. The man was handling himself very professionally, so perhaps it would be okay? His body did feel very tense - he and his companions had gone through a lot, after all, and his hesitation over everything wasn't helping things - and the idea of this massage was just feeling better all the time.

"My shoulders, please," he said softly. "Would you like me to lay down?"

"If you could, yes."

Sebastian will get to work once Vincent is situated on the massage table. For a man who seems to spend every waking second bustling around the inn, tending to the gardens and even doing repairs to the walls, his hands are surprisingly lacking in the callous department. He'll begin the massage at the base of the neck and there'll be the warm touch of some kind of lotion, smelling slightly of sage. It's heady but pleasant and it'll help make quick work of the first tension knots he finds.

As the butler works, he leans over Master Valentine, his shadow falling over his body.

"How does it feel, sir? I can tell you haven't had one of these in a long time," a pause. "Or ever."

Once Vincent had lain down, he closed his eyes. He could hear the very quiet - almost not there - sound of the water lapping against the sides of the hot spring and the soft hush of the flickering flames of the candles. He recognized the scent of sage from the lotion, and the heat from it on his back, all of it helping Vincent to relax. Sebastian's hands were warm as well, and skilled, as they worked out the very firm knots in his shoulders. He let out a short grunt as one very stubborn knot was worked upon, sighing as the tension was released. "Feels good," he mumbled, distracted for a moment by how good this was starting to feel. He was starting to feel glad that he'd decided to do this, after all.

"...It's been over thirty years," he hummed lowly. Suprising, perhaps, as he didn't look a day over twenty-seven. "Longer, even." He'd only had a massage once before - maybe twice - in his early days with the Turks. That was a long time ago, now. He'd never bothered to getting around to having one in his later days with the Turks, and then, well... Nibelheim and Lucrecia and Hojo happened... and then he spent thirty years asleep in a coffin, waking up only recently to go on a wild mission to save the world. No wonder there was a lot of tension in his body.

Sometimes human ages are difficult to tell, but the demon has learned that the general rule of thumb is height and how wrinkled their fragile skin is.

From the way Master Valentine talks, he must assume that thirty years is indeed a long amount of time for a human. Therefore, it stands to reason, he probably should look more wrinkled and stooped than he does. Odd. His fingers continue to work out the knots, Sebastian's scarlet eyes half-hooded, almost seeming to glow in the strange, flickering light of the bath as he studies Vincent's naked back.

"Is that so? My!" Sebastian laughs, a little chuckle that's oddly unhurried. Unconcerned, even, with the novel idea of a human's age not matching up. "Well, I'm glad to be the one to make you comfortable then!"

He massages away decades of hurt and worry, his hands decimating knots and aches and pains with extreme prejudice. After what seems like a lifetime, he'll finish with Vincent's neck and shoulders, pulling a step back as he clasps his hands together before him as if praying, and again smiling without teeth.

"Now, how does that feel? Where else may I attend you?"

Vincent didn't want to get into the details of just why he looked the way he did; that was just too personal a converstation with a stranger. He did find himself humming lowly in pleasure, though, as the massage went on. It was loosening up his back so nicely. He hadn't realized he had been that tense!

Once Sebastian was finished, Vincent slowly sat back up, rolling his shoulders, then stretched his arms up into the air. "Thank you. It feels... wonderful." He paused a moment to think. He glanced over to the curtained area where his clothes were. "I really feel just like relaxing in the water, now. You... mentioned cleaning my gauntlet? Some of the joints have been sticking, slightly." He frowned faintly. It was a rather menial task, and he probably could do it himself. "I do not wish to impose on you too much, though."

He should hope it feels wonderful! The day a demonic butler can't perform a simple massage and get a man to relax is a sorry day indeed.

"It was my pleasure," Sebastian murmurs. His accented voice rises as he nods, "Nonsense, it's not imposing at all! I'd be happy to do it. Here, I can work on the gauntlet while you enjoy the water. We can keep each other company."

With the normal, dreadfully dull guests this establishment typically receives, he would've taken any trifling projects like this back to another room and worked on it there. But Master Valentine is simply too irresistible, his soul a dark, bleak, gaping maw, a lovely beacon, and Sebastian finds himself actually thirsting for it, wondering, perhaps, if this man might be worthy of a demonic contract. Too soon he tells himself. After all, a demon doesn't simply jump for the first soul who looks interesting!

He'll come back with Vincent's gauntlet, taking a moment to remove the padding from the massage table and converting it to a mobile work station. Soon he has that golden atrocity laid out, fake elbow to fake claws, with a set of tools neatly laid to the side, and he finds himself almost sorry to repair it to working order. Master Vincent would be so much better off if he didn't wear this hideous thing, if you asked him.

"If I may inquire, sir," Sebastian suddenly speaks up, eyes still on the gauntlet as he hovers over it with a screwdriver. "How did you come upon this? It's...well. To put it politely, this is a step above a torture device. Surely your marvelous arm wouldn't ache if it wasn't confined to such a thing."

Vincent nodded and stood, then went to collect his towel. He wrapped it loosely around his waist, and then slipped out of his underwear, placing it with the rest of his clothes. He stepped into the pool, feeling the heat permeate his skin immediately. He stepped further in, slipping the towel off just before it got wet, then re-wrapped his hair up in the towel, so it wouldn't get wet. He sat down on one of the benches, the water coming up to his shoulders, and he leaned back with a content sigh. The water was wonderfully hot, the heat penetrating his body, helping him to relax further. It was as soothing as he'd hoped.

He turned to watch as Sebastian got to work on his gauntlet. He still was a little nervous at letting another person work on it, but the man had been professional, and he seemed very eager and willing to help. He frowned at the question, though. "It is not that bad," he said lowly. "It doesn't ache that badly, and I definitely do not see it as a torture device." Where in the world had he come up with that? Yes, it was a little tight, but... His frown deepned a bit, a hint of emotional pain entering his voice, as he lifted his left hand out of the water. "I wear it to hide this. ... It would only scare everyone more, if they saw it..." Normal people were wary enough of him already, just by his presence and demeanor. He could only imagine the fear and panic he'd cause, coming into a town with his demonic arm on full display. It just further reinforced how he wasn't fully human any more, how different he was, to be relegated to the outskirts, apart from everything, from now on. He let it drop back to his side, under the water.

Sebastian looks up. Master Valentine lifts that magnificent arm, water streaming from the claws and the purple skin, and it's such a work of art that it is with some revulsion that he flicks a glance down at the gauntlet dismantled before him. A travesty in comparison.

If he knew who crafted it, he would've been tempted to wipe the offending blacksmith from existence. For free. Without a contract.

You could consider it a gift to humanity.

"How unfortunate," Sebastian says with a heavy sigh. "You shouldn't need to hide such beauty. Please forgive my opinion if it's too forward."

He continues tinkering. A demon his age will resist the temptation to sabotage the gauntlet, to cinch the straps so the leather is weak, and swap out the screws for faulty ones, to lay his hands on the armor platting and squeeze just enough to make it impossible to put on. A younger demon may have given into the urge. But Sebastian is old and his tastes refined by a combination of age and boredom: when he says he'll do a job, it will be done to perfection, as expected of a butler.

When he finishes with this loathsome torture device, Master Valentine will find it much improved...sadly.

Edited (small prose changes) 2020-08-16 06:19 (UTC)

Vincent just frowned and quirked an eyebrow, confused and curious at Sebastian's statement. He found this arm... beautiful? How could he?! It was horrendous. It was a constant reminder of all the experiements and torture done to him. It warned others of what beasts lay inside him. How could... anyone find that beautiful?

His frown deepened as he shook his head, trying to shoo the creeping feelings of sorrow and lonliness away. He had just had a wonderful massage, and a soothing soak in the hot spring. He didn't want to let reality come crashing back in too soon. It would come soon enough; let him enjoy this night, at least.

Standing, he quickly took the towel from his hair and wrapped it around his waist again, then moved over to the curtained area to dry himself off and to re-dress. Once he was fully dressed, he stepped back out, accepting the repaired gauntlet from Sebastian, putting it back on. He did notice how it fit better, now, and didn't pinch in places that he hadn't even realized it had been pinching before. Nodding with approval, he then turned to Sebastian, and gave him a formal bow.

"Thank you for all of your hard work. Do I owe you anything for these extra services?"

By the time Master Valentine will finish dressing, Sebastian fill finish cleaning up and he'll be standing by the door this time. He shakes his head. It's with some regret that he offers the repaired gauntlet, watching as Vincent puts it on and straps it tight, the gold, fake claws curling whenever he tests the range of motion.

"Of course not, sir. I wouldn't dream of such an imposition," Sebastian says mildly. "I trust everything is to your satisfaction? Will there be anything more?"

Or will he retire like the others have? Escape into the clutches of sleep, wrapped in warm blankets and the softness of down pillows, and dream whatever it is humans dream of these days?

"Well... thank you very much for your services, then." Vincent gave his head a small shake. "I don't think so. I have done what I have come here for, and more... so I think I'll return to my room now."

He gave Sebastian another polite bow, then left the room. While there had been... odd moments, for the most part, the encounter had been a good experience, and Vincent was glad he had allowed himself that moment of vulnerability, and to indulge himself a little in a bit of luxury. He headed back up to the bedrooms, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Perhaps he wouldn't even have any nightmares, tonight!

[ooc: If you want to wrap it up here, we can... Don't really know where else we can go from this point. It's been really fun! Thank you!]

Edited 2020-08-18 08:11 (UTC)

[Gotcha, thanks for the thread]

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Let the water rush over you.

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