Day 41: Men's Showers (4th shift)

[longlivetehking]

Scar had realized it during the announcement after breakfast, and he had proceeded to create reluctance for it during the whole day, right until this very moment. Today was shower day. Shower dayThe staff had to practically drag their charge into the damp rooms after lunch. Had he been in the possession of his old nails, he would have stubbornly

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[no_barbarian]

Going the rest of his meal with coleslaw in his hair hadn't been the worst thing he'd ever endured, but he wasn't keen on smelling like cabbage all day. Was this going to be some kind of trend? Was he always going to have some foul-smelling plant life to wash out of his hair?

Showers weren't particularly traumatic. Teisel had never really learned to be body shy, and as far as he was concerned he had no reason to be. Passing by one of the mirrors, however, he caught sight of something that gave him pause. Zex had left marks, and whatever stupid, worthless voodoo healed injuries overnight apparently didn't do a thing about bruises. That was just great. It was a good thing he'd wrapped his hair around his neck earlier, after all. The cafeteria wasn't particularly bright, but they sure as hell would have shown up in the sun. Well, whatever. It wasn't likely that anyone would dare say anything about it, anyway.

Sighing, Teisel picked out the first empty shower head he came to and turned on the water, standing clear of the spray until the initial 'oh-holy-god-so-cold' bit was done with. Taking his hair tie out, he wrapped it around his wrist. As usual, he scrubbed himself down quickly to leave more time to wash his hair, which was always a big job. Especially here, for some reason, he mused as he watched bits of cabbage and the occasional julienne carrot float off toward the drains.

[free, limit: any]

[deadlyjuliet]

"N-No! I s-swear I don't need a shower!" Grell gripped the edge of the door to the dressing room as hard as he could with a sprained finger and yelped when the nurse tugged on him again. "I don't need one! You can't make me go!"

"Mr. Burnett, this is hardly acceptable behavior! Let go of the door at once!"

Another tug and a pained yelp later, Grell found himself stripped and thrown into the horror that was public showers yet again. Why on God's green earth did humans subject themselves to this?! It was indecent and unacceptable for a lady to be showering with men and only worse that it was him who had to suffer for it. Didn't they realize he had delicate sensibilities? Taking a look around the room, he flushed bright red and started for the door again, only to run full force into a wall of nurse. The woman glared at him, pointing a finger toward the showers and Grell balked, hung his head, and did as he was told.

Eye candy or not, this wasn't appropriate and he wanted it done and over with as soon as possible.

Going to the closest stall, Grell turned the water on full force and hid himself beneath it, glad that his vision was slightly impaired without his glasses. Unfortunately, it wasn't impaired enough for him to ignore who he had just found himself next to. Teisel Bonne, the pirate from before, now adorned with carrots and cabbage from lunch. Lovely.

"...you, ah, missed a spot. On your shoulder."

[no_barbarian]

"Oh, thanks. This stuff really gets everywhere, y'know?" Sure enough, there was a little glob of soggy cabbage on his shoulder. Flicking it off, Teisel raked his soaking hair out of his face to look at his helpful neighbor. Sutcliff, was it? Something like that.

"Say, you're that butler, aren't you? What's the matter, water too cold?" Sutcliff looked downright dejected. Teisel would have thought that a butler would enjoy bathing. They liked things to be clean and orderly, didn't they? Wasn't that sort of their job, or something? Leaving aside his musings on what it was that domestic servants actually did when they weren't bringing people drinks on those nifty little silver trays, Teisel got some of shampoo from the pump and started working it through the lower third of his hair. This would take a while.

[deadlyjuliet]

Grell really did know, but he didn't want to talk about it. A few too many mishaps in the kitchen had all but scarred him - once quite literally - and he wasn't about to venture back there if he could help it. Of course, he wished he weren't stuck in a communal shower either, but he really had no choice in the matter. Grabbing the soap, Grell stepped out of the spray of water long enough to lather up his cloth and then started washing, keeping most of himself hidden. He hated being this exposed. It was positively indecent!

But Teisel was talking, wasn't he? Bother. "Ah-yes... I'm the butler. Grell Sutcliff, Mr. Bonne." Fidgeting slightly as he tried to both hide himself and get clean at the same time without drowning under the spray of water, the death god sighed. "And no, it's not the water. I'm unaccustomed to doing this sort of thing in...public. Doesn't it bother you any?"

[no_barbarian]

Hmm. So Sutcliff was one of those types. The guy had seemed a little uptight yesterday, so it wasn't so surprising. "No. Why would it?" Teisel shrugged, getting more shampoo to start on the next section of hair. "We're all here for the same reason; it's no big deal." Sure, he'd have rather had some privacy, but everyone here had the same junk and most everyone was concerned with getting themselves clean and not much else. What was the point of being self-conscious about it?

"Y'know, Sutcliff," he went on, pointedly looking at the wall, "You're actually gonna draw more attention to yourself huddled there like a kicked dog." Finger-combing the last of the coleslaw out of his hair, Teisel cracked his neck. Showers were nice, but the downside was that the water made his hair a lot heavier than it already was. Pulling some of it forward over his shoulders to even out the weight, he got yet more shampoo and continued. "Confidence is the thing. Relax, and no one will look twice at you."

[deadlyjuliet]

It was a big deal! It was a very big deal! He was stuck in a shower full of naked men. How could that not be a big deal?! The temptation to look and the knowledge that it was probably going to result in him with his head beaten in for being lewd and somehow or another against regulations fought a never-ending battle in his head. More than the temptation, however, was the feeling of absolute horror at being so-- Oh, look, Luxord. Talking with another man like him, and some blond. Momentarily distracted at the sight of his newest companion, Grell shook his head and then dunked his head under the water. If he started blushing now, would it be terribly out of character for his role?

"It is a big deal!" he managed to say, although most of the words were muted by the water. Pulling his head back, he gasped for air and then quickly started lathering shampoo into the long strands. Thankfully, the blood was already gone, or he'd have had a hard time explaining it away. Grell pulled his head back just in time to hear Teisel giving him a bit more advice and the death god balked. "But I don't want them looking at me at all! And I'm not a kicked dog..."

[no_barbarian]

"Why? You got a weird birthmark, or something? A regrettable tattoo, maybe?" Leaning a bit to see if he could catch sight of any deformities or someone's name scrawled on an embarrassing body part, Teisel couldn't see anything worth making a fuss about. He also realized, a little belatedly, that Sutcliff probably didn't want to be looked at by him, either, so he turned his attention back to his hair.

"If you don't want them looking at you, then you shouldn't act like you've got something you don't want them looking at, is all I'm saying." Sutcliff trailed off so softly that Teisel couldn't quite catch the last part of what he'd said, but it'd sounded sort of...huffy. "Just relax. Jeez, you act like someone's going to jump you."

[deadlyjuliet]

Birthmarks and tattoos were things he did not have. Regrettably, God had not seen fit to give him even so much as a beauty mark. He did like having such perfect skin, but a mark or two to let a lover find was always so exciting. But since he was just laid bare for anyone to see, he was rather glad he had nothing in particular to draw attention. A lady's skin was only meant for her beloved! ...not that he particularly cared about the Victorian notions as much as others did.

Still. Teisel was looking at him and Grell jumped, huddling further under the water spray. Why did someone he had no interest in have to go and stare at him like that? "I don't! N-nothing at all!" Just to keep his idle hands busy, Grell quickly started to wash his hair, regretting now that it was so long. Washing was a pain, but drying it out would be worse. At least it helped hide him a little. "And they just shouldn't look. It's improper..."

Grell cleared his throat and pulled back from the shower head, gently squeezing the water from his hair. He sighed and then lowered his hands, picking up the washcloth again. "And someone is going to, I think. He's been threatening to kill me... At least, that's what it sounds like."

[no_barbarian]

Yeah, Sutcliff hadn't gone for that at all. Teisel hadn't even been staring, or anything creepy like that. "Well, if there's nothing wrong with you worth looking at, then what are you so wound up about? Islanders," he tutted, shaking his head. There were some things about people he'd never understand, apparently.

Ah, death threats; now that was more interesting. "Really?" Teisel looked down at Sutcliff incredulously, one eyebrow raised. "What did you do to get someone that mad at you? No offense, Sutcliff, but I don't see much about you to inspire homicidal rage, y'know?" It was like getting murderously angry at a guinea pig. Pointless, and a silly overreaction.

Glancing around the room, Teisel looked for anyone who looked like they were giving Sutcliff the fish-eye. Nope. Not a soul. "So, who was it?" It wasn't that Teisel felt any kind of protectiveness over Sutcliff, really. They weren't allies. But if there was a guy here unstable enough to think Sutcliff the Wet Blanket Extraordinaire was worth killing, then Teisel would prefer to stay well away from him.

[deadlyjuliet]

Sighing, Grell dropped his shoulders and shook his head. "It's a cultural difference, I believe, sir. We English prefer such things as this in private. To be... so open about such private affairs is indecent and, well, it's unsettling, to be honest." There, that sounded like the right sort of response for a twit from the Victorian era. Honestly, Grell had never understood that whole 'stifle your sexuality' thing. Neither he nor the Madam had much cared for conventions, but he had watched England close itself off more and more as the centuries wore on. Thankfully, he'd also been witness to other cultures doing the same - and he knew that eventually, they'd wisen up.

When Teisel asked what he'd done to earn a death threat, Grell waved his hands in vehement denial. "Nothing! I don't know! He just... someone accused me of harming them and then this person on the bulletin says he wants to beat me into a pulp for revenge and--" Grell shrank, almost visibly trying to sink into the floor. "I don't know how it all came about or who is doing it-" Definitely Tim. That brat. "-but I just wish they'd leave me alone. They even posted my name and the name of a gentleman who helped me when I fell down the stairs to that torture post. Is it really so terrible to be a butler, sir? I didn't think I'd inspire so much hatred just for being, well...me."

[no_barbarian]

"Hell," Teisel chuckled, "it's not like I wouldn't rather be on my own, but it's just a shower. England must be a riot," he added, imagining a whole island populated entirely by cringing little flowers like Sutcliff with almost predatory glee. It was too bad he'd never get a chance to go there (never mind that he'd promised Sutcliff he wouldn't pillage and burn his home if he ever did get the chance); the residents would probably be too scandalized by how very improper piracy was to fight back.

Teisel took a minute to work what had to be half the dispenser's worth of conditioner through his hair while Sutcliff flailed around. What a strange story. "He's claiming you did what? Sorry, guy, but I can't really wrap my head around the idea of you hurting anyone." As far as Teisel could recall, being excessively apologetic and stuffy had never broken any bones or spilled a drop of blood. Unless the aspiring murderer was pissed about something else entirely. "Hmm." Why would the guy have to use an excuse like that? He'd have to be covering for something shameful or embarrassing... "Hey!" Struck by a sudden realization, Teisel grinned down at Sutcliff, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe he thought you were a woman, and now he's all pissed off. I can't be the only guy who's made the mistake, and some folks don't take that kind of surprise too well, y'know?" Guys had killed over less, after all.

[deadlyjuliet]

Teisel didn't know the half of it. So much of London ran on the assumed principles of Victorian propriety, while the actual city thrived on the raw desires of man and man's derision for the law. It was such that the Queen even had a little lapdog to do all her dirty work, and such that places like Whitechapel thrived enough that the whores working there could afford medical care at inner-city hospitals. Calling England a 'riot' only covered half of the story. Seemingly missing the joke, Grell sighed and shook his head. "Not so much, sir."

While the other man worked a conditioning solution into his hair, Grell peered at the bottles lined up, trying to figure out which was which. He'd seen the color of Teisel's bottle, so if he could just... Aha! Got it. Not the same thing as the Madam used (and her hair always looked so nice), but it would do. Threading it through his hair, Grell listened halfheartedly as Teisel worked out a reason for Tim's homocidal tendencies. Grell had almost finished working the product into his hair when Teisel seemed to reach an epiphany, nearly scaring Grell in the process as he grinned down at him. "W-what?" Lord, but it did sound plausible. If Teisel wanted to think that, Grell would play along. "Y-you really think so? You think someone would want to kill me just because of that?"

[no_barbarian]

"Yeah, what's the opposite of a riot?" Groping for an appropriate term, Teisel tried to recall what he could about hoity-toity events that could work. "A...garden...party...?" he tried, lamely. "Is that what it's called? You know, those ones that aren't really a party so much as folks standing around outside talking about boring shit, and there's no music or booze." With a derisive snort, he stared rinsing his hair. "I got invited to one of them once during my honest year. Some charity thing, or whatever. Boring. Those things are anti-parties." He recalled that at the time it'd been all he could do to keep himself from throwing someone into the punch bowl just for the sake of actually doing something. Associating with those people had made him feel like a tool, but an island full of those privileged twits would be very entertaining from the bridge of an airship. It'd be almost like buzzing a herd of cattle.

Maybe he would have to see if he could find out how to get to England...

Teisel wasn't a stupid man, but once he decided that he was right he wouldn't budge an inch. The fact that Sutcliff hadn't flat-out rejected his theory was as good as agreement, as far as he was concerned. "Sure." He shrugged. "I've heard of guys getting killed because they sneezed on someone--some folks don't need much reason to haul off and club a guy to death with a bar stool." Not that there were any bar stools in here, but it was the principle that was important. "And you do look pretty girly, sorry to say."

Done washing but in no particular hurry to leave, Teisel stood under the spray, pensive. "Though I guess he could stab you, too. Or strangle you. Or throw you down a stairwell, or push you over the second-floor railing. Or drown you in a toilet bowl. And a lot of the doors here are pretty heavy..." In a flash of self-awareness, he shot Sutcliff an apologetic look. "Er...you might wanna keep your head down for a few days, I guess."

[deadlyjuliet]

"But garden parties can be... well, I prefer the night balls, but, um, I suppose." England was certainly not a garden party. For all the complaining he did in his head, Grell had to admit that being the Great British Empire had its perks. They controlled a good portion of the world and thus enjoyed all of its wealth. The evening balls were the best part though. The women adorned themselves so beautifully that it was like watching a parade of angels on Earth. "Oh, but the balls ha-- wait, honest year?"

Teisel Bonne had an honest year? Had he been struck on the head? Grell would have killed to see a pirate on an honest year. It would have been grand to bait him into doing something spectacularly dumb. Kind of like what he was doing now, listing all the ways Grell could get mauled and dismembered here without his powers. Clubbed to death with a bar stool? Drowned in the loo? Good Lord, he was glad he never had to visit a death scene like that. He wouldn't have been able to stop laughing for days. For each example Teisel gave, Grell seemed to shrink further into the ground until he was practically cowering at the very thought of all those horrible things that would never happen to him since he'd kill the man who tried before he ever laid a hand on him. "Ohgodohgodohgod-I'm going to die here!!"

[no_barbarian]

"Um...yeah." Teisel fidgeted with his hair. "I'm not sure what got into me, actually. I guess the last couple years had just been a little too exciting, in a bad way. The family used to be merchants way back, so I figured I'd take a break and try my hand at that for a while. Sort of an experiment, y'know?" That storefront had been sitting empty for years, and they'd been stranded on that island with no airship anyway... It had all seemed so sensible at the time, but looking back on it, Teisel suspected he may have had a touch of some exotic brain fever. And, in some quiet corner of his mind, maybe he'd wanted to prove something to himself. That he could live however he wanted, that he wasn't one of those dumb criminals who just couldn't manage anything else.

Considering that the sum total of Teisel's understanding of commerce could be poured into a shot glass with room left over, he should have known how things would turn out. "Eh, but it wasn't that great. Too much damn work for what you get back. And say what you will--I may be a pirate, but at least I'm not a goddamn businessman. At least I let people know that I'm robbing them." Frowning, Teisel recalled the nasty shock of finding out that respectable society had its own pirates, and it hadn't taken long for them to outmaneuver him. He'd had his throat cut, and he hadn't even realized it was happening until it was far too late.

He was pulled out of his reverie by Sutcliff's panicked squeaking. Poor guy. Still, understandable or not, it was a little disgusting watching him give himself a heart attack like that. "Oh, you will not!" He rolled his eyes. "Well...maybe you will. But pull yourself together; it's not like he's going to tear you limb from limb right this second." Clicking his tongue in a disapproving sort of way, Teisel leaned back against the wall. "Just get one of your scarier friends to stick by. You seem pretty agreeable, you gotta have someone around here who'd watch your back." That was the point of making alliances in here, right? Sure, mostly it was the inmates against the head doctor and the monsters, but it'd be naive and stupid to assume that the inmates were all safe.

[deadlyjuliet]

Grell knew all about businessmen. He knew one quite intimately, actually, a certain twelve year old cutthroat who would do well to learn that it was only because of his butler that he wasn't dead at the moment. Really, who ever heard of continuing a fight after it was long over? Grell had lost interest in Ciel the moment she had fallen from grace; and it wasn't until the brat tried to have him reaped that he won the death god's wrath again.

Grell couldn't picture Teisel as a businessman. It didn't suit him and likely resulted in having more people than deals punched through.

And back to the act. Grell was trying not to hyperventilate at the thought of being killed (or rather, doing a brilliant mockery of the act if he was given any say in the critique), hands clutched against his chest as he imagined the various ways the Mysterious Murderer was going to do him in. Lord Almighty, he hated having to play this part sometimes. It was certainly handy is passing suspicion off onto other people, but it was a pain to keep up after awhile. Forcing himself to calm down, Grell took a few deep breaths and then regretted it when he actually found himself getting dizzy. Stepping forward, he put a hand against the wall and closed his eyes.

"...I don't have scary friends, Mr. Bonne. I don't really...have friends here." Well, that wasn't true. Grell straightened a little, as if he'd gotten the wind back in him and fidgeted with the shower knobs, trying to turn them off. "Well, there's Mr. Rould, er, Luxord? I believe, yes. And There's Miss Sheena, but I wouldn't want to bother them with this. They both have previous engagements and people they're indebted to." Save for Luxord, who couldn't feel indebted to anything but himself. "...do you really think he'd tear me limb from limb?"