If it gets me it will kill me...
Characters: Apollo and Cassandra
Setting/Location: The Showers. Because that's not awkward.
Date & Time: Day fifty, late at night
Warnings: Shower stuff (ie. sexual tension and nudity)
Summary: Cassandra and Apollo need to talk. You know, after she tried to kill him as a vampire and all.
In every world Cassandra had seen or visited, there was something special about water. It was a universal belief, as far as she could see, that water had cleansing powers that went far beyond washing the body. Far too many people in far too many places held to the idea that water had the power to clean one's soul, to bring about a spiritual rebirth, of sorts. It made perfect sense, of course. Water was life-giving in so many ways. It banished thirst and made the crops grow. Without it, there would be no life. There would be no travel. No interaction. The world would utterly stagnate.
Ever since arriving in this world, Cassandra had felt hesitation about the showers. She didn't like the fact that anyone could walk in at any time they liked. Because of this hesitation, she kept her time in the showers to a minimum, always rushing in and out as fast as possible, sometimes with soap still in her hair. Tonight was different however. She kept thinking about the stories of water cleaning the soul and so she stood under it, waiting to feel something, anything, that would take away what had happened at Fort Hood.
So far, not much.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head up and letting the water fall on her face like rain. The Trojans had a water ritual of their own. The ritual bathing of the bride and groom before their wedding ceremony. And the washing of a corpse before the burial. Weddings and funerals, for some reason, had far too much in common. There was the face covered by a veil. A solemn torchlight procession. The bathing, of course. And the hole notion of someone passing on from one state of being to another. It was somehow fitting, she thought, that she should give herself a funerary bathing. She had died after all. And if she wasn't going to experience any sort of rebirth in the shower, she might as well make the most of tradition.
Her sense of humor was truly starting to frighten her these days.
Setting/Location: The Showers. Because that's not awkward.
Date & Time: Day fifty, late at night
Warnings: Shower stuff (ie. sexual tension and nudity)
Summary: Cassandra and Apollo need to talk. You know, after she tried to kill him as a vampire and all.
In every world Cassandra had seen or visited, there was something special about water. It was a universal belief, as far as she could see, that water had cleansing powers that went far beyond washing the body. Far too many people in far too many places held to the idea that water had the power to clean one's soul, to bring about a spiritual rebirth, of sorts. It made perfect sense, of course. Water was life-giving in so many ways. It banished thirst and made the crops grow. Without it, there would be no life. There would be no travel. No interaction. The world would utterly stagnate.
Ever since arriving in this world, Cassandra had felt hesitation about the showers. She didn't like the fact that anyone could walk in at any time they liked. Because of this hesitation, she kept her time in the showers to a minimum, always rushing in and out as fast as possible, sometimes with soap still in her hair. Tonight was different however. She kept thinking about the stories of water cleaning the soul and so she stood under it, waiting to feel something, anything, that would take away what had happened at Fort Hood.
So far, not much.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head up and letting the water fall on her face like rain. The Trojans had a water ritual of their own. The ritual bathing of the bride and groom before their wedding ceremony. And the washing of a corpse before the burial. Weddings and funerals, for some reason, had far too much in common. There was the face covered by a veil. A solemn torchlight procession. The bathing, of course. And the hole notion of someone passing on from one state of being to another. It was somehow fitting, she thought, that she should give herself a funerary bathing. She had died after all. And if she wasn't going to experience any sort of rebirth in the shower, she might as well make the most of tradition.
Her sense of humor was truly starting to frighten her these days.