002; video // steel to rust
[the video clicks on when Balian is fumbling about without seeing. He'd set his device down next to his sword which given everything he's seen lately, he's not about to let it leave his reach. This place was turning into a battlefield that would put the crusaders to shame. But right now, he's not even aware, his head is in the kitchen sink, hair under the tap and what he's fumbling around for is a bar of soap. It's uncomfortable... more than just a little for the angle, considering is bare chest is still wrapped in bandages, stark white -- he's meticulous in changing them every day-- against the black and blue bruises that are spread across what can be seen of his back, mixed with the odd cut or two. He couldn't remember ever being taken such good care of.
... Well, he's washing hair at least. So that's a start towards the modern way of life. Taking the soap and scrubbing at it mercilessly under the cold water running from the sink. The water splashes everywhere, all over him and the bench, getting the bandages wet. After a few minutes and once he's scrubbed all the soap off, he stands back and shakes himself off. Something like a drowned puppy, really, hair hanging in his eye as he goes to fumble around for the towel as well, where-ever it is.
Which it's to his complete embarrassment when he notices the feed is on and he's shirtless in front of probably women, especially when he knows he looks awful. There is a hasty moment where he grabs his linen shirt, back turned as he pulls it back on.]
Didn't mean that to happen. [he tugs his shirt to sit straight, and tries to think of something to say that wasn't so embarrassing...] If anyone has any need of my services, or any kind of protection... I'll assist you. [never mind he's injured, if someone needs protecting, he'll fight. But that said, he awkwardly stares a second more, clears his throat and turns it off.]
... Well, he's washing hair at least. So that's a start towards the modern way of life. Taking the soap and scrubbing at it mercilessly under the cold water running from the sink. The water splashes everywhere, all over him and the bench, getting the bandages wet. After a few minutes and once he's scrubbed all the soap off, he stands back and shakes himself off. Something like a drowned puppy, really, hair hanging in his eye as he goes to fumble around for the towel as well, where-ever it is.
Which it's to his complete embarrassment when he notices the feed is on and he's shirtless in front of probably women, especially when he knows he looks awful. There is a hasty moment where he grabs his linen shirt, back turned as he pulls it back on.]
Didn't mean that to happen. [he tugs his shirt to sit straight, and tries to think of something to say that wasn't so embarrassing...] If anyone has any need of my services, or any kind of protection... I'll assist you. [never mind he's injured, if someone needs protecting, he'll fight. But that said, he awkwardly stares a second more, clears his throat and turns it off.]