RP post: Soap bath for Moist

[scots_wolf]

[[from hereUrquhart's room is a little more utilitarian today, as he's got a trestle table put up, and a large project on it: many dozens of demon bunny hides, finely cured, are laid out to be put together into a large black-and-red fur blanket with an interesting pattern

Comments

[morethanprops]

"I ended up telling her the job that got me caught, she's hard to lie to. This will do, I think I can get undressed here and lean against the wall,"

Tanning isn't that unfamiliar to Moist and he notes the high quality of the work.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart will turn the skins into a large fur blanket for the three of them to desport themselves on in the winter when it's cold.

"So she now officially knows about your profession," Urquhart says. His bathroom reminds one of a medieval bath-house, all wood and flagstones. He offers Moist a stool and gets out a medium-sized wooden tub, large enough to bathe your feet in up to the knees. He fills that with quite hot water, and starts dissolving an entire cake of soap into it.

[morethanprops]

"She already did and I don't know how. She knows far too much about me,"

Moist doesn't take long in getting mainly undressed till he's just in his underwear and eying the soapy water.

[scots_wolf]

It is very hot, very soapy water.

"Yes, I got the impression that she thinks you far more important than you seem to be," Urquhart says, putting it on the floor in front of Moist.

"Put in your leg. And don't be surprised. It's going to really hurt when that soapy water reaches all the way into your gashes and there's still something in there. Soap's not just for washing."

[morethanprops]

He removes the bandage and first lowers just his toes in before plunging his leg in with a gasp of breath,

"I don't trust her and wish she'd stop paying attention to me."

[scots_wolf]

"No, she is very alarming," Urquhart admits. "And there's no way of complaining about her to Security. There's not rule against being creepy."

[morethanprops]

"Or controlling an entire race by being nice and creating a Temperance movement,"

Moist sucks in another breath, the soap does hurt a lot.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart is above 'I told you so.' He wants Moist to be fit and whole and free from any lingering infection in his leg, so he's not going to gloat and start an argument.

He also rather lacks fellow feeling and sympathy, for anybody, even for people he approves of and enjoys, like Moist or Saffron. But he does put a large warm hand on Moist's shoulder, to be comforting and supportive without going on about it.

"Controlling people by being nice is something Ladies generally do," Urquhart says instead. "I remember how my mother had it down pat. It's probably a secret they hand down from mother to daughter. Odd as it feels, even Lady Margolotta must have had a mother at some stage. But she's perfected the art on an unprecedented scale."

[morethanprops]

The hand is of slight comfort since the pain isn't stopping and a curse slips out,

"Yes, that's because its much harder to turn away someone who's being nice and polite to you,"

Moist has used that trick many a time since its effective.

[scots_wolf]

"Yes, we have learned not to be quite that rude," Urquhart says. "It takes some unlearning."

He stands behind Moist and massages his shoulders to relax him.

[morethanprops]

"Its also useful since people will agree with a lot of things if they think you're nice and on your side,"

The massaging does help, "Apparently it was deeper than I realized."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart keeps rubbing Moist's neck and shoulders. "When it stops hurting, I'll take another look at it," he says.

[morethanprops]

"Thank you,"

It takes a few long minutes, but it does finally stop hurting and Moist gently lifts his leg out,

"There."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart kneels down beside him and lifts the leg so he can look at the calf, but Moist can't, and briefly pokes the wound.

He reaches out for a pair of long tweezers, and pokes the wound again while holding Moist's foot. There is a short pull and twinge.

The, he lets go.

"There must have been a bit of hay left on that pitchfork," he says, holding up a tiny scrap of dry vegetable matter, perhaps a blade of very hard grass, or a fragment of a yarrow stalk, that he's pulled from one of the punctures. "That must have been it."

[morethanprops]

Moist winces while he's poked, but doesn't make any sounds. His grandfather taught him to keep quiet when you're hurt,

"Yes, I think he grabbed it right off the straw pile."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart discards the little scrap, and then pokes the wound again, peering at it closely.

"I think that's all," he finally declares. "The soap drew out the splinter, as it's supposed to do, I'll wash the wounds with a bit of brandy, then put on some balm and bandages, and then we can get to the good part."