Floor 32,000,201 (Winter in July) + The Abbey Of St. Phallusine

[falsicrimen]

Winter had always been his least favorite season - traveling was at its most difficult, even on foot, and harsh conditions always meant longer missions, time wasted, and frustration galore - but Abel liked to think he’d soldiered through it admirably, in spite of all its hardships, for at least half the past decade. A freak snowstorm in the dead

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[falsicrimen]

How cruel. The lady must not have been known for her benevolence, Abel decided, as he belatedly hoisted himself up onto his elbows where he was sprawled uselessly across the floor. If she thought him pathetic, she'd be far from the first - but he didn't really seem to have the self-confidence to wound with such talk, either way.

"Oh, I suppose. I heard that the rest of the guests' quarters are occupied, too, because of the storm," he said, pushing up his glasses as he listened curiously to the sound of running water in the other room. When she reappeared with a small washtub, he put on a puzzled expression, pushing himself clumsily up to sit in spite of his apparent natural aversion to exerting even minimal effort. With his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he was sure his blood would have to start flowing again, sooner or later - even if he still felt as though all his limbs had been cut from solid blocks of ice.

"Do you really think so? But I can't imagine anything less scandalous than being stuck with a bunch of priests." In spite of his clear skepticism and the cold shiver in the words, his tone was light, almost teasing. Statements like that he was not unused to, not exactly the most upstanding model of a clergyman, himself. But he was most certainly no Father Leon, either - he'd sooner have slept outside in the snow than truly unnerve her.

Looking from Tomoe to the tub of water she had offered him, Abel hesitated only a second before hastily removing his gloves (or as hastily as he could, given the present state of his hands). So that was what she'd been up to. Perhaps he'd been a little premature in forming an opinion of her true nature. "Oh, uh, thank you. I think I might just survive, now."

[ooc: pffff, it doesn't have to turn into porn. they can always just awkward at each other, NO PRESSURE.]

[willing_sheath]

Tomoe didn't emote much to anything he said, that seemingly cold air remaining in place around her (as if the actual air wasn't cold enough already). "I would agree if I had the room to myself," she answered in response to his comment about the scandal of staying in a monastery. "Sharing the same room is different--man of God or not, a man is still a man." Of course even though she was saying the words she maintained that coolness. The topic didn't truly seem to bother her, it almost seemed more a topic of conversation than a real issue--and that was ultimately the truth.

"Is it anywhere besides your hands?" she asked, letting the foottub rest on the floor. She didn't really ask permission before leaning up to brush his hair away to get a look at his ears like a pushy no-nonsense mother.

[ooc; ;; but I like porn LOL]

[falsicrimen]

If he hadn't been so accustomed to being as easily ignored, Abel might have been a little put-out by her emotionless responses. In all actuality, her behaviour was far kinder than that of his usual traveling companions. So long as her vague displeasure with him continued not to result in his immediate physical harm, that was.

"Ah? After all this time, you'd really still think that of me? Honestly, Miss Tomoe, I'm barely a man at all!" And he made no effort to take that back, even well after he should have realised the unfortunate implications; trying to look properly affronted by the very implication that he was anything less than perfectly chivalrous as she poked at him with that familiar brand of mechanical concern was far more important.

"Oh, I'm not really sure- I can't actually feel much of myself, at the moment."

[willing_sheath]

"It has little to do with what I think or what you're capable of, Father," she answered, cupping her palm around the ear she was looking at while reaching to do the same to the other all while looking... completely unfazed by the motion.

"Can you feel your fingers yet?" she asked simply. "Your hands don't look as though they are actually frost bitten. Given that, you should check your toes and otherwise I should think you are fine." Just... cold.

[falsicrimen]

"Well, what else does it matter? No one would bother to start rumors about me! I'm totally harmless, so I'm sure your perceived virtue is just as safe," he assured her, looking at her levelly as she pressed her hands over his icy ears. In truth, he felt a little guilty over their present situation; no, it wasn't as if he could have altered the freak weather in any way, but had it not meant directly neglecting his duties, he might actually have volunteered simply to spend the night sleeping in the chapel, for her peace of mind. With a few dozen feet of snow packed between here and there, however, it was just too far to be away from her without a greater threat of potential disaster. He might have been a slacker, but he wasn't a bad bodyguard, either.

"...Eh, I'm just starting to, I think!" Flexing his fingers experimentally where he still held them under the warm water, Abel nodded curtly. "But I'm so glad to hear you say that. I thought I was going to lose at least one whole limb, for sure."