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Strawberry #24. Ink
Rating : not sure... nothing beyond a G rating happens in the piece...
Timeframe : winter 1255
This so not a stand alone piece, but given the prompt I just couldn't help myself. I actually wrote it right after the boots piece and I wanted to save it till it had some hope of making sense, but what the heck...
Lyssa gave the pump a final tug, sending another burst of water into the steaming basin. She unlaced her dress and pulled her arms from the sleeves. With a great deal of squirming, she managed to slide the garment down over her hips. It wouldn’t do to ruin the thing by pulling it over her head. She carelessly let it fall to the floor and took a step out of the resulting pool of fabric at her feet. Lifting it by a sleeve, she held the dress at arm’s length to inspect its surface, which, thankfully, was clean. She scarcely needed to examine her hair to know this was not the case where it was concerned.
Thank the Gods for the private bath. She must have looked quite foolish and was more than grateful to be spared the need to make a spectacle of herself. Of course, she would have had more than enough clever comebacks to satisfy any number of comments, but she was glad not to need them just the same.
Lyssa dangled a foot into the tub and sighed as her toes dipped beneath the water’s warm surface. Scrubbing and scraping aside, this was promising to be a satisfactory end to a far more than satisfying day.
The water came nearly to her shoulders, enveloping her entire body in its soothing warmth. Then her hair settled on the surface and all thoughts of lounging in the tub were quickly dismissed, as the ink seeped from her hair to the bath. A thin film of the sticky black liquid spread itself across the water’s surface.
With a sigh, she dunked the remainder of her hair, releasing billowing clouds of black into the water. Was there even a drop left in the inkwell, or had every trace of it found its way to her? It had been the last thing on her mind at the time, but now that she was faced with cleaning it up, she was rather curious.
Lyssa twirled her hair beneath the surface, forcing water over it until the strands began to separate. She raked a comb through it, tugging and straining until she was afraid she might dislodge more than just ink. With every passing moment the water grew darker. She picked up a bar of soap and scrubbed until she had heaped the tub with mounds of black bubbles.
After struggling with the mess for what seemed like ages, she emerged from the bath victorious and toweled herself off. With a little patience, the whole ordeal would have been unnecessary, but she quickly rejected that notion, determined that every effort had been more than compensated for. Now, she wondered as she pulled the stopper from the drain, how much trouble was it going to be to clean the mess from the tub?
Rating : not sure... nothing beyond a G rating happens in the piece...
Timeframe : winter 1255
This so not a stand alone piece, but given the prompt I just couldn't help myself. I actually wrote it right after the boots piece and I wanted to save it till it had some hope of making sense, but what the heck...
Lyssa gave the pump a final tug, sending another burst of water into the steaming basin. She unlaced her dress and pulled her arms from the sleeves. With a great deal of squirming, she managed to slide the garment down over her hips. It wouldn’t do to ruin the thing by pulling it over her head. She carelessly let it fall to the floor and took a step out of the resulting pool of fabric at her feet. Lifting it by a sleeve, she held the dress at arm’s length to inspect its surface, which, thankfully, was clean. She scarcely needed to examine her hair to know this was not the case where it was concerned.
Thank the Gods for the private bath. She must have looked quite foolish and was more than grateful to be spared the need to make a spectacle of herself. Of course, she would have had more than enough clever comebacks to satisfy any number of comments, but she was glad not to need them just the same.
Lyssa dangled a foot into the tub and sighed as her toes dipped beneath the water’s warm surface. Scrubbing and scraping aside, this was promising to be a satisfactory end to a far more than satisfying day.
The water came nearly to her shoulders, enveloping her entire body in its soothing warmth. Then her hair settled on the surface and all thoughts of lounging in the tub were quickly dismissed, as the ink seeped from her hair to the bath. A thin film of the sticky black liquid spread itself across the water’s surface.
With a sigh, she dunked the remainder of her hair, releasing billowing clouds of black into the water. Was there even a drop left in the inkwell, or had every trace of it found its way to her? It had been the last thing on her mind at the time, but now that she was faced with cleaning it up, she was rather curious.
Lyssa twirled her hair beneath the surface, forcing water over it until the strands began to separate. She raked a comb through it, tugging and straining until she was afraid she might dislodge more than just ink. With every passing moment the water grew darker. She picked up a bar of soap and scrubbed until she had heaped the tub with mounds of black bubbles.
After struggling with the mess for what seemed like ages, she emerged from the bath victorious and toweled herself off. With a little patience, the whole ordeal would have been unnecessary, but she quickly rejected that notion, determined that every effort had been more than compensated for. Now, she wondered as she pulled the stopper from the drain, how much trouble was it going to be to clean the mess from the tub?