Waterlogged

[Progflaw99]

​

​

Life rarely followed any sort of convention, the average man attempting to achieve happiness through the day to day work set before him. Some excelled, others were content to remain where they sat, neither moving forward nor backwards - happy to merely exist. Gideon had no such feeling on the matter, then again, nothing about him was average. His past, something he wished to leave behind. In fact, it was even evident in his name, for Gideon Bast was but a chosen name over the cold and mindless designation he'd been given. Choice. It was the first of many to come. It was the first decision in a string of such which led him careening out of First Order space and towards the core. He was a skilled pilot - but that was to be expected. While lacking knowledge of the greater galaxy, his skills had been trained rigorously - at least until he'd escaped. Since that moment, since the very second he had named himself, Gideon had been learning still though the skill in question was one of survival. The elements, surviving combat, those were all things he'd been taught from his 'birth' but how to survive in the galaxy? That was something entirely new. Isolated from much of society, his social skills were lacking, in fact in many ways that's how he'd ended up here. At first he'd managed to secure a shuttle, the method of his escape but quickly he had been set upon. The officials weren't looking for him, at least not openly, but the FOSB was - they weren't about to let their pet project escape unmolested. And so it came that Gideon had rapidly decided to ditch the First Order shuttle in favor of a smaller and less conspicuous craft though even that hadn't deterred the search for the escapee.

A stroke of luck on the side of the First Order, or a run of bad luck for Gideon, his vessel had taken several hard hits to the starboard engine mere seconds before jumping to hyperspace, the effects greater than either side could have anticipated. Thrown of course and with damaged systems Gideon found himself spiraling out of control and reverting to realspace in the Velus system, more accurately - just outside the atmosphere of Velusia. An almost purple orb of color marred only by sweeping cloud systems rapidly grew in the small ship's viewport and Gideon was near helpless to stop it.

Alarms screamed, lights flashed across the multi-colored console. Hands gripped the controls of the small vessel as it shook as it entered the atmosphere of Velusia. Sweat covered the man's brow, a sheen of red light reflecting across his taut features as he struggled to bring the nose of the craft up. Gideon had somehow managed to put himself in the most dangerous of situations, one in which he saw no favorable outcome - at least not presently. Giving up however was not in his nature. What felt like hours passed in the course of several minutes as the quickly deteriorating hull began to crack and break as the ship fell from the sky towards the giant ocean. There was only one hope for survival, only one choice to make, and so with a frustrated snarl Gideon forced himself up from the chair. His efforts hadn't gone unrewarded, though not much better than before he had achieved a more shallow angle of descent, enough for him to at very least resign himself to action.

The shuttle's only escape pod lie just behind the cockpit, and it was with haste that his clawed his way rearward over the seat towards the small hatch. Gideon threw himself towards the small opening that would be his salvation, his hands wrapping around its outer edges, arms straining as he fought against inertia, against gravity, against the very thought of the void itself. An automated voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony of alarms sounded above the din.

:: Estimated time till impact, less than one minute. Fifty Nine. Fifty Eight... ::​

​

As if the hounds of the void were at his heels, Gideon pushed himself into the small enclosure, gripped the interior handles and slammed the hatch shut. Everything was shaking, rattling, moving. With a rapid intake of breath, he reached out and grasped the red handle next to the small viewscreen before him. It was time - were he to wait much longer, there was no telling if he'd make it, in fact he was surprised the vessel had maintained its relatively level plane even thus far.

*CLANK - WHOOOOSH*​

​

The roar of his former ship's engines faded, the rattling ironed out into a smooth almost quiet fall. His stomach twinged as he for a brief moment felt weightless before the drop. It was only moments before he felt the subtle firing of the thrusters on the small pod as he neared the ground, the clouds long since gone from view - now all he saw was an endless surface of water, and as he wondered where exactly it was he was landing he knew. With a splash and a deluge of water he felt the pod submerge itself into the depths. A new indicator began blinking on the small display panel. A single tone sounded before he heard what sounded like an expulsion of compressed air filled the small cabin. On the exterior, heavy inflated chambers appeared, driving the capsule towards the surface.

In yet another spray of water, the small lifeboat broke the surface and settled atop the gently rolling waves. It seemed almost out of place, but as the gentle sway settled in Gideon reached for the release latch on the left side of the small viewscreen and gave it a hard yank. With a loud hydraulic hiss and a wash of fresh air, the front panel of the pod rose upwards revealing a partly cloudy blue sky. The smell of saltwater filled Gideon's nostrils, a deep intake of breath almost refreshing at first, then he move again. Sitting up from the bodyformed recess, he poked his head from the small opening left by the hatch he'd opened. *Gods that's bright.* He thought, squinting as he raised a hand to his brow. The gentle sway of the capsule beneath him made it difficult to tell but all he could see was water, endless rolling waves - and then he turned to look the other way. What he saw almost caused his breath to catch in his throat.

People. Lots of people. Or at least he assumed, the large island to his rear covered in constructs, speeders travelling about overhead. A small smoke trail still scarred the sky above from where the main bulk of his vessel had completed its descent but by the looks of it had landed like he, in the water somewhere far beyond the island. The pod was made to survive a landing, though beyond that there wasn't much to it - he'd have to swim. A disgruntled sigh escaped his lips as he ducked back into the small cabin and removed his boots and shirt. Quickly tying his boots together at the laces and placing them over his shoulders, Gideon wrapped his shirt carefully around his head as he prepared. He didn't have much to grab aside from the small utility belt he removed from an interior chamber, a small holdout blaster and small utility knife the only belongings he had to his name. He wasn't far but it would be a rough swim either way - so with a sigh and a bearing down, he dove into the cold water and began swimming towards the beach without looking back.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Southern Beach​

Mount Hollow​

Velusia​

There were a number of things to recommend Velusia for someone like Delilah Keyes. While Coreward, it was, at least for the moment, outside of the sphere of influence of the near by Galactic Alliance. Volcanic islands dotted the oceans that covered the majority of the surface, leaving little enough land space for serious colonization. There were no sought after exports. Nothing, really, to recommend it to larger powers or for exploitation. Just little pockets of civilization, clinging where it could on the craggy islands. Not a hive of scum and villainy like Tatooine, or Nar Shaddaa- but a good place for people who wanted to be left alone. People who wanted to slip through the cracks.

And the tropical atmosphere? That was definately a bonus.

Southern Beach (so creatively named) was a popular destination for treasure hunters. Rumors that, an age ago, a pirate ship from the stars had been sunk there off the cost, a burial site for a pirate queen, reportedly filled to bursting with the treasure of a thousand raids.

Delilah didn't take it too seriously. The likelihood of someone deliberately sinking a star ship full of treasure for the sake of some dead pirate seemed ridiculous to her. Especially after four hundred years, someone would have found it, if it where there. But it was a good story to draw out the gullible, she supposed. And beach scavenging on that particular stretch was always lucrative.

It was amazing what the divers would leave with their clothes and towels on the sand.

Small change, in truth. But worth the effort to stroll, lean over and rifle through, and then continue casually on her way. Sometimes she came in the early morning hours, to truly walk the beach alone, but the afternoon was like an all you could eat buffet of starry eyed idiots, and she just couldn't resist.

The sound of distant rumbling brought her head around. One hand came up to shield her dark eyes as half a dozen other beach goers also looked up and started pointing. It wasn't every day a ship crashed on Velusia, after all, and so many of them were scavengers of some level or another. Most of them started to get up, gathering up their things and heading back into the city, to get to their own transports, she supposed. The downed ship would be stripped of its useful components before the engine even cooled. But, that was the way of it here.

Delilah, however, had seen something that the others had not. While their eyes had been on the larger, smoking ship, she'd seen the glint and the distant splash of something far more interesting.

So instead of following the mill of rats and opportunists heading toward what she was sure would be a spectacular crash site, she settled down on an abandoned blanket to wait. This was the only island in sight of where the escape pod had come down. This was the only stretch of open beach that would allow someone a safe landfall. If they didn't make it to shore? Well, then all she gained was an afternoon alone at the beach. If they did make it however.....

Well, it seemed to be a win win scenario, as far as Delilah was concerned.

| [member="Gideon Bast"] |​

 

[Progflaw99]

Gideon's eyes stung as he blinked rapidly, the salt water was no friend to the man. Spitting water from his mouth, his legs kicked onward, arms reaching out and grasping at the water as he propelled himself forward. Through the stinging of the water he caught glimpse of a small beach nestled between what appeared to be cliffs - it looked like that was his only shot. Gideon tried not to think too much about it, instead focusing on the rhythm he was creating. Breath, Kick, Pull. His clothing tugged at his legs, boots gently bouncing off his body as he pulled himself through the water. He could feel the strain in his muscles, feel the burn in his lungs and yet the beach ahead seemed ne'er closer.

It felt like an hour or more, time oft losing all relativity when one was solely focused on a task - Gideon's being survival. He was a strong swimmer but even strong swimmers were taxed in large bodies of water, the waves relentless, the tides both helping and hindering progress. He would make progress, and he did make progress. Having been several minutes since he'd last looked, Gideon now realized that he'd managed to close the distance rather quickly. Cliffs towered farther on along the shore, what could have been nothing more than ants a few moments ago were now clearly bodies, bodies headed towards where his vessel had gone careening over the very edge of the island. It took only several minutes more for Gideon to reach the shallows, the clear water opening up a scene he might have enjoyed, had he the time. Colorful corals, vibrant fish, the ocean was teeming with life.

The ground came up fast below the man and as he slowed, cast a glance towards the beach. Most of the people he'd seen from farther out were gone, even now the smoke trail from his limping vessel had begun to fade - but not all had vacated the beach in search of the wreck that would inevitably be his vessel if it weren't already. A lone figure remained, almost as if patiently waiting or perhaps enjoying the relative silence of the deserted beach. Gideon could only guess. He slowed his pace again, letting his feet drift deeper into the water until he felt the soft squish of wet sand beneath his toes. He'd made it, but now what?

As he transitioned from swimming to wading, he raised an eyebrow towards the lone woman, his shoulders rising as he now fought to catch his breath, water shedding as his body escaped the cold embrace of the ocean's water. Water splashing as he fought against the ebb and flow of the tide, he trod forward until he remained only thigh deep in the water. His hair, though bound, still dripped of saltwater and stung his eyes and as he carefully removed his boot laces from across his shoulders he greeted the stranger on the beach. His voice ragged, breaths only just starting to slow - he spoke.

"I suppose you saw that then?"​

​

An expression crossed the man's features, one of quiet resignation, almost of embarrassment before he looked back over his shoulder at the near non-existent trail the vessel had left in the sky. Shrugging his shoulders he stepped forward further, onto the damp sand at the edge of the water. Unceremoniously he dumped the water from his boots before unsteadily attempting to untie them from each other.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

 

[Delilah Keyes]

"Only the parts you wish I hadn't."

Despite the half drowned kath dog impression he was doing so well, the dark haired woman seemed entirely unfazed. Her tone was conversational, as if a crashed pilot crawling out of the sea was an every day occurrence. She didn't get up from her spot, but tilted her head, watching him unabashedly. Any one who could make that swim and still be talking at the end was worth paying attention to, in her book. Not to mention he was easy enough on the eyes. But then, a physique like that would be necessary.

If he'd come crawling out, barely having made it to landfall, she might have responded differently. But Del wasn't someone who particularly needed, or even desired, the roll of hero, so she was perfectly content to watch him sort out his own mess at first. She did arch one dark eyebrow at his boots, however.

"Would have been an easier swim if you'd lost those," she commented lightly, again, as if they were talking about the weather or who won the most recent round of the local sports ball of choice.

Reaching over, she snagged a towel. It didn't belong to her, but she didn't really care.

"Catch."

It was mostly just a warning, so he didn't get bapped in the face with it when she tossed it to him.

"I have water here too, if you'd like some."

Altruism?

Not particularly. But her curiosity was piqued.

[member="Gideon Bast"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Gideon let a quiet grunt escape his lips as the woman replied. *Go figure. Though, she doesn't seem to bothered by what she knows - then again, she knows very little of the true situation.* Fumbling with the water sated laces, he pinched them, struggling to get the knots undone at first but as the water began to wring from them they began to slide. As he slowly untangled the knot, he paused at mention of losing the boots. An amused smirk creased his features then. Through all the exhaustion his body was beginning to feel in full, he found humor in her statement. Slipping one hand free he reached out with the towel mid-air and snatched it, a grateful nod towards the woman. Carefully he set down the boots at his feet, draping the towel across his shoulders before quickly tugging at both ends. First one way, then the other as he pulled it up and draped the towel over his head. A quick rustle of the fabric as he undid the shirt tied around his head. Then the towel, against his matted hair it soaked up much of the salt-water from it but remained damp, that was expected.

He took his time, silently drying himself as best he could, only stopping at completion upon which his gaze fell once more upon the woman there. Truthfully, he would have expected her to lose interest by now, or say something but she seemed to be content to merely observe. Eyes glancing towards her, he sighed inwardly. He could use the water. Even now, only minutes from the surf, he could feel his body begin to give way to the exhaustion. Adrenaline had driven him thus far but that would only last so long. With a brief but pained grimace, he took a few footsteps nearer before himself snagging an abandoned towel, setting it near but a cautious distance away from the strange woman.

This time with an audible sigh, he let himself fall backwards onto the ground. Relief washed over him, the ache beginning to settle in as he gave his muscles respite. As he took a nimble seat, he turned his head to his left, eyeing the woman carefully.

"You mentioned water?" He sat, content to breathe for a moment before introducing himself. "The name's Gideon - thanks for the towel." A wry smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "This place cleared out in a hurry, din't it?"​

​

​

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

 

[Delilah Keyes]

"Delilah," she replied, "And yes."

Getting up just to her knees so she could lean over far enough to pass him the water bottle, she didn't otherwise close the distance that he'd put in place. Settling back on her own pilfered blanket, she did continue to watch him however. A smile flickered over her lips, turning into a small smirk at the last part.

"Well, this place is an opportunist's dream. So seeing a ship coming down usually means ninety percent of the population starts acting like piranhas. It's a good thing you bailed when you did- even if you'd survived the crash itself, chances are whoever got their first would have knocked you over the head and claimed salvage rights without a second thought."

The tone was casual, matter-of-fact. Velusia, for all of it's apparent idyll, had never really shaken off it's piratical history.

Dark eyes flicked up and down his form thoughtfully for a moment, considering. Apparently, she came to some sort of decision, but what exactly the alternatives had been, well, that was the real question.

"You need a shower and a meal, Mister Gideon-From-The-Sea," she said decisively, perhaps with a touch of resignation. "There's a saying around here, that salt water cures everything. Sweat, tears, blood, or the sea. But I think you've had enough of the last, and if you're going to avoid some of the others, probably best to regain your strength."

Del stood up, brushing sand from herself.

Altruism? Hardly. But there was a lot more value to be had in someone that owed you than in stripping a ship of all valuable parts.

[member="Gideon Bast"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Gideon watched the bottle of water carefully before reaching out and accepting it. Carefully at first he took a sip after unscrewing the lid, eyes warily watching the woman where she sat. He listened, an interested hum as he drank deeply. The water was refreshing, it was likely the best water he'd ever had. At the woman's explanation for the exodus that had occurred only minutes before his arrival, he paused, lowering the bottle. He was fortunate to have made it into the capsule but now that he'd heard what kind of place this was, or at least a part of it, he realized just how lucky he was. Or was it luck at all? He mulled that over silently, taking another sip of the water before screwing the cap back in.

His attention returned to the woman, a raised eyebrow as she spoke. He'd felt the pang of hunger, though it had been muted by the sudden consumption of water - at least till now. A quiet grumble from his stomach forced him to agree. A shower, perhaps. A meal, most definitely. What though did she mean by that? Surely the same thing could have been said about anyone - granted, he had just emerged from the sea. He cracked a smirk at that. *Gideon-From-The-Sea.* With an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips he ran his fingers through his hair, wringing what remained of the saltwater from it. A quick shake of his head and he saw she'd risen.

"You're a local then?" He knew it was likely to be the case, or if not a local, someone intimately familiar with this place. Seeing as he was out a ship and no immediate prospects for regaining his mobility, perhaps he could make use of this woman's interest. Though a ship was pretty high on his list of priorities, another odd sound from his stomach seemed to be higher, and so he too rose to his feet. "And where might one find a shower and a meal?"​

​

Gideon was entirely out of his element, but perhaps once he'd had a meal and some time to sort out exactly where he was and what his situation was like, a plan of attack could be developed. As of yet, he was no one, and and had nothing to call his own - well, next to nothing. Scooping up his boots he rose from the towel. Shirt draped atop the boots and cradled in his arm, Gideon surveyed his surroundings. Hopefully wherever it was had a decent clothes selection.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Hmmm.

Her first impulse had been to take him to a nearby hotel. She was flush at the moment, and the owner owed her a favor or three. But a stranger clearly straight out of the ocean, still crusted in salt and sand, that would raise questions. Questions that were hers to ask, thank you very much. And so close on the tail of the crash, well, Mama Maude wasn't a stupid woman. Wouldn't have survived in her line of work this long if she was.

In her line of work, information was currency. And she didn't consider the ship that had come down to be the real bank today.

"My place," she said after a moment. It answered both of his questions, or at least seemed to.

Delilah had been living on Velusia for only the last six months. 'Local' is not what anyone would really call her. But she was observant, a quick study when it came to the social mores of the situation, and could blend in perfectly well when she wanted to. Which, here, was the case. Last thing she needed was certain nosy family members poking about because they caught wind of where she was.

"Unless you've got credits in those water logged pants, they wouldn't let you through the door anywhere else," she said with a bit of a smirk, eyes traveling down for a heartbeat before back up to his face.

"Just a block down from here, think you can make it?"

It was a fair question, and not meant to be mocking. He'd had quite a swim, and while she was tall for a woman, she'd really rather not have to carry him through the streets.

[member="Gideon Bast"]

 

[Progflaw99]

*Now that was interesting.* Could he have seen his own face, no doubt his expression would have been one of confusion and near shock. The expression stuck for a moment, but as she made mention of his current attire he saw the logic in it. The thought caused him a quiet chuckle of his own. "Yes.. I suppose you have me there. The question then becomes - why would you trust a stranger in your home?" As he finished speaking, he felt the fatigue of the swim he'd endured wash over him once more, a minor shake in one hand. "Though I doubt I'm in any condition to pose a threat."

He noted the subtle dodge of the question he'd asked. Perhaps she was a local, perhaps not - but she was very good at not giving away too much. In a way, it worried him, in another it intrigued him. Should he have had any other viable options he may have taken them on that feeling alone but such was not the case. If anything uncouth were to come of it, he did have a knife tucked in the small of his back - whether he could use it was another matter entirely. Credits he didn't have - any wealth he might have accumulated by inheritance... well, that had gone down with the ship. What he did have was a mind - though he failed to see how that helped him in his current situation. It was as good as gold then, he would accept her invitation.

"I think I can manage." he grunted.​

​

It would take him a moment, but Gideon chose to put back on his boots uncomfortable as they may be. Tying them loosely, he shook his shirt free of sand before quickly pulling it over his head. Now he wouldn't stick out quite as much. Better to stay under the radar when he could - no telling how far behind his trackers were, if he hadn't lost them in the mishap that had sent him to this planet. With a sigh, he put a hesitant foot forward, stepping after the woman. As they progressed, a question sprang to mind.

"So, to be ignorant for a moment - but where exactly is here?"​

​

​

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

 

[Delilah Keyes]

Why indeed?

The fact that Delilah felt more than a small amount of trepidation bringing him into her home was well hidden beneath that casual smile, and dark, artful gaze. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, sure. But her apartment was more than simply a place to lay low between jobs. It was a haven, a place she kept purely for herself.

"You wouldn't hurt a kitten, would you, Gideon-From-The-Sea?" She said with a light laugh and a smile. "At least not one offering you a couch and a meal, right?"

In truth, her concerns were very little with physical safety. She wasn't naïve. If she was reading him *that* wrong? Well, she was more than prepared to do what had to be done. There were a lot of unattended dumpsters around the city, and a lot of restaurant owners who served exotic clientele. She had options.

And it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to use them.

"Well. You've crashed on the ocean gem known as Velusia. Gorgeous tropical façade over the even thinner veneer of civilization." Sort of like her. Gesturing around them as they stepped up onto the boardwalk that edged the grey sands, she continued. "Mount Hollow is the largest city, and the only space port of real note. There are enclaves, sure, scattered here and there. If you're a gambling sort, Velusia has just about anything you could want."

The way she said that made it clear that she didn't simply mean cards and dice. If it seemed strange that she wasn't asking him questions in return, well.....

Her apartment wasn't far. It would be obvious that she could see that section of the beach he had washed up on from the upstairs windows. A bell rang as she pushed into the shop that occupied the ground floor. A gruff looking herglic, bent low over something on a table toward the back looked up at them, then relaxed slightly when he recognized Del, offering her a toothy smile.

"Bringing home friends?" He asked guardedly as he sat up to his full height- nearly twice her own. Huge hands absently wiped clay off on his apron. The walls and tables were lined with astoundingly delicate pottery and driftwood carvings.

"Just a stray, Kal," she said with a smile of her own.

He grunted, hunching back over the pottery wheel.

"Make sure he doesn't piss on the floor then," he muttered "Put a lot of work into that floor," and Del just shook her head and motioned for Gideon to follow her. They moved to the back of the shop and headed up the stairs.

"Kal doesn't like humans much," she said softly, by way of apology, but she didn't elaborate as she drew out the key.

Well worn driftwood floors, smooth as silk and a warm grey with time had obviously come with the apartment, but the rest followed suit. Del tried to see it with fresh eyes, but that was always a challenge. The large window dominated the far wall, the reflection of the seas dancing on the ceiling. She had kept the colours in the same grey and beige family as the driftwood beneath their feet, furniture simple, curving lines and excellent fabrics with an occasional pop of scarlet, coral, or cerulean. Casually she kicked off her shoes at the door, and the heavy glance behind her at him said that she required he do the same.

The main room combined living and dining, and she headed to the table to deposit the shoulder bag she had carried with her from the beach.

"Fresher is through the back and to the right," she said. "I'll see what I can scrounge up for you until we can get your things cleaned," she paused, turning back and eyeing him up and down, but this time clearly to get a better eye for his size. A smirk followed a moment later and, "Don't worry, I won't peek."

[member="Gideon Bast"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Gideon may have been trained as a killer, trained as a bringer of death but the woman had made an accurate assessment - at least in the moment regarding his penchant for violence. No, he would not hurt someone needlessly, to do so would be foolish. Especially one whom was offering him safe passage. In any case, he was the outsider here and if this woman was leading him towards her home - it was likely a physical confrontation wasn't at the forefront of her worry. Whether that was due to her own capabilities or those of hired guards or something else he had no clue and knew not where to even begin. The world was such a large place and flash training only went so far. He had all the building blocks but none of the experience, a fact that could very well see him to his end if he wasn't careful.

Head on a swivel, he watched their surroundings as the pair advanced. *Interesting.* he mused. Gideon stored the information in his brain - it could come in handy, knowing that the populace was fairly self centered, aimed around gambling and acquisition. A world of many means, and if he'd heard the minor insinuation, a world of varying wares. Paradise, Velusia may have been, but he was beginning to get the distinct feeling there was a subtle undercurrent that would wash him under if he wasn't careful. They approached a building near the edge of the beach, hesitating for a moment as she entered. Here they were, what lay inside? A bathtub full of ice? A bat to the face? A shock baton to the gut? Something about following a strange woman into a housing unit seemed suspect - but once again, what choice did he have? Besides, he hadn't gotten that vibe from the woman. She wasn't after his organs.

Following closely behind Delilah, Gideon narrowed his eyes at the Herglic. *That... is a big dude.* As the two continued their brief back and forth he gave the Herglic a glare at his less than kind words but did little more than reply with a grunt of his own. Delilah kept moving on and he followed, a quick glance over his shoulder at the Herglic before continuing on. At her simple explanation, Gideon replied curtly.

"That'd be one way to put it I suppose."​

​

He waited patiently as she drew out a key, then entered. Gideon hadn't known what to expect, though upon entering he was pleasantly surprised. It was modest - but not run-down. Giving the space a quick glance, he noted Delilah leaving behind her shoes as she stepped further into the apartment. Taking a quick knee, he untied his boots, the wet leather clinging as he fought to get them from his feet. Yeah... he was going to need new clothes. Being as careful as he could to keep sand from flying everywhere, he slid the boots from his feet and set them neatly next to the door. Gaze rising as he stood, he watched as the woman deposited the shoulder bag - her words giving him some direction as to where things were. At the last bit his features were gripped by a mischievous grin - the woman certainly had a sense of humor. It was disarming, no doubt a practiced skill. For a moment he began to wonder just what game she was up to, though the temptation of a hot shower won over.

"Well, I'll just be in there then." He paused for a moment as he turned to head to the refresher. "Thank you, Miss Delilah."​

​

With a nod, he turned towards the refresher.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​

 

[Delilah Keyes]

While he was in the shower, he'd hear the door open and then shut again- not all the way, just enough for a pile of clothes to be left on the counter. Simple, but comfortable, just the wrong side of too large but servicable for the moment at least.

She'd promised a shower and food, and she didn't disappoint. Whenever he came out there were a variety of take out containers on the table in the small, open kitchen. Del was shuffling through a half dozen small flimsy cards, leaning her hip against the counter when he reappeared. She looked up, then nodded once.

"You look less like a half drowned hawk bat now and more like a person again. Hungry?"

Wasn't that a silly question?

She didn't badger him. For now, at least, she gave him space, didn't interrupt that meal. Sure, she sat down at the table as well, helping herself to the container of spicy noodles that said they were a mon cal specialty and most assuredly were not. Tasty, sure, but not even remotely authentic. Water, tea, and no prying questions.

For now.

[member="Gideon Bast"]

 

[Progflaw99]

It was a modest refresher - nothing terribly extravagant but to the rogue clone it was more than enough. It only took him a moment to shed his salt-water laden clothes and step into the shower, and a moment more before the deluge of clean water poured down from the spout. It was cold at first, a sharp intake of breath as he let the water course across his body. Slowly it began to heat up, steam beginning to rise and semi-transparent glass fogging up. *Gods.. I could stand here for days.* Muck and grime washed away towards the drain, a small vortex of sand and dirt forming as it was whisked away. Gideon ran his fingers through his hair, the taste of salt-water fresh on his lips as it was purged by the hot water. A quick glance revealed a small wire shelf, bottles of varying size and color upon it. *Soap?* wondered the man.

Carefully he reached up, turning a few of the bottles around as he searched for a label of some sort. Of the several bottles there he found only one he could read - surprising given his advanced vocabulary. They must have been from worlds unknown to him, except for one. As fate would have it, the bottle was a narrow tube with a metallic cap, the color? Pink. Gideon narrowed his eyes and frowned slightly. It was shampoo alright - a heavily scented shampoo, but he really couldn't complain. Better of elderberries than the sea - he guessed.

Without turning back, he upended the container. A slick substance matching the color of the container filled his hand before he replaced the bottle on the shelf. The hot water had begun to do its work, more so as he began to work the soap through his matted hair. Suds formed a thick mess of bubbles, washed away by the flowing water. It felt good to be clean. He'd spent far too long in space, and with only the clothes on his back he'd desperately needed a shower long before his arrival on Velusia. He spent the next several minutes scrubbing off the soap before setting the water to cold. A shock to the system, the frigid water caused him a violent shiver, chills rippling down his spine - and then the water was off. Gideon breathed in deeply, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel to begin drying himself with. Upon the counter, he noticed a set of pants and a shirt. The woman must have set them inside.

Upon donning the clothing he noted they wore just a little large, he was thankful nonetheless. Quickly cleaning up the water on the floor with the towel he'd been provided, the man reached for the door handle and exited back into the short corridor. An mixed aroma of food filled the air coupled with... was it berries?.. *Must be the soap...* he grimaced. In the future, he would be sure to avoid pink bottles. The growling in his stomach spurred him forward. It may have been an odd collection of containers or packaged food but to Gideon it might as well have been a feast. Carefully he moved a chair across from the woman, settling down as his eyes tracked from one offering of food to the next. As she inquired as to his hunger, one could likely see the hawkish way in which he perused the table but his voice confirmed.

"Quite.. 'preciate it marm."​

​

With a brief pause, he selected an innocuous looking container, what looked like beans and rice of some sort inside. He wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't particularly care. As if to reinforce the feeling of hunger his stomach growled at the smell of the food. It looked good, smelled good, and as he rose a borrowed spoon to his lips - it was good.

[member="Delilah Keyes"]​