The door's loud bellow behind at her background Lila in reality, her chest weighed heavy alongside the enormous breaths she heaved in and out. "That's…" She muttered, her mind still reeling as she adjusted to what had happened. "Gods!" The terseness of her tone was scantily hidden by her whisper, "What was that?" Lila huffed in a near cry-like voice. The bath's image ingrained itself in her mind, the steam, the lavender… the beautiful woman who had pressed their lips together.
Her hand slapped onto the wall beside her. The small act caught her buckling knees while her other hand whisked to cover her mouth. The red blush spread like wildfire across Lila's face, her breathing rampant as she stared low to the floor before her. Her frantic mind was slow to recover, the image of Cinder's surprised expression as she left the bath featured prominently. This woman who had embedded herself over Lila's own evening, hell, she had squared the night away for a bath of her own; and here she was just giving it away.
A long and drawn-out breath through Lila's nose levelled the woman out, her shaking legs growing a touch more confident beneath her. Standing more upright, Lila brought her hand down from her face. Clearing her throat, she smacked her hands together, "Right, dinner. Table for two, tea for two… I got it." She muttered to herself, mentally doting over the particulars. The table to which she had planned for them to sit was something wholly home-like. Small and carpenter produced from within the village, it was one of the few things in the cottage that Lila had not fashioned herself. She would place herself and Cinder across from one another on the width, giving both plenty of space and, more importantly, plenty of places to look other than each other.
Creeping from the door with some haste, Lila continued to fuss mentally. "I wonder if she takes sugar…" Turning back from her path for a moment, "N-no. Just put that on the table with it all." She turned back to the kitchen but spun around again, "Cream or milk?" Mentally cursing as she lightly smacked her head with a pained scoff. "Oh, get ahold of yourself, Lil. She's a grown woman. She'll be fine with it being on the table."
A high-pitched whistle caught her ear, nodding alongside a heavy sigh. Lila finally smiled, "Just make the tea, pour stew, and go get her when it's all set." Her nodding continued, moving to the warmth of the fireplace and snatching up the damp cloth sat on the hearth. Within the fire sat the familiar kettle; she had used the dungy old thing since she had built this place. Beside the whining kettle laboured a black pot within which bubbled and boiled the brown opulence of beef and stock. The fire was growing weary, though Lila trusted it to just be able to finish the stew's prep. But still, Lila was preoccupied. "Set table. Simple enough." Lila said, fitting her hand in the cloth and reaching in to take up the now boiled kettle.
"She's just a woman. You're also that..." At the very least, the strum of the kettle allowed Lila to ground herself, moving from the fireplace with haste to the kitchen. "But she is a woman who beat up at least a gang and got a few cuts to show for it. No biggie." Talking aimlessly while she paced to the kitchen. The small counter space was cluttered with all manner of things. Yet Lila ran on autopilot toward another damp cloth among the mess. Her mind continued to unspool, "Just… A very fit woman. Who is in your bath." Lila continued nodding. Her hands released the kettle and headed to the overhead cabinets. "I mean, she is very attractive- Not that I!" The mugs stared back at her, judging her as she grabbed two up with a desperate look on her face.
The kettle continued to wind down, Lila moving to another cupboard across the kitchen, "Her muscles are just, very well defined. She must be an archer or something because… wow!" Thinking on it harder, her skin flushed again, the red crept down from her face into her shirt while the scandalous bath replayed in her mind. Only escaping the scenario with a fierce shake of her head, her jaw setting and expression going stern, Lila huffed. "Come on, pull yourself together, for real. Just… make tea." Lilac eyes turned upward. Four lengthy rows of tea canisters and bottles of all sorts glared back at her. "Now…" Lila huffed, her hands posting up on her hips, studying the selection. "What would little miss feral like?"
Though as Lila went off, inspecting and manicuring her choices, "Cinnamon, little basic, earl grey, perhaps…" A slight shudder came to her upon glancing down to the counter. The empty fruit basket sat just next to the sink. It had been vacant of fruit for days now. Shouldn't she have gone out to get-?
Lila's hands flew up to her head as panic overtook her voice in a sudden realization, "My basket!" She cried in an anxious shock. Turning from the kitchen, rushing past the table. Lila barely grabbing her robe from the hook up on the door. The front door swung open with a wild woosh, the rain and storm still calling with a whip-like taunt to the spry Lila. The door swinging shut with a bellow behind her.
The bath all the while was enriching for Cinder's burned skin. The stench of lavender was fierce and explosive in her nose. Though, the explosive fits of bubbles were more likely due to the embarrassed Cinder Fall's dunking of her face. A black mess of hair bobbed up and down amongst the bubbles, the water sputtering like mad as the silent yelling of the Fall Maiden scantily echoed out the water. When her lungs had been exhausted, the loud splash and shockwave of water carried the drenched Maiden back into the metal hull.
The water and soap had done her no favours. Her breath was long and laboured, as had her pale skin turned to a brilliant embarrassed hue. "Gods!" She sputtered out through the drink, her face almost totally covered by her wet mop of hair. Her one hand reached up, taking the mop of hair in hand and fully pressing the whole lot of black straight back. Revealing both her golden and pristine right side, alongside the scared and repugnant left. Breathing was long and winding, though calming as the Maiden returned from the sloshing mix.
The left side of her still ached, the shadow hand gunked up within her. The unnatural creation practically begging to be released from her form, the emotional turmoil made her even consider it. Though Cinder could have guessed how much good a vat of boiling disinfectant would have done the monstrous and violent Grimm appendage. Desperate to sidetrack her mind, even for a moment from that wretched, deplorably beautiful woman, Cinder's hand abandoned her face. Instead, she reached around her bathing form to her left appendage. Unable to see the scarred side due to her vision, Cinder could only feel the remnants of her bicep. The subtle gnawing at her damaged skin by the boiling water reminded her of where she was, letting the heat seep in as she thought.
This was bad, wasn't it? Cinder Fall, Salem's Maiden, the conductor of Beacon's fall and the killer of Ozpin, she wasn't supposed to be sat here. This bath, the warm water nibbling away at the dirt and grime upon her. Being pedicured to perfection was Salem's gift to her, and that pedicure fashioned Cinder, a recipient of glorious power. The only perfection she would find here is a night's rest as some sort of decadent prisoner of this woman, who would auction her off to those loathsome teenagers surely. This was all a trick to meet those ends.
Though, as Cinder imagined the circumstances, a cleansing bath, a hot meal, a place outside of the storm. Those alone would have been a luxury for many on this side of the world, but even worse was that this ravenous woman, this Lila was essentially her prison warden. Yes! That's it, she was being held captive! Why else would she have been left in this room for so long alone? Though the loud and somewhat familiar bang drew the Maiden's ire away from any other conclusion.
Cinder's head propped up at that sudden bang, first on reflex. But neither a reprimand called out, and neither did the woman entered her vision. Expecting one or the other, their absence made Cinder turn to face the door behind her. "D-did she leave?" Cinder wondered aloud, craning her neck and watching the door with a glare. "Why would she leave a captive?" Slowly, Cinder's hand drew to the bath's edge. Looking at the warm pool of water to the steamy room, she had to steel herself. Even Cinder Fall, though she refuted it, could feel the chill of leaving a warm bath. Though curiosity did get the better of the woman, her hand grasped the edge tightly as she prepped herself for the cold.
Before entry to the tub, her legs felt lethargic, slow and heavy from the staggered limp to this abode. Though now, having pulled them under her in the tub, they felt as fit as ever. The water trickled down and off of her as she rose first from the water. Standing up in the bath and letting the small excess dribble off her, first in a great fall, then in a light drizzle. As she waited momentarily, she inspected the room and listened close. Cinder's eye first went to the mound of clothing that had been brought in. The pile seemed decently casual, if not unkind to her ego.
Though the rest of the room did have some appeal, light decoration, a clock showing half-past ten in the evening. Wincing at the clock's tiny hands, Cinder had to bend a touch to place her hand on the tub's rim. A stark soreness spanned her whole form with the move. Releasing a sharp breath, Cinder heaved herself over the rim centimetre by centimetre. The pain in her legs and hips rocked her resolve. "Son of a-." Groaning still, her left foot touched the wooden floor with a slight bend, the wood creaking ever so to make Cinder sigh in relief. One leg over, the next was just as tricky. The restriction of her movement made her sway ever so slightly, though once she had cleared the bowl, she barked out a sigh.
"Gods, I need to stretch more…" Her hand clambered from the bath's edge, coming to a rest on her knee. Leaning down just a touch, Cinder could feel the limberness the bath had given her deteriorate increasingly. Her legs ached all over. The cause was obvious enough while she leaned down. Purple and blue marks stretched all over her form from the toe up. That would explain why she could barely conjure any of her power; her aura was pulling double-time to revitalize her losses. A noticeable amount of internalized curses went through Cinder's mind from her facial expressions. She had gone too long, it seemed, without salting her own wounds of failure. She may as well have bathed with salt. What good was sitting around here doing for her?
Cinder pushed herself upright with a strenuous breath, the soft clicking in her back making her aware of her brittle state once more. Accompanied by a roll of her neck, and Cinder was turning toward the mound of clothing. Her slight limp returned to her as she hefted her good right side forth while levering her left. The small table was overflowing with the clothes, cloth lapping over the sides. The clothes mashed pile made them appear to have been pulled in a clutter—a slight twinge of anxiousness built within Cinder at the sight. Unfolded laundry had always irked her. It was a sign of carelessness.
Though she should be just as fortunate, looking behind her with a strain, it was evident that her red gown was by no means an option. She bared her teeth ever so slightly as she sighed at the red apparel, "I spent so long on those stitches…" Cinder huffed, her hand resting on the clothes before her. Though she supposed, giving a quick inspection around the table, she should find a towel.
A wardrobe height cupboard sat not too far from where she was, making Cinder stagger two limping steps before she popped the cabinet open. The sultry smell of washing powder and heat wafted over the woman. It was near narcotic for the Fall Maiden as her eye drifted over stacks of freshly folded white towels. The towels were soft to the touch, made by someone with an expert hand clearly by the stitching. Cinder pressed the white piece to her face, taking a deep breath. Her mumbling spilled into the towel, "Oh, freshly cleaned."
Drying herself was a touch trickier. Though Cinder had done it before, it was much more straightforward with two hands. However, Cinder was not too keen on reliving the pains of letting the monstrous arm pour out once more, and neither was she excited for pushing it back in. When she had finally finished, her hair looking an even puffier mess than usual, Cinder huffed. Looking around a touch, she spotted a hook to which she delicately hung the towel. Then was the issue of her new clothes. Inspecting the pile, the initial frown cinder had found for ego had only doubled.
The ensemble was… tolerable, to say the absolute least. Beginning with a pair of thickset socks. To which Cinder tossed back to the table, she wouldn't have time to fight those onto her. Black sweatpants, they weren't awfully oversized, though there was definitely an extra inch in length. Finally, there was the blank grey t-shirt, which Cinder was just a touch too broad-shouldered for. Though it still hung for some degree of modesty, at the very least. Running her hand through her hair, Cinder limped back over to where her red robe and the mirror were.
Something low, almost guttural, stuck out to Cinder as she gazed into her reflection. It was almost easier to see the heavy bags that weighed her eyes in this. The bruising on her arm, the hints of scarring that webbed out from her black fringe. Though the one piece that wasn't wholly covered was at her neck. The downcasting yellow light from the mirror made the lightning-like scaring impossible to miss.
Though Cinder fought not to wallow in self-pity, at least for the moment, instead, she looked down to the table. The red gown, she had spent almost her whole initial recovery at Salem's palace creating it. Though it was evident that now it had run its purpose. Grabbing the crease where her right leg would have been exposed, Cinder raised and bit down onto the red fabric. Tearing it in one spot, then doing the same to another. Having two successful tears in the piece, Cinder continued to fight for an even tear.
When she had gone about the length she had thought reasonable, she bit down and tore across the long rectangular section. Removing the now long ribbon, she crumpled in her palm before taking it to her neck. It had taken a lot of practice, likely more taxing than it had been to train her archer skills, but she had learned how to tie a rudimentary bow with one hand. Watching as the red line plopped itself just over her scars, Cinder lowered her arm with a tender sigh.
The woman wasn't kidding. The door was cumbersome to the bathroom. In her rattled state, it took Cinder a shoulder shove to press the thing open. Though it was worth it, the stench of the bath palled compared to the rich smells that poured out from the house. Cinder's stomach groaned in pain as the smell of beef amongst spices and vegetables called out to her. The scent was delectable, but it alone did not distract Cinder from the noise of the door opening. Her golden eye flicked to the sound, her mouth opening with a snarky line of tardiness primed. Though it never escaped her mouth.
Cinder watched, staring with incredible focus at the drenched form of her supposed captor. Lila was soaked, the rain having done away with the formerly neat and clean clothing. The robe she wore clung to her shoulders, though it laid open in the front. Enabling Cinder to get a good, blushing look at Lila's front. Out of brewing embarrassment, Cinder forced her eye up higher and was met with even more beauty. Lila's hair was collapsed down from any semblance of control thanks to the water. How, how was someone this beautiful while soaked like a stray animal?
However, her staring was not taken in kind. A loud and startled shriek from Lila filled the tiny cottage. Cinder jumped from her stupor, her hand raised in a vague, combative posture. Though Cinder's expression showed the sudden surprise far more than someone ready to fight.
Lila clutched a large basket to her form, appearing as if she were preparing to hurl the large assortment of goods. Though she backed off from that when she was yelled at in turn by the Fall Maiden. "Why are you yelling?!" The sudden bark was meant to make the woman reconstitute herself. However, it was evident that Lila was not so easily intimidated.
Lila's voice was sharp and quick, one hand hefting her basket while the other pointed at Cinder. "Don't get snippy with me! Why are you just standing like a creep in the doorway, huh?!" The sudden antagonism made Cinder take a step back, "I-I'm not stood like a creep? I was coming out of the bath!" The Fall Maiden tried to defend, "Then why didn't you say hello?!" Lila countered, moving from the door to the kitchen. Trailing after her, Cinder shook her head, "Because I was…" She tried, but her voice broke off into a whining slur.
Hearing the breakoff, Lila slumped the wet basket onto the kitchen counter. Some of the fruits fell as she did so. The woman turned on Cinder, leaning on the counter with the other hand planted on her hip, a stern expression glared at the Fall Maiden. The look alone made Cinder flush, though her terse "What?" Lila asked, waiting with a swagger that could have put even Roman to shame.
Cinder stammered all the while, her hand absentmindedly reaching around her form and gripping the left side of her. Looking bashfully away, "I-I was simply stunned." Cinder's answer was met by a scoff. With a smirk, Lika shook her head. "Stunned by what, Cindy?" There was that damn nickname again, making her skin crawl in all the embarrassing ways. All the same, Cinder fought for an answer, looking around the room as that wafting smell overcame her. "A-ah, I was mesmerized by the smell! That's it, beef and-." Cinder's brief spout of wisdom received a snarking nod, "Sure, sure. You love the smell of my cooking, now…" Watching as the soaked woman pressed from the counter and strolled over to her, Cinder's heart picked up pace. The distance shrunk quick, to the point that Cinder tried to step backward, though her injured leg scarcely allowed for it.
Lila's tanned hands strolled up along Cinder's shoulders, Lila coming mere inches away from Cinder's blushing face. The smell of that lovely lavender bounced off of Cinder onto Lila. The woman's gemlike eyes looked over Cinder's collar, too, her hands taking hold of the bow on Cinder's neck and straightening it. The act stifled Cinder's breath, her eye dilating with a dryness forcing itself over her tongue. "You look nice as sin, Cin." Lila laughed, leaving Cinder's immediate vicinity with a pat to the shoulder and heavy breath. Her tongue gallantly returned to service, Cinder coughing briefly before nervously chuckling back. "And you smell lovely, dear." The hint of sarcasm meaning nothing for the fiercely red Lila, who rushed to change her clothing once more.