Simmer & Steam [Open//Adv]

[Alistair Theirin]

Now that the warm fuzzy part is over we can get back to the ritual dismemberments?
...Oh wait, it's not Tuesday is it?

Although he had never had a penchant for children, Alistair assumed that he would have no trouble working with them. More times than he could now remember, the phrase “You would make a great dad!” had been thrown his way—whether they had been serious or facetious…well, Alistair had never been quite able to make out. He was a master of doling out sarcasm, not at understanding when it came his way. He possessed the right type of nature to deal with children, in theory: jovial, sarcastic, but with a forceful presence that he would utilize when a leader was needed. Of course, he had also been assuming that the students he’d be teaching would be at least partially willing to listen. Hypocritical on his part, perhaps, considering Alistair’s behavior in the monastery he was largely schooled in—but hell, that was hardly comparable! Learning about dull religion and history through harsh nuns with cackly voices like they were horrid demon witches was a far cry from learning about sports through an altogether understanding and well-humored guy (if he did say so himself).

Perhaps if all of the students he actually dealt with in the day were his own children, he might have felt more patience for their incessant antics. Then again, were they all his children, Alistair would have to question his sleeping patterns (and, for that matter, if sleep intercourse was even a legitimate disease). Instead, he found himself exhausted by the end of the day—no easy task, when one considered the man being spoken of. This was a man who had spent entire days fighting thugs without breaking a sweat; a man with a childish spirit, and no qualms against wrestling with his horse of a dog for hours at a time. In fact, it wasn’t a physical exhaustion that plagued him. There were hardly words to describe how he felt—it was, more simply stated, a slow chipping of his patience with each time he had to bellow out, “We’re playing cricket, not croquet!”, “Stop kissing him!” or “For the Maker’s sake, that’s not what those are supposed to be used for!”. Sports teacher—it was an easy job, as it had been explained. Get them to exercise, teach them about sports, you get money, wish-wash, deal done. Alistair had to wonder if these higher ups who had told him that had ever spent an actual moment amongst the students. No…no, they haven’t. They don’t understand these children at all. He thought solemnly.

Alistair sighed, temple leaning against the moist sauna wall. He knew the reason he was at the school—his goal hadn’t yet changed. Those kids were just making it really, really hard to actually care about them and want to follow through with it. He had planned on coming into the school, immediately sympathizing with the poor, tormented souls with all their sobby crocodile tears and insecurities. Yes, with their pupp-ydog eyes and pleading requests, he would have loved to help them. Instead he found sneering teenagers looking for any way to manipulate him and throw buckets upon buckets of snark in his face. Alistair wouldn’t let it show…but he was a bit more sensitive than he would have liked. He would throw back a sarcastic comment when prompted, making no change of expression beyond humor, but the insults and attitudes easily irked him. He was most certainly not a sweaty gym monkey!

His mind kept jumping back to a moment during his time with the man he had called his fellow warden. He and the rest of his companions had come across a young boy begging for money, claiming to be a starving orphan. Feeling a pang in his heart, Alistair had advised the warden to donate. Thinking himself charitable for the moment, it bit him in the rump when, returning back through the town two days later, the same ‘orphan’ standing amongst a large group of beaming children, claimed that they were all starving orphans with horribly tragic tales, and that the group would be unspeakably cruel not to donate again. Oh, how Alistair had wanted to chase that cheeky bastard off with his knife drawn! Were it not for his fellow warden, he very well may have. Instead, he watched as the pleaded amount was given, mumbling under his breath about how they might as well just toss all of their money in the street, not that they had any reason for it—no no, they didn’t need any money to fight a powerful organized crime group or anything.

And so recently he had found himself at the gym every day after work (though he still wasn’t a gym monkey, he would say with a raised tone of inflection and a scowl). A good work-out and sweat were wonderful for alleviating stress. A few years back, hunting down thugs had been his release; something he couldn’t quite do in Spain with no clear knowledge of the language beyond ‘Me gustan los relaciones’ which he’d learned through the only Spaniard he’d ever known…and knowing that source, it probably wasn’t something a person ought to be spouting in open public.

At the end of the day, it was the warm, stress-relieving simmer in the sauna and sheer force of will that got him up again the next morning to repeat the process…but mostly the sauna. There the Englishman sat, pleased smile on his face within the empty, steam-filled room. He had learned how to selectively pick his timing within a short period. He didn’t necessarily dislike people...nor their frequent habit of staring at his scars when exposed. It was merely the fact that, when he was alone in the sauna, Alistair didn’t have to check himself and mind his manners. When he was alone, as he was today, he could sit in the corner of the room, appendages sprawled out like he was some misplaced throw-rug with his head leaning back and mouth open. Hardly worried about intruders, the towel he had come in with was only scarcely covering what it needed to. Such luxurious, relaxing moments were rare to come by in Alistair’s life. Legally ‘homeless’, the man spent much of his time back-packing around and sleeping in a tent. The rare times that he settled down long enough to actually buy a gym membership…well, why not indulge himself a bit?

He just hoped it wasn’t like the time he’d settled down briefly near a chocolatier. He’d had stomach-aches for weeks.

words;; 1079
tag;; Totally open
status;; Complete
notes;; Ahahaha. My writing style changes vastly when I write for Alistair, apparently. I become a sarcastic little minx
wearing;; A towel. You know what a towel looks like, yusss?
Quote;; Alistair-- Dragon Age: Origins

[Rosemary Anne Rutledge]

E[/font]ven though she found sports, generally speaking, to be impossible conglomerations of pointless rules and incomprehensible strategies, Rosemary understood the importance of staying in shape. In Portugal, and Italy before that, she had mostly swam; here she was not entirely certain it was allowed at the school since she was not a member of the swimming team. She had been glad to find that the local gym had an indoor pool, and had quickly procured a membership. She would still go running sometimes, but this was a good setting for her thrice weekly swims. Now all she had to worry about was people refusing to take her seriously because of her white bikini with its pink flowered ruffle and skirting. It had occurred to her on several occasions that perhaps she should invest in a simple one piece suit for her workouts and save the bikini for when she was having fun at the pool or the beach, but she had yet to act on it.

W[/font]ith her customary fifty laps completed, the little blonde had taken a quick shower, mostly to keep the chlorine from turning her hair green, and given her swimsuit a quick rinse. With the suit dried to the best of her ability and packed away, the nineteen year old general’s daughter had taken down her Rapunzel like hair and run her fingers through it to break up any tangles. Her appearance was not perfect, but hopefully she would be alone in the sauna, so it did not really matter. Wrapping a fluffy white towel around her body, she slipped on her flip flops and headed towards the steam room.

A[/font]s she padded along the short distance from the locker room to the sauna, Rosemary found herself wishing again that Jasmine was here with her. Even though she had not seen her friend in person since leaving Italy over a year and a half ago, she somehow found her missing the sprightly girl even more than she did the girlfriend she had been ripped away from when she had been sent here. She had been immediately drawn to Jasmine when she had started her first day of school after moving to Italy, and they had been inseparable ever since. Even being on opposite sides of the planet had not really affected their friendship in any important way.

B[/font]ut now she was here, at a reform school in Spain, and generally alone. She was in such an odd position, too; she had already graduated from high school, but she was not a member of the staff. She supposed that, since she was nineteen, she could have just left, but somehow that did not seem as though it would fix anything. Her family would still want nothing to do with her. Perhaps if she stayed here where they thought that she needed to be then they would eventually realize that there was nothing wrong with the fact that she liked girls as well as boys.

B[/font]ecause despite what her mother assumed, she did still like boys. She was a little shy about them after being burned so badly by Giovanni, but in her heart she knew that not all males were the same. She had loved Gio, but she had wanted to wait to have sex. She had simply not been ready ... and he had repaid her, not with respect and understanding, but with betrayal. She still was not ready to have sex, and if she found herself in another relationship she would of course disclose that (as always), but she could not help but fear that even a good man would be overtaken by his libido and betray her.

S[/font]ighing softly, Rosemary ran her hands through her hair again while using her elbows to make sure that her towel did not slip. She suddenly wished that she had taken the time to brush her long, pale hair out properly, but she did not want to go back to the locker room now. She was at the sauna, and she would probably be alone. After a nice, relaxing steam she would gather up her things, head back to La Campana Academia, and take a proper shower there. Then she would brush out her hair until it shone in a perfectly tangle free sheet.

O[/font]pening the sauna door, Rosemary slipped inside without looking around and took a seat near the door. With one arm across the top of her towel, ready to let it fall, she paused to straighten her bangs with her fingers. With her fingers combing through her bangs, she paused, finally spotting her company.

"O[/font]h!" she said, a soft shade of pink infusing her cheeks. "I’m sorry, I thought I was alone. I -- ah, if you were wanting some time to yourself, then I could leave. I just wanted to relax before heading back up to the school."

R[/font]ealizing that she was rambling, Rosemary clamped her mouth shut, the pink in her cheeks growing brighter. She worried her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, the hand on her towel making sure that it was secure before dropping to her lap with the other. Tugging lightly on the lower edge of her towel to make sure she was somewhat decent, she gave the blond ... ish ... man a little smile. "Ah, I am Rosemary. It is nice to meet you."

Word Count;; eight hundred ninety eight!
Clothing;; a fluffy white towel and white flip flops -- visual aide!
Notes;; I love making my characters blush!
Tag;; Alistair or whoever!