[As the sun begins to sink into the distant desert and the day folds in upon itself that night may unfurl, Achilles sits washing the day's dust from his body. Long had been the hours passed at the collapsed mine, rescuing the workers from its dark labyrinthine depths and mending their wounds. Although he considers the friendship of the Qorral to be a meager morsel, far from rich enough to truly satisfy, his heart is not so hardened that he would refuse to help as he once so scorned the war-loving Argives: it had been Olivia's distress that stirred him to move, and so too does he consider that his aid may win him the respect he so deserves from the wild-eyed Qorral.
At his feet sits a tin wash basin filled with water, into which he dips the washcloth. He then wrings it out and with it scrubs at his skin to clean away the layer of dirt that all over clings. It is as he wipes the cloth along the length of his arm that he receives the message from Olivia. He has expected that soon she should return to him, and so the warmth that tinges his expression is plain when he makes his answer.]
Indeed, dear Olivia - here I wait in these quarters we together share. Where are you now if not here at my side?
[The flickering image projected by the jewelry provides a generous view of his bared chest, upon which glistens the water with which he washes himself. He wears his tunic girded around his waist but unpinned at the shoulders, although this the framing of the feed hides. Although he had purchased garments such that the Qorral clad their bodies with, he stubbornly chooses his own native clothes when the day winds down and he seeks comfort more so than a shield from the omnipresent dust.]
no subject
At his feet sits a tin wash basin filled with water, into which he dips the washcloth. He then wrings it out and with it scrubs at his skin to clean away the layer of dirt that all over clings. It is as he wipes the cloth along the length of his arm that he receives the message from Olivia. He has expected that soon she should return to him, and so the warmth that tinges his expression is plain when he makes his answer.]
Indeed, dear Olivia - here I wait in these quarters we together share. Where are you now if not here at my side?
[The flickering image projected by the jewelry provides a generous view of his bared chest, upon which glistens the water with which he washes himself. He wears his tunic girded around his waist but unpinned at the shoulders, although this the framing of the feed hides. Although he had purchased garments such that the Qorral clad their bodies with, he stubbornly chooses his own native clothes when the day winds down and he seeks comfort more so than a shield from the omnipresent dust.]