[ So here's the thing: he's exhausted, he's irritable, he's a little bit miserable, and a significant part of him just wants to go home. Straight back to his cozy little cottage, his soft bed, his comfortable kitchen, his welcoming hearth ... but instead, he's here. Dragged cheerfully along in the wake of Gil's seemingly impenetrable enthusiasm, as always.
Adra spent quite some time walking around the area, trying to find a relatively secluded spot. Because, truly, here was the other thing: it was near impossible to get him to do what he didn't actually want to do. Adra is creature of fire, and this place was made for him. He's only ever visited one natural hot spring in his life, and that was surrounded by vicious prehistoric lizards. This scenery (now largely cleared of lizards) is infinitely more preferable, aside from all the people around, of course.
Hence, he makes an effort to find a relatively isolated pool--or so he thinks.
He stops worrying about it once he's in the water, anyway: it's just as searingly hot as he'd hoped for. Adra stands upright in the spring, submerged to his waist. His long, blond hair spills into the water, floating artfully. His tattoos, scrawled over every inch of him from the throat down, glow faintly red and seem to shift as he moves through the water, their patterns breaking and connecting in time with the strain of his muscles.
Adra is still as slender as ever, but there's fresh substance to him now, after a few hard months of training. His arms and back have new tone to them, a firmness and weight that wasn't there on his arrival. He feels gratified, a little, to see it.
Adra runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. He's begun to relax, just a bit. It's quiet. No one can see him. But he does wish that he brought a comb. ]
adrasteius | open
Adra spent quite some time walking around the area, trying to find a relatively secluded spot. Because, truly, here was the other thing: it was near impossible to get him to do what he didn't actually want to do. Adra is creature of fire, and this place was made for him. He's only ever visited one natural hot spring in his life, and that was surrounded by vicious prehistoric lizards. This scenery (now largely cleared of lizards) is infinitely more preferable, aside from all the people around, of course.
Hence, he makes an effort to find a relatively isolated pool--or so he thinks.
He stops worrying about it once he's in the water, anyway: it's just as searingly hot as he'd hoped for. Adra stands upright in the spring, submerged to his waist. His long, blond hair spills into the water, floating artfully. His tattoos, scrawled over every inch of him from the throat down, glow faintly red and seem to shift as he moves through the water, their patterns breaking and connecting in time with the strain of his muscles.
Adra is still as slender as ever, but there's fresh substance to him now, after a few hard months of training. His arms and back have new tone to them, a firmness and weight that wasn't there on his arrival. He feels gratified, a little, to see it.
Adra runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. He's begun to relax, just a bit. It's quiet. No one can see him. But he does wish that he brought a comb. ]