[ Waking up in a place like this may as well be Christmas morning for Hickey. He has no idea where he is or if this place is even real, but he's in no position to get picky about such details. This is a miracle if there ever was one.
He's quick to roll out of bed—as much as he'd love to stay swaddled up in a real bed for the first time in years, he's suddenly aware of how horrendous he smells—and sets off to explore his new surroundings without much thought for his suitemates.
First stop: BREAD. Hickey spends a good hour in the Banquet Hall with a mountain of bread on his plate, enjoying the assortment as if it was a seven-course meal prepared by a fleet of personal chefs. He's dressed in his underclothes: a simple long-sleeve undershirt and matching longjohns, with a fancy pair of knee-high boots that definitely tie the whole outfit together. His greatcoat is slung over the back of the chair next to him.
Upon closer inspeciton, his clothes are filthy with sweat and the elements. When's the last time this dude bathed? He sighs happily and slouches back in his chair. ]
You wouldn't believe what I was eating before this.
[ His tone suggests it wouldn't be wise to ask. ]
---
[ Later, he can be found in the bathroom. His freshly-laundered clothes are draped over one of the Greek statues to dry. As you enter, he's stepping out of the shower, a towel around his waist. ]
Why bother with all this if the baths aren't even operational?
[ An idle question more than a grumble. The shower did just fine for him—though his mouth tightens as he spots the toy boat. He pads over to it to give it a closer inspection. Is this for him? ]
---
[ Eventually, he does wander back to Water Lily Suite. He explores a little, digging through the wardrobes and peruses the assortment of products in the powder room, but before long he's sprawled out on one of the beds. He knows he woke up next to someone, but who cares? He's had enough of sharing. ]
no subject
He's quick to roll out of bed—as much as he'd love to stay swaddled up in a real bed for the first time in years, he's suddenly aware of how horrendous he smells—and sets off to explore his new surroundings without much thought for his suitemates.
First stop: BREAD. Hickey spends a good hour in the Banquet Hall with a mountain of bread on his plate, enjoying the assortment as if it was a seven-course meal prepared by a fleet of personal chefs. He's dressed in his underclothes: a simple long-sleeve undershirt and matching longjohns, with a fancy pair of knee-high boots that definitely tie the whole outfit together. His greatcoat is slung over the back of the chair next to him.
Upon closer inspeciton, his clothes are filthy with sweat and the elements. When's the last time this dude bathed? He sighs happily and slouches back in his chair. ]
You wouldn't believe what I was eating before this.
[ His tone suggests it wouldn't be wise to ask. ]
---
[ Later, he can be found in the bathroom. His freshly-laundered clothes are draped over one of the Greek statues to dry. As you enter, he's stepping out of the shower, a towel around his waist. ]
Why bother with all this if the baths aren't even operational?
[ An idle question more than a grumble. The shower did just fine for him—though his mouth tightens as he spots the toy boat. He pads over to it to give it a closer inspection. Is this for him? ]
---
[ Eventually, he does wander back to Water Lily Suite. He explores a little, digging through the wardrobes and peruses the assortment of products in the powder room, but before long he's sprawled out on one of the beds. He knows he woke up next to someone, but who cares? He's had enough of sharing. ]