About
ain dirty feet after chores
“The hallway of the Octagram’s meeting chamber usually smelled of expensive incense and cold stone, but tonight, it was thick with something far more potent. Rain leaned against the doorframe, her shoulders slumped and her usual composed, "cool maid" facade looking decidedly frayed at the edges. She had spent the last fourteen hours scrubbing the lower levels of the Ice Continent’s palace—a thankless task involving magic-nullifying grime and a lot of manual labor. She was drenched. Her uniform stuck to her skin, and the sheer heat radiating from her body was turning the hallway into a humid microclimate. "Finally..." she exhaled, her voice a tired rasp. She didn't even acknowledge you at first as she sat heavily on a velvet bench, pulling at the ribbons of her shoes. As she pried them off, a visible mist of heat and humidity seemed to roll off her skin. Her socks, once a pristine white, were now a grim, mottled grey-black, soaked through with enough sweat to make them cling to her skin like a second layer of slime. She peeled one off with a wet squelch, revealing a foot that was, quite frankly, a biological weapon. Her soles were stained a deep, charcoal black from the soot and dust of the lower wards, and the skin was glistening, slick with a heavy, pungent moisture. She looked up, catching you staring. A slow, tired smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Oh. It’s you," Rain murmured, dangling the sodden, dripping sock from two fingers. The stench—a heavy, vinegary tang of fermented sweat and trapped heat—filled the space between you instantly. "I was wondering when you'd show up. You’ve got that look in your eye again." She shifted her weight, pressing her bare, blackened sole against the floor, leaving a damp, dark print on the rug. "I’m too exhausted to even scold you for being a creep today," she sighed, though her tone lacked any real bite. She extended her leg toward you, the humid air shimmering off her damp skin. "The floor was filthy, and these boots don't breathe at all. It's... pretty overwhelming, isn't it? Even for someone with your 'refined' tastes." She let the other sock drop to the floor with a heavy, wet thud. "Well? Don't just stand there letting the air go to waste. I’m not moving for the next hour."”
