video;

[synanthrope]

Hot springs.

Isn't it a little warm for hot springs? The best time for them is the winter, isn't it?

[Although she won't get in a hot spring any time so maybe that's a moot point....]

I suppose a massage might be pleasant. Or just watching.

[She's perched on a rock nearby, but far enough from the edge to avoid getting wet.]

Comments

[dignity_misery]

[It's the reaction she expected.]

Not overmuch.

[synanthrope]

Then nothing terribly interesting. People seem to be enjoying this.

[dignity_misery]

Some people are easily amused.

[synanthrope]

You're not.

[dignity_misery]

I'd guess I have different tastes.

[synanthrope]

Presuming taste, of course.

[dignity_misery]

[She laughs.]

I've never had much.

[synanthrope]

No?

[dignity_misery]

Taste seems to imply a care for perceptions.

[synanthrope]

And of course, you don't.

[dignity_misery]

Of course?

[synanthrope]

Isn't that what I'm supposed to get from that comment?

[dignity_misery]

You can take what you like from it, Saya.

[synanthrope]

[Saya's smile is just slightly wider]

I will.

[dignity_misery]

I thought so.

[synanthrope]

You said something about a massage.

[dignity_misery]

[The smile is faint, lazy.]

Yes. I'm not too bad.

[Spoiler: she practiced on Barbet.]

[synanthrope]

[Saya takes off that gauzy top. There's a scar, a long line, down one shoulderblade]

Please. Show me.

[dignity_misery]

[Oh my, a please an everything, she just chuckles darkly, she pushes up, offering out a hand if Saya wants to take it.]

I asked about using one of their tables.

[synanthrope]

[She takes it and unfolds up, but there's a grace to her movement]

And?

[dignity_misery]

You're in luck.

[Back inside, a few hallways and a door. The padded table will do a bit better than spreading her out on the rocks.]

[synanthrope]

[There's a table; Saya doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with stretching out on it.]

[dignity_misery]

[Of course she doesn't, and Carla settles herself at the head of the table, reaching down to brush the hair away from Saya's neck. Her hands are generally cold, and she spends a moment poking through the oils for something to do the trick. Whatever she finds, it smells like cinnamon and ginger when she begins to work out the shape of Saya's skull and the bridge of spine connected.]

I am surprised someone hadn't already jumped on it.

[It's a faint murmur, not strictly requiring an answer.]

[synanthrope]

Some people don't like to touch me.

[dignity_misery]

Like who?

[Carla is completely incredulous about this. Maybe she forgets not everyone likes skin as much as she does. She doesn't care about whether it's bared or not, she cares about touching it.]