Setting: Copper Bathroom
Time: Night 001
Summary: Rayne gets clean, and thinks about what the hell is going on.
Luckily, the Copper Bathroom was free the second time she checked it. Giving a mix of a sigh and a growl as she kicked the door shut behind her, Rayne didn't bother admiring the room. She was far too stressed at the moment, pissed at being shot, pissed at being filthy, pissed for apparently caring about someone. Taking out some of her frustration as she searched the cabinets, the redhead was calmed, just a little, by the time she found the bottle of baby oil, setting it next to the sink, along with a washcloth.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, her boots are unzipped, thrown into the tub behind her. Standing, she began unlocking the many things connected to the holsters at her thighs, lining them up along the bathroom counter. A pair of handguns, a knife to match the one that girl now had, a pair of longer daggers, and three steel throwing knives. Small leather pouches, most empty, save for one. Ammo magazines, and the occasional emergency, almost unbreakable vials of blood. Popping one open and drinking it like it was a shot of tequila, the dhampir shivered as it went down, feeling it tingle down her throat and stomach. After a moment, her holsters are taken off, thrown in the tub with her boots.
Unlocking the clamps that held her blades on her arms, they were slipped off, and gently propped against a wall close by. Her gloves were next, pulling them off by starting with the fingers and slowly sliding them off, tossing them in the bathtub as she had everything else. If anything, her gloves and boots were skin tight. No blood had gotten inside them, leaving most of her arms and legs to be a clean, pale stretch of white. Keeping her mind occupied with the process of stripping, and how she was goig to get her outfit cleaned, Rayne scowled lightly as it came time to remove her dress. The main outfit was no /as/ skintight as her boots and gloves, blood having seeped inside to seal the leather clothing to her skin. This was going to be a bitch to get off.
Through many growls, and curses, the dress was removed, joining everything else leather in the tub. Grabbing the bottle of baby oil, and pouring some onto the washcloth, the redhead began the vigorous process of scrubbing off dried blood with nothing more than baby oil and elbow grease. It was, however, a familiar process, though it had been a long time since she had been this covered in grime. It also allowed her mind to wander, thinking back to everything that had happened so far.
She had no idea where she was. For all she knew, nobody had any idea where they were. For a short moment, Rayne even wondered if it was the same dimension, before scoffing at that thought. So far, she had not seen anything to suggest that, or anything that was odd for her. Even Zetsu ranked normal, on her list. Another thing was the time. After living for ninety four years, time did seem to crawl, but her internal clock told her it had been long enough for the stars and moon the change positions. However, a look out the window has proved this theory wrong. Either time was standing still - Something she wouldn't exactly consider a bad thing, considering that pesky thing called sunlight, and how everything usually came out to play after dark. - or going extremely slowly. If it was the last, she would be mad by the next nightfall, she was sure, because if night went slow, then so did the day, which brought up plenty of problems. Shelter and food, for instance.
And then, there was the fact that for all the people here, no one had left. Either the house couldn't be left, or something outside was keeping them from leaving, something she would have to look into when she could. And, if they couldn't leave, cabin fever was sure to eventually be a problem, no matter how big this place was. But that would be something that would be dealt with when the time came.
And then there was Rayne herself. And that damned girl, who for some reason, Rayne felt protective over. It was odd, and confusing, and uncomfortable, but not new. The redhead for a moment wondered if she should just not bother going back to the room, and leave the kid, since people she usually cared for had a bad habit of getting killed. Flashing back to the Brimstone Library, with Sir Tremaine, his own intestine wrapped around his neck, somehow still alive and strong enough to activate the grenade in his hand, Rayne snarled, hand clenching around the washcloth as she dropped it back into the sink. Grabbing a nearby towel to dry off, simultaneously wiping off as much oil as she could, she tossed it in a random direction, not bothering to see where it hit the floor.
Coating her hands in the oil, and starting to scrub her hair clean, the dhampir pushed those thoughts from her head, wondering why the hell she even cared. If she had been in the girl's position then... Tensing and freezing, Rayne realized with a rush of horror that the first time she had seen this much blood and violence when she was young, it was when that Nazi bastard killed her mother and the rest of her family.
"Son of a bitch." She whispered, looking up into the mirror at her own shocked expression, before quickly whirling around at seeing the figure behind her. Seeing no one there, however, or smelling or hearing anyone else, she snorted, laughing at herself. "Ghostly perv." She muttered to no one, hands going back to her hair.
Well, damn it. Looked like she'd have to stick around with the girl. The world didn't need another her.