revivalproject | Spa Day

WHO: Catra, Tony, OTA (come find either of them in this state, and/or join the spa day)
WHERE: The Hot Springs, Temba
WHAT: Spa Day
WHEN: early/mid month
WARNINGS: TBD

With how often things seemed to blow up in the forge it shouldn't have been a surprise, but this particular occasion had left the both of them coated in a greasy smoke that clung stubbornly to their skin.

Catra was adamant that she hadn't caused the explosion, blaming it on the D.A.T.A. unit, though the truth was she maaaay have had something to do with it. She wouldn't have touched anything if she knew she'd wind up like this. Especially when Tony insisted the only way to get it off was a proper bath. Catra had protested, ready to live out her days like this rather than be subjected to that torture, but Tony tried to sweeten the deal by promising they'd make a day of it. A whole 'spa' experience.

And now that the horrors of the bath were done, Catra sat sulking beside the spring in some sort of face mask, hair up in a towel, nails painted and filed, with strange spacers between her toes, and cumato slices over her eyes. She turned her head towards Tony and grumbled- "When is the fun supposed to start?"

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The arguing to get this far had been entertaining, the the noise that Catra had made after being dunked in the water had been substantially hilarious, it all had drained Tony's energy and left him heavy-limbed and less than eager to start another fight. He lounged against the cave wall, one foot still soaking in the steaming waters of the hot spring, careless of the end of his silk robe drifting alongside it. His hair was wrapped as well, and the clay mask was making it more difficult to talk as it dried on his skin and he had to murmur, "Just a couple more minutes, it'll kick in, trust me." Maybe if Catra forced herself to be quiet and patient for those two minutes, the steam and pampering would lull her to sleep and Tony could actually relax and maybe even get that stubborn knot out of her hair before she noticed. In the meantime, he continued to file his own nails with the same precision that he shaped the blade of a knife.

She huffed a sigh through her nose, not about to admit that certain parts were maybe okay now that they were more or less done with the water. This sitting still part wasn't idle either, but at least Tony wasn't distracted by work anymore (at least as far as she was aware).

"You sure they stick salads on people's faces? You aren't just making fun of me?" she asked, pushing a cumato slice back up as it threatened to slide down her face. Something about it seemed suspcious.

Tony was quiet for a moment, like he had to really think about this question, even the sound of his filing and restless bouncing pausing to leave them listening to the echoing drip throughout the cavern and gentle lap of the water that he had swirled around the spring. Not moving made him very aware of the lingering sting of Catra's scratches, and he sucked his teeth, twisting his arm to make sure that the one up his wrist wasn't bleeding anymore, then slouching over to stick it into the water for some relief. "Both can be true," he eventually admitted. He deserved to make fun of her at least a little bit, he'd earned it in blood. "Who told you what a salad was? I feel like I've missed some important milestone. Eating your vegetables and everything. Has anyone given you coffee yet?"

She smirked, and Tony earned a small squeaky laugh, Catra relaxing some with the teasing.

"Mm- yeah, it's kind of like tea," she acknowledged, a reference point she actually had from back home. It wasn't the best comparison for any proper coffee or tea enthusiast, but they were both hot brown water. Close enough.

"It tastes kind of gross, but it grows on you."

"They grow up so fast," Tony lamented in the ten seconds he could stand not being personally offended by the comparison. A year ago, Catra probably would have thrown a cup of coffee at his head and he would still have the burn marks. There came a rush of water as he shifted, and some jangling as he rifled through the bag of equipment they had brought along before he was scooting closer to Catra's head. "Tea isn't nearly as good," he insisted, fingertips tapping along her scalp as he searched for that mat in her hair that had earned him some of those scratches earlier. "It doesn't have caffeine in any quantity that matters, and you're supposed to be quiet while drinking it. I can't think of anything good where you're supposed to be quiet."

Her ears twitched, following his movements, half ducking before surrendering to Tony's searching fingers with a low grumble.

"Who said you have to be quiet drinking tea?" She'd been doing it very wrong, "Is that why Jon likes tea?"

"I think that's because he's English," Tony provided. "Small country, very rainy, native gene removes taste buds." Outside of the matting she still seemed to manage, Catra's shorter hair was easier to control than it used to be. Tony could work his way through the rest of it with her brush with little resistance, slowly parting out the worst sections.

"My girlfriend," he eventually answered, when he had made enough of a pattern out of Catra's hair to focus on. "Before I came here. She was a lot like you, actually. Spitfire, ready to throw a punch. She ran a sister company of mine, then spent all night at parties and clubs, then flew across the ocean to do it all again the next day. Tea, though, was supposed to be a whole ceremony. You slow down, and you keep quiet, and you show gratitude for each other."

By now Celty was a regular to the hot springs. She just usually didn't find other people here, which suited her just fine, given her...state of being, but ever since being locked up with everyone she'd decided it was easier not to be so rigid about it. At least the people who had discovered her true nature hadn't been absolutely horrified by it. Or at least she hoped they weren't.

Footsteps sound from the caverns, but given her shadow-black bodysuit it was probably difficult to even get a good look at who had arrived. She had her helmet tucked under an arm as she casually walked towards the pools of water and stopped as she realized it wasn't going to be a private session.

Catra's ears picked up the unfamiliar footsteps, twitching expectantly as she waited for them to announce themselves in some way.

"...did Tony rope you in for the Spa Day?" she prompted, cumato slice slipping as she spoke and drooping down until she pushed it back into place. "We have more goop, right?" she asked Tony.

Tony's ears were not nearly sensitive, and he had sunk down into the warmth of the water until Catra's voice was a distant murmuring when she did suddenly speak. His brow pinched in irritation, but then she was talking again and he had to at least open his eyes to glare at her for intruding on his compiling.

That was when he flinched, startled much more awake by the looming, headless shadow, splashing as he flung on arm back to hook over the rock and ready to haul himself back and out. Luckily, that was as far as he got, his other hand going to his pounding heart to reassure it that this was a familiar, looming, headless shadow, not one that was about to possess Catra. As far as he knew. "You really have to stop doing that, warn a guy, start introducing some colour into the wardrobe, gold, maybe," he complained with a small illustrative gesture of his hand to his own much less intimidating suit. The towel that had been twisted around his head sloughed over into the water, and he frowned at it, letting it slowly sink onto his knee. It was going to be a cold trip back out of the cave.

An actual cat girl? At least Celty's staring wasn't so obvious. Hopefully Catra wouldn't fly into a panic like Tony once she noticed what was missing. Speaking of which... Somehow Tony might get the impression that he was getting a flat look from the dullahan, despite the absence of obvious features. She turned back towards Catra, turning over the earlier question. Spa day?

Now that Celty took the situation in, she could see that they'd definitely planned for this outing. Stooping down, she set her helmet on the ground before stepping closer to the edge of the steaming pools. Shadows swirled around her, her riding suit warping, changing to reveal more skin as it shifted into a modest, black one-piece bathing suit.

Her tablet in hand, the headless woman tapped at the screen before turning it to the other two.

[Obviously I didn't get the memo about a spa day. You don't mind if I join?]

Looking (?) over at Tony and the expression he was making at his soggy towel, she held a hand up to form a black towel, setting it on his head. It didn't feel like a towel to be sure, but it was oddly solid and soft enough, not to mention dry.

Spa Day

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hi

oh my gosh, I'm so sorry

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