Glad to have the choice made for him, Caleb mutters a quiet thank you and opens the bottle to start working the shampoo into his hair. It smells good--a subtle combination of herbs with a hint of warm spice, not unlike some of the teas he knows Yussa prefers.
The two of them take their time in the bath, and Caleb hears a little more about Yussa's trip. He emerges feeling clean and more pampered than ever, and when they return to the bedroom Caleb has the unique, fascinating, and intimate experience of watching Yussa choose clothing and dress. He has only his clothing from yesterday available, but with some strategic use of prestidigitation it gets clean enough. Before long he is pulling back his damp hair and donning his book holsters, properly decent again for the first time since...about this time yesterday, honestly.
When he is ready, he takes a moment to clean up their breakfast, bringing the tray back to the low table it came from. All the while, he looks on curiously as Yussa chooses and puts on his jewelry, slightly enraptured by the process.
After the bath, Yussa applies a lightly scented cream to his face, neck, and hands. He considers his wardrobe while still draped in a dressing robe. Eventually he's dressed in something relatively simple. He hasn't bothered to bind his chest beneath it. He chooses his jewelry with the knowledge that they will be working, so for now he avoids any rings and puts only small rings in his ears.
That isn't quite the end of it. Yussa plucks up a small cosmetic pot and applies what appears to be gold dust as eyeliner.
"Ready?" he asks as he looks over at Caleb. Yussa can actually admire him properly this time - he'd barely noticed what Caleb was wearing when he arrived yesterday. He gestures for the young man to follow as he leaves through an ornate wooden door, which opens onto a spiral staircase.
"Ready," Caleb confirms, taking in the vision that is Yussa before the archmage leads him away. Even in an ensemble that is dressed down from his usual, he is stunning. The peek at his bare shoulders where his robes and shawl leave them uncovered draws Caleb's eye on the walk down the stairs to the workroom.
Caleb isn't wearing anything special--he rarely is, according to him--but that doesn't mean there isn't anything to admire. In particular, wearing his book harness over a plain white shirt nicely emphasizes the width of his shoulders, and draws a pleasing line to his narrow waist. Simple attire is a good look on him.
When they arrive, what draws Caleb's attention first is once again Yussa's clothing, but this time it is the pile of garments left strewn on the floor near the desk, removed in a hurry and then forgotten when they left the room suddenly via teleportation. Yussa's desk, too, is in disarray. Things are pushed haphazardly to the side--Caleb's doing, in an attempt to keep them out of the way--and papers are scattered and ruffled where Yussa's body had lay on top of them.
Though the effects must have long dissipated, Caleb can still detect a strange scent lingering in the room, something both smoky and sweet.
"It appears we may have to reorganize a little before we can find the appropriate notes," he says, a little humor coloring his voice. Nothing seems damaged or spilled, at least. Caleb, as the only one more or less in his right mind yesterday afternoon, had hurriedly shifted anything that seemed delicate aside.
To Yussa's credit, he takes in the mess of his workroom impassively. And it is only a couple centuries of experience that keeps him from visibly blushing as he recalls - far more vividly than he expected - exactly how it ended up this way.
"Indeed," he says with a dry amusement. It speaks to their personalities, he thinks, that even in the heat of the moment there was some attempt to preserve notes and samples. Yussa sweeps over to the large work table and makes a quick gesture over his clothes. They disappear and he turns his attention to the mess-not-mess on the table. No ink spilled, no components knocked over, so there's that at least.
"Best I think to lay the notes out, we can piece them together." Hopefully. Though Yussa can at least follow his own train of thought across several pages, once he's found where it started.
The way that single word is spoken threatens to bring an actual laugh to Caleb's lips, but he refrains, smiling just a little wider instead. Wordlessly, he joins Yussa in his tidying up. With his discarded clothes transported elsewhere, it really is just the notes that needs to be reordered, and maybe the components recategorized, unceremoniously shoved aside as they were.
They spend time on that, talking softly between them as they determine what pages go where and in what order Yussa had performed his experiments yesterday. It's both exciting and strangely comforting to be trusted with Yussa's personal work this way, and Caleb enjoys both absorbing the information, including Yussa's thoughts and theories, and presenting his own ideas. Before long they have things organized again, and they are both looking at the component that Yussa suspects caused his issue yesterday.
"Were you trying to identify its properties?" Caleb wonders, brow furrowing. He looks over the page of notes they'd quickly determined to be the most recent, but of course no observations are written beyond a certain point. Yussa had been too preoccupied for that. "Or combine it with something else?"
Yussa looks at his notes where they clearly cut off - not mid-sentence, thankfully, but halfway down a page. He frowns in thought, trying to remember what he'd been doing, exactly, when everything went wrong.
"I think the former, and in the process did the latter," he muses as he looks over some of the samples still out on the table. He finds the offending component to bring it closer - some plant that had been growing in the Silted Vale. "But what did it combine with...?"
He asks the question mostly to himself, scanning the table again to try to sort out what else he might have touched.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The two of them take their time in the bath, and Caleb hears a little more about Yussa's trip. He emerges feeling clean and more pampered than ever, and when they return to the bedroom Caleb has the unique, fascinating, and intimate experience of watching Yussa choose clothing and dress. He has only his clothing from yesterday available, but with some strategic use of prestidigitation it gets clean enough. Before long he is pulling back his damp hair and donning his book holsters, properly decent again for the first time since...about this time yesterday, honestly.
When he is ready, he takes a moment to clean up their breakfast, bringing the tray back to the low table it came from. All the while, he looks on curiously as Yussa chooses and puts on his jewelry, slightly enraptured by the process.
no subject
That isn't quite the end of it. Yussa plucks up a small cosmetic pot and applies what appears to be gold dust as eyeliner.
"Ready?" he asks as he looks over at Caleb. Yussa can actually admire him properly this time - he'd barely noticed what Caleb was wearing when he arrived yesterday. He gestures for the young man to follow as he leaves through an ornate wooden door, which opens onto a spiral staircase.
no subject
Caleb isn't wearing anything special--he rarely is, according to him--but that doesn't mean there isn't anything to admire. In particular, wearing his book harness over a plain white shirt nicely emphasizes the width of his shoulders, and draws a pleasing line to his narrow waist. Simple attire is a good look on him.
When they arrive, what draws Caleb's attention first is once again Yussa's clothing, but this time it is the pile of garments left strewn on the floor near the desk, removed in a hurry and then forgotten when they left the room suddenly via teleportation. Yussa's desk, too, is in disarray. Things are pushed haphazardly to the side--Caleb's doing, in an attempt to keep them out of the way--and papers are scattered and ruffled where Yussa's body had lay on top of them.
Though the effects must have long dissipated, Caleb can still detect a strange scent lingering in the room, something both smoky and sweet.
"It appears we may have to reorganize a little before we can find the appropriate notes," he says, a little humor coloring his voice. Nothing seems damaged or spilled, at least. Caleb, as the only one more or less in his right mind yesterday afternoon, had hurriedly shifted anything that seemed delicate aside.
no subject
"Indeed," he says with a dry amusement. It speaks to their personalities, he thinks, that even in the heat of the moment there was some attempt to preserve notes and samples. Yussa sweeps over to the large work table and makes a quick gesture over his clothes. They disappear and he turns his attention to the mess-not-mess on the table. No ink spilled, no components knocked over, so there's that at least.
"Best I think to lay the notes out, we can piece them together." Hopefully. Though Yussa can at least follow his own train of thought across several pages, once he's found where it started.
no subject
They spend time on that, talking softly between them as they determine what pages go where and in what order Yussa had performed his experiments yesterday. It's both exciting and strangely comforting to be trusted with Yussa's personal work this way, and Caleb enjoys both absorbing the information, including Yussa's thoughts and theories, and presenting his own ideas. Before long they have things organized again, and they are both looking at the component that Yussa suspects caused his issue yesterday.
"Were you trying to identify its properties?" Caleb wonders, brow furrowing. He looks over the page of notes they'd quickly determined to be the most recent, but of course no observations are written beyond a certain point. Yussa had been too preoccupied for that. "Or combine it with something else?"
no subject
"I think the former, and in the process did the latter," he muses as he looks over some of the samples still out on the table. He finds the offending component to bring it closer - some plant that had been growing in the Silted Vale. "But what did it combine with...?"
He asks the question mostly to himself, scanning the table again to try to sort out what else he might have touched.