(no subject)
Although Jaime did not much care for attempting to swim, he enjoyed the showers in the compound as well as the hot springs located in the caves nearby. He had briefly considered using the waterfall but he thought probably far too many people did that for it to be altogether sanitary. Also the caves provided some degree of solitude. If the right sort of person walked back, well, certainly he would share the bath otherwise he just hoped the steam or warmth would keep him from brooding too much.
There wasn't much in terms of light so he'd managed to find some sort of torch. He'd left his clothes in a neat pile next to a towel quite some distance from the flames for although he had been lucky enough in recent days, he prefered not to have his clothes burnt should that change. Watching the light and shadows dance on the rocky walls was comforting. The Kingslayer did not want to think about what he missed. He was tired of people reminding him of what he was or the children he had or the life he had been ripped away from. Westeros could go hang but he felt oddly responsible for Tommen and Myrcella. He wanted to know how Loras was faring and how much harm had come to Brienne. I am not the sort who deserves friends but I nearly had some which is more than my sweet sister can say but it's hardly enough.
Perhaps he ought to go join others at the sept --such as it was-- or he ought to find meditation a try. Prior to the island and the sellswords whenever it had occured to Jaime to think, he would have sparred but here that would only result in more troubling and negative thoughts. There were other distractions to be had as well that would have required movement and lounging provided some small relief to his tension. He considered shadow-puppets rather briefly and sighed in mild amusement. He had never been at all good at keeping himself occupied.
[ooc: open to anyone]
There wasn't much in terms of light so he'd managed to find some sort of torch. He'd left his clothes in a neat pile next to a towel quite some distance from the flames for although he had been lucky enough in recent days, he prefered not to have his clothes burnt should that change. Watching the light and shadows dance on the rocky walls was comforting. The Kingslayer did not want to think about what he missed. He was tired of people reminding him of what he was or the children he had or the life he had been ripped away from. Westeros could go hang but he felt oddly responsible for Tommen and Myrcella. He wanted to know how Loras was faring and how much harm had come to Brienne. I am not the sort who deserves friends but I nearly had some which is more than my sweet sister can say but it's hardly enough.
Perhaps he ought to go join others at the sept --such as it was-- or he ought to find meditation a try. Prior to the island and the sellswords whenever it had occured to Jaime to think, he would have sparred but here that would only result in more troubling and negative thoughts. There were other distractions to be had as well that would have required movement and lounging provided some small relief to his tension. He considered shadow-puppets rather briefly and sighed in mild amusement. He had never been at all good at keeping himself occupied.
[ooc: open to anyone]