Zasz did not often find himself in these sorts of situations, rarely was he a savior in the literal sense; he saw himself as such naturally, but from an outsider perspective he was but a simple kidnapper. In this moment with Alex there was a strange coupling of feelings towards their current relationship, whatever that happened to be. The end goal was her trust, and or loyalty towards him, failing that, a practical business partnership where she'd pass an eye over his less than savory occupations and perversions. The offer to help wash the abused redhead up had been said personally as a slight mock to her present state, but with a feeble clutch to his coat and a pained plea from the girl it was rather difficult to deny her request, especially when keeping in mind how this could manipulate future interactions; Zasz kept a tally of checks and balances as though playing an intricate game of chess with another person's emotions.
There would come no relenting sigh, or chiding remark as the slaver had been doing prior. It wasn't fair, nor did it serve him any in digging further, and with how she had been acting since the second they had met, she clearly did not desire to show weakness without a grave reason. "I can't scrub away what they did to you, but at least you won't have to be covered in the remnants of that awful place." Mechanical in tone as always, even words meant in comfort had a cold designation, but as stated Zasz never much saw himself as the gentle, caring sort, though his next efforts would be quite contradictory. Kneeling down, he'd again hoist her as carefully as possible into his arms, this time holding her chest to the broad frame of his own upper body. Supporting the mechanic's insignificant weight by using his forearm as a seat for her, he'd take the several steps from one tiny box to another, door sliding out of the way without the input from a control console. This unit was stark white in its paneling, though kept sterile despite what had to be the same level of disuse as the living quarters.
Dividing the room was a ceiling high glass wall. On the entrance side was what appeared to be a sink and cabinet with a bin for clothing and what was assuredly a toilet in the opposite area of the narrow space. Slowly he'd lower he to her feet, though never let a sturdy limb out of her grasp for more than a brief spell in order to remove his thick jacket and secure it on a hook behind him; a cord held up solid black pair of fighting pants and they'd join his coat on the hook. Naked, but not quite, he'd then turn to Alex his visor refocused on her shaking figure. "I am in fact, on the farthest ring from smooth." In this he had to let a laugh go if only a quick and quiet one, as if to try and stress his intentions. "I promise, regardless of how I carried you to a bedroom, offered you drugs, am about to strip you down, and then stand by you while you're showered down. My intent is anything but what it may seem like." Metallic digits wouldn't hesitate in pulling torn threads over a pile of greasy, fiery locks, and the same would be done to what remained of leggings to let her step out of. The clothes were best burned, but would be otherwise ignored for now. Zasz was by no means a shy man, nor tactful when it came to nudity considering his occupation in collecting others for him to stare at. His gaze while obscured should not have been assumed in ogling over a battered woman's form, and it wasn't, but there was no way to not see her in such a pitiful mess all the same.
A gauntlet took hold of a handle far too small for his stature in the middle of the translucent barrier to pull open the door for the two to enter inside the actual cleanser. At a glance there was no gleaming how the the module worked, though if one knew Zasz it would be about as utilitarian as it got. "Been ages since I've used this honestly, so I can't say I quite remember how it goes." A pause came next as he scrolled through a significantly tedious list of ship commands. Most were forgotten about because in truth the captain only required a few inputs on a regular basis; the rest were either automated, or useless for a day to day purpose. Zasz didn't vocally mandate the cleanser program he decided upon when he did in fact find the program for the unit, instead he looked above just in time to catch a set of nozzles above them dropping down from formerly hidden slots. "Think of it this way, after all is said and done, you only have room to grow in my eyes." Never stopping with the horrible jokes, he laughed as hot streams of water fell from above in curtains to drench the two.
About as sealed as could be, there were no leaks in his perfect suit; as long as the pressure did not overwhelm the exoskeleton he could survive in the depths of an ocean for as long as his oxygen supply would last. Eventually he'd have an aquatic transfusion attachment installed to negate any submersible threat entirely, but that was a low priority. Clear fluid changed to a bubbling sea-foam green spray that was likely unpleasant to the touch, but designed to practically envelop an individual and separate oil, grease, and filth with the next cycle of water that rained down. What came next was a rotation of the hygiene phases, two times they'd repeat to insure at least a relatively successful procedure. After ten minutes or so the two were being dried off in what was essentially a wind tunnel of warm air being circulated around the square enclosure.
With a sudden silence of machinery, it was done, and Zasz shrugged at the entire ordeal. Were he not a man clad in metal armor, he'd probably have invested in a bathtub, but as it stood, this was as good as it got on the Greenhouse. There was no point in standing around much, letting her walk, but always allowing the support of his arm, he gave a motion with his free hand to his own pair of dry apparel resting on the hooks. "They'll be a bit baggy on you, that's for sure, but it will have to do till I find something more your size. Not like I need to wear anything anyways, I'm just a creature of habit."
There would come no relenting sigh, or chiding remark as the slaver had been doing prior. It wasn't fair, nor did it serve him any in digging further, and with how she had been acting since the second they had met, she clearly did not desire to show weakness without a grave reason. "I can't scrub away what they did to you, but at least you won't have to be covered in the remnants of that awful place." Mechanical in tone as always, even words meant in comfort had a cold designation, but as stated Zasz never much saw himself as the gentle, caring sort, though his next efforts would be quite contradictory. Kneeling down, he'd again hoist her as carefully as possible into his arms, this time holding her chest to the broad frame of his own upper body. Supporting the mechanic's insignificant weight by using his forearm as a seat for her, he'd take the several steps from one tiny box to another, door sliding out of the way without the input from a control console. This unit was stark white in its paneling, though kept sterile despite what had to be the same level of disuse as the living quarters.
Dividing the room was a ceiling high glass wall. On the entrance side was what appeared to be a sink and cabinet with a bin for clothing and what was assuredly a toilet in the opposite area of the narrow space. Slowly he'd lower he to her feet, though never let a sturdy limb out of her grasp for more than a brief spell in order to remove his thick jacket and secure it on a hook behind him; a cord held up solid black pair of fighting pants and they'd join his coat on the hook. Naked, but not quite, he'd then turn to Alex his visor refocused on her shaking figure. "I am in fact, on the farthest ring from smooth." In this he had to let a laugh go if only a quick and quiet one, as if to try and stress his intentions. "I promise, regardless of how I carried you to a bedroom, offered you drugs, am about to strip you down, and then stand by you while you're showered down. My intent is anything but what it may seem like." Metallic digits wouldn't hesitate in pulling torn threads over a pile of greasy, fiery locks, and the same would be done to what remained of leggings to let her step out of. The clothes were best burned, but would be otherwise ignored for now. Zasz was by no means a shy man, nor tactful when it came to nudity considering his occupation in collecting others for him to stare at. His gaze while obscured should not have been assumed in ogling over a battered woman's form, and it wasn't, but there was no way to not see her in such a pitiful mess all the same.
A gauntlet took hold of a handle far too small for his stature in the middle of the translucent barrier to pull open the door for the two to enter inside the actual cleanser. At a glance there was no gleaming how the the module worked, though if one knew Zasz it would be about as utilitarian as it got. "Been ages since I've used this honestly, so I can't say I quite remember how it goes." A pause came next as he scrolled through a significantly tedious list of ship commands. Most were forgotten about because in truth the captain only required a few inputs on a regular basis; the rest were either automated, or useless for a day to day purpose. Zasz didn't vocally mandate the cleanser program he decided upon when he did in fact find the program for the unit, instead he looked above just in time to catch a set of nozzles above them dropping down from formerly hidden slots. "Think of it this way, after all is said and done, you only have room to grow in my eyes." Never stopping with the horrible jokes, he laughed as hot streams of water fell from above in curtains to drench the two.
About as sealed as could be, there were no leaks in his perfect suit; as long as the pressure did not overwhelm the exoskeleton he could survive in the depths of an ocean for as long as his oxygen supply would last. Eventually he'd have an aquatic transfusion attachment installed to negate any submersible threat entirely, but that was a low priority. Clear fluid changed to a bubbling sea-foam green spray that was likely unpleasant to the touch, but designed to practically envelop an individual and separate oil, grease, and filth with the next cycle of water that rained down. What came next was a rotation of the hygiene phases, two times they'd repeat to insure at least a relatively successful procedure. After ten minutes or so the two were being dried off in what was essentially a wind tunnel of warm air being circulated around the square enclosure.
With a sudden silence of machinery, it was done, and Zasz shrugged at the entire ordeal. Were he not a man clad in metal armor, he'd probably have invested in a bathtub, but as it stood, this was as good as it got on the Greenhouse. There was no point in standing around much, letting her walk, but always allowing the support of his arm, he gave a motion with his free hand to his own pair of dry apparel resting on the hooks. "They'll be a bit baggy on you, that's for sure, but it will have to do till I find something more your size. Not like I need to wear anything anyways, I'm just a creature of habit."
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Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 04-30-2015, 10:27 PM
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