I'd certainly hope it'd be nicer than a place full of ghosts?

[Rude.]

[For his part, Aether isn't nearly as neat with his clothes, peeling them off and regarding them with disgust before throwing them into a laundry basket. They splatter with a wet sound that's even more unappealing, leaving him wondering whether he should have aimed for the garbage can instead.]

[By the time he's bare, he glances over at Brickston, noticing the eyepatch. When he doesn't immediate take it off--]

Do you want me to wash your hair for you? That way you can keep your eye covered. Or...

[Eyes... trailing downward.]

...do you want a hand with that?