[center][h2]Eli[/h2][/center]

Eli continue to stare at Sienna eyes wide with anticipation, like a puppy discovering its first treat in a long time, before something roughly tumbled over him followed by a loud splash, planting his face firmly into the tile. A weak mewl of pain manages to escape his throat as he picks himself up slightly to examine his attacker (or...victim he supposed in this case?) before catching an eyeful of the current sopping wet young woman, whose decency was currently being protected solely through  divine will and the fortunate forethought of whomever designed her outfit. He quickly turns his gaze back to Sienna before being reminded of her current state (or lack there of) dress, his senses now being re-awoken with the rage of a thousand suns. 

[color=#00bb12]”Why are they all naked...”[/color] he blurts to himself, now suddenly extremely interested in the superb craftsmanship of the floor. That is a well made floor. Almost artisan in quality. Arthur's suggestion they reconvene in a few moments was welcomed with bittersweet relief. While he was hesitant to leave the first bodily example of a holy act, their bodily examples were starting to stress him out. And he had no interest in probing 'Miss Foxtrot' for spiritual insight while waging a battle to maintain eye contact. He gently slips off his jacket, tossing it to the blonde. [color=#00bb12]”You can borrow that till you're clothed properly...”[/color] he mutters, before quickly making for the exit, sighing in relief as he was greeted by the calm cream paint of the hallway. 

He lagged for a moment before heading to the lounge, stopping as an offensive tune hit his ears mixed with screams for mercy. He hurries in to the now darkened room, brushing gently past a young man staring agape at the girl who just exited. A young man(who he only vaguely recognized as being from the pool area) was clutching at his skull, apparently pained by the noise. His eyes scanned the room, for once knowing what to do as he grabbed a hefty steel stool from the floor. In one of his few trips to civilization proper, a local has recounted a tale of the previous week to him, in which a drunken tourist had taken to assaulting a 'juke box' after it 'ate' his money. 

At the time, he'd found the story to be crude and, frankly, perplexing. The destruction as wanton and pointless as the outrage it inspired in the teller. But now he was forced to muse on the oft unexpected ways god prepares ones self for unseen disasters as he brought the stool down in a flurry of blows onto the offending stereo(or at least he hoped), the sound of splintering plastic now replacing the cacophony of noise. He huffs for a moment, taking in the new found silence, before turning back to the pained man. There is a brief pause before he realizes how insane he must look at the moment, words stumbling out of his mouth. [color=#00bb12]”I um...D...Dont...know what the bare naked ladies did to cause such an offense but I think that stopped it?”[/color] he manages finally, holding the stool in front of him in case the man became upset with his impulsiveness. 

[@wolverbells][@Utrax][@SheriffLlama]