Night 56: Men's Bathrooms (M41-M80)
[from here]
Once inside, Grell gave the room a quick visual sweep and then locked the door behind him. There was no way he'd let anyone walk in on him as he changed. To be honest, he would have preferred going into one of the stalls, but they were likely filthy and he would rather be out in the open and clean than have extra privacy and possibly step in something wholly unpleasant. And it wasn't like he could shower here either. By the looks of the faucets and the appearance of rust stains in the sink basins, the water itself was bound to be infested with diseases the likes of which even medieval Europe hadn't seen.
After changing out of the uniform and into his usual attire, Grell used the pillowcase to wipe down one of the mirrors and check his reflection. If only he'd been able to get a facial as well as a manicure in town... Being here had him neglecting several of his usual beauty regiments and Grell feared it would start to show. He could care less for the monsters or the constant danger of death or even the fact that he'd been turned mortal, but if he ever got a single dark spot, mole, or wrinkle, he was going to murder everyone in the Institute.
Thankfully, today's check showed nothing but a speck of mascara clinging to his cheek where the false lashes had touched the skin and that was quickly wiped away. Satisfied with his appearance, the death god stuffed the Institute uniform into the pillowcase and tossed it into the corner. It always came back no matter what he did to it, so why take care of it at all? With things settled, he turned and headed for the door.
[skipping a hallway to here]
Once inside, Grell gave the room a quick visual sweep and then locked the door behind him. There was no way he'd let anyone walk in on him as he changed. To be honest, he would have preferred going into one of the stalls, but they were likely filthy and he would rather be out in the open and clean than have extra privacy and possibly step in something wholly unpleasant. And it wasn't like he could shower here either. By the looks of the faucets and the appearance of rust stains in the sink basins, the water itself was bound to be infested with diseases the likes of which even medieval Europe hadn't seen.
After changing out of the uniform and into his usual attire, Grell used the pillowcase to wipe down one of the mirrors and check his reflection. If only he'd been able to get a facial as well as a manicure in town... Being here had him neglecting several of his usual beauty regiments and Grell feared it would start to show. He could care less for the monsters or the constant danger of death or even the fact that he'd been turned mortal, but if he ever got a single dark spot, mole, or wrinkle, he was going to murder everyone in the Institute.
Thankfully, today's check showed nothing but a speck of mascara clinging to his cheek where the false lashes had touched the skin and that was quickly wiped away. Satisfied with his appearance, the death god stuffed the Institute uniform into the pillowcase and tossed it into the corner. It always came back no matter what he did to it, so why take care of it at all? With things settled, he turned and headed for the door.
[skipping a hallway to here]