Atlas Gym | Friday
When Dimitri arrived at the gym, he was greeted immediately by a high-pitched scream emanating from the back room. The keys in his hand hit the floor as he raced across the main room, leaping over equipment rather than wasting time going around. Bursting through the door, he came to an abrupt stop, unsure if he should succomb to the urge to laugh or leave.
Jessi sat on the stool in front of the laundry counter, body wrapped in what appeared to be a huge cocoon of towels...dirty towels if Dimitri was judging by the stench. "Oh thank God it's you! They wo--" A towel jumped to cover her mouth and the muffled eww-ing was made more evident by the look in Jessi's eyes.
If the towels hadn't seemed to be tensing (or looking tempted by the new arrival), Dimitri might not have looked around for a solution to this living whites issue and noticed the conveniently prepared washing machine bubbling with suds. Fandom was always so giving with these things. "Are you rethinking the choice not to do any laundry while Rose and I were gone last week?" Dimitri inquired, already prepared to attack the towels regardless of her answer. Luckily, Jessi's head moved a millimeter against the strain of her bindings.
The movement was enough and Dimitri reached and quickly peeled a towel from her side, causing the thing to immediately wrap itself around his forearm and begin squeezing like a boa constrictor. He'd hoped to toss the terrible towel into the washer, but with it clinging on there wasn't much choice. He plunged his arm into the soapy water and the towel seemed to sigh, sinking happily to the bottom.
Dimitri eyed the fifty or so towels still writhing around Jessi. "Lather, rinse, repeat," he murmured, setting to work at this new task.
Have no fear, he left the towel covering her mouth to the very last. It was a strategy to keep Jessi from invoking the rage of any more linens. Really.
Jessi sat on the stool in front of the laundry counter, body wrapped in what appeared to be a huge cocoon of towels...dirty towels if Dimitri was judging by the stench. "Oh thank God it's you! They wo--" A towel jumped to cover her mouth and the muffled eww-ing was made more evident by the look in Jessi's eyes.
If the towels hadn't seemed to be tensing (or looking tempted by the new arrival), Dimitri might not have looked around for a solution to this living whites issue and noticed the conveniently prepared washing machine bubbling with suds. Fandom was always so giving with these things. "Are you rethinking the choice not to do any laundry while Rose and I were gone last week?" Dimitri inquired, already prepared to attack the towels regardless of her answer. Luckily, Jessi's head moved a millimeter against the strain of her bindings.
The movement was enough and Dimitri reached and quickly peeled a towel from her side, causing the thing to immediately wrap itself around his forearm and begin squeezing like a boa constrictor. He'd hoped to toss the terrible towel into the washer, but with it clinging on there wasn't much choice. He plunged his arm into the soapy water and the towel seemed to sigh, sinking happily to the bottom.
Dimitri eyed the fifty or so towels still writhing around Jessi. "Lather, rinse, repeat," he murmured, setting to work at this new task.
Have no fear, he left the towel covering her mouth to the very last. It was a strategy to keep Jessi from invoking the rage of any more linens. Really.