Dorm laundry room, Thursday evening

[cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com]

Zayne had learned an important lesson: don't sleep in public here. He learned another lesson, too: sometimes ink doesn't want to come off of skin.

But right now he was able to get some time away from common rooms and roommates who wear very little clothing, and that made things... well, more peaceful if nothing else. He only had a few sets of robes and he couldn't wear them indefinitely without washing them (even if he did come from a galaxy where it seemed like people often only wore one outfit for years). So he was doing laundry. And the weird sounds the washer was making were more than enough to help distract him from thoughts that weren't proper for a potential Jedi and the fact that he had things drawn on his face. Instead, he could just focus on whether or not the machine was supposed to be making these noises. He was pretty sure it wasn't.

"This thing better not explode," Zayne said to himself. "That would ruin the peace."

[OOC: As open as a laundry room!]