Rub-a-dub-dub (OPEN)

[Zachary LaRousse]

[/IMG][/right]

For the past six years that Zac had been in Hammel, the boy has never really done his own laundry. Usually he just goes to the small family house they have in Pilot Ridge by the end of each week and dumps his load to Pete (despite his father constantly insisting that Pete isn’t Zac’s personal caretaker).

Unfortunately for him though, this time Pete had to leave unexpectedly for the week due to his mother’s condition worsening, leaving the teen with only a handful of clean clothes. Normally the boy’s solution would be to just go out and shop for new ones, but his credit line’s been cut recently as his dad says he’s going to college now so he has to learn how to spend money responsibly. Not to mention there’s not enough room for him to store his new clothes along with his dirty ones. (He would’ve placed them in the house, but Pete didn’t leave him the keys; leaving a house to a teenager who doesn’t exactly have the cleanest record isn’t really the wisest thing to do, he says).

Dragging the first batch of his clothes down the stairs and through the dormitory corridors, he finally located the washing machines and just dumped the whole load in (without even separating whites from coloured, pants and shirts, of course). He also didn’t put any soap or fabric softeners in, simply turning the knob and watching it go. After watching it for a few minutes and not seeing any bubbles, Zac groaned (rather loudly), “What the hell is wrong with this thing? Good lord. Anyone knows how to make this damn thing work?”

[Therru Simmons]

Therru had been doing her own laundry for a long time, and so it was nothing new to her. With a basket of jeans and flannels in hand she headed down to the washing machines. The girl was quite grateful they were here, otherwise it would have been impossible for her to wash even her small wardrobe. If she had to go into town for that she'd just die. When she got there there was someone else there already, and by the sound of it they had never done this before. With another look at the person she realized why. It was Zachary LaRousse. No wonder. What need would he have to be here.

With light steps she set her basket down on a bench, going over to him. She wasn't usually one for contact, but she decided to make an exception for the very frustrated boy. A thin hand was lain on his shoulder, something that was supposed to be a calming gesture. A thin smile graced her lips, and she forced kindness on her face, something she wasn't used to doing.

" You really do need help with this don't you?" She said to him in her usual soft voice. If she was the kind of person to laugh often she would have probably found the sight comical. As it was, she wasn't the kind of person to laugh, but the kind of person to help, albeit quietly.

[Zachary LaRousse]

[/IMG][/right]

Zac doesn’t really like asking for help. (Sure he makes people do things for him, but he insists that it’s an entirely different matter). It makes him feel incompetent and weak, two things his big – and at times, fragile – ego just can’t wrap itself around on. But since the boy’s far from being perfect, he does need help from time to time.

Unfortunately for most, the teen has yet to learn how to ask nicely, and thus usually masks his calls for help with aggression and annoyance.

“No, no, I don’t,” he said with the most sarcastic tone he can muster as he turned to face who it was who dared to put an arm on his shoulder, promptly rolling his eyes after giving her a quick one-over, “I was just musing angrily to the world, because heaven knows I’m a spotlight-hogger like that. Do I really need to spell it out to you Little Miss Obvious? The goddamn thing isn’t lathering! Fuck. And no, I am in no mood to switch machines.”

[/justify]

[Therru Simmons]

The sarcasm of his tone slid over her like water. It was nothing new to her that people weren't polite. He needed help with the machine. It wasn't that hard really. Inside she thought to herself that the swearing wasn't really necessary. The eye rolling was also unnecessary, but that didn't matter either. She took her hand from his shoulder, looking at the machine. He was correct in saying there was no bubbles inside. The girl arched an eyebrow, no emotion behind it, then stopped the machine. It only took a little touch to tell her that there was nothing but water and clothing in there. The clothes didn't even look sorted, as she saw white peaking out from under a red shirt. Oh, that would be nothing short of a disaster.

" Zachary," she said, using his full name because she wasn't sure if she should be calling him by his familiar nickname, " have you ever done this before?" Her voice was completely neutral, not even curiosity coloring it. It would explain quite a bit as to why he was being so angry at the machines. Her own laundry lay forgotten, unimportant for the moment.

[Zachary LaRousse]

[/IMG][/right]

Unfortunately for Therru, her whole emotionless and supposedly objective and non-judgemental technique in dealing with the raging princess actually had the opposite effect; the more she talked, the angrier the boy became. Zac felt like she was actually mocking him, that the calmness she’s exuding is actually insincere and rather sarcastic. It was a type of derision that he hasn’t encountered before that he’s just struggling to keep himself together, as shown by his rapid breathing and tightly clenched fists.

“Call me Zachary again and I swear, you’ll never be able to speak again.” It was a name that he really didn’t like being called by his peers, right up there with Drake. It just seemed so robotic, so mechanical, that when people use it to call him he feels like he’s way below them. (Hashtag ego problems). “And no, I’m so not below hitting a girl.”

He let out a guttural growl when she asked such a question, almost ripping his hair off his head in rage. “Does it fucking look like I’ve done this before? You think I’d need you to get this damn thing started if I’ve done it before? Seriously? Good lord you should win an award for being like that really. Is that your meta ability? To pinpoint the most obvious things and annoy the fuck out of everyone?”

He is actually this close to walking out. Maybe that’d be best right?

[/justify][/font]

[Therru Simmons]

Surprise at how vehement his answer was filtered over her features. She hadn't expected such a response, but honestly she should have known better from what people said. She knew how to deal with people hitting her. Well, she thought she did anyway. Just don't respond. So she wasn't his thread really had no effect on her. Many people had hit her out of anger or frustration before, even if some of them apologised afterward. His growl though, was a slight cause for alarm that wormed its way through her internally. An almost silent sigh passed, and she tried her best to be a calming presence. Not that it would work on him, but what else could she do.

" I apologise." She said to him kindly, ignoring his comment about annoyance being her meta ability. She didn't much talk about her ability with other people. The girl gave him a searching look. She wanted to help, but she would prefer not to incur violence in the process.

" I can help you with this, it's quite easy. I promise." Therru told him, a small smile gracing her lips. Maybe he was only frustrated and didn't have as much of a temper as most people said he did.

[/justify]

[Zachary LaRousse]

[/IMG][/right]

The fact that his threats (and even his growl) did nothing to faze the girl out only served to rile Zac some more. There were only a handful of people who’re seemingly impervious to his threats (his friends, like Robbie and JD, and those he had less-than cordial arrangements with, like Mia, Jalen and Danicca), and he’d want to keep the number as low as possible. He’ll only be in Hammel for a few more weeks, give or take a month; he’d want to at least keep his intimidating image with him until he leaves.

“Someone ever tell you that you talk too much?” said Zac with a grunt, hands on his hips while shaking his head and rolling his eyes. And no, she doesn’t. It’s pretty obvious that the boy’s just too angry for his own good and is barely keeping it in. “Less talking and more doing. It’d be good for both of us; I’d finish with the first batch of my stupid laundry, and I won’t be tempted to rip your tongue off you. Win-win no?” He opened the washing machine and leaned on the wall adjacent to it. “If you please, my lady.”

[Therru Simmons]

No, no one had ever told the girl that she talked too much. In fact, most people told her to speak more, talk up. She didn't let the surprise show though. That wasn't necessary. It seemed he was becoming more angry by the moment, which really made her want to bolt. But no, she was still there, trying her damndest to do something nice instead of being her usual wall flower self. The girl started to carefully pull his clothes out, pulling the water from them mentally so as not to seem like a show-off. It was harder, as she usually used movements to concentrate her abilities. Once the good portion of clothes were out [sorted on either side while she was doing so] she spoke again, softer than before.

" You're supposed to separate colors from white and very light things first." She put the whites in, since they would require the most direction. Therru went over to her things and grabbed her [unscented] laundry soap.

" You add a capful of soap, and then for whites set it on gentle and warm wash." Again, she had ignored his thread, although that was was less terrifying. Then none could make the demand of her voice. She almost wouldn't be sorry if such a thing ever happened. Almost. The girl, of course, didn't realize Zac was effectively getting someone else to do the work for him.

[Zachary LaRousse]

[/IMG][/right]

When Therru started pulling his clothes out, Zac let out a half-irritated, half-relieved sigh and crossed his arms as took a step back and watched the girl do her thing. He did notice that as she placed the clothes on top of the washing machines, they seemed drier. “Neat trick,” he said with an amused – though still cocky – grin, “I’m guessing that’s your power then? Not intense irritation but quick drying? Guess you are useful after all.” The working theory in the boy’s head though is she’s using heat. Like evaporating all the water ever so nicely. He would call her out for it (‘cause he remembers something about hot water and shrinking), but the clothes don’t feel hot at all. Which led him to conclude that she’s using just enough heat to evaporate them but not affect the fabric. Who would’ve thought a wimp like her would have such a high degree of power control?

He felt mighty stupid when she showed him how easy it actually was to get his laundry done, not that he’d tell her that. He would ask why the whites have to go first and why does it have to go into a gentle warm wash, but he doesn’t want to look more idiotic than he already was. “See, that was fast,” he smirked, giving her a thumbs-up. “Less talking, more doing actually works eh? Oh, and I’m guessing it’s just the same when it comes to the blacks and dark-coloured ones?”

To give the pretense of him being the one to do the next one anyway. If he could get the girl to do it for him again, heaven knows he would.