After a long day of trying to lend a hand in the medical ward, trying out cardio, doing mental gymnastics with one of the psychiatrists, and then busting up a sweat in the courtyard with some paintballs and some unfortunate cardboard cut outs, Adelaide wanted to call it a day and just fall on her cot and sleep. Well, maybe try to remember to eat as well, but definitely sleep after that. But the issue with the apocalypse was, well, a distinct lack of clean clothes. Or any clothes, really. It made laundry day come much too often for her liking. But hey, she was happy they had a working laundromat at all, so she kept her complaints behind her tongue and dragged her a** down to the laundry room as soon as she was finished with dinner.
Something about seeing a mangled, bleeding body managed to spice up her appetite rather than do the opposite for some reason. Then again, Adelaide was a weird one; her sons had been doomed from the start.
Mumbling to herself as per usual to fill the silence, she picked her way down with her single load (and thank God it was just the single load to worry about, right?) and popped open the nearest washer. After tossing her clothes in, she considered the detergent. How much was needed again?
Eh. She threw in half the bottle just to be sure. This week had been extra sweaty.
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THIS IS HALLOWEEN: Crossroads
This is Halloween Crossroads
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