http://ganymedon.insanejournal.com/ (
ganymedon.insanejournal.com) wrote in
metem_logs2012-10-09 05:39 pm
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Entry tags:
laundry.
Characters: Ganymede & OPEN
Time: October 9th, around 11AM.
Rating: TBD
Warnings: Ganymede. :P
Summary: Ganymede can't find the laundry room, and has nothing to wear. Well, sort of.
Ganymede had ventured out of his room, his thin arms wrapped around a basket of clothing and sheets, stacked just a little too high for him, but not high enough as so he couldn't peek over them and maneuver his way around. There had to be someplace to wash these things, otherwise, the only clean clothes he had were the ones left on his body, which, honestly consisted of a pair of...almost unmentionably short boxer shorts and a tank top that was a little too big for him, hanging off of his frame in a floating, fleeting sort of way.
But where to go? He tried his floor, first. There were plenty of interesting places, but no laundry room that he could observe (and if there was, it wasn't entirely out of the question that he had perhaps, missed it. He was a little caught up in the massiveness of the place. He hoped, for a minute, that he would find someone perhaps a little more familiar, or at least someone who'd washed their clothes here before, and for a little bit of guidance. Or, alternatively, someone who could at least carry the basket for him, as it started getting a little too heavy in his arms.
With Lethe having jumped into the basket, he sighed a little, and carried her as well.
Time: October 9th, around 11AM.
Rating: TBD
Warnings: Ganymede. :P
Summary: Ganymede can't find the laundry room, and has nothing to wear. Well, sort of.
Ganymede had ventured out of his room, his thin arms wrapped around a basket of clothing and sheets, stacked just a little too high for him, but not high enough as so he couldn't peek over them and maneuver his way around. There had to be someplace to wash these things, otherwise, the only clean clothes he had were the ones left on his body, which, honestly consisted of a pair of...almost unmentionably short boxer shorts and a tank top that was a little too big for him, hanging off of his frame in a floating, fleeting sort of way.
But where to go? He tried his floor, first. There were plenty of interesting places, but no laundry room that he could observe (and if there was, it wasn't entirely out of the question that he had perhaps, missed it. He was a little caught up in the massiveness of the place. He hoped, for a minute, that he would find someone perhaps a little more familiar, or at least someone who'd washed their clothes here before, and for a little bit of guidance. Or, alternatively, someone who could at least carry the basket for him, as it started getting a little too heavy in his arms.
With Lethe having jumped into the basket, he sighed a little, and carried her as well.
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"Hey, you look a little lost," Ogma said, "Need a hand with something?"
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"I'm just trying to find the laundry room. But this place is kind of big. Do you know where it is?"
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"Thanks. I'm sure I would have been lost for a while." he giggled, tagging close behind the man. "Hm. You're Ogma, right? I don't think I've met you in person yet, but it's nice to."
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"I guess I like either. People...around here usually call me Ganymede, though. I kind of like it."
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"Ganymede it is, then. Anyway, the laundry's this way..." he said, heading for the stairs that led down into the basement.
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But it was unlike him not to at least try to make small talk, anyway. He smiled, and tried to say something that wouldn't come off as too awkward or overeager.
"So- are you doing well? Here, I mean. I've been a little...turned around by everything, I think." he shrugged.
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Lethe stood up, and her weight shifted, making Ganymede give an unsteady wobble on the stairs. Oh, this wouldn't do. He hesitated, before taking another step. It was hard enough already without Lethe wiggling around in his basket.
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Ogma looked at Ganymede struggling with the basket.
"Here, let me," he offered, taking it for him.
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"Danke." he chimed, giving him something of a half-hug, not meaning anything by it. After all, it was sort of what Ganymede did.
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"Do you live with your folks?" Ogma asked, "Or do they check in with you regularly?"
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He paused, and thought for a moment. "As for my parents, they...check in with me regularly. They kind of- kicked me out when I was 18. I mean, they made sure I had a place to stay, but my dad thought it would help me out somehow. Kind of weird, I guess."
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He paused for a moment.
"You have someone looking out for you, then?"
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The question caught the little cupbearer off guard. Did he? Well, his parents called an awful lot, and he'd had Apollo over to visit...
"I usually have someone...looking out for me. Sometimes my parents call, and sometimes I- well, I can usually find guys to help me out if I need it. So, I don't think I am doing too badly on my own."
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"And good to hear. You seem like a good kid. New York can be a tough town. It's good if someone's got your back."
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"Oh...no, I don't think I'm very good at all. But you're right. It is pretty...tough, sometimes."
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"Oh, people tell me I'm not, sometimes. I'd probably agree with them...the things I like, some of the things I do, well, they're not very good at all." he looked down a little, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
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"I have a way with men." he shrugged, cat purring in his arms. A straightforward answer for a simple question.
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"Ah, and here's the laundry."
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"Maybe not. Some people...think it's my fault, though. Or that maybe I should be ashamed that I enjoy it. But.." he shrugged. He bit his lip for a moment, and realized he was holding onto a pair of pink boxer shorts, before tossing them quickly in with the rest of the wash.
"I don't really think too much of myself, sometimes."
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"I don't really know about that. People usually only see what I look like, and then they make judgements from there." he shyed away, as he finished up getting his laundry properly stowed and figured out how to work the machine.
"I...also don't think I'm anyone worth thinking very highly of. I never really have been."
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"I can't see why," he admitted, "You seem like a fine young man."
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"I'm glad you think so. And I'm glad you were around to help me." he chimed, and reached up to give Ogma a hug. It just felt good to be around someone willing to actually talk to him.
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"Sure thing, kid. You need anything, you just come ask Coach C, ok?"