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Who: Axl and Open?
When: Evening (20:10)
Where: Showers
What: Cleaning himself and what have you?
Rating: TBA

With a small huff, Axl stepped into the showers. He hated doing this every time. Once, the guy had to punch a man just to get a point across. Rough thing to do just to cover your bum to get through a way to clean yourself. Undeterred by the odds that would probably be stacked against him one day, he undressed. Stripping off the shirt first he looked around, nope, no one was looking. Then he kicked out of the bottoms, there was still a no with that bit. He sighed in relief, this was all he needed. Still, the man didn't feel safe, but there he was standing in the shower, waiting for someone to strike so he could punch their lights out. He had heard rumors and stories of people getting gang raped up the ass, but none really have tried it yet on the twenty-one year old fighter.

He grabbed the soap, it slipped out of his hands and onto the floor. His palm hit his face, why did the old joke of 'don't drop the soap' have to happen to him? He would ignore it, that was a bad omen or something. He reached for the shampoo and just washed his hair instead, ignoring the fact that the bar of soap was slipping out of his view and gliding out into the walkway between the showers. He didn't need it anyway right? He could always come back in the morning. That was the attitude he was taking as he kept scrubbing the smell of cleaning solution off his skin with shampoo of all things. Hell, this was better than nothing and he didn't want to go to his cell smelling like ammonia used to clean the freaking walls.  Bloody hell he hated that sent.  How he got stuck with being janitor he didn't know, but these days he was cleaning toilets, picking trash, and feeling like a bag of shit because the guards all loved to make him do extra work.  Ky was the only saving grace.  If he wasn't there, the fighter would have lost all respect for authority at all.  Even then, with how young the guy was, he didn't take him serious enough.

Trying his damnedest to get the smell of cleaners off his hair was proving difficult, and it was a chore.  He wasn't about to cut his blond locks.  Nope, that would be torture for him.  So, he did his best to get solutions and chemicals off his body the best he could.

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It had taken a while for him to find his way towards the showers but he knew he was there by the sound of running water. He walked around slowly now, as he moved to the locker room, taking off his clothes and the blindfold, grasping his towel and wrapping it around his waist. he walked towards the shower, but he didn't see the bar of soap that was on the ground. He slipped and cracked his head on the floor, groaning out he started to curse, quite loudly, and in a very unknown language. He slowly got up to his feet, feeling the bar of soap and grasping it as he stood, mumbling to himself as he moved along into the showers. The bruising didn't hurt, but it looked like it did, the side of his arm and ribs were turning a deep purple rapidly he must have been a very thin blooded person.