[ Nebula is sitting at the end of a row of chairs, having left two broken laundry machines in her wake: one washer, one dryer. The latter has had its door wrenched off and discarded to the floor, giving her access to an extra large t-shirt she's currently wearing. The former has been beaten into a jagged lump, as she took her frustrations out on rudimentary Terran tech.
She's hunched low and glowering, staring straight ahead at her own clothes spinning around in soapy water. The detergent she grabbed was at random. She threw the whole box in after emptying it and never bothered to read it. Seems to be doing the job fine, if slowly. So. Damn. Slowly. Her focus doesn't waver when someone else wanders in and starts getting up to hijinks.
That is, until he approaches her machine. ] Touch that machine and I'll put you inside it.
laundromat (will avoid vol3 spoilers by default)
She's hunched low and glowering, staring straight ahead at her own clothes spinning around in soapy water. The detergent she grabbed was at random. She threw the whole box in after emptying it and never bothered to read it. Seems to be doing the job fine, if slowly. So. Damn. Slowly. Her focus doesn't waver when someone else wanders in and starts getting up to hijinks.
That is, until he approaches her machine. ] Touch that machine and I'll put you inside it.