Jason Lee Scott (
kingtyrantranger) wrote in
crux_fleet2014-05-08 04:55 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Laundry Night
Who: The Red Ranger
Where: Laundromat
When: Late Night, Majo 6th
Warnings: ???
When Zordon gave him his powers and told him to use it in the fight against evil, Jason had agreed readily. He'd sworn not to use his powers for personal gain, nor to reveal his identity. Probably to keep him from seeking fortune and fame, violating that other rule. And the big one: Never escalate a fight. Technically, he was obeying all of those rules here.
Technically.
Jason's fabricator had been on the fritz. As best as the techs could tell, someone on that floor had tried for so many repeating orders that it had activated a safety feature. Except that, due to some jury-rigging on their part, they were pulling power from everyone's fabricators, meaning all of them had been shut down. That wasn't the bad part, Jason had saved enough money to buy food from the various stands. The bad part was being unable to do up clothes real quick when he had to get everything washed.
And it couldn't wait. For one of the last stages of his training, they'd had to do a planetary drop and raid. Which, apparently, meant that the NCOs had fun whipping up a mud pit and throwing the cadets into it face first, then running them through a building where veteran Security officers got to shoot at them. And they weren't finished. More 'fun' awaited them later.
For now though, he got to put up with the fact that he couldn't fabricate new clothes, and his cadet's uniform couldn't be fabbed anyway. Tech blocks, keeping civilians from having access to things they shouldn't, he guessed. So, no clean clothes, no way to get clean clothes, and he had to be in the Fleet-issued uniform tomorrow for the review.
So there he was. Pulling a late night in the laundromat near the low-cost 'temporary' housing he'd yet to move out of. Anyone passing by will be treated to the sight of the Red Ranger, in full costume, folding underwear while apparently waiting for the rest of his laundry to finish up.
It beat sitting around in his boxers.
Where: Laundromat
When: Late Night, Majo 6th
Warnings: ???
When Zordon gave him his powers and told him to use it in the fight against evil, Jason had agreed readily. He'd sworn not to use his powers for personal gain, nor to reveal his identity. Probably to keep him from seeking fortune and fame, violating that other rule. And the big one: Never escalate a fight. Technically, he was obeying all of those rules here.
Technically.
Jason's fabricator had been on the fritz. As best as the techs could tell, someone on that floor had tried for so many repeating orders that it had activated a safety feature. Except that, due to some jury-rigging on their part, they were pulling power from everyone's fabricators, meaning all of them had been shut down. That wasn't the bad part, Jason had saved enough money to buy food from the various stands. The bad part was being unable to do up clothes real quick when he had to get everything washed.
And it couldn't wait. For one of the last stages of his training, they'd had to do a planetary drop and raid. Which, apparently, meant that the NCOs had fun whipping up a mud pit and throwing the cadets into it face first, then running them through a building where veteran Security officers got to shoot at them. And they weren't finished. More 'fun' awaited them later.
For now though, he got to put up with the fact that he couldn't fabricate new clothes, and his cadet's uniform couldn't be fabbed anyway. Tech blocks, keeping civilians from having access to things they shouldn't, he guessed. So, no clean clothes, no way to get clean clothes, and he had to be in the Fleet-issued uniform tomorrow for the review.
So there he was. Pulling a late night in the laundromat near the low-cost 'temporary' housing he'd yet to move out of. Anyone passing by will be treated to the sight of the Red Ranger, in full costume, folding underwear while apparently waiting for the rest of his laundry to finish up.
It beat sitting around in his boxers.