Championship Lockerroom: Leah was able to clean up a little bit...(Luck:-20, Suspicion: -10)

Doing her best with limited options, she turned on the faucet, but the water pressure was low and it barely trickled into her hands. She hoped there might be some paper towels to help mop up the mess. ****, she scanned the room again, hoping there might be a spare roll of towels hidden somewhere. But every nook and cranny was bare and the reality hit her like a ton of bricks—there was nothing. Not even a square of toilet paper in sight.

She grimaced and went back to the mirror, using her fingers to scrape and flick away as much off her skin as she could. It was sticky and still wet, and without paper products it was a futile effort that only spread it around more. Despite the hopelessness, she wiped at herself in vain, resigned that there was little she could do in the moment. With a deep breath and another sigh, she admitted defeat.

Then she caught a glimpse of something shiny in the wastebasket. Her eyes lit up with hope as she saw it was the cardboard center of a used toilet paper roll, but still with a few precious strands clinging to it. It was better than nothing and she lunged to grab it, unraveling the last scraps of toilet paper very carefully. She wrapped it around her hand and used it to wipe up as much as she could, grimacing at the stickiness. Leah went over her skin in frantic circles, barely enough to make a dent in the mess. But she had to try. She rubbed every spot where she was covered, focusing on getting the worst of it as the final bits of paper disintegrated.

She could only get so much off. And she couldn't risk trying to find a shower in the unfamiliar athletic complex. But she had done her best. She had to get back to the game.