Thankfully, washing by hand is all that is required of you from me. The rest can go into the machines.

[They reach the common room, cross through it, and into the room on the side where, as promised, the washing machines reside. They line one of the walls, one in use, the others with their doors open and awaiting a workload. Carlisle cocks his head to the side, beckoning Genji toward an empty one.]

I tend to use two of the machines at a time -- one for dyed clothing, and the other for lighter colors. Dyes can bleed, obviously.

[Or maybe that isn't so obvious. He rubs stiffly at his neck.]

Regardless, you can probably fit everything you have into one machine. Then you add a cup of this—

[He reaches to pluck a box of detergent off a shelf on the wall, but finds his arm refuses to bear the weight; he drops it with a hiss, the energy in his limb fighting against his control. Thankfully, the box was still closed when he dropped it, so he didn't make a total mess of the floor. Instead, he just made himself look like a fool incapable of even simple tasks. Great.]