HOME | DD

Description
Ty'Ron stepped out of the conventional shower and took his time drying himself off. He had no pressing assignments today, so he forewent the sonic shower. He did find the fact that he had to groom himself to liking rather inconvenient, but he also enjoyed the feeling of fresh hot water beating against his body. It was one of the few simple pleasures that he was glad to partake in within the cold vacuum of space.

As he wrapped his towel around his waist, he took a brief glance at the chrome rectangle sitting near the wall of his bathroom. A faint snarl grew on his face. He knew he shouldn't neglect his daily weigh-in since he was required to record his weight every morning and every evening and give an end-of-the-month report to his medical advisor. However, he hated being reminded of his expanding mass and how it put him on thin ice with Starfleet HQ. As far as he was concerned, his weight was irrelevant. As long as he did his job properly, why should it matter if he was on the heavy side? That's what he thought at least. With a heavy sigh, he walked onto the scale and heard the loud beep of it's activation. He tried to look down to see the numbers on the scale... only to be met with his slightly damp furred dome blocking his view. He could see bits of his toes, but it had been a while since he was able to see his feet entirely. He wasn't sure if that should be considered an accomplishment or not. Then, with a second "beep", the scale finished it's assessment and read him his "fortune".

"You weigh 175 kilograms, or 385 imperial pounds. You are very overweight for your species. Recommendation: a change in diet and a rigorous exercise routine is in order."

Ty'Ron growled inwardly as he heard the scale read out it's diagnosis. It was one thing to read out his weight to him every time he got on the scale, but it irritated him how it recommended a treatment to mitigate his weight. It felt like swallowing a sour pill every morning. He stepped out of the bathroom and began to dress himself up for the day, slipping into his briefs that he laid out on the edge of his desk chair. The words echoed through his mind as the waistband of his briefs snapped to his body. He knew he was fat and knew he had to do something about it. He just wished everyone would stop getting on his case about it. It was more than enough that he was outgrowing his clothes. He found himself grumbling as he left his quarters and headed for the mess hall for breakfast.

"I swear, they made scales that talk back to you to annoy people on purpose..."

Description
Ty'Ron stepped out of the conventional shower and took his time drying himself off. He had no pressing assignments today, so he forewent the sonic shower. He did find the fact that he had to groom himself to liking rather inconvenient, but he also enjoyed the feeling of fresh hot water beating against his body. It was one of the few simple pleasures that he was glad to partake in within the cold vacuum of space.

As he wrapped his towel around his waist, he took a brief glance at the chrome rectangle sitting near the wall of his bathroom. A faint snarl grew on his face. He knew he shouldn't neglect his daily weigh-in since he was required to record his weight every morning and every evening and give an end-of-the-month report to his medical advisor. However, he hated being reminded of his expanding mass and how it put him on thin ice with Starfleet HQ. As far as he was concerned, his weight was irrelevant. As long as he did his job properly, why should it matter if he was on the heavy side? That's what he thought at least. With a heavy sigh, he walked onto the scale and heard the loud beep of it's activation. He tried to look down to see the numbers on the scale... only to be met with his slightly damp furred dome blocking his view. He could see bits of his toes, but it had been a while since he was able to see his feet entirely. He wasn't sure if that should be considered an accomplishment or not. Then, with a second "beep", the scale finished it's assessment and read him his "fortune".

"You weigh 175 kilograms, or 385 imperial pounds. You are very overweight for your species. Recommendation: a change in diet and a rigorous exercise routine is in order."

Ty'Ron growled inwardly as he heard the scale read out it's diagnosis. It was one thing to read out his weight to him every time he got on the scale, but it irritated him how it recommended a treatment to mitigate his weight. It felt like swallowing a sour pill every morning. He stepped out of the bathroom and began to dress himself up for the day, slipping into his briefs that he laid out on the edge of his desk chair. The words echoed through his mind as the waistband of his briefs snapped to his body. He knew he was fat and knew he had to do something about it. He just wished everyone would stop getting on his case about it. It was more than enough that he was outgrowing his clothes. He found himself grumbling as he left his quarters and headed for the mess hall for breakfast.

"I swear, they made scales that talk back to you to annoy people on purpose..."