Post by tuathade on May 3, 2011 16:45:13 GMT -5
"I didn't start that. I didn't throw a single punch."
The guard glared impassively down at him, and didn't say a word.
"You were there - you saw the whole thing. I didn't even hit back!" Arkady was insistent. He didn't want this unfortunate little incident turning into a black mark on his already sketchy record. He was already in shackles, shardit, he had no interest in turning that into a straightjacket... Or getting strapped down to a cot, for that matter. He'd gone through the mandatory 24-hour detox. No interest in that happening again, thanks.
Granted, Arkady hadn't thrown a punch, but he probably shouldn't have implied that one of his fellow prisoners was the unfortunate result of illicit acts with a wher... That had been a bad idea. But it had been so easy at the time! He couldn't resist! Impulse control. It was a serious problem with him.
So now here he was, sitting quietly on a bench in the infirmary, waiting for a healer while his guard glared at him. The ex-Harper had definitely come off worse in the scuffle. Having shackles on your hands and feet tended to do that. Leaning forward, Arkady rested his elbows on his knees and pinched just below the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding; it didn't feel broken, just hurt. Arkady suspected he didn’t even need to be at the infirmary – he’d had far worse before – but the guard insisted.
Shards, he was going to have some interesting bruises the next day, though.
The guard glared impassively down at him, and didn't say a word.
"You were there - you saw the whole thing. I didn't even hit back!" Arkady was insistent. He didn't want this unfortunate little incident turning into a black mark on his already sketchy record. He was already in shackles, shardit, he had no interest in turning that into a straightjacket... Or getting strapped down to a cot, for that matter. He'd gone through the mandatory 24-hour detox. No interest in that happening again, thanks.
Granted, Arkady hadn't thrown a punch, but he probably shouldn't have implied that one of his fellow prisoners was the unfortunate result of illicit acts with a wher... That had been a bad idea. But it had been so easy at the time! He couldn't resist! Impulse control. It was a serious problem with him.
So now here he was, sitting quietly on a bench in the infirmary, waiting for a healer while his guard glared at him. The ex-Harper had definitely come off worse in the scuffle. Having shackles on your hands and feet tended to do that. Leaning forward, Arkady rested his elbows on his knees and pinched just below the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding; it didn't feel broken, just hurt. Arkady suspected he didn’t even need to be at the infirmary – he’d had far worse before – but the guard insisted.
Shards, he was going to have some interesting bruises the next day, though.
