(no subject)
Who: Sadiq Adnan (Turkey) and Olivier Mani (Cameroon)
When: Sometime at night; Around 11pm
Where: The doctors office
What: After a lovely stunt as barman, Sadiq broke a glass, cut his hand, and was told to GTFO.
Sadiq rather hated himself as he sat on the reclined patients seat, which was sterilized and covered in a thin sheet of paper, crinkling beneath him from hardly the smallest movements. His brows knit together as he slouched forwards, arms resting atop either leg as he waiting for his nurse to arrive and give him the lowdown on this cut. The nurse. Perhaps the lovely lady that would be walking through that door could offer his mind some kind of fabulous getaway from the fact that his arm was dribbling blood onto his trousers. Or at least that's what it had been doing - since his walk over, the cut had more or less slowed to a stop and was instead adorning his palm with a crusty reddish-black. Sadiq couldn't help but give it a thoughtful glance...
Definitely not one of his better battle wounds. Perhaps he could think of something a little more interesting before his nurse came (a fight with some thugs, perhaps). As it was for now, the Turk could only groan and press the unsullied palm to his forehead.
When he had decided to juggle three empty glasses for his adoring customers, Sadiq honestly wasn't anticipating for them all to land on the floor and shatter. After all, he's attempted the task two times before, and he did believe third was the charm. Unfortunately, while trying to rid of the mess before his boss came in, he got himself a lovely nick. Stupid situation was stupid, but what can ya do? One angry boss telling him to get out and fix his hand, and here he now was, grumpy and waiting for his damn nurse to heal him so he can go back.
When: Sometime at night; Around 11pm
Where: The doctors office
What: After a lovely stunt as barman, Sadiq broke a glass, cut his hand, and was told to GTFO.
Sadiq rather hated himself as he sat on the reclined patients seat, which was sterilized and covered in a thin sheet of paper, crinkling beneath him from hardly the smallest movements. His brows knit together as he slouched forwards, arms resting atop either leg as he waiting for his nurse to arrive and give him the lowdown on this cut. The nurse. Perhaps the lovely lady that would be walking through that door could offer his mind some kind of fabulous getaway from the fact that his arm was dribbling blood onto his trousers. Or at least that's what it had been doing - since his walk over, the cut had more or less slowed to a stop and was instead adorning his palm with a crusty reddish-black. Sadiq couldn't help but give it a thoughtful glance...
Definitely not one of his better battle wounds. Perhaps he could think of something a little more interesting before his nurse came (a fight with some thugs, perhaps). As it was for now, the Turk could only groan and press the unsullied palm to his forehead.
When he had decided to juggle three empty glasses for his adoring customers, Sadiq honestly wasn't anticipating for them all to land on the floor and shatter. After all, he's attempted the task two times before, and he did believe third was the charm. Unfortunately, while trying to rid of the mess before his boss came in, he got himself a lovely nick. Stupid situation was stupid, but what can ya do? One angry boss telling him to get out and fix his hand, and here he now was, grumpy and waiting for his damn nurse to heal him so he can go back.