(open)
Who: ignite_the_sky and OPEN
When: Dec. 14, afternoonish
Where: The marketplace
Format: Action or prose, either is fine. (setup is prosey)
What: Ri's attempt to bring him back into the game. AKA. He's spent the past six weeks with broken ribs and both hands encased in casts, so now that he's finally healed up, he's trying to get his life back. "Trying" being the operative keyword.
Warnings: IDK
It had been six weeks. Six weeks consisting of bed rest, humiliation, painkillers, a drugged haze, attempts to keep himself occupied while Riza was busy and attempts to make himself as unobtrusive as he was able when she was home. It was the longest six weeks of his life, but it was over now. The casts had come off, his ribs had healed, and all that remained was trying to get the dexterity back that he'd lost while in casts. His hands and wrists had looked so different -paler, weaker, the scars darker, the veins more visible than they'd been before. He'd taken to hiding them for now, wearing gloves and long sleeves even when indoors, though with the winter weather, it wasn't as though he'd stand out for it.
He'd gotten bored with waiting around in Riza's apartment for her to return from work and Allison had been curled up under the table, fast asleep, so there hadn't been anything for him to do. The idea to venture outside and attempt to do some of the shopping had been met with uncertainty at first, but he'd latched onto it after an hour or two of having nothing to do, and so he'd fumbled with his boots, with his coat, with the spare key, and made his way to the marketplace.
The decrease of manual dexterity caused by being cast-bound was doubled by the lack of dexterity that gloves provided, which made trying to dig through his wallet and pick up things slightly difficult. The prices were a little higher due to shortages, but food was one of those necessary evils, and with two people living in that apartment, it was only fair that he try to help with something now that he was able.
When the wallet he was attempting to open fell from his hands to the ground, though, he was really beginning to regret his decision to come out. It wasn't the first time he'd dropped it, or the third, or even the fifth, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Maybe he should have stayed inside after all...
When: Dec. 14, afternoonish
Where: The marketplace
Format: Action or prose, either is fine. (setup is prosey)
What: Ri's attempt to bring him back into the game. AKA. He's spent the past six weeks with broken ribs and both hands encased in casts, so now that he's finally healed up, he's trying to get his life back. "Trying" being the operative keyword.
Warnings: IDK
It had been six weeks. Six weeks consisting of bed rest, humiliation, painkillers, a drugged haze, attempts to keep himself occupied while Riza was busy and attempts to make himself as unobtrusive as he was able when she was home. It was the longest six weeks of his life, but it was over now. The casts had come off, his ribs had healed, and all that remained was trying to get the dexterity back that he'd lost while in casts. His hands and wrists had looked so different -paler, weaker, the scars darker, the veins more visible than they'd been before. He'd taken to hiding them for now, wearing gloves and long sleeves even when indoors, though with the winter weather, it wasn't as though he'd stand out for it.
He'd gotten bored with waiting around in Riza's apartment for her to return from work and Allison had been curled up under the table, fast asleep, so there hadn't been anything for him to do. The idea to venture outside and attempt to do some of the shopping had been met with uncertainty at first, but he'd latched onto it after an hour or two of having nothing to do, and so he'd fumbled with his boots, with his coat, with the spare key, and made his way to the marketplace.
The decrease of manual dexterity caused by being cast-bound was doubled by the lack of dexterity that gloves provided, which made trying to dig through his wallet and pick up things slightly difficult. The prices were a little higher due to shortages, but food was one of those necessary evils, and with two people living in that apartment, it was only fair that he try to help with something now that he was able.
When the wallet he was attempting to open fell from his hands to the ground, though, he was really beginning to regret his decision to come out. It wasn't the first time he'd dropped it, or the third, or even the fifth, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Maybe he should have stayed inside after all...