Yelling is Therapeutic *For Ric, OTA to peanutgallery commentary.*
Martini was confused. And upset. And angry. And no amount of coloring books were helping. He couldn't understand why Ric had been mad at him. What was he supposed to do, let Logan just sit there and let him poke a few new holes in his boyfriend? And then Rictor had yelled at him for no good reason. Now, everything was wrong, including his mood. Mark didn't like being mad. It required too much effort that could be used for so many other pleasant emotions and tasks. Now he sat in the mess hall, feeling sulky and off-balance.
He hadn't even seen Ric since he had stormed off to the med bay, whining like a little bitch. So when he came through the door, right arm in a cast, and looking bruised to hell, his anger boiled over. Normally, he might have felt like comforting Ric, who looked somewhere between rather ruggedly handsome and incredibly idiotic with a black eye. Now, Mark felt he wanted to break his other arm, and maybe his head for good measure.
Mark tried not to say a single word, and failed miserably. As Ric passed by the table where he was sitting, he spat out, "What's the matter? The big bad scary feral beat you up and take your lunch money?"
He hadn't even seen Ric since he had stormed off to the med bay, whining like a little bitch. So when he came through the door, right arm in a cast, and looking bruised to hell, his anger boiled over. Normally, he might have felt like comforting Ric, who looked somewhere between rather ruggedly handsome and incredibly idiotic with a black eye. Now, Mark felt he wanted to break his other arm, and maybe his head for good measure.
Mark tried not to say a single word, and failed miserably. As Ric passed by the table where he was sitting, he spat out, "What's the matter? The big bad scary feral beat you up and take your lunch money?"