WHO: John Constantine [trenchcoatmagic ], and Zuko Flamey-O Emo Pants [vsrsbsns ] Where: The local jail DATE: September 19th WARNINGS: N/A SUMMARY: Zuko gets out early. BUT HOW? STATUS: Incomplete/Closed
I was humiliated. But more than that, I was ashamed. I was ashamed on almost every level it was possible to be ashamed, and I had thought that my banishment, my exile, my broken honor, had taught me everything there was to know about shame. But the pieces of a broken honor can be shattered still further, and I felt as though mine hadn't just been shattered. My honor had been ground down to powder, now, every pitiful grain of it escaping from between my fingers as I struggled to hold onto it.
I expected to see my uncle when the officer took me into the waiting area. Instead, I saw Constantine. My first reaction, predictably, was anger: what the hell was he doing here? But almost immediately, regret and gratitude tumbled over the anger. My uncle probably wasn't here because he couldn't afford to be, hadn't been able to raise the funds. Or maybe, and my stomach hurt at the thought but I raised my head a little, clear-eyed, my uncle had decided to hell with it after all, he wasn't going to bother with an irretrievably troublesome nephew any longer, and so Constantine had...
I don't know exactly, my invention failed me. I was hungry, and tired, and I stank, and I didn't want to be in this building a moment longer.
I bowed deeply to Constantine, a proper bow from the waist, for I certainly owed him for this, no matter what else happened. I held it for a respectful few seconds. I wondered if Constantine knew what a bow like this meant, if he cared, or if it would just be cause for some more secret Anglo hilarity, even if he did know. It didn't matter, though, I told myself.
"Thank you," I said as I straightened. I closed my eyes a moment in sheer sick weariness before I opened them once more and glanced at him. "We can go now?"
I expected to see my uncle when the officer took me into the waiting area. Instead, I saw Constantine. My first reaction, predictably, was anger: what the hell was he doing here? But almost immediately, regret and gratitude tumbled over the anger. My uncle probably wasn't here because he couldn't afford to be, hadn't been able to raise the funds. Or maybe, and my stomach hurt at the thought but I raised my head a little, clear-eyed, my uncle had decided to hell with it after all, he wasn't going to bother with an irretrievably troublesome nephew any longer, and so Constantine had...
I don't know exactly, my invention failed me. I was hungry, and tired, and I stank, and I didn't want to be in this building a moment longer.
I bowed deeply to Constantine, a proper bow from the waist, for I certainly owed him for this, no matter what else happened. I held it for a respectful few seconds. I wondered if Constantine knew what a bow like this meant, if he cared, or if it would just be cause for some more secret Anglo hilarity, even if he did know. It didn't matter, though, I told myself.
"Thank you," I said as I straightened. I closed my eyes a moment in sheer sick weariness before I opened them once more and glanced at him. "We can go now?"
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