Sleep was out of the question. He tried. Tried, because there was no one left to drug him if he failed, but his sleep was spotty even still, and sleeping in after daylight simply wasn't going to happen. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else he could find for himself to do. Training became somewhat more difficult with only one arm to use.
Running didn't help to take his mind off things, but it did take time up, so he ran. Ran, despite the pain of his lingering injuries, and whatever the movement might be doing to his arm. He only slowed when he spotted a familiar face he had anything to say to.
The sight of the injured lieutenant, and her reaction to whatever it was in her hand, was enough to stop him, at least for a short while. "There a problem, Lieutenant?"
She looked up, almost relieved that it was Mitchell and she wouldn't have to explain herself.
"Nothing that anyone could do anything about it." she sounded weary, despite herself. "It's a book of tournament results.." Sonya looked back to the red crossed names. "that are a bit one-sided."
She frowned, looking back at his arm. "You were involved in the 'showdown' a few weeks ago, too."
"No need to apologise," Harry said with a grin. He might've been old-fashioned by the island's general standards, but he wasn't a prude, and certainly not about swearing.
He'd just finished fixing up lunch in the Compound kitchen and came out, sandwich in hand, when he saw Sonya and came up to say hi. She didn't look all that happy, and although he was sometimes slow to make connections, he had just the slightest inkling it might have something to do with the big book in her lap.
The smile she gave him wasn't so much a happy or sad one, but the kind one gives when they've been kicked around for so long, what's another blow or two. Still, she was glad he was around.
Sonya wasn't sure how to respond, so with some hesitance, she just gave him the book. "A chronical of a long standing tournament." She tried to keep her voice steady, but it sounded far away. "My granddad participated, my great uncle..maybe farther than that-not sure." She paused. "Red means the person was killed."
If he were to have opened it to the last few pages-the last 'official' tournament-he would've found that Sonya had also participated, but was one of the too few survivors.
"A tournament?" Harry said, flicking through the pages. They didn't really do anything to make him any less confused - just lists of names and results. "Like, with knights and lances and things?" That was the only sort of tournament he'd ever heard of; somehow, though, the image of Sonya in a suit of armour didn't seem quite right.
She shook her head. "A free style martial arts tournament." again her voice was far off. "Two fighters, three rounds, no outside weapons..." she paused. Even now it was hard to talk about such things, but she figured she'd owed it to someone who probably went through worse. "whoever won two out of three, or the other couldn't continue, the winner was encourage to 'kill off' the looser."
Good lord, she couldn't believe she was actually telling someone this. So far, only her therapist and Joe knew this much-Joe was gone and with her therapist it was only professional.
Comments 38
Running didn't help to take his mind off things, but it did take time up, so he ran. Ran, despite the pain of his lingering injuries, and whatever the movement might be doing to his arm. He only slowed when he spotted a familiar face he had anything to say to.
The sight of the injured lieutenant, and her reaction to whatever it was in her hand, was enough to stop him, at least for a short while. "There a problem, Lieutenant?"
Reply
"Nothing that anyone could do anything about it." she sounded weary, despite herself. "It's a book of tournament results.." Sonya looked back to the red crossed names. "that are a bit one-sided."
She frowned, looking back at his arm. "You were involved in the 'showdown' a few weeks ago, too."
Reply
He frowned down at the book a few moments, before turning his attention to the woman and her own sling. "I hear so were you."
Reply
She already lived through it, she could joke about the attack-on herself anyway.
"What's your story?"
Reply
He'd just finished fixing up lunch in the Compound kitchen and came out, sandwich in hand, when he saw Sonya and came up to say hi. She didn't look all that happy, and although he was sometimes slow to make connections, he had just the slightest inkling it might have something to do with the big book in her lap.
He sat down beside her on the ground.
"What's up?"
Reply
Sonya wasn't sure how to respond, so with some hesitance, she just gave him the book. "A chronical of a long standing tournament." She tried to keep her voice steady, but it sounded far away. "My granddad participated, my great uncle..maybe farther than that-not sure." She paused. "Red means the person was killed."
If he were to have opened it to the last few pages-the last 'official' tournament-he would've found that Sonya had also participated, but was one of the too few survivors.
Reply
Reply
Good lord, she couldn't believe she was actually telling someone this. So far, only her therapist and Joe knew this much-Joe was gone and with her therapist it was only professional.
Reply
Leave a comment