played by
★Deimos
POSTS
154
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Revolutionist
call me Em/Emmy
Male
28 YEARS OLD
September
21
Virgo
New York
Bisexual (polyamorous)
Spy
TAG WITH @emilio
EMILIO OTA
So, collect your scars and wear 'em well: Your blood's as good an ink as any
[attr="class","ptext"] [attr="class","ptext1"]I feel too cold to live [attr="class","ptext2"]too young to die ▼ Emilio almost regretted. He almost regretted how quickly he'd let his fist fly, almost felt guilty in taking pleasure from the feeling of the man's nose breaking. Almost. The racial slurs the other man yelled at him quickly abolished even that "almost" and Emilio came at him again.
It was hard to not go all out, as his body urged him to do. He wanted to feel the man's skull break as he smashed it against the pavement or a wall, wanted to hear him scream in pain. It'd been so long since he'd been in a fight, he wanted to enjoy it. However, Emilio would rather not get arrested on suspicion of murder and the idea of Doctor X finding out about such an extreme loss of control honestly terrified him far more than any government-issued punishment did. He could probably get away from this fight with his life, though.
A lucky punch to his skull sent Emilio reeling, blinding spots painfully blooming and dancing across his vision. Another to his face and he felt his nose break and something cut his lip. Emilio ducked down on a guess and managed to evade a third punch, taking the opportunity to retreat a few feet. He continued to move back as his opponent advanced, buying time as his vision cleared. He paused, though, for just a beat. There were sirens rapidly approaching. Emilio didn't let the sound occupy him for long, though, and lunged at his opponent while he was still stunned. A punch to the gut and he doubled over. A sharp kick to the same location and he fell to his knees. Again, Emilio put space between him and the stranger and watched him carefully as he waited for the police to show up. It was probably in his best interest to stick around and let himself get caught than run off and make himself look guiltier than he already is. [newclass=.ptext]color: #a1a1a1;text-align: center;width:450px; height:45px;text-align:center;font-size:30px; font-family:georgia;line-height:40px!important;background-color:#171717;position:relative;z-index:1;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext1]color: #aiaiai;margin-top:0px;opacity:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext2]color: #a1a1a1;margin-top:-40px;opacity:0;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext:hover .ptext1]margin-top:-40px;opacity:0;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext:hover .ptext2]opacity:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
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no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
[attr="class","foreign"] It hadn't started off as that bad of a day, really. Things had been considerably calm and quiet, and he didn't have a busting headache, so that at least had to count for something. It probably had to do with the fact that he'd actually gotten sleep last night; no thanks to the near overdose of cold medicine he'd chugged down his gullet, but, hey, it was sleep all the same, right? That was really the only way he could get a full night's rest anymore. Trying to sleep on his own was like tackling a mission a person knew they were bound to fail. It was just a recipe for disaster.
The deceptive air of whatever peace had been floating about lifted with a familiar voice sounding down to his right. Something about how there was a public disturbance was brought to attention, and that there was already another officer there at the scene. He'd just arrived and needed some assistance, which was fine enough. It took only a few minutes for Elliott to reach the area, his car angling in next to his colleague's. From his seat, he could see the other cop hovering, waiting to go in, and as he stepped out, they fell into their typical routine.
"Hands up, turn around," he called to the one standing, a small brunet who looked to have taken a few hits to his face. The first cop went over to the one kneeling, starting up a round of questions and scanning the area with his eyes. Elliott did the same, reaching out for the smaller's hands as he did so, holding them in place as he told him to spread his legs. He asked him about having any weapons on his body, anything dangerous. It was all run-of-the-mill protocol, standard procedure that had his voice fairly bored sounding beneath the authoritative layer. His whiskey gaze cut over to his colleague, noting the affirmation to cuff him, so he pulled the brunet over to his car and did just that, droning off and asking the necessaries.
Guiding the petite frame into the backseat of his car, he left him there to go check out what was happening with the others. A mirthless smirk tugged one corner of his lips up and he went through the steps with the officer, coming to the conclusion that both men were worthy of being taken back to the station. It sounded like it was just some stupid squabble that'd flared tempers. No less, in what felt like zero time at all he was driving the man, whose name was Emilio he'd learned after inquiring, back to the headquarters. The injuries he'd sustained weren't enough to land him a trip to the hospital first, though they were enough to make Elliott's eyes linger on his face.
A shame he'd had to go and scuff up something so... potentially pretty. [newclass=.gold]background-color:#fff;padding:2px;border-left:#4795cc 10px solid;font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;color:#4795cc;width:120px;margin-top:10px;opacity:0;transition: 1s all;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .gold]opacity:1;transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [googlefont=La Belle Aurore]
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played by
★Deimos
POSTS
154
awards
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Revolutionist
call me Em/Emmy
Male
28 YEARS OLD
September
21
Virgo
New York
Bisexual (polyamorous)
Spy
TAG WITH @emilio
EMILIO OTA
So, collect your scars and wear 'em well: Your blood's as good an ink as any
[attr="class","ptext"] [attr="class","ptext1"]I feel too cold to live [attr="class","ptext2"]too young to die ▼ Emilio did as the officer asked, speaking when asked a question, giving minimal answers, and otherwise staying silent. His silence, however, didn't mean he was exactly calm. He was still angry, still kind of pissed, and he allowed his face to reflect that because it was the reasonable, expected thing to do. He sulked in the back of the patrol car, pressing himself back against the seat as the officer reached over and sloppily buckled him in. The cuffs bit into his wrists and dug into his back, his spine, but if Emilio tolerated it for the sake of keeping a little more of his personal space, well, personal. He relaxed a little more after he was left alone in the back, the officer sliding into the driver's seat and turning the car on.
As they drove over a speed bump, Emilio's seat belt came undone, apparently never having been properly fastened. "Nice job buckling me in, officer." He sneered as he shrugged the seat belt off. With his newfound freedom, he twisted around to sit at an angle, allowing him to lean against the back of the seat with his shoulder and not his back. The cuffs didn't bite into his flesh as much now, but his wrists still hurt. Any requests or orders from the officer to sit properly were completely ignored. Emilio wondered if that was why the officer suddenly began making sharper turns and breaking harder. The movement made him nauseous and his head spin horribly. He stumbled as he was pulled out of the car and escorted into the station and shoved into a holding cell. As soon as his cuffs were removed he laid down on the bench and waited for his world to stop spinning.
"Hey," He asked after several minutes, although he didn't sit up, "can I get an ice pack? I need to set my nose."
[newclass=.ptext]color: #a1a1a1;text-align: center;width:450px; height:45px;text-align:center;font-size:30px; font-family:georgia;line-height:40px!important;background-color:#171717;position:relative;z-index:1;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext1]color: #aiaiai;margin-top:0px;opacity:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext2]color: #a1a1a1;margin-top:-40px;opacity:0;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext:hover .ptext1]margin-top:-40px;opacity:0;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext:hover .ptext2]opacity:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
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no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
[attr="class","foreign"] Talk about resting bitch face. This guy had it good. Or maybe he really was just super fucking pissed, which Elliott wouldn't blame him for, seeing as to what he'd just come out of. His nose looked pretty busted, and there were some considerable spots of color beginning to blossom out over his skin now. Yeah, he was going to be feeling that for a while. Elliott casually kept glancing back at him in the rearview mirror, both out of habit and a slight hint of interest. Of course, he couldn't stop his smirk at hearing the seatbelt pop undone behind him, and he just shrugged a shoulder in response to the smaller's remark, not gracing him with an actual response. So it may've come undone... at least he'd thought to try to buckle him in. It was the thought that counted, yeah?
After purposefully making the ride a lot bumpier than it needed to be, the redhead pulled into the station's lot, parking in his typical space. He got out of his car and dragged the brunet out next, guiding him along with a hand on his shoulder to keep him stable, while the other remained at his cuffed hands. It was clear that this guy was a feeling a bit off at the moment, and Elliott really didn't feel like having to bend over to haul his ass back up. They walked their way to one of the cells in the station, where he pushed him in after freeing his hands up. His intent was to leave him to his own business after that, but after locking the door his eyes were drawn back upwards, landing on the figure that was now horizontal on the stiff bench.
Lifting an eyebrow, he listened to Emilio's request. Figuring that wasn't such a bad idea, he turned away without giving an actual answer, going to find something to appease his charge. After finding a soft, pliable ice pack, he started on his way back, noticing the cop from earlier coming in with the other man. By the way he was walking, Elliott knew he'd gotten hit in a few ginger places, and he laughed a little under his breath as he continued heading over to the cell. Looked like the little guy had some fire in him. Upon reaching his designation, he tossed the ice pack through the bars, landing it near the other's legs. "There you go, princess," he quipped, crossing his arms over his chest as he minutely narrowed his eyes at him. "After you get done with that, you're allowed one call. Take it or leave it." [newclass=.gold]background-color:#fff;padding:2px;border-left:#4795cc 10px solid;font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;color:#4795cc;width:120px;margin-top:10px;opacity:0;transition: 1s all;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .gold]opacity:1;transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [googlefont=La Belle Aurore]
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played by
★Deimos
POSTS
154
awards
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Revolutionist
call me Em/Emmy
Male
28 YEARS OLD
September
21
Virgo
New York
Bisexual (polyamorous)
Spy
TAG WITH @emilio
EMILIO OTA
So, collect your scars and wear 'em well: Your blood's as good an ink as any
[attr="class","ptext"] [attr="class","ptext1"]I feel too cold to live [attr="class","ptext2"]too young to die ▼ Emilio ignored the officer for now. Being called 'princess' was hardly worth acknowledging, really. Slowly, he sat up and grabbed the pack of ice off the floor and pressed it against his face. The cold would reduce swelling and numb the area with cold, ideally making it hurt less when he set his nose. After five or so minutes, it seemed that that was as numb as his face was going to get, so he set the ice pack next to him. He put a hand on each side of his nose and went about resetting. He shuddered and his face twisted in pain and the second he was done and shoved the ice pack back on his nose and rubbed the hints of tears from his eyes. He wasn't actually sure if it was straight or not, seeing as he couldn't do it in front of a mirror, but he knew that, at the very least, it was less crooked now. He'd probably have to get Morgan to straighten it the rest of the way later.
"I'll take that call." Emilio's nose throbbed painfully, but he worried that the officer wouldn't let him take it later. He tilted his head back, allowing the ice pack to stay on his face without assistance, and shoved his hands through the opening in the bars. When they were cuffed, he lowered his head and held the ice with his hands again. Quietly, he allowed himself to be escorted to the phone.
He held the handset to his ear with his shoulder, using his hands to keep the ice on his face. He clicked his tongue when Morgan didn't answer. "Mi amor, it's Emmy, I guess you're at work. I got in a fight and I'm sitting at the police station." He spoke quickly, unsure of how long the voicemail could be, "So if you could come pick me up when you get the chance, that'd be fantastic. I'll talk to you—" He hissed as it beeped at him, telling him his time was up. He pulled the ice pack off his face and grabbed the handset from between his head and shoulder and hung it up. Emilio didn't really like the idea of being here for longer than necessary, but if Morgan was working, meaning his was torturing information out of someone, Emilio couldn't exactly expect an immediate rescue. He would come eventually, though, assuming he hadn't gone off and died somewhere. He returned to the holding cell slightly more irritated.
"Any chance I can get my DS back?" He asked the officer, although he expected a firm no. What was he going to do with a DS other than play it, though? He could only contact the outside world if the station had wifi, which it probably didn't, and it wasn't like it was any sort of suicide risk. Sure he could try to throw it between the bars but the chance of that succeeding and hitting someone were incredibly low. [newclass=.ptext]color: #a1a1a1;text-align: center;width:450px; height:45px;text-align:center;font-size:30px; font-family:georgia;line-height:40px!important;background-color:#171717;position:relative;z-index:1;overflow:hidden;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext1]color: #aiaiai;margin-top:0px;opacity:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext2]color: #a1a1a1;margin-top:-40px;opacity:0;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext:hover .ptext1]margin-top:-40px;opacity:0;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass] [newclass=.ptext:hover .ptext2]opacity:1;-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;transition-duration:.4s;-moz-transition-duration:.4s;[/newclass]
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[attr="class","foreign"] With keen eyes, Elliott watched the small brunet reach for the ice pack he'd tossed. His nose was only going to get more swollen the longer he waited, ice or no, and honestly the officer should've offered him some sort of assistance in setting the injury, but he remained silent on the other side of the bars. He watched him for a while longer, arms crossed over his chest and weight casually centered on one foot. A minute in and he started getting bored, however, and he turned away to rifle through the contents he'd plucked from Emilio's pockets. Some keys, his phone, and a DS, of all things. His lips quirked up in a brief twitch of amusement, eyes glinting as he turned the device in his hand, popping out the game. Japanese was plastered over the tiny card and he didn't understand a single piece of it, but he mentally shrugged it off anyways and loaded it back in, turning as he heard Emilio's voice drift over his way.
Walking back over to his cell, DS shoved unceremoniously into his back pocket, the taller motioned for Emilio's hands with the curl of a single finger. As he cuffed his wrists back together, he allowed himself a moment to inspect the other's face. There was a glossiness in Emilio's eyes that gave away the setting of his nose, lingering hints of unshed tears. Elliott bit back his smirk and unlocked the cell, reaching in to land his fingers on a slighter shoulder than his own. Yet, despite the obvious size difference, he could feel the muscles hiding beneath layers of fabric. Of course, Emilio had already proven his strength. The other guy was probably still groaning to himself.
The trip to the phone was a short one, and although he turned his head after handing Emilio the receiver, not even offering to hold his ice for him, he very much listened in on the conversation. It sounded like the smaller had some shitty luck, ending up getting whoever it was he'd called's -- his amor's -- voicemail. For some reason, this only served to entertain the redhead even more, and while Emilio walked back with obvious displeasure on his face, there was something of a bounce in Elliott's step. Perhaps it was just his enjoyment of witnessing the misfortune of others. Whatever it was, it clearly lightened his mood, and he swiftly set about depositing Emilio back into his momentary cage as soon as they got back, his treatment no different towards him from when he'd first brought him in.
Again, Emilio's voice stopped him from truly leaving him to his own business, and Elliott's eyebrows lifted with the realization that he still had the DS in his pocket. Turning a charming, yet clearly mocking, smile onto the shorter, he shook his head and reached behind himself, taking it into his hand. "No, but thanks for reminding me about it." His amber eyes skirted around for a second, and figuring he had a few moments to spare, he dragged a chair over from the nearby desk, plopping down and stretching his legs out in front of himself. Ankles crossed, he turned the DS on, gaze cutting over to Emilio. "So what is this? Some weird, uhh, hentai game or something? Probably. You look like the type." He smiled again and looked back down, settling himself more comfortably into the stiff frame of the chair. As soon as the main menu opened up, he hesitated, clearly unknowing of what anything meant. But, being the risk taker he was, he tapped on the first option and readied himself for whatever the hell this game was. [newclass=.gold]background-color:#fff;padding:2px;border-left:#4795cc 10px solid;font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;color:#4795cc;width:120px;margin-top:10px;opacity:0;transition: 1s all;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .gold]opacity:1;transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [googlefont=La Belle Aurore]
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played by
★Deimos
POSTS
154
awards
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Revolutionist
call me Em/Emmy
Male
28 YEARS OLD
September
21
Virgo
New York
Bisexual (polyamorous)
Spy
TAG WITH @emilio
EMILIO OTA
So, collect your scars and wear 'em well: Your blood's as good an ink as any
[attr="class","post_box"] [attr="class","tetbox"] [attr="class","intext"]Emilio lowered the ice pack long enough to look at the officer, spot the DS, and make a disgusted face at him, as if he was tainting it by touching it. He made a displeased noise and turned, sitting back down on the bench and returning the ice to his nose. "There are no adult rated DS games, officer. Plus the Japanese sex-related industries consist primarily of fetishizing little girls and boys." Even the adult women in the the industry had very childlike personalities. Emilio found it all to be rather disgusting. The LGBT side of the industry wasn't exactly much better, either.
While the officer rudely played with his DS, Emilio took some slight satisfaction in the idea of the officer struggling horribly with playing Fire Emblem in Japanese. While he waited for the officer to become frustrated with the game, he took of his jacket and turned it into a makeshift pillow. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but this was he didn't have to hold the ice to his face. Although, when he laid down he moved to ice from his nose to where he'd been hit on the side of his head. The area still hurt, as did the rest of his head, really. At least his vision was mostly better. It hurt to look at bright lights (and of course the station consisted mostly of bright fucking lights) and move his head too fast, but other than that he thought he was okay. For a moment, he thought about seeing a doctor after all this, but decided that he would come up with an answer later.
"So, officer, how does this work? I can't imagine that I just sit here and go home once my friend gets here." Emilio had never actually been arrested before, so this was all rather new to him, "Will you question me? It's all rather cut and dry. The guy was a bigot and a racist asshole so I hit him." Would there be a trial? Emilio hoped there wouldn't be. Trials sounded like a lot of sitting there bored as fuck and not allowed to play his DS. He'd be happy enough having to pay some fine, although like hell was he going to pay the guy's medical bills. |
[attr="class","image_box"] [attr="class","image_box_2"] [attr="class","tagyou"]I'LL RUIN YOU [attr="class","tagyou2"]@elliott |
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[attr="class","foreign"] Yeah, okay, he didn't have a clue what was going on in this game. Not a single part of it was clear to him, nor familiar, but he didn't play many games like this in the first place to really be able to recognize elements. Shrugging a shoulder in response to the information he was being told, he gave a distracted, "You'd know," trying to figure out what he was doing. He had a feeling it'd probably entertain the other to see him struggling with it, so he did his best to keep his expression mild and impassive, despite the very obvious concentration he had on the screens. A few moments passed where all was quiet, particularly so from his side of the bars, but he could hear some shuffling around happening inside of the cell. Most likely the other man getting himself more comfortable, though his luck of achieving that had to be pretty low on that pain-in-the-ass bench.
Still having a terribly hard time with this stupid, foreign game that was for complete and utter losers, Elliott bit back an irked sigh and started to just fiddle around with everything. He may've been screwing things over -- he honestly had no clue if he was even making an impact on this, but he really hoped he was fucking up Emilio's stats -- but in the end he just didn't know what was going on. This paralleled with a lot of situations he underwent just in basic life. But, before his mind could go down that road, his attention was again stolen by the smaller and he lifted his eyes up to him, making a show of appearing annoyed that he'd been interrupted, though truthfully he was almost relieved to have been given a reason to ignore the game. Sighing as if having to answer him was like the biggest chore of his life, Elliott snapped the DS shut and shook his head.
"It depends. You might get to leave with your buddy, but I'm still waiting for word on what to do with you. You beat that guy's ass, so if I were you I'd be expecting a court visit sometime soon." His warmly hued eyes rolled as he listened to what else Emilio had to say, and he leaned forward in his seat, an unimpressed look on his face. "Listen, I really don't care, and you should seriously just shut up about it. Save it for later." He stood from his chair and rolled his shoulders back, stretching his spine for a second before walking away to put the DS back with the rest of Emilio's stuff. Returning so he could retrieve the bland piece of furniture, he paused beside it for a second, resting his weight on a foot and supporting himself with his hand on its frame. "I can get you something for your nose, if you want." Another shrug lifted his shoulder and he started to drag the chair away. "Up to you." [newclass=.gold]background-color:#fff;padding:2px;border-left:#4795cc 10px solid;font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;color:#4795cc;width:120px;margin-top:10px;opacity:0;transition: 1s all;text-align:left;[/newclass] [newclass=.dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(1); filter: grayscale(1);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .dust]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .gold]opacity:1;transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [newclass=.foreign:hover .sun]-webkit-filter: grayscale(0); filter: grayscale(0);transition: 1s all;[/newclass] [googlefont=La Belle Aurore]
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played by
★Deimos
POSTS
154
awards
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Revolutionist
call me Em/Emmy
Male
28 YEARS OLD
September
21
Virgo
New York
Bisexual (polyamorous)
Spy
TAG WITH @emilio
EMILIO OTA
So, collect your scars and wear 'em well: Your blood's as good an ink as any
[attr="class","post_box"] [attr="class","tetbox"] [attr="class","intext"]Ugh, so there was a definite possibility of a trial. Great. Emilio was beginning to regret attacking the man. Not because he'd hurt him, no, but because this was turning out to be quite a bit of trouble. He should've controlled himself, he could've controlled himself. He'd been doing it most of his life, after all. Should've kept on walking instead of stopping and picking a fight. The regret, or rather the uncertainty of Doctor X's reaction to all this, pulled at his gut and pulled his thoughts down. He caught himself, though, caught himself falling down that road of racing, worst-case-scenario thoughts and stopped. He told himself it was unlikely Doctor X would kill him for this. That he'd done a good job so far and provided good information. He told himself that it was just an assault charge, not even an aggravated one. They'd probably offer a deal to save everyone time and money. The most realistic punishments he was looking at was having to pay for the asshole's medical bills and spend time on probation. Ugh, that would be a pain and would certainly make work more difficult. Surely, he'd find a way, though. He always found a way, always managed.
The offer the officer extended was a bit unexpected. The man hadn't exactly been the nicest guy to him thus far, between the half-assed attempt to buckle him in, the reckless driving after Emilio made a smart quip, and rudely playing his DS. He had, at least, given him the ice pack. He got points for that. He'd get another few if his offer wasn't some kind of joke. "Tylenol would help. Not ibuprofen, though." He highly doubted he had a concussion, but he'd still been hit in the head pretty far and ibuprofen could increase the chance of bleeding. He'd rather not die of brain hemorrhaging today.
He got up and waited by the bars as Elliott walked off, found some tylenol in a desk (was it even his desk?) and returned, dropping it into Emilio's hand. "Thanks." He murmured before popping them into his mouth and swallowing them. They were small enough that we could take them without water well enough. He returned to the bench and grabbed the ice pack off of it, dropping it to the ground. He wiped up the condensation from the ice with his jacket and laid down again. Might as well take a nap until they needed him. Better than being bored out of his fucking mind. |
[attr="class","image_box"] [attr="class","image_box_2"] [attr="class","tagyou"]I'LL RUIN YOU [attr="class","tagyou2"]@elliott |
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