Nell attempted to engage in conversation. "Thank you for sewing up my arm."
The person's head turned slightly to better look at the girl, and then went back, indifferently, to its original position.
"You're just going to ignore me?" she huffed, although being ignored was far from the worst thing he could have done to her. When she finished her question, she thought she saw a nearly imperceptible nod from the figure. It could have been her imagination, but she wanted to believe it wasn't.
She looked at her bare arm. Her jumpsuit had been unzipped down to her waist and bad arm had been taken out of its sleeve for stitches. Her other arm was still dressed up, and she looked like she'd started to undress and had then forgotten all about it. Her nose scrunched up when she looked at herself. She got her bad arm moving and put it in the loose sleeve, only to realize with distaste that there was a huge hole in the fabric--no, two--one in, one out. The bullet had not done the same to her arm, but had grazed the outside of her arm and torn it open.
She said, aloud, "Fuck it," and didn't bother putting her arm in. She slipped out of the other sleeve and tied them both around her abdomen, using the hand on her good arm for most of the tying. Her old injuries made her stiff and sore, but the new one burned.
----------
Derek walked lazily. It was almost three in the morning, but it wasn't completely dark. He much preferred to work during the nighttime, and didn't like it when everything wasn't on his terms. He also didn't like traveling with the laser gun. While it was perfectly safe and tucked away and while he had requested it specifically, the weapon had always made Derek uncomfortable. He was a powerhouse of destruction, and the idea of having a hand-sized invention that could compete with him did not sit well.
The person's head turned slightly to better look at the girl, and then went back, indifferently, to its original position.
"You're just going to ignore me?" she huffed, although being ignored was far from the worst thing he could have done to her. When she finished her question, she thought she saw a nearly imperceptible nod from the figure. It could have been her imagination, but she wanted to believe it wasn't.
She looked at her bare arm. Her jumpsuit had been unzipped down to her waist and bad arm had been taken out of its sleeve for stitches. Her other arm was still dressed up, and she looked like she'd started to undress and had then forgotten all about it. Her nose scrunched up when she looked at herself. She got her bad arm moving and put it in the loose sleeve, only to realize with distaste that there was a huge hole in the fabric--no, two--one in, one out. The bullet had not done the same to her arm, but had grazed the outside of her arm and torn it open.
She said, aloud, "Fuck it," and didn't bother putting her arm in. She slipped out of the other sleeve and tied them both around her abdomen, using the hand on her good arm for most of the tying. Her old injuries made her stiff and sore, but the new one burned.
----------
Derek walked lazily. It was almost three in the morning, but it wasn't completely dark. He much preferred to work during the nighttime, and didn't like it when everything wasn't on his terms. He also didn't like traveling with the laser gun. While it was perfectly safe and tucked away and while he had requested it specifically, the weapon had always made Derek uncomfortable. He was a powerhouse of destruction, and the idea of having a hand-sized invention that could compete with him did not sit well.
