Yeah, yeah. I guess it was me that fucked up, after all.
[ ash toys with the idea of asking for a cigarette, she'd given up the remainder of what she had left in the interest of that useless bag lead, but honestly she's not up for another fight right away. maybe when she's in better shape, or more pissed off. the worst of her anger has bled away along with her nose, and now mostly all that remains is a bone deep tiredness.
there are--options, at least options that don't involve saber and whatever he's going to demand of her in return, but truth be told this job was sloppier than she'd like, and maybe part of her thinks that she deserves whatever recompense he'll slap her with. ]
[he loves a good surrender. he tips his head, gaze shifting toward his bed.]
If you can get the milk. [he knows she will (and also find her bag), which is why he's already rummaging around his room. stuffing his phone into his back pocket, rustling through clothing and drawers while muttering to himself: 'where did i put it? oh yeah'] Meet you in the bathroom.
[off he goes to the master bath after snatching up spare clothes for her, setting up an array of tools and bandages on the counter.]
[ ash steps away from the door, but she waits until he has left the room to do anything else, mostly because she wants the privacy of the space to be able to gingerly touch her nose and let a string of muttered curses out. it fucking hurts actually, a lot. she might have gotten used to taking a beating when the situation demanded it, but that doesn't ean she feels the pain any less, just that she's gotten better at tolerating it.
besides, it's very undignified the way that she has to scrabble under the bed, and not the sort of thing that she wants anyone to bear witness to, as she shuffles her torso under, supported on her good arm, and then has to promptly flatten out onto her stomach and slide back out, the other one useless for any kind of support. there's also the matter of the way that her head bangs up against the underside of the frame when she sees the bag, paired with another string of curses.
all in all, better that she wasn't witnessed.
the bag is slung over her shoulder when she gets to the bathroom, no effort ade to hide her pissy little scowl, but she just sets it down--carefully-- on the floor before she comes to stand in front of the sink, leaning a hip back against it and staring at him. ]
You're so fucking annoying, you know that? Like I really, really want you to know that.
[he mock-whines at her insult, hands already the hem of her shirt to help lift it up and off of her. for hands meant for brutality, they're surprisingly delicate when they want to be, making ginger movements to get her arm out of the sleeve without adding any more pain. he treats her as a mannequin to be dressed, no wandering eyes or hidden intentions. his spare shirt is pulled over her, then his attention is directed to her wrist.
any joking or attitude disappears while he hones in on the repairs. cigarette between his teeth, he'll instruct her to tap it into the sink every now and then and return it to his mouth while he works. he cleans any broken skin, wraps and adds a splint to her wrist.]
Do you know what would have been really useful to have had today, actually?
[ she says it conversationally, voice such a good approximation of friendly banter that it would fool most. probably not saber, he's known ash for too long for pretences to come across as anything other than what they are at this point, but she still makes a point not to sound angry.
this time when she taps the cigarette for him she holds onto it afterwards, taking a drag of her own, and she doesn't place it back right away. a particularly tight tug of the bandage wrapping around her wrist makes her wince, but she blinks it off, exhaling smoke upwards, and she's not trying to blow it in his face, but she's not avoiding it either. ]
[he pauses for half a second, processing. then he finishes wrapping her up, taking a too-long piece of tape to seal everything together. had he accidentally caused more of a problem than he needed without trying?]
Whoops. [he feigns an apologetic smile, holding back a laugh.] Label your shit.
[because it's her fault, and now if anything is labeled, he can fuck around with it on purpose.]
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no subject
[ ash toys with the idea of asking for a cigarette, she'd given up the remainder of what she had left in the interest of that useless bag lead, but honestly she's not up for another fight right away. maybe when she's in better shape, or more pissed off. the worst of her anger has bled away along with her nose, and now mostly all that remains is a bone deep tiredness.
there are--options, at least options that don't involve saber and whatever he's going to demand of her in return, but truth be told this job was sloppier than she'd like, and maybe part of her thinks that she deserves whatever recompense he'll slap her with. ]
So will you fix me up?
no subject
If you can get the milk. [he knows she will (and also find her bag), which is why he's already rummaging around his room. stuffing his phone into his back pocket, rustling through clothing and drawers while muttering to himself: 'where did i put it? oh yeah'] Meet you in the bathroom.
[off he goes to the master bath after snatching up spare clothes for her, setting up an array of tools and bandages on the counter.]
no subject
besides, it's very undignified the way that she has to scrabble under the bed, and not the sort of thing that she wants anyone to bear witness to, as she shuffles her torso under, supported on her good arm, and then has to promptly flatten out onto her stomach and slide back out, the other one useless for any kind of support. there's also the matter of the way that her head bangs up against the underside of the frame when she sees the bag, paired with another string of curses.
all in all, better that she wasn't witnessed.
the bag is slung over her shoulder when she gets to the bathroom, no effort ade to hide her pissy little scowl, but she just sets it down--carefully-- on the floor before she comes to stand in front of the sink, leaning a hip back against it and staring at him. ]
You're so fucking annoying, you know that? Like I really, really want you to know that.
no subject
[he mock-whines at her insult, hands already the hem of her shirt to help lift it up and off of her. for hands meant for brutality, they're surprisingly delicate when they want to be, making ginger movements to get her arm out of the sleeve without adding any more pain. he treats her as a mannequin to be dressed, no wandering eyes or hidden intentions. his spare shirt is pulled over her, then his attention is directed to her wrist.
any joking or attitude disappears while he hones in on the repairs. cigarette between his teeth, he'll instruct her to tap it into the sink every now and then and return it to his mouth while he works. he cleans any broken skin, wraps and adds a splint to her wrist.]
One more minute, almost done.
no subject
[ she says it conversationally, voice such a good approximation of friendly banter that it would fool most. probably not saber, he's known ash for too long for pretences to come across as anything other than what they are at this point, but she still makes a point not to sound angry.
this time when she taps the cigarette for him she holds onto it afterwards, taking a drag of her own, and she doesn't place it back right away. a particularly tight tug of the bandage wrapping around her wrist makes her wince, but she blinks it off, exhaling smoke upwards, and she's not trying to blow it in his face, but she's not avoiding it either. ]
Fucking explosives.
no subject
Whoops. [he feigns an apologetic smile, holding back a laugh.] Label your shit.
[because it's her fault, and now if anything is labeled, he can fuck around with it on purpose.]