[currently holed up in his room having taken Vicodin given to him by caniblholocaust and trying to sleep off the effects of being dead on his prosthetic arm. Whoever is in charge of the respawn point does terrible microsurgery.]
[Is slouched down in one of the plush chairs in a dark corner of the room. He is dressed in pajama pants and tank top. One of his feet is propped up on the coffee table. His false arm rests on the arm of the chair and his right hand is resting on the plate embedded into his chest. His head rests against the back of the chair and a blanket haphazardly covers his large frame. He is clearly in pain. Artificial light from the doorway into his office floods his private room where Trueman stands opposite of his little nest.
He opens his eyes, annoyed by the interruption. He lifts his head and it takes him a moment to focus because of his drugged state] Trueman? What brings you here?
[grins and lays back down against the chair] I wouldn't trust myself to. What I got from Bakura...it's much different from what I'm used to in my world. [laughs a little, pressing the right side of his face into the chair] That is assuming he gave me hydrocodone at all...
...
[looks at Trueman, his face suddenly composed] If you wish to speak to me, it would be shameful for me to lie about. [moves his right hand, reveling a blood-soaked towel pressed against his shoulder and gestures to the chair opposite him] Please have a seat and tell me what's on your mind.
Comments 23
...Rex?
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He opens his eyes, annoyed by the interruption. He lifts his head and it takes him a moment to focus because of his drugged state] Trueman? What brings you here?
Reply
. . .
. . . . . .
I desired a moment of your time, as to speak with you about...
Specific matters.
. . .
Perhaps you should lay down? The warm, plush confides of a bed surely trump that offered by the chair which you currently reside in...
. . .
Can... You walk without hindrance?
. . .
W-Would you like me to carry you to the bed, Rex? I-I swear to you; I shall be very, very gentle with your form...
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...
[looks at Trueman, his face suddenly composed] If you wish to speak to me, it would be shameful for me to lie about. [moves his right hand, reveling a blood-soaked towel pressed against his shoulder and gestures to the chair opposite him] Please have a seat and tell me what's on your mind.
Reply
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