1st Case ~ Ten Forward
2015-Sep-15, Tuesday 09:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dinosheriffJim stops in his tracks, confused…
He waits there for a long moment, listening, frowning under the black fabric cover over his head. His wrists were still bound with cable ties, and his ribs hurt like hell… A couple were fractured, definitely. He could feel one pressing against his lung as he breathes in, wincing slightly with each breath. An automatic reaction. Normally he wouldn’t like to show any weakness in front of Mira and her Sixers, but… this he can’t help.
…Speaking of Sixers, he’s been stopped for a while. If he wasn’t going the pace his Sixer escorts liked, he’d get jabbed in the shoulder with a sonic rifle… At least, that was how it was when they found him. Maybe they were where they wanted him to be?
It didn’t explain the strange noises he was hearing…
Shifting, wincing again, Jim raises his arms, hesitantly. When there was no immediate backlash, he hooks his thumbs under the lip of the fabric bag covering his head and moves to remove it.
To the occupants of Ten Forward, seeing a man remove a sack from his head whilst his hands are tied may be slightly amusing. The rumble of light chatter in the lounge has died down as more people notice the scruffy, dishevelled man, who looks like he’s just been released from prison.
A young Tellarite ensign stands, walking over to Jim, frowning slightly. “Excuse me, sir… Do you need assistance?”
At the words, Jim freezes. He’s not alone, obviously, but that wasn’t something a Sixer would ask. Was he back at Terra Nova? Probably not. He would have had the bag removed and ushered straight to Taylor for a scolding once they noticed it was him. Shifting a bit, he shrugs slightly.
“No, no… It’s fine. I got it.” And he does. He manages to shove off the sack, it falling to the floor behind him… And then he double-takes, stepping back, as he sees the Tellarite standing in front of him.
“Woah-!” A pause, there, as he considers who, or what, is standing there. “S-Sorry.” He manages to blurt out, as the Ensign inclines his head.
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ve had worse reactions from humans. Do you need any more assistance?” He sounds concerned about Jim’s well-being, at the very least… his mental health at worst… At least, that was the impression Jim got.
“No… I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit disorientated. Thank you.” The Tellarite nods and moves on, back to his table, as Jim looks around the lounge, frowning.
“Now… where the hell am I this time?” He mumbles to himself, working to strip his hands of his zipties. Once free, a hand instantly goes to his ribs, tenderly patting at them, wincing. "Definitely broken."
He waits there for a long moment, listening, frowning under the black fabric cover over his head. His wrists were still bound with cable ties, and his ribs hurt like hell… A couple were fractured, definitely. He could feel one pressing against his lung as he breathes in, wincing slightly with each breath. An automatic reaction. Normally he wouldn’t like to show any weakness in front of Mira and her Sixers, but… this he can’t help.
…Speaking of Sixers, he’s been stopped for a while. If he wasn’t going the pace his Sixer escorts liked, he’d get jabbed in the shoulder with a sonic rifle… At least, that was how it was when they found him. Maybe they were where they wanted him to be?
It didn’t explain the strange noises he was hearing…
Shifting, wincing again, Jim raises his arms, hesitantly. When there was no immediate backlash, he hooks his thumbs under the lip of the fabric bag covering his head and moves to remove it.
To the occupants of Ten Forward, seeing a man remove a sack from his head whilst his hands are tied may be slightly amusing. The rumble of light chatter in the lounge has died down as more people notice the scruffy, dishevelled man, who looks like he’s just been released from prison.
A young Tellarite ensign stands, walking over to Jim, frowning slightly. “Excuse me, sir… Do you need assistance?”
At the words, Jim freezes. He’s not alone, obviously, but that wasn’t something a Sixer would ask. Was he back at Terra Nova? Probably not. He would have had the bag removed and ushered straight to Taylor for a scolding once they noticed it was him. Shifting a bit, he shrugs slightly.
“No, no… It’s fine. I got it.” And he does. He manages to shove off the sack, it falling to the floor behind him… And then he double-takes, stepping back, as he sees the Tellarite standing in front of him.
“Woah-!” A pause, there, as he considers who, or what, is standing there. “S-Sorry.” He manages to blurt out, as the Ensign inclines his head.
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ve had worse reactions from humans. Do you need any more assistance?” He sounds concerned about Jim’s well-being, at the very least… his mental health at worst… At least, that was the impression Jim got.
“No… I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit disorientated. Thank you.” The Tellarite nods and moves on, back to his table, as Jim looks around the lounge, frowning.
“Now… where the hell am I this time?” He mumbles to himself, working to strip his hands of his zipties. Once free, a hand instantly goes to his ribs, tenderly patting at them, wincing. "Definitely broken."