Post by White Mimic on Sept 29, 2011 16:42:48 GMT -5
Having only eaten a little bit last night and deciding against engaging in the decadence of fine wine (he assumed, for all he knew it was watered down), Demetri laid awake on the mat in the tent that was set aside for him. The night wasn’t an easy one, no matter how he tried to lay himself, it hurt his sides to breathe let alone adjust his posture to the sleeping mat. His bruises had healed quite a bit during the night, now merely a sickening green as opposed to the violent blue they had been when he acquired them. There were still splotches of dark color on the bruises but it seemed he hadn’t been hit hard enough for it to be a serious health risk and the contusions nonetheless seemed to heal quickly. It still hurt like hell when he touched them though.
In the corner of the tent, his suit was neatly folded on the ground, still covered in dust and filth from yesterday. It was dry clean only and it was the only clothes he brought with him. Even now, his sleeping clothes were only comprised of the white shirt he wore under his dress shirt and the light grey boxer-briefs he normally wore. With the day already underway, he had removed his bed head with some difficulty to get his hair back into the orderly manner he usually wore it and was waiting out the day with little activity to look forward to. There wasn’t much he could do with his injuries aside from perhaps more sharpshooting, but he hadn’t brought his gun with him as was requested by the higher offices, so it was a sick day for now. Demetri hadn’t had anything resembling a sick day ever since one of his captains ordered him to take shore leave when he was still an ensign, said he was a little too uptight.
Currently, he was letting his mind wander around. Rokushiki training, what it was really like, whether or not he could complete all six, the nature of the Director, the relationship between the ninja and the world government that they would cooperate so nicely. Naturally the last thought was a simple question to answer: as members of the World Government, they had obligations to the government such as this but his thoughts soon turned to their attitudes.
They all seemed to be cold and distant, possibly more so than Demetri himself. They were quiet, didn’t seem interested in holding conversation with him, and seemed to avoid any contact with him if they could help it. He then wondered if he was as uncomfortable to be around as well.
He didn’t pursue the subject for very long. The director popped in and he almost lost his train of thought.
“How are you feeling there, Demetri?”
“…”
Demetri wouldn’t have guessed this to be the opening remark from his new superior. He was becoming difficult to pin down, leaving him at the mercy of an animal’s unbridled fury the first day and now checking up on him to see if he was doing okay, smiling even as if nothing had happened. Perhaps he was merely keeping tabs on Demetri as if he were an investment, which would make sense since he was from a certain point of view.
“I believe I’m doing better. It only hurts a little now.” While he was speaking, Demetri slowly sat up on the mat so that he could at least speak to the Director properly. “Is there anything you want me to do for you, sir?”
In the corner of the tent, his suit was neatly folded on the ground, still covered in dust and filth from yesterday. It was dry clean only and it was the only clothes he brought with him. Even now, his sleeping clothes were only comprised of the white shirt he wore under his dress shirt and the light grey boxer-briefs he normally wore. With the day already underway, he had removed his bed head with some difficulty to get his hair back into the orderly manner he usually wore it and was waiting out the day with little activity to look forward to. There wasn’t much he could do with his injuries aside from perhaps more sharpshooting, but he hadn’t brought his gun with him as was requested by the higher offices, so it was a sick day for now. Demetri hadn’t had anything resembling a sick day ever since one of his captains ordered him to take shore leave when he was still an ensign, said he was a little too uptight.
Currently, he was letting his mind wander around. Rokushiki training, what it was really like, whether or not he could complete all six, the nature of the Director, the relationship between the ninja and the world government that they would cooperate so nicely. Naturally the last thought was a simple question to answer: as members of the World Government, they had obligations to the government such as this but his thoughts soon turned to their attitudes.
They all seemed to be cold and distant, possibly more so than Demetri himself. They were quiet, didn’t seem interested in holding conversation with him, and seemed to avoid any contact with him if they could help it. He then wondered if he was as uncomfortable to be around as well.
He didn’t pursue the subject for very long. The director popped in and he almost lost his train of thought.
“How are you feeling there, Demetri?”
“…”
Demetri wouldn’t have guessed this to be the opening remark from his new superior. He was becoming difficult to pin down, leaving him at the mercy of an animal’s unbridled fury the first day and now checking up on him to see if he was doing okay, smiling even as if nothing had happened. Perhaps he was merely keeping tabs on Demetri as if he were an investment, which would make sense since he was from a certain point of view.
“I believe I’m doing better. It only hurts a little now.” While he was speaking, Demetri slowly sat up on the mat so that he could at least speak to the Director properly. “Is there anything you want me to do for you, sir?”