Well, that was that, wasn't it? Trying not to sulk too visibly, Theo grabbed what was left on the table once everyone else had reclaimed their items: his cards, a few dice (most of them weighted), and a couple trinkets that weren't exactly rightfully his but that he hadn't stolen at this particular party.
"This was my best shirt," he said forlornly, looking at the blood-soaked tear on his shoulder. The wound wasn't severe, and the bleeding had mostly stopped -- he'd held a wad of shirt to the injury as people reclaimed their stuff. Probably wouldn't hurt to clean and bandage it once people were no longer brandishing weapons at him. Well, it would sting quite a lot, actually, but it would be for the best in the long run.
Looking at the guards, he sighed and held up his hands -- one rather bloodstained from tending to his shoulder. "All right, I'm leaving. You people really don't know how to party."
"This was my best shirt," he said forlornly, looking at the blood-soaked tear on his shoulder. The wound wasn't severe, and the bleeding had mostly stopped -- he'd held a wad of shirt to the injury as people reclaimed their stuff. Probably wouldn't hurt to clean and bandage it once people were no longer brandishing weapons at him. Well, it would sting quite a lot, actually, but it would be for the best in the long run.
Looking at the guards, he sighed and held up his hands -- one rather bloodstained from tending to his shoulder. "All right, I'm leaving. You people really don't know how to party."
Theo
"Poker" by ND Strupler is licensed with CC BY 2.0.
