C[re]ate Champion
Post by Isaac on Aug 25, 2015 9:40:41 GMT -5
The moment Nineveh stumbled—failing to walk by himself—Isaac grabbed Nineveh's shoulder and steadied him enough to sit down in the chair. He himself stood beside the chair, leaning on a wall and looking like a statue as he remained stock still, his eyes vacant behind his orange visor. But he listened. He had listened to everything Nineveh had said, even the mutterings and fights with himself.
Then, he felt a tug on the bottom of his jacket. Nineveh called for him weakly, and Isaac rolled his eyes down to see his pale, sickly face. Nineveh sounded tired, pained, desperate, but also honest as he asked his question. There was a genuine need for an answer, as if Isaac's words would decide whether he stole from the clinic or not, whether he lived or died.
Isaac didn't speak.
Pushing off the wall, Isaac wandered through the clinic. He checked a couple cabinets and then a couple rooms, searching. For about three minutes, he left Nineveh alone in the lobby, and when he came back, he held two plastic packages in his hands. From his left hand, he tossed a bag of saline into Nineveh's lap. And from his right hand, he threw a tiny packet of Novi-gel into the corner of the chair. Then, with hard footsteps, Isaac approached Nineveh's chair, and without any wind-up he threw a hard punch at Nineveh's face.
Whether he manage to hit Nineveh in his tired state or not, Isaac kept walking, almost drive-by slugging the man as he headed for the door. Without listening to another word, he opened the door, stepped outside, and headed home.
Then, he felt a tug on the bottom of his jacket. Nineveh called for him weakly, and Isaac rolled his eyes down to see his pale, sickly face. Nineveh sounded tired, pained, desperate, but also honest as he asked his question. There was a genuine need for an answer, as if Isaac's words would decide whether he stole from the clinic or not, whether he lived or died.
Isaac didn't speak.
Pushing off the wall, Isaac wandered through the clinic. He checked a couple cabinets and then a couple rooms, searching. For about three minutes, he left Nineveh alone in the lobby, and when he came back, he held two plastic packages in his hands. From his left hand, he tossed a bag of saline into Nineveh's lap. And from his right hand, he threw a tiny packet of Novi-gel into the corner of the chair. Then, with hard footsteps, Isaac approached Nineveh's chair, and without any wind-up he threw a hard punch at Nineveh's face.
Whether he manage to hit Nineveh in his tired state or not, Isaac kept walking, almost drive-by slugging the man as he headed for the door. Without listening to another word, he opened the door, stepped outside, and headed home.
Smiley Specialist
