useofaswhat | 011 ✫ Voice and Spam

Backdated to December 16th
[Warden filter]

Ladd Russo's back in Zero, and I'm gonna suggest y'all leave him there. He decided rippin' into Omar Little sounded like a world of fun. We got him in the infirmary, I don't reckon he'll be feelin' too great for a while.

[Infirmary spam]
[The bandages don't stick on Mal's wrists. Underneath them the lacerations from the ropes itch and he idly runs his fingers over them, dull nails scratching at the cloth. His injuries had been nowhere near the level of Omar's, but he hadn't come out of the ordeal untouched. His wounds are cleaned, stitches in, a cup of water grasped in his somewhat unsteady hand, and he's trying not to look at the man he's spent the last few days with.

It isn't right an inmate's lying over there like so much meat while Mal's got the injuries of a boy after roughhousing. Not when Mal's the one who was supposed to stop the whole thing. Really ought to have played out different.

For a long time he'd refused to sit – it was the type of stunt Simon would've lost his patience over – and he'd eventually been forced down onto the examination table where he still remains. No one's given him the go-ahead to leave yet, as much as he's dying to get down to the mess hall. He's had nothing but water for three days (but at least now he's got the option of gnawing on his nails).]

Threaded | Flat

What happened to you? [She can put together that it wasn't anywhere or anything good.]

Are you alright?

[Shane's got no injuries - he looks normal. However he's in day two of the death toll so lying there looking like an undead thing lying with his head against the pillows ...not wanting to move. The ruckus woke him up and at least he's got a name to the face.

His skull had to be re-arranged, so talking is really hard. However Mal can be texted right? Here's text.]

U look like u got into a fight w a meat grinder.

[Omar's been pretty quiet since he woke up. He's not a supremely chatty person by nature -- he tends to save his words for when they'll have the most impact -- but even for him, he's been quiet. Pensive, maybe, is the right word for it. He reads a lot, or at least puts on the appearance of reading, despite the clumsiness of his fumbling hands. He bears the pain and Leslie's... Leslie-ing with quiet dignity and says as little as possible.

And then, out of the blue, he shuts the book in his lap and says:]

What they got to say 'bout absolution where you come from?

[Look who it is. Slowly defrosting Duo who's got about three layers of blankets over him. Don't mind him, shivering and chattering teeth over here, him having touch of death toll.]

I wanna know what happened?

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