Thread: Postman & Mermaid Who: Arla Lawrence and David de Souza When: Late evening (rather late-late evening), March 9 (into March 10) Where: David's office What: Arla's frustrated about training for her scary battle assignment and she's been training so hard that she's hurting herself. David said he had some salve that would help her hands, so she's gone to bother him.
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It was late and most people were in bed, but Arla was so sore and exhausted that she couldn't sleep. Her skin was thick, tough like a dolphin's, but she'd still worn through it on her knuckles where she'd started punching the bag and couldn't stop. There were a lot of emotions to work out. An assignment and she was so out of shape that she wasn't sure if she could handle it. She'd spent almost the last year incapacitated for one reason or another and she hadn't been in her right mind... and now this.
Oh, and the funny thing was? All she wanted in order to calm her nerves was a drink, but she wasn't allowing herself to have one and it was like Chinese motherfucking water torture. So now, she was twitchy and high-strung and more tightly wound than ever, no matter how tired she was, and she was hurting in all kinds of miserable places. In fact, it was almost like her bleeding hands were the least of her aches and pains right now. But.. David was offering a solution to some of her pain, so she'd thrown a bathrobe over her shorts and tank top and she went shuffling across the hall to the guidance office that doubled as David's living room.
"David...?" Shoving her glasses up to rub at her tired eyes, she rapped on the door frame with her knuckles. "Shit! Ow... ow." She kissed her wounds, sucked on one that had started bleeding again.