|Robin Hood is the Prince of Thieves (robinofthehood) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2014-01-11 12:49:00
|Entry tags:||guy of gisborne, robin hood|
Who: Robin and
Where: They're totally not in a cell at the police station...
What: Blaming each other for things that they both did
When: Early evening
"This is your fault, I hope you're aware of that." He glanced sideways at Gisborne briefly from where he stood with his hands resting through the bars of the cell. He'd given up trying to convince the officer on duty they really shouldn't be there when it became clear she was blatantly ignoring everything he said. He wasn't drunk. Not really. On his way, perhaps. And he'd been more than happy to join Gisborne in his valiant attempt to get there, until a few boisterous patrons at the bar had decided to interrupt.
A quiet drink. An attempt to help Guy even temporarily take his mind off things. That had been the plan. But fate, it seemed, did not want the two of them to ever share an experience that did not involve some kind of drama. Usually, drama involving violence. They had barely been there an hour when it had all started. One man had thrown a punch at another, and the mans subsequent fall on to their table had spilt Gisborne's drink. And from there it had descended rapidly. How they had come from there to here, he was less inclined to dwell on.
"I would be at home, with my wife, and there would be a warm fire." Amongst other things he didn't think were necessary to discuss, present company in particular. He let his head drop forward again, forehead resting against the steel bars in front of him. Now he was cold, and his jaw ached, though admittedly, despite a souring mood, he was able to see the lighter side of what had happened. Mostly.