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"N--" Her tail went rigid as she realized what they were doing, but it wasn't as if she could resist them. Godspit, she was stuck somehow with the compassionate, and it almost made her laugh at how naive they were.
They hadn't helped her in the least. It was tradition in the lower bowels of the city that if you were beaten you let it heal naturally, or at least left the visible signs. If you did not, they who harmed would find and return for another. And every time you spat in their faces by healing it, they'd figure out other ways to make it stick. The worst part was that she herself was capable of healing and shielding others from harm; she hadn't done so because what she'd endured the night before would be nothing compared to what they might inflict next.
But she couldn't say that to the guard, or to the other one. Though the guard likely knew it, by admitting she'd been beaten for aiding in underground conflict she'd as much as take herself to the skags and lock shut the door behind her. And she still had to go to the Jiver's Den, and to do that looking healthy and fit would be close to suicide.
She pushed away from the wall, the guard, and Fejar. "Like as never hurt." She muttered. That was exactly the case. He'd reset Fikker's Crew's need to make an example out of her. She tried not to look at the guard, inwardly combating her exhaustion as she considered places that would be of use as a bolthole until the evening when she'd need to find the new location of the Den. "I'll off t'find meself a rinser now. . ." She bobbed her head agreeably to the two, and began to sidle away, resisting the urge to furiously scratch her belly. Without looking, she knew she'd been infested with fleas, again.
((I made a thread here <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://www.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=555">viewtopic.php?f=5&t=555</a><!-- l --> for ooc shiz, I'm hoping Tomcat will let us know when he wants to jump in >> ))
They hadn't helped her in the least. It was tradition in the lower bowels of the city that if you were beaten you let it heal naturally, or at least left the visible signs. If you did not, they who harmed would find and return for another. And every time you spat in their faces by healing it, they'd figure out other ways to make it stick. The worst part was that she herself was capable of healing and shielding others from harm; she hadn't done so because what she'd endured the night before would be nothing compared to what they might inflict next.
But she couldn't say that to the guard, or to the other one. Though the guard likely knew it, by admitting she'd been beaten for aiding in underground conflict she'd as much as take herself to the skags and lock shut the door behind her. And she still had to go to the Jiver's Den, and to do that looking healthy and fit would be close to suicide.
She pushed away from the wall, the guard, and Fejar. "Like as never hurt." She muttered. That was exactly the case. He'd reset Fikker's Crew's need to make an example out of her. She tried not to look at the guard, inwardly combating her exhaustion as she considered places that would be of use as a bolthole until the evening when she'd need to find the new location of the Den. "I'll off t'find meself a rinser now. . ." She bobbed her head agreeably to the two, and began to sidle away, resisting the urge to furiously scratch her belly. Without looking, she knew she'd been infested with fleas, again.
((I made a thread here <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://www.ffxiv-roleplayers.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=555">viewtopic.php?f=5&t=555</a><!-- l --> for ooc shiz, I'm hoping Tomcat will let us know when he wants to jump in >> ))