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[burnyoudown]

[Where did he even start with this?

He wore a pair of white-rimmed sunglasses even though he was indoors, and he raised his right arm, showing off the splint he was wearing on his forearm. It wasn't the same as a cast, he didn't know if it did the job as well, but it was the best he had.]

I've been dealing with this shit for a while. Is there a hospital here? Anyone who knows what they're doing with medical shit?

[He should probably clarify better-]

It's broken.

[And it was far more important than the cut on his other arm, which had more or less healed already thanks to the weird shit that had been going on most of the last few weeks. He was worried it was going to scar, but he'd also rather have a scar than a broken arm.]

Been that way for a while. A few weeks? Something like that.

I don't like asking for help, but-

[He shrugged, dropping his arm out of frame. After a moment's pause, he ended the video.]

Comments

[stitch_witch]

[Well, at least he believed that there could be a difference between religious sorts. That meant he had a mind which would let him evaluate before he judged, and that was valuable.]

Yes, if you really wanted to. I could teach you some if you wish.

[burnyoudown]

[Kavinsky managed not to say that Steve probably wouldn't like him very much if they knew each other better, then. But in this case, Kavinsky wasn't the one who'd broken someone's arm.]

I can handle things myself.

[It felt like it would wound his pride to have other people go talk to or threaten Kaz on his behalf. Like he couldn't handle his own problems. He didn't need people to butt in for him, and sure, his boys did that all the time back home, but that was different. They were parts of a whole; mess with one of them and you messed with all of them, that was the lesson people learned.

He made a face.]

Of-fucking-course.

[He wasn't really surprised; he hadn't been doing things right, he was sure. It was just his luck.]

Can't hurt worse than the first time, right? Painkillers or not, if it's what's gotta be done...

[He shrugged. He didn't want a fucked up arm. He wanted it to heal right.]

[burnyoudown]

no I mean like
motherfucking fuckweasel
shit-ass bitch

[kree_soldieress]

What do those mean?

[burnyoudown]

Maybe after my arm's not broken.

[He didn't want to push his luck, if he was being honest.]

Stretching and shit sounds like it'd be awful right now.

[And...whatever else was involved with becoming more flexible. Fuck if he knew.]

[stitch_witch]

Oh yes, you'd definitely want to be healthier if we ever wanted to do lessons. Better not to upset your arm.