Another shit day, and with a little red needle prick on his upper arm to prove it.
Reid didn't know what was worse. Everything up until last night, or everything including last night and that day. Because having gotten absolutely nowhere the previous night and spending the day mostly drugged up was a bit of a unwarranted cool down period, wasn't it? Reid Garwin, motion suspended, not doing high energy, dangerous things, or relieving his temper by beating the staff up. (Foiled attempts didn't count. You got needled to prove that, too.)
From his position on his bed, he squinted at the ceiling, then covered his eyes with his forearm.
His thoughts were playing like oil and water in his head. Apparently his body couldn't shake off drugs quite so fast when he was near normal. The smell of the food didn't even make a dent in his consciousness. More or less, what the hell time was it?
Time for night soon?
After another second, the warlock rolled off the bed, got up, tried to wet his cotton-mouth, and went for his closet. Impulsive acts were kind of his forte. Taking out the half-pack of smokes and the lighter (they were never very far out of reach, even if he'd never actually bothered with either until now), and pulled a cig out. Well. He'd never gone for the heavyweight shit like this... recreational smoking was either with the lighter stuff, or else there were other, funner things to do instead. In his opinion.
Still, he leaned back against the closet door and lit one. Something to take his mind off of things. Or wake it up. Whatever.
M61
Reid didn't know what was worse. Everything up until last night, or everything including last night and that day. Because having gotten absolutely nowhere the previous night and spending the day mostly drugged up was a bit of a unwarranted cool down period, wasn't it? Reid Garwin, motion suspended, not doing high energy, dangerous things, or relieving his temper by beating the staff up. (Foiled attempts didn't count. You got needled to prove that, too.)
From his position on his bed, he squinted at the ceiling, then covered his eyes with his forearm.
His thoughts were playing like oil and water in his head. Apparently his body couldn't shake off drugs quite so fast when he was near normal. The smell of the food didn't even make a dent in his consciousness. More or less, what the hell time was it?
Time for night soon?
After another second, the warlock rolled off the bed, got up, tried to wet his cotton-mouth, and went for his closet. Impulsive acts were kind of his forte. Taking out the half-pack of smokes and the lighter (they were never very far out of reach, even if he'd never actually bothered with either until now), and pulled a cig out. Well. He'd never gone for the heavyweight shit like this... recreational smoking was either with the lighter stuff, or else there were other, funner things to do instead. In his opinion.
Still, he leaned back against the closet door and lit one. Something to take his mind off of things. Or wake it up. Whatever.