[open] can somebody please just tie me down

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow + you
WHAT: Bedrest and recuperation from Awful Things
WHEN: August
WHERE: mostly the Gallows
NOTES: I'll make starters if people want 'em

I.
Bedrest is ideal for people who like to read, or sleep, or sit around pondering life's mysteries. Although Barrow likes sleep as much as the next person, and reading is fine, he has little use for life's mysteries and finds more often than not that he is simply staring at the ceiling and unfairly wishing ill on the medic who impressed on him the need for his joints to mend this way.
He is, perhaps, a little grumpier than usual, but also absolutely desperate for any form of stimulation, so visitors are welcome. Especially if they have treats.

II.
When he's up and about again, Barrow knows better than to go straight to the training pitch and start swinging his hammer around, so instead he defaults to the more leisurely activity of ferrying off to the nearest pub and parking himself there to absorb whatever jollity is occurring at the moment.
He probably drinks too much, especially now, with so much going through his mind; but it's hard to help it, when there's very little else to do and so much he doesn't want to think about. At least he's a pleasant and agreeable drunk, not all that different from when he's sober, but with the sort of absent-minded nihilism that has historically made him either a good lay or a recipient for one's woes. He's rather more open to the latter these days, though the former has its place, at least for the right person.

Comments

[thereneverwas]

Barrow tends to prefer games that don't require a lot of strategy, never having had much room for it in his mind (or at least not that he'll admit). He has an easy time with this one, smiling pleasantly as they play rapid-fire rounds.

"Just the week," he replies, easily enough, "though I'm to be careful after that, keep movement limited, and so forth." There's a touch of frustration in his voice, but he's hiding it well.

[coquettish_trees]

"Ah, the truly terrible fate of being delicate and having your every need catered to." She sighs the sigh of someone entirely empathetic to such a thing. The worst, really. A card played, trick taken and swept neatly into the little stack that is managing to almost keep pace with his. "What is it that galls you most about it?"

[thereneverwas]

Oh, so it's gonna be like that, is it-- he shoots her a faux-chagrined scowl, accompanied by a snort as she takes the trick.

"People who come in just to trounce me at cards," he mutters, humor in his gruffness.