Re: I made this. Honest. (Attention: Ishkana, Ishixi, Cremsden, Tareg,

Cassandra Coogan

Tareg’s hand reaches out to grab two meat rolls, one slipping up his sleeve while the other was nibbles on. He eyed the pair suspiciously. It wasn’t like he could run, so he may as well just put up with whatever they were going to do. 
He stayed could tight, his whole body tense- which did nothing to make his ankle any less sore. 

On Friday, September 14, 2018, Lindsay <alexeden1971@...> wrote:
Ishkana took the scissors and put them to one side before proffering the plate again. "Try to keep still," she suggested, "He's good at what he does." The lad looked tense as if ready to flee at a moment's notice and Ishkana wanted to reassure him a little but wasn't entirely sure how. She dragged over a small table and placed it next to Tareg, putting the plate of meatrolls on it and standing the other side; facing towards Cremsden as if she was aligning herself with the young man.

On 14 September 2018 at 08:32, Cassandra Coogan <Aroloscass@...> wrote:
“Not a pet.” Tareg grumbled, eyes wide and heart racing as he was hit with a huge instinct to run run run. 
His hand closed tighter about the scissors before he rather hesitantly handed them over. “I’ll still have another meat roll though.” He admitted, eyes still following the scissors. Not in hand but in sight was not the same as in hand and it made him want to run-run-run. 

On Friday, September 14, 2018, Lindsay <alexeden1971@...> wrote:
Ishkana stepped forward, trying to catch Tareg's eye. "Can I take the scissors?" she asked softly. "I'll put them here where you can see them. I'll trade you for more meatrolls if you like?"

On 12 September 2018 at 08:14, Laura Walker <shewhoguards@...> wrote:

Taregs whole leg twitched as he caught the very sore spot, jerking back towards his body after the aborted kick at Cremsden. “Sorry sorry.” He tensed, eying the healer for any reaction before making himself relax, the scissors now in his hand and very visible. 

"It's fine, it's fine, I poke something that hurts I expect--" Cremsden's voice was a reassuring murmur until he finally glanced up and caught sight of the scissors. For a moment he stopped, hands stilling on Tareg's ankle.

"Put those down, there's a good lad," he said, voice very calm. "Next to you is fine, where you can reach 'em is fine, but you wave anything sharp around when I'm setting off your reflexes like this and you're as liable to hurt yourself as someone else."

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

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