(no subject)

[pitythetrumper]

Two days after his confrontation with Lex and his bruises had turned interesting shades. Purples and blues and greens and all kinds of shades that shouldn't be on human skin. Still, it wasn't something that he regretted. The only thing that he did regret was that he'd lost. Still, it had served to get a little of his agression out, which meant that for the first time since he'd arrived here, he felt calm enough to sit down at the chessboard. The pieces were set up from memory as he played out one of Sergievsky's games with Viigand. It was that damned King's Indian Defense. That and the fact that Sergievsky didn't appear to remember any of it. That or he was lying or, as he so colorfully suggest of Freddie, he was crazy.

"I'm not crazy," he muttered under his breath, forcing his brain to return to the game instead of some crazy Russian.