I wanna get better and write stuff for fun

Yordem’s least favorite type of prisoner transport was the kind where you and a handful of soldiers you didn’t particularly like had to carry some asshole you hated across a city you despised and keep him safe from anybody with a knife in hand who might just decide to do the right thing today, which was unfortunate, because he’d spent most of his morning so far doing exactly that.

“Eyes up, Earthmantle!” shouted the commander. Yordem suppressed a crack about the commander’s lazy eye and whether the commander might know the difference between up and sideways.

“Yes, sir!” he barked, and resumed scanning the streets ahead for any trouble.

“Earthmantle!?” the prisoner asked with a twittering laugh that made the skin between Yordem’s shoulderblades itch. “Not just any dwarf, but a dwarf of means! How on earth does an Earthmantle wind up on guard duty? Must’ve done something to upset Daddy, didn’t w-” he cut off as Yordem shoved his shoulder forward. “That’s enough from you,” Yordem growled. While you’re still in our custody, you're still a prisoner."

“Temper, temper,” the prisoner chortled before resuming his leisurely stroll within the circle of underpaid guardsmen.

The prisoner they were transporting was an young elf from a lower noble house that no-one cared about who had just sat trial for abusing and eventually murdering one of the cleaning maids in his parent’s estate. Everyone knew he was guilty, as his initial acceptance of a plea deal was highly publicized, but his lawyers had found some unfortunate scruple nestled in the evidence reports that led to his eventual arrest, and the case wound up being thrown out for that technicality. Yordem’s rage at the elf simmered deep in his chest. He’d stood quietly as the prisoner made a teary-eyed speech, his noble family arrayed haughtily around him, about his sorrow at this misunderstanding, at how grateful he was for the services of such passionate and hard-working representation to see that this miscarriage of justice was stopped in it’s tracks and blah blah fucking rich piece of shit blah. It made Yordem sick; he wanted nothing more than to wrap this rapist’s teeth around the nearest curb and do whatever next came to mind. But he couldn’t. He was a soldier. He was a guardsman. He was an Earthmantle. There were expectations for his behavior.

Me: OH THAT'S why I fucking hate Community now, even though I used to binge watch it as a comfort show.

So they wander into my workshop and I spend a couple weeks teaching them how to use power tools, and fasteners, and how to paint wood to look like different wood, and wouldn't you believe these kids are some of the coolest fucking people I've ever met?