"Why are you being held here?" He began examining the binds, searching for the best way to remove them. "Hrrm. I do not think I can detach these binds without cutting off both of your hands."
gnrlmartok
For as much time as she had been left undisturbed, Verelan had made little progress herself in orienting herself, and even less so in attempting to remove the binds that pinned her wrists in a crude, but highly effective form of shackle. It didn’t help matters that she felt rather addled, as though she’d been knocked around quite violently.
The fact that she couldn’t remember just how she’d gotten that way (aside from a few, broken memory fragments) wasn’t comforting.Â
A sliver of light had broken the gloom of the chamber she was being held in, and she couldn’t help but shift and squint at the sudden appearance of a large figure next to her. “Jolan… tru,” the Romulan slurred slightly in greeting, lifting her head up to meet the Klingon’s eye. She appeared to grow slightly more focused as she was spoken to, though she was looking at the Klingon General though a battered face and still felt as though she’d been drugged.
“I would… prefer you not do that,” she said after a moment of consideration. enough skin had already been rubbed away in a circle around her wrist in what was apparently a previous effort to remove the bindings. That was pain enough– removing her hands would not do. Thus far, she avoided explaining why she was there– she didn’t think she remembered at that point.
Concentrate. “Is there a way… to remove the attachment to the wall?” she asked. “Bio… bio-synthetic replacements are what I would consider a last resort for my hands if you cannot.”
