[Munch's Master]

Hallelujah! The next chapter is up! I'm a bit undecided about this chapter. It's a rather long one, it took up two and a tiny bit pages in Word, and it's slow for the mos tpart, but does pick up at some points. Also I couldn't come up with a name for this chapter. All I will say is this bit shows a side to Arthur that you might or might not expect, and it also has a brief reference to the W@RF RPG, as this fic is set after the RP. I hope you like it, if you do please reply and critique where neccessary.

Chapter 5

“Larry? La-rry?”
Larry opened one eye to find Trevor, Max and Jeff crowded round him, looking quite worried. Well, Trevor and Jeff quite worried, Max was his usually p’ed off self, flexing his hands angrily as a sign that he was close to boiling point already. He opened his other eye slowly and glanced around, trying to take in his bearings. Still in the cafeteria. Oh well, better than being operated on by a Vykker. Larry thought to himself.
“Hey, you’re awake.” Trevor smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder.
“How long was I out?” Larry replied, still in obvious pain from his leg.
“About 5 minutes. Arthur was on duty and he let us stay behind and make sure you were alright. I think he’s gone to get some stuff to bandage up your leg.” Trevor replied, gesturing at his injured limb. Larry looked down and felt nauseated. His leg had teeth marks all over it from where he had been bitten; bits of dead skin had peeled up here and there, and partially dried blood encrusted his leg all over.
“I hope Arthur hurries up soon.” Larry grimaced, the sharp pain becoming a constant throbbing ache. He others just stayed silent, except for Max, who was still muttering darkly. Larry lay there waiting for a short while, until finally Arthur came walking back in, carrying a small roll of grubby looking bandage in one hand. He hurried over to Larry, and set the bandages down on the table.
“You’re going ter need that rinsing first Larry, all that blood won’t help.” Arthur simply stated.
“I can’t get up on it, how do I get to a sink to wash it?” Larry asked, more of a rhetorical question that anything.
Arthur gave the expected answer “Fine, we’d better carry yer. Trevor, support him by that side, Jeff, turn on the sink, Max, err, just keep doing what you are doing now.”
Max continued his angry mutterings and pacing, while Jeff hurried and turned on the taps at the sink. Together, Arthur and Trevor supported Larry, one under each arm, and helped him to the sink. When there, they waited as Larry rubbed his leg clean of the dried blood and skin as best he could with the warm water, then they helped him back to the bench and sat him back down.
Arthur picked up the bandages and handed them to Trevor just saying “I take it you know how ter do bandages?”
“How did you get these?” Larry asked before Trevor could reply.
“Eh? Oh, I err, got ‘em from the surgeon, they’re quite old an’ dirty, but they’re better than nothing.” Arthur answered, not bothering to look at him.
Trevor got on with the bandaging, Arthur standing watch. It all was going quite well until another Slig entered the mess hall, and saw what was going on. Trevor suddenly felt a hard crack in his back, and ended up on the floor with a nasty pain in the small of his back, followed by another painful thud and another pain, this time in his shoulder; with the Slig honking in his ear “What do yer think you’re doing, eh mud? Why are you bandaging him? Leave him to it, he’s hurt, he has to sort it out himself. You help him any more, and I’ll clobber yer some more.” The Slig then turned to Arthur
“And why were you allowing it? Leave ‘em to deal with their own problems, that’s what yer should’ve done, mudlover.” The Slig snarled.
Arthur’s reaction was instantaneous: the Slig suddenly found himself on his back across the table with Arthur’s hand fixed around his neck. Even Max, who had moved for the Slig the instant he struck Trevor, was surprised by Arthur and halted, slightly dumbfounded, while Arthur, his face inches away from the Sligs spat out. “Listen Lak, that mud ain’t of no use to nobody with a leg like that, so I figured that if he’s fixed up a bit, then he may be able to get on with some work.”

“Not that you’d know much about doing work, what with you sleepin’ all the time.” The Slig, apparently called Lak responded.
Arthur’s grip tightened ever so slightly around Lak’s throat. “You really don’t have any brains at all do yer? Well, lemme try and get it through your thick skull that if he’s in a capable working state, then he can do something useful, which is something you aren’t used to doing is it? Now p*ss off before yer start annoying me.” Arthur released his grip and shoved Lak away.
Lak, looking decidedly harassed, picked up his dropped baton and shuffled off through the door, but not before muttering a quick “Stresshead fag.” As he left.

“I heard that!” Arthur honked after him, but then turned back to Trevor, who picked himself up off the floor, but was still wincing
“You alright?” He asked Trevor, who weakly grinned back as he finished bandaging Larry up.
“Yeah, I’m alright, but-” however, before Trevor could continue, Larry cut across him: “Arthur, how did you do that? I mean, I always thought you were a take it easy, non-violent guy?”
Arthur grinned, before answering. “Well, since I am a take it easy guy who ain’t that violent with muds, the other Sligs started taking the piss with me, calling me a mudlover, shoving me around, you know, treating me like one of you, no offence meant. So I go into a fair few scraps, and I had to learn to fight decently well because they kept grouping on me. So cause I got so much practice, I an deal with little sh!ts like Lak there, it’s only the older and tougher ones and BigBros that I gotta watch out for.” He explained, rather cheerily.
Larry however, had a frown on his face, and asked “Well, if they all are like that with you, why don’t you try and leave?”
“In case you’ve forgotten Larry, you can’t get a transfer from here. I tried to go back to the reopened RuptureFarms, I liked it there and had friends, plus it was much easier, but I wasn’t allowed to leave. When you come to Septik Snaks, you’re stuck fer life.” He replied, much less cheery and much more darkly.
“No, I don’t mean get a transfer, why not escape, that way you can be free, you’re your own boss, nobody attacks you, and you can do what you want!” Larry replied, slightly hysterical. Jeff looked quite eager, Max suspicious. Trevor however, slapped his forehead, having a good idea what Arthur’s reaction would be. He wasn’t disappointed.
Arthur’s expression changed from a thoughtful but upbeat look to an irritated and slightly angry look, and he sharply clouted Larry around the back of the head, before answering in a rather annoyed manner “Shaddup Larry! Escape? Are you mad? I don’t personally fancy the idea of getting my brains blown out; I’d rather slug it out here, not fully happy but at least-” His voice halted ever so momentarily, but Larry picked up on it “-making an acceptable living. Now get to work; I ain’t covering for you any longer.”
The four of them knew not to disobey Arthur, as he could get quite unsafe when stressed, as he had proven with Lak earlier. Max and Jeff went to their two separate workstations while Trevor continued to aid Larry along to the Zulag area that they both worked at. When there Trevor asked the obvious question:
“Why’d you say that Larry? You were bound to get in trouble.”
“I guess I thought Arthur was… different to the others. Better. But it seems I was wrong, at the end of the day he’s the same.” Larry sighed, although he didn’t believe himself when he said that. Arthur did hit him yes, but it seemed almost half-hearted, and Larry had picked up on the pause, although Arthur had also looked unsure of himself even before he spoke. Maybe he was different....

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What did you think? I hoep you enjoyed it, I'm so-so about it. The next chapter could take a while, as writer's block has really hit me hard now. Still, good things come to those who wait (apparently...)