"Explain my injuries?!" exlaimed Wash incredulously. He bent double and coughed before he continued. "That's like... like asking a native of Monsaic Lines how he was stung by bees! I don't know, I was hung up in a detention block blindfolded, beaten, and that was that. Presumably that was them they dumped me here in his Odd-forsaken factory." He sputtered and choked again, then shot a cursory glance back at Linc. A hand came up automatically to his torture tattoo and rubbed his arm. He could almost feel the pain of it's administration again.
"I- I was unconcious most of the time, so the beatings became... more ritual, if you know what I mean. Just something hey ahd to do, as opposed to punishment, since I was out of it." Wash paused for another moment and stared into space, the memory of his old "home" turning his eyes cold and empty, like the survivors of a Grubb extermination. "I dare say they enjoyed it though." His voice cracked as he almost cried.
Wash took in a deep breath and pulled himself together. The breath aggravated his lungs. "They seem to have worked my ribs excessively, so you may wish to start there. All the softer parts; my belly, kidneys, and most of my limbs are badly bruised-" he heaved on the floor and sputtered blood from his lungs, barely noticing the Intern's eyes widen with this sudden display of injury. The mudokon lifted his head and wiped the blood off his face. His voice came out as a croak.
"You may wanna see to that too, doc."
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