<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">To his surprise, Altair's request was granted. Cygnus came back to him to drop a blanket over him. It wasn't pretty, but it would do the trick to protect his skin. The crew was acting nervous, something the Captain probably picked up more easily than Altair did himself. He seemed to change his mind about leaving him out, and unlocked the cumbersome restraint. Would they not settle with his presence, and without a direct order from Cygnus? Apparently his prattling on in thick Dusanian had done a number on them, especially since the man he'd marked at died.<br/>
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Altair took too slow getting to his feet, and Cygnus pulled him up. He hissed at the handling, but Cygnus only gave him a shove to get going. He directed him back to his cabin, seeming annoyed with him even though his current state was his doing. If he didn't want him slow and lethargic he shouldn't have whipped him bloody. He didn't care to be back in the cabin, but he supposed it would be better than being left beneath the sun, even with a blanket for protection. Of course, now he had to suffer Cygnus' company, though the man settled him at the desk and busied himself with other things.<br/>
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Altair opened his mouth, hesitant to say anything. He was never sure what the right way was with Cygnus. Everything he'd done so far had been wrong, and so he questioned his training and didn't react immediately like he might have usually done so for a Dusanian master. In the end though, he decided that if Cygnus didn't beat him for asking for a covering, he might not beat him for this either. Altair was looking out across the desk, touching one of the extra quills.<br/>
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“Is there anything you need of me? I can scribe, in a handful of different languages,” Altair offered as he watched Cygnus carefully. Maybe if he made himself useful in other areas, Cygnus would put him to work there and he'd let him heal in relative peace. Scribe work would be easy on his body, whereas Altair shuddered at the thought that Cygnus might want to fuck him again. He'd been taught because Dusanian's liked to keep records and detailed notes. Often he had many jobs to do, and scribework and record keeping were among some of the things he'd been taught. He didn't know how organized the Captain really was, but maybe he had a need. Something to show him he could be useful in other ways if he'd only venture to learn about his actual skillset. Cygnus made it seem like he'd be taking him back up on deck shortly, to restrain him again, and that wasn't something he was looking forward to. Maybe he could persuade him that he had better things he could be doing with his time.<br/>
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“I used to do it for previous masters.”</span></span>