"Stay out, filth."
Matthias hit the floor hard, rolled a few feet, and laid still, coated in darkness. Once the guards had left, however...
"BLARGH!"
He vomited. It wasn't the quiet, liquidy-sounding vomiting, either. It was the full-effect, gagging and belching and screaming-in-between-barf-ejections kinda vomit. At some point, it stopped being a puddle and became, to Matthias, anyway, a small pond.
"Christ on a bun..."
He vomited slightly more.
"I can't believe the bastard KISSED me! I mean, one would think he'd try and compensate for his EXTREMELY girly appearance by acting more... heterosexual."
He stood up, realized he was talking to himself, and shifted to inner-monologue mode.
How did he do that? he asked himself, and the usually-silent computer in his head. He hadn't actually been drunk; he'd probably have died consuming as much alcohol as his little glass-castle would suggest. He poured most of it out the window. Sure, he'd taken a sip or two, but not enough to impair his fighting skills that dramatically... and the Shrike hadn't just beaten him, he'd embarrassed him.
"Oh, he'll pay alright."
The signal. He had to wait for the signal. Miraye was still gunna give the signal. Gotta get back inside. But now he wasn't allowed to cause a scene. No more scenes. Right.
He began scaling the stones of the wall. Halfway up, something crossed his mind.
"Why the Hell didn't I draw my sword?!"