[Oh no. It's haPPENING AGAIN AND THIS TIME JORAH IS DOING THE DEED HIMSELF.
Viserys hits the bar like a sack of bricks. Very thin bricks meant for a slender wall but bricks nonetheless. He squirms and writhes and, without several men on him and a broken arm, feels he might have a chance. This potential outcome is helped along by the fact Jorah has had a fill of drink already; he isn't necessarily going to be at his best right now, and that is the only way Viserys could ever hope to best him, even if besting just meant creating an open so he could b o l t t h e f u c k o u t.
Having his throat touched is the final straw, and he manages to avoid trying to kick him when he feels all about blinded by several colors gleaming directly into his eyes — a wine glass. Not much but enough to daze. Or, well, maybe just anger. But if he breaks part of it, the stem can impale. Could he kill anyone, even if that person had watched his murder and did nothing to stop it? No. Probably not. Not with his own hands, not purposefully. The scattered eyes fits their current situation; he always did look for relief from anyone but himself, at least when Jorah knew him. He adds a pathetic, horrible whimper-whine to drive home the idea he's just so helpless and scared. They're both not untrue.
Grasping fingers latch onto its base, roll over the stem, and move to smash it against some soft and vulnerable part of Jorah, temple or cheek or neck. He may get just as much glass in his own soft skin but he'll deal with that later.]
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Viserys hits the bar like a sack of bricks. Very thin bricks meant for a slender wall but bricks nonetheless. He squirms and writhes and, without several men on him and a broken arm, feels he might have a chance. This potential outcome is helped along by the fact Jorah has had a fill of drink already; he isn't necessarily going to be at his best right now, and that is the only way Viserys could ever hope to best him, even if besting just meant creating an open so he could b o l t t h e f u c k o u t.
Having his throat touched is the final straw, and he manages to avoid trying to kick him when he feels all about blinded by several colors gleaming directly into his eyes — a wine glass. Not much but enough to daze. Or, well, maybe just anger. But if he breaks part of it, the stem can impale. Could he kill anyone, even if that person had watched his murder and did nothing to stop it? No. Probably not. Not with his own hands, not purposefully. The scattered eyes fits their current situation; he always did look for relief from anyone but himself, at least when Jorah knew him. He adds a pathetic, horrible whimper-whine to drive home the idea he's just so helpless and scared. They're both not untrue.
Grasping fingers latch onto its base, roll over the stem, and move to smash it against some soft and vulnerable part of Jorah, temple or cheek or neck. He may get just as much glass in his own soft skin but he'll deal with that later.]