Titus was bored.
The court proceedings had lasted around eight days now, and with the inevitability of his slight indiscretion earlier that year being dismissed completely, he didn't even have nervous apprehension to keep him company. The evidence against him was laughable, the dog splice's words against his own.
Jupiter Jones looked tired. She'd spent a great deal of the proceedings avoiding eye contact with him at every cost. He'd tried to smile and wave back at her from the stand several times, something that had been strongly advised against by his legal counsel, but today Jupiter was not entertaining an exchange back. A couple of times this week she'd stuck her middle finger in the air towards him, what she meant by such an action was beyond him, but he assumed it wasn't a friendly Earth custom. Regardless, it had only made him smile more.
Finally, it was time to take the stand to hear his predictably not guilty verdict. Titus found himself rolling his eyes as the lizard splice read out his titles, his name, and proceeded to drift over the mind-numbing formalities leading up to the verdict. His eyes made fleeting contact with Jupiter's.
"Guilty."
This time, it was Jupiter who smiled back, and Titus' expression turned from smug anticipation to distraught disbelief.
"Is this some sort of joke?" Titus protested indignantly.
"As an Entitled, you are not subject to imprisonment, but are subject to a number of other penalties due to your offense being committed against another Entitled. As such, Miss Jones has outlined her specifications for these penalties in the following document…"
Titus felt his blood run cold with frustration and horror as the list was read out. It wasn't the penalties themselves, it was the principle. Someone like her did not get to tell someone like him what to do. A lot of them were much tamer than he'd expected them to be: donating money to some stupid splices-in-need charity, donating a small amount of his Regenex supplies to hospitals for healing purposes etc. The list was infuriating, none the less.
"I need a drink." Titus shook his head, his voice practically shaking with anger.
"And lastly, a mandatory 65 day stay in the Panacia Rehabilitation Clinic."
"What?" Titus choked, looking from the lizard splice that stood before him to Jupiter. By now he was practically on the verge of tears.
"Re-hab." Jupiter called out from her stand, sounding out the words just patronisingly enough to hide how much she was enjoying this. "From what I've seen, you could definitely do with a lifestyle adjustment!"
"Case closed!" The lizard splice called over the court room, as two guards appeared at Titus' side.
"Have fun, Titus!" Jupiter's mocking voice sang out across the courtroom. "Be good!"
"Name?"
The disinterested receptionist asked, continuing to scribble down notes without looking up. She was a splice of some sort, yet Titus couldn't make out what.
"Name?"
Pulling himself out of the restraints of the guard who had escorted him into Panacia, Titus attempted to straighten himself up, appear as authoritative as possible, and not desperately miserable that he was going to have to spend the next two months in the hell that was sobriety.
"My name? Oh I'll give you my name! I am Lord Titus Abrasax, third…second…primary heir to the Great House of Abrasax, and I demand that you discharge me from this…this… circus…at once!" He winced at his momentarily lapse in memory regarding Balem's death.
The receptionist continued scribbling down notes against her clipboard, her gaze briefly flickering upward to meet Titus'.
"Dr. Shule, the Abrasax brat is here." She called towards the office door behind her.
"Excuse me? Did you not hear what I just said?!"
The receptionist sighed, clicking her pen in, and reaching underneath the desk. She placed a small pile of folded, grey clothes down in front of her, pushing them towards Titus.
"Get changed into these after checking in. Everyone here wears the same clothes. No exceptions."
"I am not wearing those!" Titus snorted.
"No exceptions. Not for you, not for anyone."
"But—" Titus looked down at the grey sweatshirt and trousers with a mixture of bemusement and disgust. "They're disgusting! You can't really expect me to wear these! This is -"
"And the rings too, can't have you flying into a rage because you can't get your own way with those things on your fingers." The receptionist motioned to the numerous, jewelled ornaments on Titus' hands with her pen. She already appeared bored of the conversation.
For a moment, Titus stared blankly back at the receptionist, wide eyed with irritation and disbelief. As he pulled the rings from his fingers with a deliberate, tedious pace, he finally saw it. She was a sloth splice.
"You know, what? No. I'm not taking orders from a fucking sloth splice!" He laughed, holding on to his rings in one hand.
"Well, I'm not taking orders from a fucking spoilt brat who's managed to develop a substance abuse problem because he's so rich he has nothing better to do. And don't get me started on why you're so rich, that's a whole other path I could lead down." The receptionist replied, with little more than a second's pause. "My name is Lyta, by the way. In case 'fucking sloth splice' is too much of a mouthful for you. "
Titus was stunned, falling short of a decent response as he stared back at her. He placed his rings down on the desk.
"So that's you checked in." Lyta replied after around half a minute of uncomfortable silence. "You're in room 316. Make sure you've changed into your clothes within the hour, Dr Shule will be visiting you shortly."
Reluctantly, Titus picked up the bundle of disgusting grey cloth, and allowed the guards to escort him to his room.
"I hate my life."
