The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Wednesday... Morning?

[okteiviakom]

In the end, it had been a very long, very happy night of drinking and laughing and dancing until there'd been no strength or energy left for any more of it, and only just barely enough for the trek through town to the port and the Rouge sometime in the... honestly, pretty late hours of the morning. Maybe? Octavia, at least, had lost track of time sometime very soon after midnight.

Regardless, after all that effort, being unconscious was a wonderful thing.

So of course it wouldn't last much longer anymore. The discomfort of just about everything was starting to seep in, clearing away sleep from its path. Octavia had apparently given up on getting out of her party clothes - such as they were - after undoing her belt, which meant the buckle was now digging into her hip because she'd rolled over onto it, and her cheek was smushed up against something that had to be Duke, judging by the warmth which by itself was actually nice, but the position of her head was wonky and straining her neck, now.

Slowly, Octavia rolled onto her back. Or, she tried for slow but ended up just limply flopping onto it. Which her head did not like, by the way, judging by the nasty throb of pain at her temple. She groaned quietly, and tried to shut her eyes even tighter.

Maybe sleep would still come back to her and save her from this nightmare that was clearly just getting started on tormenting her.

[ooc: For that gently modded guy whose boat this is.]

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[betterthanaplan]

Duke's mouth tasted like several different types of ass. He was focussing very firmly on that, because it meant pretending he could ignore the battle between his head and his stomach over which of them got to implode first.

He hadn't had a hangover like this in a very long time.

He was all set to just continue to lie there and wallow in it, when Octavia managed to catch him just below his ribs with an elbow or something in her flop, eliciting a grunt that seemed to echo through his skull.

". . . fuck." He pressed a rubbery feeling hand to his throbbing eyes.

Whose bright idea had it been to install skylights in here?

[okteiviakom]

Not Octavia's, that was for damn sure!

She wanted to rub her temples.

She did not want to move her arms. Or any other part of her, for that matter, out of fear of what kinds of pain and nausea that would unleash. So that was a dilemma. "Fuck," she agreed. Very quiet, very raspy.

[betterthanaplan]

“Need. . . .” Duke’s voice trailed off into a hiss, and he flung his hand out, groping at the bed side table. His hand found a glass, and he fumbled it to his face.

Empty.

“. . . Water,” he muttered. “S’good for hangovers.”

If he were alone, he’d definitely wallow a bit longer. With Octavia here, he had to rally.

. . . Any minute now. He would totally rally.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia was still firmly on the side of wallowing. Her usual instincts would probably kick in soon, all that incredible stubborness that dealt with not showing pain or discomfort or anything she somehow deemed not befitting a warrior, buuuut that hadn't happened yet.

She made a vaguely disgusted noise, and very gingerly brought one hand up to rub over her face.

[betterthanaplan]

“I’ll go get some.” Duke put the glass back with a thump that made him hiss again. “. . . ‘Ventually.”

This was a process. Hush.

[okteiviakom]

"Not if you're... so loud 'bout it," Octavia complained in a mumble, pinching the bridge of her nose as if that was supposed to actually help.

Sadly, it did not.

[betterthanaplan]

“Not tryin’ to be,” Duke grumbled back. Okay. He was doing it. He was getting up.

Shit, why’d he put a wind chime* there?!

* TOTALLY CANON, thanks weird aging to death episode!

[okteiviakom]

Because sober Duke had no mercy?

Octavia made another whiny, grumbly noise.

[betterthanaplan]

“I know, I know.” Duke had never been the silent type. “Water. Painkillers.” There was something else. Some other part of the ‘how to feel human again’ formula. “Breakfast. We’ll be fine.”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia responded with another quiet 'ugh'. And trying to shift very carefully but also kind of half-assedly back onto her side, because something vaguely resembling a fetal position was calling her name.

And as she moved, she was mumbling, "--ove you but you need to shut up."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke froze, suddenly much more awake.

“What?”

Nope. No way did she say what he thought she just said.

[okteiviakom]

"Shut," Octavia repeated, helpfully (... okay, crankily), "up."

She was genuinely oblivious to why he was asking. As far as her miserable self could tell, the thing here was that her head hurt and he was still talking!

[betterthanaplan]

Right. Hangover. She didn’t know what she was talking about, was probably still half asleep.

This was Not a Big Deal.

He grabbed the glass and headed for the bathroom, wincing — silently — as he went. If he held his head on at just the right angle. . . .

Water and painkillers achieved for himself, he filled the glass again, grabbed the bottle and headed back to Octavia.

“Water,” he said, holding out the glass for her. “S’basically magic.”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia groaned very quietly at the general indignance of having no way of staying exactly where she was and still being able to drink the water. Yes, despite the fact that she hadn't actually found a comfortable position while he'd been away.

The belt buckle was digging into her side, again.

She pried her eyes open, finally. Blinked a few times, trying to get her bleary gaze to work with her. "Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim," she muttered, as she shifted again, this time to push herself a little more upright, and then reached for the glass.

Grateful, despite appearances.

[betterthanaplan]

“I’m sure that’s either very rude or very wise.” Duke shook out a couple painkillers for her, then sank back down onto the bed to hold his head on while his took effect. “Mental note: the Devil’s parties leave a hell of an aftertaste.”

[okteiviakom]

"Mmh."

Wasn't much of a response, but it would have to do. Octavia downed the painkillers, and all of the water, and then pressed the side of the empty glass against her forehead.

It wasn't that cool, and wouldn't retain what little coolness it did have for very long, but it was still more soothing than her hand.

[betterthanaplan]

Duke flopped onto his back in the bed, determined to rest until the painkillers kicked in, then frowned when he noticed something sitting on the nightstand. A little envelope with his name typed on the side.

“The hell?”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia squinted past the glass, first at him and then at what he was looking at.

"Seems a bit much for someone giving you their number."

Hey, a complete sentence! Still heavily mumbled, though.

[betterthanaplan]

Duke hummed in agreement. "It's too . . . businesslike." He closed his eyes and groaned, then flung himself upright to grab the envelope, collapsing back again after. He opened the envelope.

"I think I might still be drunk."

He wasn't. He hurt too much to still be drunk.

[okteiviakom]

"You're not." First of all, it'd be unfair if he was still drunk and she was so clearly already right in the middle of the hangover phase. "What is it?"

[betterthanaplan]

"It's my class assignment for next semester." Duke flapped the paper at him. "What the fuck is bird haberdashery?"

[okteiviakom]

"I don't know," Octavia replied. Dryly, because it was the best she could do right now.

She finally lowered the glass from her face, though.

[betterthanaplan]

Duke sighed, staring up at the skylight. "This is because I had them punch the moose."

[okteiviakom]

"... You had who do what?"

[betterthanaplan]

"Rosa's class, when I was filling in. I had them fight the office moose." He flapped the paper again. "Never cross a moose."