Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2020-01-01 05:22 pm
Entry tags:
The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Wednesday... Morning?
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.]
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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Oh well.
Had to just get by with the soft snort for the second thing. "Because I know so much about, what? Making suits for birds?"
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He was pretty sure it wasn't suits.
"Guess this means I have to hit the welcome picnic this weekend, huh."
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She was pretty sure she hadn't mentioned the seamstress thing before, either.
"Anyway. I guess I might drop by the picnic for the food."
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She said, while waiting for her free breakfast.
She wasn't as food-motivated as Lucy, sure, but food was food.
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They hadn't even tried to make her a student, those first couple of times.
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The idea of it felt somehow a little too close to leading a group of people, and that wasn't a role she ever saw herself in.
Not voluntarily, anyway.
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If throwing Trig at him in conversation and waiting for him to catch up could be called 'teaching'.
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She didn't think that counted for 'teaching' the way the school would've wanted her to do, no.
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Shit. Was that why the moose had given him a nonsense class? Because he didn't teach properly?
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Okay, Octavia had to be feeling better when the snarky streak was bubbling up like that.
(Didn't mean she didn't feel like that last part was crucial.)
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Barely.
"Well, that first part sounds like important info. Clearly the moose knew better than you."
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He said it with irony, but -- yeah. There was definitely a not insignificant part of Duke that believed he was only worth anything when he was taking care of someone else. No matter how hard he'd fought that mindset since leaving Haven.
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One of those was a much bigger thing than the other two.
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"We can do some laundry before you head out too," Duke offered, seeing her look as he set about prepping for omelets. "No dryer, but it looks like there's enough sun that it shouldn't take too long for your clothes to dry."
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"Sure," Octavia replied, fidgeting a little with the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing, now that she'd drawn her own attention to it. "I'm not in a rush. And everything smells like last night."
Washing her clothes meant less to her than the convenient excuse to stick around, though.
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She looked extremely cute in his shirt. But with her hair up in just a ponytail, she hardly looked like herself. "Maybe, uh. I can give a shot at braiding your hair while they dry? You know, return that favor from awhile back."
He wasn't asking just to return a favor. It'd been a very sweet, intimate thing she'd done, and he wanted to see what that felt like from the other direction.
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