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

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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.]

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Duke leaned in in return. "And . . . who says I'm nice?"

Octavia tilted her head, and aimed for an innocent tone. "No one." Not in the context of this particular bit of nonsense, anyway! "Just suggested you might wanna try it."

Duke made a show of considering, then shook his head. "Nahhhh. Be bad for my reputation."

"Thought being nice was supposed to pay off in this time," Octavia said. "Maybe it's just what they tell the kids."

Oh well, right?

She watched him for a second longer, then reached up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, because she felt like it. And didn't yet feel the kneejerk need to stomp on that urge.

"I think I'll think that over while I go get my clothes."

Duke blinked at the kiss, but didn't pull away. "Yeah. Um. You do that. Let me know what you decide."

The L word getting tossed around, and now casual cheek kisses. He was in way over his head here.

Well.

Octavia hadn't seen him blinking, and he hadn't pulled away, but there was still something about that reply that made Octavia sort of... eye him, a little, as she pulled back.

"Right," she said.

Duke pulled up a smile. "Go grab your clothes. And the combo or something. Gotta get those braids in."

Another second passed before Octavia nodded.

"Moba," she murmured as she turned, and didn't wait to see whether he caught how it sounded like 'my bad' - or if he'd caught it at all.

Just headed back for his bedroom.

Duke assumed the same thing he usually did when she muttered Trig he didn't know yet. That she was cursing.

He turned to the dishes while she got her stuff together. And get some hair of the dog while he was at it.

Octavia got the comb, and some extra hair ties that she put around her wrist (the one without the shark).

But when she grabbed her clothes, a folded-up piece of paper fell from the back pocket of her pants and fluttered onto the floor.

She almost didn't notice. But only almost, so she picked it up and looked it over: nothing much on it. Just the name Thea and a phone number, both scrawled in a hurry, by the looks of it.

Huh.

Octavia was still flipping it over between her fingers when she returned to Duke. "Good thing you keep your hair long, too," she said, a little distractedly. "Wouldn't be as many hair ties otherwise, I guess."

"Not nearly as many hair ties," Duke agreed, looking over. He nodded to the paper. "What've you got there?"

Octavia flipped it over one more time, then held it up so he'd see.

"It was in my pocket."

Duke leaned in a little to read what it said, then grinned. "Nice. Those club girls really liked you."

Octavia snorted, although it was very quiet. She brought her hand down and looked at the note again. "I'm not sure I remember which one Thea was," she admitted, though she didn't expect that to be surprising. "Maybe the one with the curls."

She seemed to remember the one with the curls somehow smiling at her even more than the rest, anyway.

"You could call her and find out," Duke said. "But those kinds of conversations can be . . . very awkward. 'Hey, you left me your number last night, who are you again?' Good way to get slapped."

Octavia folded the paper back up.

"I think I'm okay not knowing."

"Fair enough. Still, that's a compliment. You had fun, and you were fun."

The corners of Octavia's mouth ticked upwards, but it was very faint. "Seems best to let that be someone's entire impression of me."

Still, she tucked the note under her bracelet. The cord would keep it there until she had pockets again.

Then she sighed. "So. Laundry?"

"Laundry," Duke said, holding his hands out. "I got it. You can get comfortable while I start the load."

If Octavia was honest, she felt kind of weird about anyone but Bellamy handling something like this for her.

But, that wasn't going to stop her handing the bundle of clothes over. "Mochof."

If she'd mentioned that out loud, he'd point out that his tiny washer was rather temperamental, making it easier for him to just handle it himself.

"Pro," he said with a little shrug and smile. "Be right back."

"I'll be here."

Well.

She was practically already wandering towards the couch. 'Here' was relative, he knew what she meant.

He did. And if she'd waited exactly where she was, that'd be weird.

Polly Lobster hopped up onto the back of the couch near her and settled in with a little burble. The porgs pretty much had the run of the ship these days, though they tended to steer clear of the bedrooms.

"Heya, strikon," Octavia said to the porg, settling in, halfway curled up. "Yu bilaik kru ste tripi?"

Yeah, she'd still be softly talking in Trig to Polly Lobster when Duke got back. It was just a thing she did.

Duke paused in the doorway as he came back in, taking a moment to just watch her relax. She terrified him in so many ways, but he knew himself well enough to know there was no turning back now. One of them was going to end up wrecking the other, or life was going to do it for them. Maybe, if they were very lucky, they'd get at least another New Years out of this first.

He straightened from his lean. "This lady bothering you, Polly?"

Polly chewed on his foot.

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