http://hyperlethality.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] hyperlethality.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] singularityderp2011-05-06 07:34 pm
Entry tags:

so there was this once drunk party last night...

THE MORNING AFTER MEME

 
Last night was great. You drank, you gambled, you ran around naked, you hooked up with a girl/guy or three-- too bad you can't remember it. Waking up in a hotel bed isn't so bad but...
Who is this person next to you?
You know how it is, folks!

1. Post with your character.
2. Tag other people and try and piece the night together or not. Up to you.
3. Anything allowed so long as muns are cool with it.
4. Profit!

[identity profile] cmdr-renegade.livejournal.com 2011-05-08 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
[If she were less incoherently irritated and more coordinated she'd have set about wiping that smile off his face. As it was, she'd just decided that venturing for more water was a solid plan and that required most of her focus.]


It might surprise you to hear this, but I've been hungover before, Thane. Many times, in fact.


[To prove her point, or simply punctuate her statement, Shepard swung her legs over the edge of the bed and went about pulling her pants on. She had solid motor control, but the way her vision was jerking around reminded her of the good'ol'days in the Mako. It was less fun without the mounted turret and rocket thrusters.

She pulled the civvies over her hips and stood up like it was just any other day. Standing was a new, horrible adventure and with it came glorious headrush and inevitable spike of pounding in her skull.

She got the feeling she'd be bitter at Thane all day. Fucking hangover-proofed drell.]



And unless it's drell for 'in light of your migraine, disregard my previous sanctimonious statement,' I don't care. Translator standard. [At least until she could look it up and gauge just how hard to hit him in response.

It wasn't that she thought he was lying, but Thane had a very...creative relationship with language. 'Not an insult' didn't mean it wasn't a colloquialism that endearingly referred to her as a pantywaist or something similar.]

[identity profile] eighttotwelve.livejournal.com 2011-05-08 10:50 am (UTC)(link)
Somehow, the sensation of surprise does not quite strike me, what with our occasional bar visits.

[Shepard's not quite a lush, but she's not shy about alcohol either.

He folds his arms, watching her carefully. Even if she didn't want help, he could provide it easily if needed. Though it seems she's caring for herself just fine.

As Shepards will do, he expects.

Thane sets about to locate his boots before attempting to retrieve his jacket.
]

If you insist, then I will respect your preference.

[He can mentally refer to her as he pleases, though. Thane wouldn't figure she would find the definition all that flattering at any rate; she is practical and he respects that. But it means something to him, and that is all.]

LJ. Stop eating these. B( Also those bar trips are half recon, you know.

[identity profile] cmdr-renegade.livejournal.com 2011-05-10 06:42 am (UTC)(link)
Good.

[And that was the last she intended to comment on it. Odds were good that she wouldn't even remember the word well enough to look it up, anyway, but that was another story. As it was, Shepard had other priorities. Remaining standing, for one, then getting more water, and tracking down her shirt. If she could do all three of these simultaneously, and not vomit in the process, this morning would be a rousing success.]

Must be a record. [Shepard motioned vaguely at the bottles on the table...and the floor around the table, as she turned to locate the sink. On the far blue and burgundy wall (which she suspected was actually the same banal grey as the rest of the station) there was a counter and a sink. Doubtless, it was where Thane had procured the glass and water.]

Feels like I took on a Krogan with only my forehead and some harsh language.

[Judging from the general state of the room, she might have. Despite her mostly questionable balance, Shepard managed to step over the upturned couch and didn't slip on the scattered...were those shower curtain rings? Where was the curtain? No--that took too much thinking. Water.

It took her a while, but she made it to the sink and started in on filling a second glass. Hadn't tripped over her shirt on the way. It was probably somewhere inconvenient. Or, seeing how her morning was going, destroyed.

Well, if she had to walk back shirtless, it would be a good opener for the unpleasant conversation or two she'd have to have.]