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writing_shadowsPenny Dreadful woke up that morning on top of her bedclothes, still wearing her coat and boots. She blearily prised open her aching eyes, and realised in fairly short order that there were several things that were wrong.
The first thing that was wrong was the fact that she'd slept at all. She had a great deal of work to do, and by wasting all that time in the pub yesterday evening she'd fallen behind.
The second thing that was wrong was the fact that she seemed to have fallen asleep on top of her phone, and it was currently stuck to her cheek.
The third and most pressing thing that was wrong was her head. It felt as though someone had whacked it repeatedly with an iron mallet before somehow managing to magically suck all the moisture from her body.
Penny sat up on her bed, carefully and slowly lest her surprisingly weighty head should suddenly decide to topple from her aching shoulders. Wincing she peeled the disconcertingly moist iPhone from the side of her face and squinted at it through unfocussed eyes. It was still turned on, and the screen bore a text message that said nothing but: “Water and Asprin. -A.” Penny frowned in confusion and then groaned in sudden realisation as the night before came flooding back to her.
Still, though, whatever else had happened it was good advice. She staggered from her bedroom and downstairs into the kitchen, hoping against hope that none of the various others who lived in the house would choose this moment to come and bother her. Pint glass of water, two asprin - no, fuck that, four asprin. Why the hell had she drunk so much in that bloody hob pub last night?
“I'm real glad we got a chance to meet.”
“So am I. Good to have someone else with a sound head on her shoulders about the place.”
“That is entirely also what I meant”, the barmaid had replied, with a lopsided smile.
Lord, it had been a while since Penny'd had a hangover this bad. She wished Gehenna were still living there, ready with the Spring magic that she knew would clear her head and let her get on with her work. There was a great deal of work to do. There was always a great deal of work to do. Mon Plaisir's brain, that was the main thing - Penny couldn't possibly risk something terrible happening again like it had on Saturday - but there was plenty else going on, too. As she sipped her water she realised, much to her surprise, that she sort of wanted to eat breakfast.
“Does he not know you're gay?”, she'd asked, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. “Or is he one of these 'la la la, I'm not listening' fuckers? ... Yeah, I know the type. 'What you really need is a good seeing-to, love, that'll straighten you out'.” And she'd rolled her eyes, all down-to-earth disdain and comfortable contempt.
The toaster popped and after a moment's hesitation Penny added a little butter and marmite to it instead of having it plain as she usually did. She'd noticed, just this past few days, just this week, that suddenly there were a few tastes she almost enjoyed. It was still the easiest thing in the world to forget, to go without, to concentrate on work or worry instead - but for the first time in a long, long while there were times when she didn't want to. Bloody Tor. Penny hadn't expected him to actually get through to her.
“Did you want me to call you a taxi or something? I mean, cute as you are drunk, there are a right bunch of twats around here and good conversation's hard to fuckin' come by.”
Penny sighed and finished off her breakfast. She'd go up to the workshop now, get started on the day's business, struggle through the hangover without magical assistance. But soon enough, she knew, she was going to have to actually consciously think about Aggie Stolts.
The first thing that was wrong was the fact that she'd slept at all. She had a great deal of work to do, and by wasting all that time in the pub yesterday evening she'd fallen behind.
The second thing that was wrong was the fact that she seemed to have fallen asleep on top of her phone, and it was currently stuck to her cheek.
The third and most pressing thing that was wrong was her head. It felt as though someone had whacked it repeatedly with an iron mallet before somehow managing to magically suck all the moisture from her body.
Penny sat up on her bed, carefully and slowly lest her surprisingly weighty head should suddenly decide to topple from her aching shoulders. Wincing she peeled the disconcertingly moist iPhone from the side of her face and squinted at it through unfocussed eyes. It was still turned on, and the screen bore a text message that said nothing but: “Water and Asprin. -A.” Penny frowned in confusion and then groaned in sudden realisation as the night before came flooding back to her.
Still, though, whatever else had happened it was good advice. She staggered from her bedroom and downstairs into the kitchen, hoping against hope that none of the various others who lived in the house would choose this moment to come and bother her. Pint glass of water, two asprin - no, fuck that, four asprin. Why the hell had she drunk so much in that bloody hob pub last night?
“I'm real glad we got a chance to meet.”
“So am I. Good to have someone else with a sound head on her shoulders about the place.”
“That is entirely also what I meant”, the barmaid had replied, with a lopsided smile.
Lord, it had been a while since Penny'd had a hangover this bad. She wished Gehenna were still living there, ready with the Spring magic that she knew would clear her head and let her get on with her work. There was a great deal of work to do. There was always a great deal of work to do. Mon Plaisir's brain, that was the main thing - Penny couldn't possibly risk something terrible happening again like it had on Saturday - but there was plenty else going on, too. As she sipped her water she realised, much to her surprise, that she sort of wanted to eat breakfast.
“Does he not know you're gay?”, she'd asked, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. “Or is he one of these 'la la la, I'm not listening' fuckers? ... Yeah, I know the type. 'What you really need is a good seeing-to, love, that'll straighten you out'.” And she'd rolled her eyes, all down-to-earth disdain and comfortable contempt.
The toaster popped and after a moment's hesitation Penny added a little butter and marmite to it instead of having it plain as she usually did. She'd noticed, just this past few days, just this week, that suddenly there were a few tastes she almost enjoyed. It was still the easiest thing in the world to forget, to go without, to concentrate on work or worry instead - but for the first time in a long, long while there were times when she didn't want to. Bloody Tor. Penny hadn't expected him to actually get through to her.
“Did you want me to call you a taxi or something? I mean, cute as you are drunk, there are a right bunch of twats around here and good conversation's hard to fuckin' come by.”
Penny sighed and finished off her breakfast. She'd go up to the workshop now, get started on the day's business, struggle through the hangover without magical assistance. But soon enough, she knew, she was going to have to actually consciously think about Aggie Stolts.
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