The Morning After - Steampunk

[rebel-wulf.livejournal.com]

This is set the morning after Worthy and Rosie (And the rescue party) return from the adventure

Steampunk blearily flicked the little device in his hand, trying to coax fire from it. The cheap neon green lighter he'd bought from a newsagents was refusing to work, so in annoyance he threw it sideways from the roof of the tavern, sending it skittering off into the hedge. "Cunt" He muttered to himself quietly and took the cigar previously clenched between his teeth out of his mouth. Staring blankly at it for a little while he realised he had forgotten to cut the end off, shifting his thumb into a short sharp claw and clipped off the tip in a quick, practised motion. "Matches" He muttered to himself and started patting himself down dumbly, not realising his pockets were in fact, empty.
     His head was swimming, throbbing, throwing a small party behind his eyes and many other stupid analogies for being hung over. He slid the cigar back into his mouth and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to get some feeling that wasnt agony back into his metallic flesh. He had drunk a lot last night, he was sure. He wasn't exactly the worlds most beer-resistant man, but it was hard to stop himself when he was putting on a show. "I wanna fucking light" He said to himself sullenly, shoeless feet dangling over the edge of the roof as he laid back on the tiling. He felt tiny feet walk across his stomach and reached down to lift up the tiny salamander that had deposited itself there. He raised it up to his face and squeezed it slightly in the way he knew annoyed it just enough to blow tiny embers out. Runt would forgive him later for it... All told, Steam was generally a lot gentler then Salamanders themselves would be.
     Using the tiny hedgebeasts breath to light his cigar, he breathed in slowly and let the nicotene do its work. He closed his eyes and put Runt back down somewhere that wasnt 'Over the edge of the roof' and then put his arms underneath his head to act as pillows, briefly regretting moving too quickly as his head suddenly screamed its disobedience. He swore to himself, not really bothering to keep it quiet since Worthy was still curled up in bed recovering.
     He was glad they had both come back safe. Until Aidan had started sowing doubt into his mind he had no reason to be worried for either of the girls, but as he let the rescue party head off so he could attain the moral highground when they got back, his mind had started to wander. But... yeah. He was glad they were both safe. He would have to pull Rosie aside with a notebook and write down what they had done together while there in order to write it up in a song... once his head had stopped screaming, that is. He watched the curls of smoke dissapear into the crisp morning air in the hedge, the sun rising slowly as if in agreement that hangovers were in fact the work of the devil.
     He took the cigar out of his mouth again slowly to get a breath of fresh air as he thought back to last night. His forearms were still cut up from Worthy's claws overnight, nothing that would scar permenantly but they had been enough to wake him up into a drunken confusion as to why exactly it was she was apparantly trying to tear the metallic skin from his arm. He thought to himself that he should sort himself out a goblin fruit to heal those up before Worthy noticed them and got weird about it. As if she wasnt going to be weirded out enough after sleeping in the same bed together all night. He didn't hold it against her though - An ogre like her was going to have violent and nasty dreams and women did have a tendancy to get a bit scratchy. He was just glad she hadn't decided to bite.
     "She's going to wake up in an hour or so 'ungry. Jesus christ on a bike i am not in the right state of hungover to sort out breakfast in bed." He grumbled to himself and slowly pulled himself upright into a sitting position. "Then again i'm also not in the right state of hungover to not realise that i'm going to be missing several key organs if the lady doesnt wake up with something to shove down her throat within arms reach" He said to Runt, then stood up with a dirty grin on his face.
     "Heh... Throat"