WHO: Kiki, Peter, and Lena WHAT: Some...discussing...of the previous night WHEN: After the fables plotline, and after Kiki emails Vlad WHERE: #1104 RATING: Bad language, slander, childish behavior, chain smoking.
On one level, emailing Vlad made her feel better; but on another level, Kiki still felt achy, hungry, hung over, tired, sore, and really fucking thirsty. With a pathetic moan, she kicked off the covers to the bed, meditating on the hideous Betsey Johnson knock off from before. If Vlad hadn't gotten her that dress, then who had?
With another moan -- louder this time, since Lena didn't respond -- Kiki slid out of bed and stomped around a bit, dressing slowly. "Lena! Le-e-ena!" Huffing dramatically, she shuffled from the guest bedroom, nearly tripping over Quincey, who yipped in surprise.
"Peter? Could you make me an omelet?" Wilting from the exertion of moving, she flung herself onto the couch and fished around in the pocket of her jersey tunic, searching for her cigarettes. "I feel fucking horrible," she announced to the room, adding a hint of tremble to her voice. If she was truly alone, she was going to get dressed and go storm Vlad's apartment. She had new boots that needed breaking in.