| Hanging Over [closed to Genma & Raidou] | [Oct. 13th, 2008|06:05 pm] |
Takes place in mid-February, the day after Winner Picks Dinner
When Genma woke up for the first time, he was still drunk. He managed to get himself and his pot of nastiness to the bathroom, where he pissed out a good quart of converted alcohol, and poured away the puke. Then he flushed the whole mess, rinsed the saucepan, gagged a little but didn't start with the heaves again, and decided his head would probably appreciate it if he tried to get some water and painkillers down now, while he was still slightly buzzed.
He had some vague memories about getting home. Raidou had hauled him through the hallway, he was pretty sure. And must have been the one to provide the conveniently placed puke pot. Also the med kit and glass of water. Genma sat heavily on the edge of his bed and rummaged through the kit until he found a bottle of aspirin. Good enough. He swallowed two with half a glass of water, thought about getting up and looking for his actual hangover remedy, and just didn't make it that far. Aspirin, cold water, still drunk, and definitely hung over combined to give him a clear understanding that he needed to lie down right now.
When he woke again, the sun was slanting blindingly into his room. His head was throbbing violently, he couldn't see out of his left eye, he was mildly curious as to whether he'd managed to fracture his cheek, and he was fairly sure something was rotting in his mouth and sinuses.
Definitely time for that hangover remedy, before the next stage kicked in and he got the runs...
Too late.
Fifteen minutes and a mad dash for the toilet later, he flushed again, washed hands, brushed teeth, found the hangover powder, and took a double dose.
He still couldn't remember getting home. There had been curry, dancing, Raidou had been exceptionally hot, a brawl at the club, running away and then...? Who knew? They weren't in the drunk tank so presumably they hadn't done anything really stupid like piss on the Hokage Monument or assault a visiting daimyou.
His clothes from the night before were rather the worse for wear, though. He stripped and left them in a pile, pulled on fresh jeans and a faded blue sweatshirt that said ANBU in giant capitals across the front. A glance in the mirror told him he looked exactly like he felt: hung the hell over and beaten up. Hadn't they kicked those guys asses?
Then he grabbed two more doses of his powder and went to find Raidou. Because even if he wasn't in as bad shape as Genma was, he was probably hurting. |
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