Shift started in a handful of hours, and while Delta could have done with sleeping away most of those and rolling into work a couple of minutes short of being late for the paramedics' ball and all that jazz, she couldn't stay asleep. Couldn't stay asleep and couldn't stay in bed. Part of that had something to do with the tick in the back of her head that signalled an approaching migraine. Since she'd figured her eyes had already turned black – the mirror confirmed this – she decided to make use of the dead bird her neighbours' cat had left outside her door as a present. Its legs were bust and when she picked it up there were entrails left behind, but surprisingly the rest had been quite functional. While she made herself presentable and her eyes turned back to a positively-freaking-adorable shade of brown, she had watched the dead bird fly around the apartment, repeatedly colliding with the walls and furniture. Apparently kitty got its eyes too.
Memo to me: get rid of that after work. Don't just roll into bed like you don't give a shit.
Whether or not she actually remembered was... well, it was irrelevant for now, because it was for later, but the sentiment was there. Or something. There was also the minor clause where she really didn't give a shit; the dead and rotting always got cleared up eventually in her experience and-- Oh, come on, where's my fucking lighter? The zippo was on her nightstand, she remembered that much. The plastic things she kept buying from the goddamn 7-11 were all over the godforsaken place because she hated them and wouldn't use them more than– Ah. Back pocket, as per usual. Still, it was the little fluorescent pink plastic fucker she'd bought when she stole Bianca from work and it was just a matter of pride. Not that it was ever going to succeed in denting Delta's; she'd swap it with some sucker over the bar at some point. Slight of hand and all that. But still. That she currently had to order soft drinks because of work was more likely to deal wounds that would need licking. Preferably by someone tall, dark, handsome and highly unlikely to ever run into her again.
Finishing her first coke of the evening, she turned to leave the bar to light up. Not that she cared whether the patrons wanted her smoking in there or not – she'd smoked in Bianca's 7-11 – but because they were boring. Besides, outside was where she'd be more likely to listen out for vampires and shit; steal herself more time between headaches. Maybe someone'll decide they like me after all and we'll get a stiff tonight. Yeah, she could work with that – but damn, the classy chick with the extra touch of class just really knew how to wave those manners around. Like Delta could talk, but she made no excuses for her own behaviour. “Excuse yourself, kiddo.” She snorted a stream of smoke, smirking slightly. The manner in which she had to tilt her chin up a touch to look at the girl didn't alter her attitude at all. Sometimes the living were fun. Sometimes they were just idiots. “Never know who you're walking into in this town.” Or what, for that matter. And if this girl had knocked her over and caused even the slightest of grazes that drew blood, Delta would have been pissed. Which might have made the night more interesting or it could have ended up with her being diagnosed with a rare blood condition. Whatever, it wasn't like she'd know now.