Post by Luca Wolfraine on Sept 19, 2010 6:26:12 GMT -5
Ugh... My head kills...
Luca lay flat on his back, staring up at the motel room ceiling which seemed to writhe and swirl before his very eyes. The way the young hunter figured it, the unexpected phenomonon could be the result of one of three things:
1. Something inside him had cracked and he really, truly was losing his marbles
2. Some strange wriggling creature was possessing what appeared to be a dirty beige ceiling
3. Or, more probable, he'd consumed far more alcohol than his body could handle and was completely smashed.
Luca decided to go with option two. It was more fun, and less responsibility. Turning away from the surreal sight, he closed his eyes...
God knows how many minutes later - or was it hours? - his phone went off, shrill and demanding, aggravating his horrendous migraine and sitting just out of swatting range. Reluctantly Luca sat up, eyes slitted from the throbbing pain in his temples, and picked up the mobile.
"Hello? Luca, you there?"
He hung up, his intention having been more to shut the damn thing up than actually answer whoever was calling him. Knowing the identity of said caller, though...
The phone rang again. Luca winced, and answered, bracing himself for the verbal onslaught.
"Yeah, what is it?"
"You're smashed." It wasn't a question. Damn Rachel and her perceptiveness. Luca sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes after a quick glance at the ceiling. Definitely no wriggling creature there.
God, he felt like crap.
"... Maybe. Probably. It's not of import. Why are you calling?"
"You're an idiot. Take some painkillers, ingest something decent and non-alcoholic, and get here ASAP. I've got some important info for your sorry ass."
"Info? What kind?" He perked up considerably.
For the past few days he'd been roaming randomly, lightening pockets and weighing down his own wherever possible, hanging out in bars and roadhouses. It had been a while since his last hunt, and quite frankly he was getting bored. Hopefully whatever Rae was talking about was out of county; there were a few disgruntled losers keeping an eye out for a chance at retribution, and Luca was sick of laying low.
Within minutes it was all arranged. Luca showered, threw on his usual attire - jeans, shirt, black leather jacket, sneakers, sunglasses - took some painkillers, then grabbed his bag and went to check out. Due to his hangover-induced sleep-in keeping him in bed until half twelve in the afternoon, he had to pay for an extra day.
Ah, well... It's not like I can't afford it. Still, I think I'll stave off from heavyweight drinking from now on. It's not friggin' worth the hassle.
First stop: Coffee. Luca drove just down the road, parked, and slipped into the nearest diner. Right now, all he desired was a decent breakfast and a strong dose of caffeine. The young waitress looked at him speculatively, but otherwise things went smoothly enough; thank God he had the sunglasses on, because his stash of contact lenses were in the car still.
"Cheers," he flashed her a brief crooked smile upon her return with his ordered food and brew of aromatic black coffee, and she smiled back, eyes casting downwards and cheeks pinking up in slight embarressment, before scurrying away.
Luca sat back, sipped his coffee, and mused thoughtfully over what his next course of action should be.