o2o

Prompt: Hangover
Characters: Reno & Rude
Series: Final Fantasy VII
O.C: Noah Ryker
Genre: Comedy
Theme Song: N/A
Warnings: Swearing, Substance Abuse
Date: 30th January 2013
Author’s Note: Snippet from a full length story.

So maybe she had practically signed up for being a heartless murderer, but that was okay because the pay was good. And maybe she had more trouble keeping her eyes from wandering than usual, but that was okay too because most of the guys she looked at were too dumb to notice. Why, even the local lads trying to get a peek at her through her bedroom window when she was changing was still okay, because she was in decent physical condition with all the work put her way. That brat Shinra kept his puppets busy, after all.

What wasn’t okay though was the fact that she was still in Sector 7, in the same rotting apartment with half dead furnishings. That was definitely not okay. She was now officially a Turk: Someone of power and Hell, she even had cash. But, even with money, that makes no difference in that place as everyone is in the same shitty boat and there isn’t a single damn pent house in sight unless you travel, oh, I don’t know…Thousands of meters into the stinking air.

With this depressing notion firmly planted in her mind, there was only one thing to do. It was her favourite pass-time regardless of her situation. It had been for a long while, but now it seemed like an especially appropriate time. Blistered feet hobbled across the extensive twenty by ten foot open space that housed both her sitting room and kitchen as she made straight for the fridge. An annoying creak faded into nothingness as the grey, dented metal door was pulled open. Intently inspecting the contents, a dull sigh escaped full lips. There was a lonely egg, a bell pepper - she had no idea how that got there - she didn’t even eat peppers…and then the rest of the space was occupied by a varied assortment of mixers.

Scratching the disorganized mop of pearlescent white hair, she made a note to at least go shopping for food every once I a while, but even that sensible, life-saving thought was soon pushed away when she reached for a litre bottle of energy drink to go with the alcohol that she was about to have. As the young woman straightened up her hip cracked, making her stagger slightly. Eyes bulging, she placed a hand on the spot and made a strangled noise. ‘Don’t give out on me yet; I’m only twenty two!’

It had been four hours and our anti-heroine was already on her way to numbness. Sprawled on the raggedy sofa facing the window in her underwear and a tank top, a half empty glass hung loosely in one hand and the other ran over her flushed face out of boredom. ‘It’s always the same…’ Even the words of her inner self sounded sloshed as they reminded the body.

It was like having a pager or personal computer in her head - It was great. No matter how drunk she got, there was always that familiar, automated drone that notified her to go to bed and basically told her to stop being an alcoholic. When she got to this stage, not far off being comatose, she thought of herself as some kind of artificial intelligence; her body being the product of some mad scientists experiment, while the other part of her that only she could hear would be likened to that of a super chip that held all the answers. Much to her own surprise, she always managed obey the commands of this 'super chip'.

Placing the glass on the floor beside her seat, she heaved herself up. After a brief moment of swaying with her arms out in front - just in case she wanted to fall on her face like she had done on more than a handful of occasions - she finally managed catch her balance.

The usual muted violet eyes that shined had gained a glassy effect, but this didn’t stop Noah from stomping unsteadily towards her bedroom. Misjudging the distance, the inebriated girl’s shoulder slammed into the door surround, shortly followed by the edge of her forehead as she gripped onto the frame in order not to collapse completely. “Fuckin’ door…Always movin’…” The curse fell from her mouth and she continued like she meant to go on. After the tiresome distance of a few yards, her bed was now in reach. Not bothering to change into nightwear, the Turk held her arms above her head before letting her body flop forward onto the thin mattress. The springs let out an audible crunch under what little bounce it allowed and Noah grunted. With her feet hanging off one side of the bed and her arms over the other side, the view of the crumpled covers blurred into the rest of her dizziness. She wasn’t even sure if her eyes were still open or not anymore.

Banging. That’s what she heard, and in more than one sense. Both her head and another external nuisance collaborated in order to drag the hungover girl from her restless sleep. With all the courage she could muster she scouted around for what it could be through her burning left eye without so much as moving from her sprawled position. Waking up with the aftershocks of booze from the previous night was not uncommon. In fact, it was the norm. The trouble was figuring out when it had started.

“No-Ah!” The muffled cry made the girl stupidly jolt up right. Holding her head and wincing, she wretched at the churning in her empty stomach. “No-Ahhhh!” Again, her name was called, only this time it was louder and more irritating.

Baring with the discomfort, the tenant carefully picked herself up and shuffled over to the bedroom doorway. From this distance, she could hear that the commotion was actually coming from outside of her front door. Narrowing her eyes that refused to focus, she stalked over to the barrier that separated her and whatever was on the other side. As stealth-like as one can be in such a state, Noah glided over and pressed her ear against the wood in order to listen in on whatever kind of retard was disturbing her on her day off.

“No-A-” The addressed swung open the door and glared down the two men that jumped back in fright. “…Ahhh~” The redhead’s wailing fizzled at the appearance of the person he was after. “It’s Saturday!”

“It’s not.”

If Reno wasn’t absolutely positive that it was Saturday, then the way the woman had monotonously denied the fact would have made him rethink his statement.

“You look…Rough.” Rude cleared his throat and looked away from the barely dressed body.

The same unamused expression remained unfaltering on her pasty face. “Well thanks for that. If you came to tell me what I already guessed then you’re already done and can go.” Pushing the door closed, a boot from the other side jammed in the doorway before it could be shut properly.

“Don’t be mean, Noah! We’ve come to play.” Clawing at the air through the small gap he had made for himself, the redhead tried to wriggled through.

An ashen eyebrow twitched at the thought. Oh yes, those two invading her living area: one messing with everything he could get his hands on and the other who made little effort to converse while she felt like she’d been hit with a bulldozer sounded like an absolutely lovely idea…

Updated: 6th February 2018 – 16:17