"The Bright Light of Morning"

[OdileCondacin 0]

By every god of revelry and feast was Odile hungover.

 

It wasn't just that... vague headache, either. Oh no. Amazingly, she'd woken up an hour earlier than usual -- thank you, spiked punch, for making her sleep patterns wonk -- and had spent the extra hour sprawled somewhere between bed and latrine.

 

Odile hadn't remembered drinking that much. Which was probably a bad sign. No, wait... yes, she did. After the spiked punch (which she swore she didn't have anything to do with) there were the pina coladas, and after the pina coladas, well... there was the whiskey back in her quarters.

 

But she'd deserved it! A whole night being nice to dignitaries, planning the reception, cleaning up after the reception (which she'd insisted upon for good measure, even if it had meant that she'd dropped and broken a few dishes in her... now, stupor wasn't a fair word.

 

On shift in forty minutes. Oh, gods, if she were home, she'd be dragging herself (or be being dragged) to the household altar of B'z'jkytt, to beg for divine wine-related intervention. Then again if she were home, she wouldn't have let her alcohol tolerance slip. Here, when blue, multi-armed things attacked all the time and giant birds pecked at you and Medusa made you be chief o' sci... ughhh, you didn't want to be caught drunk.

 

Odile dropped last night's dress uniform (which was amazingly uncomfortable when worn overnight) into the nearest laundry receptacle. She certainly hoped she'd not be in that any time soon. Then she piled into the 'fresher, slumping as the sonic shower took effect. Didn't seem to do much good, though. She still felt like k'l'n't when she got out.

 

One sloppily assembled uniform, a distinct "Grozit" at the light intensity, and a disturbingly... intense turbo-ride later, Odile arrived in Science.

 

Gods.

 

This was not going to be a fun day.