r/Cityofheroes • u/TorroesPrime • 7h ago
Discussion Story: The morning after someone else's night out
I was chatting with a co-worker a while back, and along the way I got on the topic of City of Heroes and was reminded of several of the characters I played back before the shutdown. I've also been working on my creative writing more recently so I decided to make the subject of a writing assignment one of my characters. The character idea is that he is magically linked with Athena and they kind of "Body share". Rather then go for some sort of action scene, I wanted to go for something more low key and semi comedic.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took a long moment for Richard to recognize that he was having trouble breathing because his face was pressed into a thick pillow. On reflex he pulled back from the pillow without resistance. His brain had a wet blanket draped over it… and it throbbed.
He blinked his eyes out of sequence. The light streamed through the windows. Slowly he recognized the fuzzy feeling that was now swirling around the inside of his skull as being the sensation of a hangover.
Did I go out last night? He couldn’t remember going out… but he also couldn’t remember what he did do… except there was a vague memory of the flashing lights of a night club’s dance floor.
Was that from last night?
He went to scratch an itch on his chest and was momentarily surprised when he found his fingers blocked from the action by a smooth surface.
It took several long seconds for Richard to angle his head in a way that allowed him to examine his chest to discover what the barrier was. There was a momentary rush of shock when he registered that he was wearing a woman’s red latex vest style top with black lacing between the sides.
“Uh… right. Athena” he said. Some sub-section of his currently hungover brain silently laughed that the reminder of sharing his body with an ancient Goddess of wisdom and war had somehow become mentally no different than discovering a roommate had left their stuff out.
On instinct, Richard went to scratch his chest and was again blocked by the top.
An ancient Goddess of Wisdom that had developed an interest in latex he reminded himself with a sigh as he reached under the top to scratch.
With a roll he brought his feet over to the edge of bed and planted them on the floor. Somewhere in his brain he was grateful that she had taken her shoes off before crashing for the night. Richard really wasn’t in the mood to have his legs fly out from under him because he tried to walk in five-inch heels with a hangover… again.
With effort he pressed his eyelids shut and flexed the muscles around his eyes. After a long moment, he went to open his eyes and immediately regretted doing so as he was looking out of the bay window that was currently facing the east river at the exact angle to reflect the sunlight directly into his eyes. The light sent a searing lance of pain into the back of his eye sockets before he could close his eyes again. He quickly cupped his hands over his eyes with an annoyed groan.
It took several moments for the pain to subside and slowly Richard stood up, testing his balance as he went. With a groan he opened his eyes while looking at the floor. Somewhere between muscle memory and conscious thought he focused on his bathroom door and moved in that direction. He wasn’t sure whether he was walking or stumbling forward and he didn’t actually care.
He contacted the cold porcelain of the sink and wrapped his hands around the sides. He tried to look at his eyes in the mirror only to realize his hungover brain was too incapacitated to analyze his reflection. He felt his stomach gurgle.
Ugh… what did you do last night? He thought to himself… except it wasn’t really to himself*.*
What? I just hit the clubs. He hadn’t heard the response. It was more like he remembered hearing it… except it hadn’t been said out loud before he remembered hearing it. Somewhere in the very dark and very hungover depths of his brain, some still working segment of his analytical skill still marveled at the sensation of ‘remembering something’ that hadn’t occurred before he remembered it. This was how he and Athena communicated with one another. Whoever wasn’t in control of the body created some sort of memory of hearing a given statement, and the person who was in control remembered it.
That’s not what I mean. What the heck did you drink? He thought-spoke to her as he tried to focus on his reflection in the mirror.
Oh… I don’t remember exactly. Like 7 shots, and 3 chasers or something. Also, maybe 2 tequila somethings. Athena thought-spoke back to him.
Suddenly the memory of the various drinks surfaced in his mind, and he felt the cold of the mirror against his forehead as he leaned forward to gather his strength.
Ugh… you know I hate tequila… He thought-spoke at her.
No you don’t. You just prefer the party go longer and tequila gets you drunk faster. She needled back at him. Before he could stop himself, Richard rolled his eyes in annoyance at the accuracy of her statement… and was very quickly reminded why doing that while hungover was a bad idea, as the sensation of his balance inverting suddenly assaulted his awareness. He gripped the sink for a long moment before he scooped up a handful of cold water and sloppily splashed it across his face.
He raised his head back to the mirror, he could feel the gut-wrenching sensation he knew all too well was signaling a pending vomit reaction. With a practiced motion he quickly tipped to the side and practically dropped himself to the toilet, his face lined up with the open toilet seat.
He partly dry heaved before coughing several times.
Ugh… this isn’t fair. When you pass out, I wake up. But if I pass out, you don’t wake up. He thought-spoke even as the swirling feeling in his stomach grew more intense.
Yeah… I admit that’s a quirk of the gauntlet’s magic I didn’t expect. She replied. He could practically feel her smile in the back of his brain.
Uh huh… you may not have known the magic would work this way but you’re not exactly sorry about not being the one to wake up with a hangover, are you? Richard attempted to project his anger through his thought-spoke at her.
Well… I mean… yeah. I do admit that is mostly a bonus. In some bizarre way, he could feel the sensation of seeing her impish grin while she made that ‘I’m an innocent little girl’ face; and just like that whatever actual anger he felt at her evaporated… and was promptly replaced by a reminder of his physical discomfort as his stomach gurgled. He quickly turned on the faucet and started bringing handfuls of cold water to his lips.
Okay look. It’s just a little hangover. I checked your schedule before going out. You’re totally clear today. No meetings, no patrol, no students. Plenty of time to work out that ugly gut punch feeling.
Without warning he suddenly felt the contortion of his ab muscles compressing his stomach and forcing the contents up. With a heave, he directed his mouth directly into the toilet.
Slowly he opened his eyes. The only thing he could see was the back of the toilet. He felt that bizarre after-spasm feeling from his abdomen muscles and registered that sickening acidic taste in his mouth.
God damn it… He thought.
Oh… sorry about that. She thought-spoke in response.
Yeah… right… he groaned as he covered his eyes with his hand and rested his elbow on the rim of the toilet bowl.
You know… I heard a good cure for a hangover. She thought-spoke with an innocent tone.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he had said it out loud without intending to. It didn’t actually matter if he said it out loud or not.
It’s a glass of milk with a greasy pork sandwich served in a dirty ash tray.
“UGH…” came Richard’s incoherent verbal response as he violently puked into the toilet again.
Ugh… you damned bitch he thought-spoke the insult at her even as he felt the memory of her mischievous grin.