Jan. 7th, 2012

tayastorm: (Coffee)
He decided not to check the others. It wouldn't be so bad if some of them had things left in them, but if they were all empty it would be one creepy factor too many. Better to leave the cat in the box and let someone else find out.

Rummaging very carefully through the clutter, he found a pair of clean jeans that were snug but good enough, his black jacket and boots remarkably clean considering, but no shirt he'd be seen dead in. Or alive, more importantly. Sparkles were for girls and vampires, and he was neither. If he'd spent the last however long with a vampire it would at least explain the weird hickeys. Not that something like that really needed any sort of special explanation with him, but it would be more fun.

Traffic cone under one arm, he left the bedroom in search of caffeine.

The rest of the apartment consisted of an open plan kitchen and lounge room, both of which shared a similar state of chaos to the bedroom, though not as bad. Not so much less chaos, just not as much to make chaos with. Probably said a lot about whoever lived here, but Nathaniel didn't care. Made it a lot easier to find the coffee - instant - and a mug with no handle. The contents in the fridge at least had been spared the chaos, and the milk was in date, so the coffee wasn't a complete disaster. Even without painkillers the coffee made his head a much more pleasant place to be.

Caffeination achieved, he hunted around the room, quickly finding a phone and a clock with the date conveniently displayed.


He stared at it for a long moment before putting it back. He hadn't known they even made clocks that could display a year like 9999. An error maybe, or a practical joke. If the day was right though, it meant he'd managed to lose a full week to his drunken escapades. Suddenly the traffic cone made more sense. The fact that he wasn't in jail or hospital was more baffling though. Not that he was complaining or anything, but if he could work that out it would make future adventures so much more fun.

The phone was less use. It worked well enough, but that didn't help at all when no one answered. He left messages with promises to call again and letting them know he didn't have his phone - not mentioning that he didn't know where it even was. His sister had bought it for him and vowed at great length that if he lost it she would take it out of his hide. She'd been wielding a knife at the time, so he was inclined to think she really meant it. Sometimes he thought she'd become a surgeon just so she could make threats like that and be believed.


tayastorm: (Default)

April 2012

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