Marisa Kirisame (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blackstarwitch) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-02-02 04:42 pm
blackstarwitch) wrote in towerofanimus2013-02-02 04:42 pm
Anybody wanna join a hungover witch in an enclosed space?
Characters: Hungover Marisa and you!
Setting: Dormitory room 1-07, Elevator, Cafeteria
Format: Prose, but if you want differently, I'm okay with that too.
Summary: Marisa wakes up hungover, grumbles and whines, stumbles into an elevator and then has breakfast.
Warnings: None
Marisa groans, slowly trying to tug open her eyes. Of course they don't respond, not with her pounding headache, throbbing temples and rolling stomach.
Arrgh...That's the last time I challenge an oni to a drinking contest...
She blearily forces herself up, blindly groping over the sheets. Hakkero, hakkero, and jeez, where's her broomstick? Come to think of it, she's wearing something that's way too uncomfortable to be her normal dress.
She pries her gummy eyes open, then takes a double take. White walls, bland architecture...unless the fairies are playing a horrible prank, she's probably gotten into another weird situation. Of course, another stab of pain right through the frontal lobe reminds her that white walls and white lighting do not mix well with hangovers.
Right. First things first, get dressed. She stumbles to the edge of her bed, prying the chest there open with blind fingers. A familiar black and white outfit greets her, complimented by her signature hat. With a groggy glance around to make sure that there's nobody else, she strips, only pausing when her fingers brush a collar around her neck. Strange. Upsetting even. But not important enough to worry about until she gets something to make the room stop spinning.
She reaches into the chest, figuring that if her dress was in there, her broom would be too. However when she opens the chest, she finds not her broom, but a neat little package of it's bristles, and the bare shaft that would have held them.
"Real funny...When I find those fairies, they're toast, ze..." She groans.
At least her hakkero seems to have survived in one peace. For now she leaves the broomstick inside. Probably for the best, she doesn't trust herself to fly in this state.
She stumbles into the hall, groaning softly. Around her, curious people she's never seen before pass in a haze, they're all strangers, and more importantly don't have any hot food to eat, so she pushes past them with eyes carelessly closed.
---
Eventually she bumps into a set of double doors, glaring up at them as if they had personally challenged her to a duel.
"Eh. Lay. Vey. Tar."
The words mean nothing to her, so she rests her aching head on them, only to be surprised when they open, and pained when they drop her into the floor inside. Bitterly muttering to herself, she staggers upright, glancing at the buttons, oh god, the buttons. Too many damn choices. With a shrug, she picks 1, figuring she might as well start there.
---
It seems to take forever, and by the time the doors open again, she's slumped on the side of the elevator, rubbing her temples. Another colorful crowd is on this floor, but more importantly, she can smell food in the distance. Wandering blindly (do they really have to keep everything white here?) she eventually finds herself at a table with a bowl of oatmeal in her hands.
Listlessly, she shoves bite after bite into her hands, and only when she finishes does she feel good enough to take a look around, and to more importantly glance at the scrap of paper that seemed to have fallen into the waistline of her skirt.
"...Gensokyo, destroyed? Hah! As if that old gap hag would allow that."
She snorts, crumpling the letter and tossing it over her shoulder carelessly, leaning back with her hands behind her head.
"Ah well. I'm sure I can just ride it out, ze."
Setting: Dormitory room 1-07, Elevator, Cafeteria
Format: Prose, but if you want differently, I'm okay with that too.
Summary: Marisa wakes up hungover, grumbles and whines, stumbles into an elevator and then has breakfast.
Warnings: None
Marisa groans, slowly trying to tug open her eyes. Of course they don't respond, not with her pounding headache, throbbing temples and rolling stomach.
Arrgh...That's the last time I challenge an oni to a drinking contest...
She blearily forces herself up, blindly groping over the sheets. Hakkero, hakkero, and jeez, where's her broomstick? Come to think of it, she's wearing something that's way too uncomfortable to be her normal dress.
She pries her gummy eyes open, then takes a double take. White walls, bland architecture...unless the fairies are playing a horrible prank, she's probably gotten into another weird situation. Of course, another stab of pain right through the frontal lobe reminds her that white walls and white lighting do not mix well with hangovers.
Right. First things first, get dressed. She stumbles to the edge of her bed, prying the chest there open with blind fingers. A familiar black and white outfit greets her, complimented by her signature hat. With a groggy glance around to make sure that there's nobody else, she strips, only pausing when her fingers brush a collar around her neck. Strange. Upsetting even. But not important enough to worry about until she gets something to make the room stop spinning.
She reaches into the chest, figuring that if her dress was in there, her broom would be too. However when she opens the chest, she finds not her broom, but a neat little package of it's bristles, and the bare shaft that would have held them.
"Real funny...When I find those fairies, they're toast, ze..." She groans.
At least her hakkero seems to have survived in one peace. For now she leaves the broomstick inside. Probably for the best, she doesn't trust herself to fly in this state.
She stumbles into the hall, groaning softly. Around her, curious people she's never seen before pass in a haze, they're all strangers, and more importantly don't have any hot food to eat, so she pushes past them with eyes carelessly closed.
---
Eventually she bumps into a set of double doors, glaring up at them as if they had personally challenged her to a duel.
"Eh. Lay. Vey. Tar."
The words mean nothing to her, so she rests her aching head on them, only to be surprised when they open, and pained when they drop her into the floor inside. Bitterly muttering to herself, she staggers upright, glancing at the buttons, oh god, the buttons. Too many damn choices. With a shrug, she picks 1, figuring she might as well start there.
---
It seems to take forever, and by the time the doors open again, she's slumped on the side of the elevator, rubbing her temples. Another colorful crowd is on this floor, but more importantly, she can smell food in the distance. Wandering blindly (do they really have to keep everything white here?) she eventually finds herself at a table with a bowl of oatmeal in her hands.
Listlessly, she shoves bite after bite into her hands, and only when she finishes does she feel good enough to take a look around, and to more importantly glance at the scrap of paper that seemed to have fallen into the waistline of her skirt.
"...Gensokyo, destroyed? Hah! As if that old gap hag would allow that."
She snorts, crumpling the letter and tossing it over her shoulder carelessly, leaning back with her hands behind her head.
"Ah well. I'm sure I can just ride it out, ze."