Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2022 16:12:02 GMT
She had only been in Lyon for two days. But it was still two days too long. She had been on her way back to London when she actually stopped and looked down at her Forearm and realised how dangerously close it was to the full moon. Of course she had been feeling like death warmed up, but no more so than usual.
Even if it was worse than usual, she didn't stop to notice it. C'est la vie as the French would say.
Life on the run was bad enough, she didn't stop to think about things like that too deeply. It was easier to put how woeful she was feeling down to a bad nights sleep or the likes. Easier to bottle it up and live in denial. Except for the immediate days pre full-moon. In the early days, back when she was much younger, the aches and spasms were always made better with the Wolfsbane, and the accompanying potions for her nausea and sleep aides. Nowadays she was lucky to have a steady supply of Wolfsbane. Drifting around the continent with no real ties to anything certainly had it's downsides. She had contacts here and there, where she could go to get some Wolfsbane in a pinch. It wasn't ideal, but as long as she could pay there was no other questions asked.
Standing at the window looking down at the old fashioned streets; she paused, making sure the drunken idiot she had totally just taken advantage of was actually snoring and appropriately out cold before she started pillaging the apartment. She hadn't drank anything tonight, the nausea had been too much, and realistically unless he was buying she wasn't able to afford it. She had had two whiskeys neat, just to try and steady the tremors in her hands, and it had worked in that aspect. But her stomach wasn't happy with her for it, as soon as the spirit had hit it it began churning away angrily. She hadn't been able to eat or drink properly for days. She was as pissed off with her stomach for refusing to keep anything down as it was for her for throwing whiskey at it, but howenever. This was what she hated likely the most about this whole infuriating thing; the ravenous hunger, but being physically unable to actually bring yourself to eat anything. The headaches that came from it were only the tip of the ice berg and were handled well enough with a mix of both prescription and over the counter drugs, but the hunger, god she despised it.
Making her way, half dressed, through this fools apartment, she was tempted by the kitchen. Briefly stopping at the fridge she found some leftover chicken from a rotisserie style chicken shoved in a lunch box. It tempted her for all of two seconds before she devoured it, and snapped the fridge shut again. It probably wouldn't be long before her body rejected it, but it would suffice mentally for now.
After going through a mix of drawers and stupid places muggles generally counted as their 'safe spots' and some of the more secret safes the fool thought nobody knew about; she had amassed about €3.5k. Perfect for now.
After pausing for another split second, yes, he was still snoring. It didn't take her long to run around the apartment and gather up her clothes that lay scattered at random. For a moment, he shifted in the bed and Lyra froze, like an animal caught in headlights. But slowly the snores had resumed. Perfect, she thought, poor halfwit would wake up from whatever drug induced sleep she'd lulled himself into and thing they had actually had a grand old night. The truth of it was laughable. By the time Lyra had carried him back here, he couldn't remember her name, never mind get it up. Just how she liked it. Watching him with a smirk, she rolled her eyes as he continued to snore. It was a pity he was actually sort of cute.
"Ugh Fuck" She hissed into the silence after a moment, the spasms were starting again. She didn't have time to stand here and waste. It probably wouldn't be long before that chicken made a reappearance either by the way her stomach was doing somersaults. Great.
With a final sigh, she closed her eyes and with a crack she was gone and on her way to the dealers house to get her fix, before she could carry on to the woods where she had the rest of her stuff stashed and would spend the night of the full moon.
Even if it was worse than usual, she didn't stop to notice it. C'est la vie as the French would say.
Life on the run was bad enough, she didn't stop to think about things like that too deeply. It was easier to put how woeful she was feeling down to a bad nights sleep or the likes. Easier to bottle it up and live in denial. Except for the immediate days pre full-moon. In the early days, back when she was much younger, the aches and spasms were always made better with the Wolfsbane, and the accompanying potions for her nausea and sleep aides. Nowadays she was lucky to have a steady supply of Wolfsbane. Drifting around the continent with no real ties to anything certainly had it's downsides. She had contacts here and there, where she could go to get some Wolfsbane in a pinch. It wasn't ideal, but as long as she could pay there was no other questions asked.
Standing at the window looking down at the old fashioned streets; she paused, making sure the drunken idiot she had totally just taken advantage of was actually snoring and appropriately out cold before she started pillaging the apartment. She hadn't drank anything tonight, the nausea had been too much, and realistically unless he was buying she wasn't able to afford it. She had had two whiskeys neat, just to try and steady the tremors in her hands, and it had worked in that aspect. But her stomach wasn't happy with her for it, as soon as the spirit had hit it it began churning away angrily. She hadn't been able to eat or drink properly for days. She was as pissed off with her stomach for refusing to keep anything down as it was for her for throwing whiskey at it, but howenever. This was what she hated likely the most about this whole infuriating thing; the ravenous hunger, but being physically unable to actually bring yourself to eat anything. The headaches that came from it were only the tip of the ice berg and were handled well enough with a mix of both prescription and over the counter drugs, but the hunger, god she despised it.
Making her way, half dressed, through this fools apartment, she was tempted by the kitchen. Briefly stopping at the fridge she found some leftover chicken from a rotisserie style chicken shoved in a lunch box. It tempted her for all of two seconds before she devoured it, and snapped the fridge shut again. It probably wouldn't be long before her body rejected it, but it would suffice mentally for now.
After going through a mix of drawers and stupid places muggles generally counted as their 'safe spots' and some of the more secret safes the fool thought nobody knew about; she had amassed about €3.5k. Perfect for now.
After pausing for another split second, yes, he was still snoring. It didn't take her long to run around the apartment and gather up her clothes that lay scattered at random. For a moment, he shifted in the bed and Lyra froze, like an animal caught in headlights. But slowly the snores had resumed. Perfect, she thought, poor halfwit would wake up from whatever drug induced sleep she'd lulled himself into and thing they had actually had a grand old night. The truth of it was laughable. By the time Lyra had carried him back here, he couldn't remember her name, never mind get it up. Just how she liked it. Watching him with a smirk, she rolled her eyes as he continued to snore. It was a pity he was actually sort of cute.
"Ugh Fuck" She hissed into the silence after a moment, the spasms were starting again. She didn't have time to stand here and waste. It probably wouldn't be long before that chicken made a reappearance either by the way her stomach was doing somersaults. Great.
With a final sigh, she closed her eyes and with a crack she was gone and on her way to the dealers house to get her fix, before she could carry on to the woods where she had the rest of her stuff stashed and would spend the night of the full moon.
