Dresden in Recovery
(OOC: Here is the introduction for my first Dresden RP! Hope you like it! More to come!) I was awoken by the dull thud of Mister jumping onto my chest. I let out a gasp as the thirty pounds of fat slammed into my lungs. He meowed contemptuously, staring at me with large luminous eyes. I squinted my own eyes at the blindingly bright noon day sun shining like hateful spears through my bedroom window. Mister yowled at me again, waiting.
“Alright, alright. I’m up, your majesty.” I groaned as I heaved myself up. My leg was throbbing. Still in recovery from the lovely parting gift I received from the Benitts and Victor Sells. What a guy, that Vic. Always a giver. Or at least he was. Till he got eaten by a toad demon. And some giant scorpions. In my defense, it had been a weird day. But I had been laying low since then. I was still recovering from my injuries. I was mostly okay now, but my leg still felt like a tiny imp was stabbing me from the inside. Little bastard. I popped a couple of prescription painkillers, a gift from the good folks at the hospital, grabbed my robe, and walked, or limped, to the kitchen. I poured some food into Mister’s bowl. Mister sauntered over to the food, sniffed at it warily, and decided that it was indeed fitting for one such as he to eat. I grabbed a coke out of the ice box, giving about half to Mister, and sat down on my couch.
I massaged my leg, contemplating on what I should do for the day. The rent was getting late again, but it was hard to do much when you can barely walk. I had been taking small cases, a lost dog here, a consultation there. I tried to steer away from any missing husbands, I shivered for a moment at the thought. As I rubbed at my face I felt the beard that had started to form on my unshaven face. I had had any dates with Susan in a little while, so I hadn’t felt much need to keep myself well maintained. Why waste water? Yeah, I’m just a thoughtful guy like that. That’s why I’m always beating women off left and right. Shaking my head, I took a shower. At least the cold water numbed a bit of my leg pain. The painkillers kicked in around the time I was heading out. I put on a t-shirt and jeans, along with my old faded duster, grabbed my sword cane, and headed out the door. Mister shot past me as soon as I opened it. “Where you goin’ today? Going to go eat a dog?” Mister glanced back at me a moment, before disappearing down an alleyway. “Alright,” I sighed, wearily, “Time to get to work.”
