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- Posted: Sat, 25 Aug 2012 03:58:58 +0000
Running Doesn't Effect Aim xxx●xxx Fancy Footwork xxx●xxx Survive Wound
[ Wellbeing ] Patched up & tuckered outxxx[ Company ] Qxxx[ Whereabouts ] Falls Creek Hotel
The afternoon seemed hazy to recollect despite the freshness of the events. In between the drugs pumped into her system to combat the pain while Doctor Alcana took care of her injuries, a celebratory pull from a vodka bottle at the bar and a long nap crashed out in Stella's shack, the lines had begun to blur together. When she woke up and it was dark out, Valentine didn't feel energized but she didn't want to fade back into sleep. She ignored the lump that rose in her throat when the names and faces of comrade lost that morning flashed through her mind, and got quickly out of her makeshift bed to rinse her face and hands. She dressed in relatively clean clothing from her pack and headed out.
She left her gear in the shack, and took along only the basics: a flashlight, a handgun, and a switchblade hidden in her boot. Valentine left the bandages bound to certain portions of her body be, but she could tell from the stuffness beneath the bindings that bit of of dried blood had seeped beneath the stitches to dry and harden. She'd see Alcana about getting those replaced tomorrow. In the meantime, she did her best to ignore the slightly itchy sensation of the stitches so she wouldn't do herself any harm.
Although she'd intended to go to the bar, Valentine stopped short a few paces outside of Stella's door. The so-called Falls Creek hotel had a candle burning in the window. She recalled Rickie inquiring about 'Mister Byerley' with the doctor and being told that the strange man had a room at Missus Greene's. Although Valentine would prefer to avoid the old woman, who gave her the creeps, she did want to check in with Byerley. Us out of towners gotta' stick together, she remarked as she turned her feet in that direction.
Missus Greene was awake, consuming some sort of strong-smelling tea if her breath was any indicator. The hotel owner answered the door with a glare Valentine's smile faltered at. "I'm looking for Byerley. Is he in?"
The crone shrugged and motioned sharply for Valentine to come inside. "Th' room down the hall to the left and up," Greene rasped. Feeling like she was trespassing despite being ushered in, the mercenary hurried forward and into the hall, out of the missus' sight. In the dimness, she plucked her flashlight from her belt and used its light to find the door.
Valentine rapped her knuckles across the old wooden frame, not sure if the door itself could withstand any sort of knocking. "Miiiister Byerley? It's Valentine, from earlier."
[ Wearing ] Merc Veteran Outfit, Fresh Bandages
[ Packing ] 10mm Pistol, Switchblade
[ Carrying ] Flashlight
[ OOC ] botherbotherbother