Dancing this close to heartbreak...

[nothingsodivine]

[OOC: Three pups for the price of one, because I'm feeling just a little bit crazy tonight, and... Yeah.]

Desmond Descant is sprawled on a couch in the common room, an ice pack on his head, looking absolutely murderous... For a couple of reasons, really, not the least of which is the splitting migraine. (Yes, the healing factor covered those sorts

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[stonebluesorrow]

Zelgadis follows Lina into the common room in short order, and it's hard to miss him come in. Though he's dressed in local attire as well, his otherwise strange appearance makes him stand out.

Without a word he sits down next to Lina, though he gives Descant a cursory salute.

[throwinshadows]

Lina tugs the popsicle out of her mouth with a satisfactory popping noise. "Who's that?" She asks, almost surpised to see Zel seemingly on friendly terms with someone else here. She's been here two days already and she hasn't spoken to anyone save Toshiko, Dr. Jones ,and a few of the angels, and while she's not the most friendly person around, she's certainly more of a social person than he is.

[stonebluesorrow]

"That's Des. He wandered into the Rift Room shortly after I fell through," Zel answers. "He has a tendency to snark, but otherwise he's nice enough."

[throwinshadows]

She nods, unable to speak because the popsicle is back in her mouth. Oh God, it tastes good. She could live off these things.

"The food here is fantastic," she finally notes, her eyes moving across the room, scanning each and every face for anything particularly suspicious. "It might even be better than the food back home."

Food is comforting for her, especially given her sad lack of magic.

[smithnjones]

Martha Jones is actually looking for someone else when she sticks her head into the common room, but she stops her search for that someone when she sees Des. And the ice pack.

There's a deep set frown, because she knows the heavy hangover? Completely her fault.

Martha walks over to him, gives him a sympathetic, borderline guilty look. "Care for coupla pain meds?"

She has her purse with her and there are always medications in her purse.

[nothingsodivine]

He lifts the ice pack off his head to give her a pleased, but utterly pathetic, look. "Martha Jones, you are a saint."

He groans and rolls his eyes. "Next time I decide to get really drunk off my ass, tell me not too. Casual drinking's fine, but not five whiskey glasses full of Ol' Jack. God, how do normal people live like this?"

He clearly hasn't had a real hangover in four thousand years, which is no excuse for being a huge baby over it, but he never feels he needs an excuse to whine when he feels pained.

[smithnjones]

Martha smiles at his word choice. He can't know that she was called that before in a much different context, but it doesn't matter now.

"I'll do my best to remind you." There's a little flatness to her voice, but she will remind him next time. Even slap him over the head if it's necessary. She winces a little in sympathy and searches around her purse for extra strength Advil. Martha pours a couple of pills out of the bottle and hands them over to him.

She just shakes her head with a shrug of her slight shoulders. "I couldn't tell you. I guess they think the drunkenness is worth the hangover."

[nothingsodivine]

He sits up, still balancing the ice pack on one side of his head and gratefully takes the pills. "Then they're all masochists."

Hangovers were always just a twinge for him so that made drinking fun and enjoyable all around, but most things didn't hurt him much unless it involved having to heal a major injury. Regrowing skin and organs and muscle and all that was pain personified... Although right now he'd take regrowing a kidney over this dull throb in his head any day.

He leans forwards a little, resting his elbow on his leg and cupping his face in his free hand. "How are things? Did you get Lucy in the Sky With Sharp Pointy Things sorted out? I'm assuming she didn't bleed to death after you kicked her out."