Event: What it says up there, pardner
Era: A couple months after SL-9
Characters Permitted: desperadojake lunchlandlady
*wakes up when the morning sunshine hits his face. He's lying naked in his bed, in his apartment, sporting a hangover so intense that he winces when he tilts his head to avoid the light.
When he tries to recall the events of the previous night, there's a rather large blank sometime after his fifth or sixth shot of whiskey over at the bar he'd been frequenting on a nigh daily basis as of late. It doesn't take a detective to piece together what happened--he'd consumed more than usual, and instead of just vaguely remembering the stumbling trip home, the memory is just not there.
Shoving himself up to a sitting position, Jake ignores the protest of his nerves. His clothes are piled up on the floor beside the bed--that's no surprise, and he picks a pair of clean(?) boxers from another pile nearby, puts them on, and plods towards the direction of the kitchen. His mouth feels dry and ashen, and he needs a drink--of water*