It was late.  Not like, late-late, but late enough to call it pretty late.  The night was cold, actually chilling really, but the jacket I had on was enough to take off the real nip of it.

Cold enough to see your breath, even.  So, like almost freezing but not quite?  The weather around here is weird like that.

As I walked down the skeleton of the downtown area, my head started hurting again.  That feeling I'm always trying to get the fuck away from -- it's like a headache but all over your body.  I've never convinced myself what causes it, not entirely, but there's a few things that help take it down.  Most of the time.

Collecting a bit from the initial disorientation, I spun on my heel at the street corner, probably thrashing the shit out of the soles on the boots I had on.  The padding was good on these things, though, so they could handle it.  I think.

I needed to get somewhere that was still open and had what I needed.  A gas station or something.  My chances of finding a place that wasn't fairly high risk of being a crime scene (BEFORE I showed up) was shit, especially in this part of the city.  That didn't change my resolve -- I really, REALLY needed something with caffeine in it.

The city block I dumbly chose to wander past was unlit for some reason, as if nobody thought to add streetlights.  No wait, there were a few, but they were so decrepit it was a mystery how they hadn't fallen over already.  One in the sparse row looked as if a car ran into it at one point.  Huh.

As I passed an alley between a short building and a tall one, I got bad as fuck vibes from it.  Was it alley-way-itis or was there an unseen murderer in there somewhere?  I paused for a moment to consider that, the fur on the back of my neck standing tall.  There was no movement, no sound, no smell of anything other than urban yuck (not assuming that smell alone wouldn't cover up an alleyway killer.)  I couldn't see the telltale glare of eyes, though, which was my final sanity check before I allowed myself to calm down and move on.

And no, I don't do that at every alley I walk past.  Usually.

I soon arrived at the intersection between, according to the vandalized street signs, 20th and D94 (whatever the fuck kind of name for a road D94 is.)  The wind was brisker away from the cover of the buildings, so I put my hands in my pockets absentmindedly.  That proved to be annoying, seeing as there was quite a lot of shit in them, but I dealt with it.

What was in there, anyway?  Wallet, keys, random paraphernalia (none of which would be helpful for how I was feeling, unfortunately,) and... no phone?  Where the fuck was it?  Oh, right, back pocket.  A brief tap on the side of my ass confirmed that.  Ugh.  It was probably dead anyway.

Glancing side to side, I saw the distant neon glow of a possible store.  Score.

The corners of my eyes dragged as I blinked, a mild vertigo suddenly hitting me.  "Damn," I said aloud, drawing my left hand to my throbbing forehead.  Just a few more minutes of walking, come on, you can make it.  Just.  Move.  Your.  Legs.

I leaned against the nearby wall (as I did NOT want to touch the awful-looking sign post,) hoping the unsteady sensations shooting through me would lessen.  This did not prove to be true, at least for a minute or two, leaving me to drag through a prolonged wave of feeling like absolute shit.  The head pain was dull but gnawing, heartbeat was all over the place, and my eyes were getting photosensitive as fuck.

The malaise just kind of sat there, simmering like a miserable soup, main ingredient: me.  My thoughts were jumbled up, leaving a sparkling stream of terrible everywhere.  I sharply clamped my hand over the bridge of my snout, squeezing as hard as I could muster.  Even if it broke my face or something, maybe the pressure would help chase away the clusterfuck.

...which it did, but not before I realized that I was scratching the shit out of my face.  No, the rawness of the fresh cuts was welcome, exciting even, compared to when the massive fuckup pain kicks in.

Shivering slightly to further brush off the murkiness, I stood up straight once more, redirecting towards the score-store that still stood at length several blocks away.  The nearby streets remained just as silent as before, save for the random breeze.

I groaned and began walking again, albeit at a shorter and more sluggish stride.  My eyes were trained in the general direction of the store, for I could focus on something, and because I wasn't particularly enjoying the view of the surrounding confirmed slum.

A muted, but robust sound fired off in the distance.  Kind of an electronic chime of some sort.  My ears shot up in response, turning automatically in the direction it came from.  It was likely badges; an alarm from a patrol car.  The grating signal note, "ba-beep", was unmistakable, honestly.

Nothing that I was worried about, though, as it sounded like it was at least half a kilometer away.