After drinking and eating for long enough to outlast the sun, Fáfnir was guided by the only other creature who hadn't gotten drunk. His new captain, Bonnie, made it very clear she had stayed sober so she didn't have to deal with both a hangover and Fáfnir's first day at the same time.
Fáfnir wasn't sure where he had expected to be taken to sleep, but a cabin near the edge of the wooden wall was better than he would have hoped if he had tried to take a guess beforehand.
Bonnie held her hand up to the door, and after a moment, it unlocked. She said something about adding Fáfnir to the lock tomorrow but was visibly starting to succumb to a mixture of fatigue and a full belly.
Bonnie didn't bother closing the door, as a parade of drunk Lizardfolk was not too far behind them. Fáfnir followed Bonnie to what was probably supposed to be the living room and found several dozen beds set up in various parts of the room.
"Down that hall to the left is the woman's room," Bonnie informed Fáfnir sleepily, and that door over there is the bathroom; if it's in use, there's a communal bathhouse and restrooms in the main guild building; the restrooms are free for all, but you'll need a guild badge to use the bathhouse, so you get first dibs on the bathroom once you wake up, seeing how you literally have no other place to take a bath,"
Bonnie yawned and gave Fáfnir the basic rules, "Find an open spot and claim it with whatever; I'm sure you got something in that cloak for campin'. Feel free to take a bath before bed, when you wake up, or both; just don't go stinking up the place. If you use the bath, remember to take your stuff out when you're done. Otherwise, it's free realistate until you go back for it," Bonnie muttered something about someone named Billy before turning away and heading to her room.
"See you tomorrow," she called back with a wave before entering the room and leaving Fáfnir to find a spot. It was pretty clear the Living room had no vacancies, so he simply waited until the drunk Lizards piled themselves into their spots. He spied Bellamy pull a classic lizard move and stick himself to the wall, climbing up just high enough for his tail not to drag against the floor; a few others doing the same and began sleeping on the wall in a mid-crawl position.
Now aware of the three-dimensional space, he activated his levitating cloak, setting it to auto-hover, and curled himself up like a Cacoon in it. He set himself to hover next to a window; some of his cloak stuck itself to the bottom and some to the top of the window. One of the Lizardfolk muttered something about Butterflies, but Fáfnir ignored him as his clack covered his face, and he waited for sleep to overtake him.
It did not; now able to just sit and think, Fáfnir was plagued with memories, old friends, old pets, and of being hit by a fucking truck.
Eventually, he was able to doze off.
Sleeping until Sunlight invaded his dreams of dogs chewing on trucks.
Fáfnir moved his cloak so that his head was freed and found Bellamy looking at him, very much hung over; his reasons for looking at Fáfnir were quickly explained.
"That's for acting as our sun protector," Bellamy said in a soft tone, both because he was in a room of sleeping lizards and to avoid an assault on his senses, "could you close the curtains when you move?" Fáfnir's cloak obliged, and the curtain was closed before he undid his cocoon and headed over to the bathroom. Fáfnir noted that Bellamy had apparently only woken up to cover the living room windows before the sun could assault his hungover brothers and was already climbing back up the wall.
Fáfnir shut and locked the bathroom door. It was surprisingly clean for a bathroom shared by twenty residents, although it was possible that they only used it sparingly and instead chose the guild bathhouse.
Fáfnir filled the tub with hot water, taking off the ring and putting it in his inventory so he wouldn't lose it in the water, as his chest returned for his visual pleasure, he tested the waters until they were just right and then mentally prepared himself before he started stripping down. He took this moment to get a proper look at his face. To his lack of surprise, if he had seen the face casually, he'd have said it belonged to a woman, a very pretty woman with sharp teeth and a weired facial tatto that started at the eyes, ran down thecheeks, and came to an end on the neck. turning his tail back on for the hell of it.
he had just started taking off his gloves, and found that from the middle of his biceps to his hands, his arms where covered in Burnt orange scales, having retractable claws instead of fingernails.
"Well that might be a problem," Fáfnir fully removed his upper layer of clothings and noticed the large scar running from the middle of his chest down to just a little under his belly, in the original story Fáfnir had been killed by the hero Sigurd by being stabbed in the belly and through the heart, He vaguely recalled changing it for the roleplay to having it where Sigurd had sliced him down the middle and left thinking he had killed Fáfnir in his full Dragon form, who only barely managed to survive weakened, and that had been his start for the Roleplay.
Looking past the scar for the time being he began stripping down fully and found that his entire lower body was covered in scales, even his most sensitive parts had them on it.
Properly annoyed at how just about any skin showing would bring about questions he didn't want to answer, Fáfnir entered the bath and did his best to enjoy the blissful sensation of slowly being enveloped in hot water.
He enjoyed playing with his tail in the water for a moment before reaching into his inventory and rummaging around for a moment, pulling out a Pink potion. He checked to make sure it was the right one and then poured some of it into the bath.
The potion he had used was an old gag potion that just made a bunch of bubbles, and to his delight, it made his bath a bubble bath. He used the resulting bubbles as soap and shampoo, and since he had no hygiene products outside his bubble bath potion, he used it to brush his teeth, finding that, unlike actual bubble bath, it at least didn't assault his tongue; it did leave an odd taste in his mouth but it was more akin to toothpaste than soap.
Not sure if a conga line of Hungover Lizards was waiting their turn, Fáfnir put an end to his bath when the smell of food permeated the air. Pulling a random bit of cloth out of his inventory as he drained the tub, he used it to dry off before dressing back up.