Mat & Open || Heading toward the Docks
There’s a dwindling supply of ballistics that can exsanguinate innerdemons as carbon steel as our leading lady’s. Vodka being chief among them, it was this distinct spirit for which she’d taken her aim. Though truth be told, like any chthonic, self-respecting witch on Hexennacht, she had already pre-gamed on the trek here (she had much wistfulness to digest, you see). But the warm, fermented comfort of the bitter rednesses of those Bloody Mary’s was long since fading.
And now she felt much better! She is carefully descending, filthy martini and lit cigarette in tow, down the stone steps toward the docks, singing with surprising glamour: