Iris grinned at Katya. "I love fancy dresses. I even like the uncomfortable ones just to feel fancy." She sipped at her cup. That's all there was in it, the clear pungent vodka, and she was sipping away at it like it was tea. Iris had quite a tolerance for alcohol unless she was on something else, like pills, something she acquired with time and a lot of experience. It paid to be more sober than your date, and there were plenty of times she had drunk hers under the table.
"There was--" sip, "--this room. And four of us. And two of us had to shoot at the more trustworthy ones, only we had to miss to make the door appear." She changed her mind and downed the rest, making a face. "I like dirty martinis," she said to Katya, "but this a bit much." She poured some wine for herself too. Mixing them probably wasn't the best idea, but it was a better idea than the champagne.