After they didn't change, Joanie began drinking. First it was one, then two, and it spiraled out of her hands until she was just as drunk as Luther despite his head start. When she wasn't actively drinking, she was either talking to Luther or texting Sam a series of messages she most likely wouldn't remember the next day until reading them.
Back leaning against the couch, she sat on Luther's shins, her own legs crossed Indian style. She didn't know what number beer she was on, but she chugged it nonetheless. As he spoke, she glanced over at him. "Well, Ah know Sam didn't. Cause he's got thumbs." Holding up one hand, she wiggled her thumb, snickering. "Tigers don't have thumbs." She downed the rest of her beer, head tilted far back as the beer rushed down her throat.
As Luther mentioned the new people thinking they were insane, she popped the empty bottle out of her mouth, looking at him with an incredulous expression. "Who. Cares?" Waving the bottle absently, she dropped her head into her free hand, realizing it was far too heavy to be held up on her neck alone. "All 't matters is that we know we're not." Her drawl was stronger than ever, almost overpowering. "And Ah, fer one, don't even give a damn anymore." She shook her head. "Nope. No, Ah don't. Fuckin' asshole guy in D2, sayin' he's gonna melt me?" Eyes wide, she gestured to herself. "Fine! Ah want 'im to. Ah wanna see 'em all try. Ah...am a witch...and Ah'm sick 'n tired of hidin' it now!"