Drink to Forget [open] OOC: Immediately after this.
If there was a feeling worse than wretched, that was what Iris was feeling. She was back in her own skin at least, but still in Sigyn's clothes. Clothes that were not like her normal self at all and obviously not made for someone endowed the way Iris was. But she didn't care. It was like shedding your makeup after a theater performance, you took off the outer later, but didn't bother getting all dolled up. And really, shape changing was rather like a theater performance. It was like wearing another layer of makeup.
But the coloring of the clothes was off. It looked fine on the Sigyn guise, but the colors did not complement Iris' Mediterranean coloring. They were clothes matched for a Nordic complexion. And not nearly up to the stylistic quality Hera's messenger was accustomed to. Again, she didn't care.
She was sitting in a pub in Dublin, the sort of hole in the wall place that few would bother her and even fewer deities would frequent. She didn't want to be Hera's messenger right now. She didn't want to be flirted with. She just wanted to drink.
Thankfully, the Irish didn't ask many questions. He just kept refilling her glass of whiskey as she sat at the bar, head in her hands and only a hair away from crying.
It had been the look in his eyes that did it. Not the fact that Loki had seemed to genuinely love his wife, or that he seemed genuinely fooled by Iris' guise. It was that final look in his eyes when he realized what was going on. That look of absolute and unexpected hurt. The look of sudden defeat. She didn’t' even see him fight. She didn't stay for that. But as she has mouthed her final apology to him, Iris was horrified to see someone whose story was so vibrant and filled with adventure, simply fade away into a shell of what she expected him to be.
It was one thing to play the wife of a womanizer, it was another to take all the trust and love someone had in the character you were to play and twist it, distort it and crush it under the heel without provocation. Sure, he had offended Hera in some great way, but Iris had never been offended by Loki. So she felt so incredibly wretched that she didn't even thing wretched full encompassed how horribly she was feeling.
She was going to get drunk. Which was the only reason she was drinking whiskey. It was a vile tasting beverage and normally she wouldn't touch it. But she wanted to get drunk, and it seemed fitting to drink the same spirit she had used to lull Loki into contentment before the coup ran its full course.
“Ya sure you're alright?” The bartender asked, refilling her glass again.
She just nodded as best she could with her head in her hands.