Who: Mandy and OPEN What: Mandy's avoiding Zombieland and brooding a bit. Where: Back parlor When: Tuesday afternoon Ratings/warnings: Language, references to drugs and sex. Will edit if anything else comes up. Status: Open/ongoing
All she'd wanted was a place to hock the damn ring.
Well, that wasn't all she'd wanted. If she were being picky, Mandy would have wanted a proper city with street food and dancing and seedy bars. A place where she could have picked up a stranger and wouldn't have to worry about things getting dreadfully awkward come morning. Or at least a place where she could get some good drugs without breaking a bone first.
But now, she just wanted to be some place that didn't look like the worst trip ever.
Normally, Mandy spent most of her time in the observation cars, but this place was definitely not one she wanted to stare out at for too long. TV wasn't much fun without a proper buzz, and the usual social avenues didn't seem like a real kick at the moment either--she knew Grey's man had left, and kept thinking she should go and say or do something, but nothing that came to mind seemed appropriate.
And then there was the damned ring, which she swore kept staring at her from the dresser. She kept thinking of just tossing it out, but always decided that she deserved some compensation for all that wasted time.
So here she was in the parlor, legs draped over the arm of the couch, smoking and idly flipping through some poetry collection.