Clean or not made no difference to Emyli. She did whatever felt good and if it shortened her lifespan, then by all means. Live hard, die young, she thought to herself, her smile growing a little as she watched Bianca pour herself a shot. She couldn't have known what the necromancer was thinking of, but if she had, her jaw would have hit the floor when she realized that Bianca was related to two of the pretty women she had seen around town. And then she would have remarked something along the lines of how whatever was in the water was certain working for their gene pool. If she was the dating type, Emyli might have wondered where Bianca's mind was lingering, but seeing as she wasn't, she didn't care at all. Bianca was there, was she not?
At Bianca's comment about the trailer, Emyli's eyebrow raised skeptically, but her grin remained on her face. "Oh yeah. It's the fucking Ritz." She picked up the bottle and filled both of the shot glasses again. She laughed, her voice light and breathy. "If I didn't live here, do you really think this is the kind of place I'd break into and offer it up as my own? Please. I may have the lowest ones in the universe, but at least I have standards." Her eyes locked onto Bianca's before her laugh returned, a little louder this time. "If you can believe that." She turned her shot glass up to her mouth again, letting the whiskey flow past her lips and down into her throat, where it burned all the way down into her stomach. The feeling of warmth traveled past her center, all the way down to her toes and back up again, causing her to shiver just slightly.
Not the least little bit shy, Emyli reached over and hooked a finger into one of Bianca's belt loops before gently tugging and leading her towards the bedroom. It didn't matter that her clothes were scattered around the place; by the time the night was through, she was going to have even more clothes littered on the floor. Besides, it wasn't like she has invited Bianca over to show off her trailer.