"Yeah, well." Jessica couldn't explain that one immediately, because a rational person would have been gone by now so they were dealing with the irrational here. "I give off a vibe. 'Trouble'. 'Imminent bleeder'," she came up with. "I don't get out much," she finally offered to explain the question, as though that wasn't obvious already. "Everyone I talk to has this kind of crazed, desperate look in their eye. I don't usually have to say much. Which is good, because usually what I have to say would really fuck up this career path, and I've already blocked off a whole lot." Holy shit, was she sober? Jessica raised her lip in a private snarl, glancing around for some saviour tucked away in the couch cushion perhaps.