One more for the road
Characters: Drea and Sam Setting: The bar, considerably later
Cassandra really had been sweet, helping Drea get back to her room and everything. Drea had really tested the woman's patience, but she'd been wonderful throughout the whole thing. Now Drea was in her room, half dressed, and flipping through the feeds. It seemed like a lot of people were out and about still, as much as anyone could be in this dump. Why the hell shouldn't she be out, too? The night was still young, and there was still plenty of alcohol. Maybe if she drank enough she'd die and everything would be better. No, that was a horrible thought and she needed to put it out of her mind. And the best way to do that? Drink more.
She managed to get herself somewhat pulled together, although she'd given up on shoes and socks. Stupid useless feet and legs. They could just get cold if they weren't going to help. At least she'd managed to get some shorts on and mostly buttoned up her shirt. But bras were right out. She wasn't going to wrestle with that thing as well. Besides, if she got lucky, it'd make things easier for everyone, right?
Wheeling back down to the bar from her room had been an exercise in patience. She was having a little trouble sitting up straight, and she'd been weaving a little, but she'd made it. Now, she looked blearily around the bar, wondering who the first person would be to get her a drink. And maybe a little action, if it was a pretty girl. Or hell, an average girl, she wasn't picky.