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[ she snorts under her breath, the ghost of that previous bitter laugh. suddenly, she feels selfish for having told vi, knowing the other woman is dealing with a lot at the moment; still reeling from the tower, from corruption, from the death on her hands no matter how important it was to commit. ]

Don't worry, last glass for me. [ she lifts it up to her lips and sips it this time around, no longer trying to down it like a dying man, and tries to smile but it's strained and wrong. painted on. a smile that doesn't reach the eyes. ]

...I probably shouldn't have dropped that shit on you right now.

[she's thoughtful a moment before she pours herself another drink.]

I'm the one that asked how it worked, so that kinda makes me the shit-dropper if you think about it.

This could be my last. I mean, I'm still sober, because this shit's a poison.

[of course she drinks some after that.]

Point taken. [ she lies with a shrug of her shoulders, leaning back into the chair. ]

So, what, you can't get drunk?

Not can't, but...

...I got into a contest with Johnny and a coupla other guys, and let's just say I was the last one standing. Well, until I tried to keep up with D. Huge mistake.

So I can get there, but it takes a lot. Forty shots, give or take a few.

[she just ends up reconsidering her motives half the time - vileblood: it gives her a lot of time to do so. not a bad thing, she's just really got to commit to getting smashed.]

It sucks that you had to get pushed that far. [it doesn't sound like a thing she'd just done for the hell of it. splitting a soul. fragmenting a self? she thinks of her sister again and sighs softly.]

Don't get into a drinking contest with Vi or D. Noted. [ she goes with a combo of easy-going and amused. forty fucking shots. she finishes her last shot with a wrinkle of her nose. ]

Yeah, it does. [ she agrees with a nod, her amusement fading like chalk drawings in the rain. ] Nothing quite like being burned alive to push you over the edge.

[why is she surprised when she hears this? her eyes whirl with recently spent colormurk as if they can't decide to shed it or keep it - but it just bleeds back into the grey blue and muddies them a little before it fades.]

I don't even know how to follow that. What the fuck, is probably a solid choice, but it doesn't feel like enough.

[she knows what she'd do if this were powder, or jinx, or so many other people - but sharon's a prickly one sometimes - she's good at keeping people at a distance - and vi gets it, but she sighs and tries anyway. not a hug, but a reach for a hand if she can, just that and no words. pure disgust, horror on her face before the wince comes.]

[ She tenses when Vi reaches out across the table towards her but allows the older woman to take her hand, easing some when they touch. She gives Vi's hand a squeeze as if she were offering the other woman comfort rather than taking it herself. Already, she's regretting letting herself drink so much and talk. She's kept most of her past wrapped up tight because she knows how it sounds; knows how awful it is. She's used to it, other people aren't. ]

Nah, what the fuck works pretty well. I'd also have taken goddamn and no fucking way. [ She gives Vi a grin but it's tight-lipped. Another attempt to offer the other woman some hint of comfort or ease in the face of something so heavy. ] I look pretty good for a burn victim, huh? [ A humorless attempt at a joke.

Listen. She hates feeling this vulnerable, okay. ]

[why does talking always come with regret? more often than not this seems to be a thing, a theme, and here it is happening even if it isn't directly at trench's bidding (not being dropped int a boat has its upsides) it's still the situation that's driving it, the corruption, the trauma. maybe the pthumerians didn't directly engineer this, but they sure didn't course correct for zealots.

though, it sounds like sharon's got her own homeworld issues that might be ...no, they are arguably just as bad. shit. (goddamn and no way also work here.) but the joke works, because it's a go-to coping mechanism for vi, too. it takes her a moment to return her own strained, slightly awkward smile.]

Goddamn right you do. No way would I have guessed. Better than pretty good. [...] I hope they look like the shittiest shit that ever shit. You fucked 'em up, right?

[ her lips twitch when vi says better than pretty good, a silent show of gratitude and affection. she does look pretty good, thank you for noticing. at the question, she nods firmly. ]

You have no idea. Some of them are just puddles, others experienced what they put me through. [ the ones that didn't really matter, the ones that followed, just got relatively quick deaths. the ones that hurt her the most, though, she made sure they suffered. she will never forget the way christabella begged or the amount of satisfaction she got from it. ] Fire seemed only fitting for most of them.

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