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[ What's a gal like her doing in a lounge like this? Getting messed up. The brace on her arm that Shijima fashioned out of fabric was tight, itching but she forced to ignore it. In her good hand, she has to juggle between a cigarette and glass of whiskey. It stings going down, every gulp making her hiss out.
She feels... she feels there should be a reason why she doesn't like this. Why she doesn't like drinking, but nothing clicks. Nothing stops her. She'll do it to take away her guilt for voting like everyone else and her bitterness at being helpless. Before any curfew, she's trying to get sloshed and the loud humming of a song she heard in Rapture audibly through the silence.
Follow the melodic humming? ]
She feels... she feels there should be a reason why she doesn't like this. Why she doesn't like drinking, but nothing clicks. Nothing stops her. She'll do it to take away her guilt for voting like everyone else and her bitterness at being helpless. Before any curfew, she's trying to get sloshed and the loud humming of a song she heard in Rapture audibly through the silence.
Follow the melodic humming? ]
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