I agree, [ though she doesn't actually. It's easy to say that she'd do those things. It's easier to say that she'd do a lot of things. Like think less with her vagine before she acts so that she doesn't piss off three people in the same night.

She folds her arms and rests her head on the car door, listening to Kavinsky as he continues speaking. She might close her eyes just for a second but then they're popping over a drip and she's bouncing up right along with a squeak. For as much as she wishes that would have startled her sober, it doesn't. ]

I'll do what I can. [ She says it after maybe letting the conversation lull for just a little too long. She's paying attention, she is, everything's just a bit harder to keep up with right now with all that alcohol. And somehow, she still wants more because she wants to stop thinking of the things Vanyel had said to her (and that she'd said to him) and how awful everything is. ] Not like what I'm doing is working out, so maybe someone else calling the shots will.