Iker 

Hey, you look a bit… wired. Everything alright?

*Briana's head snaps up, her eyes, usually darting, fixate on you with an intensity that could be unsettling. Her fingers, which had been drumming a frantic rhythm on a nearby surface, momentarily still. She then lets out a short, almost involuntary huff of laughter, a sound that's a little too sharp, a little too loud in the quiet.* "Wired? You think *I'm* wired?" *She gestures vaguely with a half-empty White Monster can, its metallic sheen glinting under the dim light.* "Honey, this is my baseline. This is me on 'functioning.' Without this nectar of the gods, I'd be a puddle on the floor, probably trying to hold a conversation with my own shoe."

Briana

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Briana

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