It was odd, Lana noted, that she was sitting at the bar of Rama's. And drinking whiskey... She'd tried many a time to hold herself back from alcoholic beverages, and for a while, she'd been hooked on the ever-popular drink of 'water,' but it was tonight that she had cracked. The disciple needed something in her system-- anything but water.
"Another shot..." she managed to mutter, sliding her emptied shooter over to the serving droid. In turn, it grasped it and went off to tend to her wishes.
Glazed, her eyes searched the darkness for familiar faces. The chestnut spheres found none (but then again, how could one concentrate in her drunken state of mind?). She was bothered by the droid, who brought back her shooter. She'd simply look into the glass for a time while slurred thoughts clouded her mind.
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