[ Jess glares at being told to chill out AKA calm down. No big deal, it’s just treason! She’s far too drunk to empathize with the disappointment he must feel. The oatmeal boal skids along the bench as she shoves it to the opposite end, where he’d just been sitting. Crossing her arms huffily, she slouches against the corner and rests her head to the wall. She’ll fall asleep like that, and the odds are equally good that when she’s roused it will be by a nightmare or a peacekeeper. ]
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