It's getting damn close to midnight and Mary Anne is buzzed in a combination of excitement and alcohol.
Speaking of alcohol, there's plenty of wine left in the bottle at the table where she's sitting (or more acurately, sitting on). Company is very much encouraged.
[ooc: To all my lovely threaders--I must plead slowtime before I fall over
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"It is, actually. Of course, the wine's probably helping. Care for some?"
She does have a spare glass or two.
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"And it's New Year's Eve, a time of drinking and general merry-making."
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....mmmmmm."
".... oh yeah. That's what ahm talkin' 'bout."
"I really shouldn't do the negress thing, should I?"
Yeah. Goldy's drunk.
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She wrinkles her nose.
"Nope. Though you definitely get points in all other areas. Happy New Year, gorgeous."
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"Licky boom boom down?"
"I mean... HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
No smile can be that sunny. It's just not possible. There are external forces at play here.
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"I'm not even going to try and guess what that first one was supposed to mean. But yeah, Happy New Year. So pull up a seat. Or a corner of the table. Or whatever."
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What do you say to the girl who left you for a war?
"Hey."
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"Hi."
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He needs to be sure.
"It is you, isn't it? I mean, you are Mary Anne...right?"
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"Yeah, it's me. I mean, I'm Mary Anne. There's a girl here who looks a lot like me, named Alice, but I'm...I'm me."
She sighs raggedly and runs a hand through her hair.
"Hi, Mark."
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