[Mardi Gras] Laissez les bons temps rouler!

[broken_brushes]

The island had done it again. Whether it was pure chance or benevolence none of them would ever know, but somehow, someway, the place had seen fit to give them all booze again

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[cibosity]

Even with her face looking as dark and sullen as it always does, Sawyer can't bring himself to be too upset right then, finds that the alcohol cheers him up well enough today. That's not always the case, and he's not sure why it holds right now, but he's loath toe question it. Some people say that he's the type of guy who's a glutton for punishment, but the truth of the matter is that being miserable hits Sawyer in the gut just as much as it does the next person. He'd much rather be off playing golf than sitting among the bamboo stalks of the jungle, getting tortured by a former member of the Republican Guard. Enjoying something and wanting something, they're completely different concepts. That's what it boils down to.

"That ain't true," he says quietly with a snort. "Pretty things ain't pointless, ain't useless, and if anythin', they're a whole lot more dangerous than the things that ain't pretty. You find somethin' fragile, beautiful, you never expect it to get you in the back. You let your guard down. So you'd be surprised what a dress can get a girl like you, just like you might be surprised what a suit gets a guy like me."

He rolls his eyes, pressing the beer bottle to his lips. "Not that I'm encouragin' you to dress up for that reason. Wouldn't want you to get any ideas."