Just wanna Run! Pasta!

The sun wasn't even close to setting and Telka was already planning on getting completely wasted. Her 'breaks from reality', as they were often affectionately referred to, were few and far between, but when they hit, she might as well be getting rammed with a truck, before someone threw it into reverse
and ran her ass over again.

Often the first precursor was when she ran out of her shit, and didn't have a cigarette with her to bide the time. The splitting headaches, the muscle spasms. Then the self loathing kicked in- or a rather violent bout of survivor's guilt, depending on your frame of mind. Thoughts of
how disappointed her parents;hell, her whole village would have been with her. She was all that had survived. She was what was left behind. She was their legacy. The best they had to offer to society. And that wasn't just because she had been the only one to make it out alive. Having been a matriarchal society that didn't have time to play around, Telka had been groomed from birth to be responsible, kind, level headed, generous to those around her and was just put on some kind of pedestal, trying to make her as close to perfect as possible.

God bless, but wasn't she just a disgrace. Telka's scrawny ass got knocked off that glorified stool long ago, and she didn't have the inclination to right it and get back on. River was safely tucked away with a herd of Brahmin, having warned the man in charge of said herd that the horse was foul tempered and not to be handled. All completely bullshit. The horse was sweeter than sugar, but the farmer hadn't called her bluff.

Tucked away in the corner at the ass end of the bar, Telka nursed on her beer, trying to decide what next. Probably find someone, have sex, and then steal their shit while they were sleeping. Yeah... That sounded like a good idea... Obviously it was kind of hard to be inconspicuous with a head of pink hair, so she'd get glances every now and then from men and a few women. All of them were immediately dismissed, for one thing or another.

Her skin was crawling now, yearning for her drug, and the cigarette being held between her left fore and middle fingers not doing too much for her. Fuck all if she wasn't wasn't just a damn mess right now. And it was likely only to get worse as the night progressed. Her hair was already a mess, having not seen a brush lately. She didn't remember the name of the seedy little hovel she was currently in. Actually, she wasn't certain she even knew it in the first place to remember. There seemed to be a layer of smoke that clung like fog, the floor was a mess and there were puddles of body fluids that really should probably be avoided. Whelp... Might as well start the drinking early.