( this is bridging the delicate gap between 'not wanting to be seen in a vulnerable position' and 'not wanting to miss a party' in a pretty explicit way. it's not that she's worried she'd be missing out on something particularly exciting if she just stayed in her room and felt miserable, it's that she's hardly been here compared to holden and the rest of them – pashang, compared to everyone on the station, whether she's met them elsewhere or not – and she doesn't want to miss anything important. call it f.o.m.o.

drummer arrives at the party alone, determined as a person can look while scooting themselves along on makeshift crutches. it's taken her almost an hour to get down here at all, and supporting herself exclusively on her arms started to wear after a few minutes. it's hardly flattering, but her only other option would be to crawl, and that's even worse. she makes a beeline for the bar, and the expression on her face is about as clear as she's going to make it before she moves to physical violence, that she won't hear a word about this, and she doesn't need any help. there's beads of sweat dotted on her forehead and temples; her face is a grim mask of determination. it's hardly a party look.

she helps herself to a whiskey and stands slouched against the surface of the bar, arms folded hard across her chest, looking about as casual as she can manage. )

( the pool seems like a more comfortable option. she can't bring her drink in since she needs the grip of both hands for the crutches. rolling up the legs of her jumpsuit, she eases herself down to sit on the edge with her feet in the pool.

it's a relief. she won't admit it. )

( hit me up on bunburying if you wanna hash out something else! )