Ahsoka's presence at the parade was strictly investigative. After all the talk of infiltration and other things, she finds a need to keep busy in some way that doesn't interfere with others. In that, she had come prepared -- a more appropriate dress that allows her to look more like a costume piece, rather than her drab Jedi leathers. It keeps to her more eccentric look as an alien without compromising them as a unit. It allows for the ribbons (blue, green, white, and gold) to drape off her belt (purposefully tied and arranged so they are difficult to pull off) and remain tied around her montrals. Enough to blend without looking too inviting.
At first, everything is fine. Then the drink begins to flow, and she can feel an unfamiliar haze somewhere in the base of her skull. At first, its enough to startle her into hyper-alertness, even in such a small dose, even with the worst of it pickling another brood. It makes her stomach churn uncomfortably, and she tries to shake it loose -- which only makes the vague lightheaded feeling worse. Rather than let go and let it pass, she stubbornly clings to herself, and finds herself standing stock still in the middle of the crowd while trying to figure out what she is experiencing.
Angel's voice cuts through it, and she's almost relieved -- except for the fact that she knows better than to let anyone see her at anything other than her best, especially after recent displays. Rather than let herself be grabbed and lead, she holds her ground, turning her arm inward enough to clasp the other woman's limb in exchange.]
Wait.
[She realizes when she sees the other woman what she must be feeling, and instead shakes her head in another stubborn and failed attempt to clear it.]
no subject
Ahsoka's presence at the parade was strictly investigative. After all the talk of infiltration and other things, she finds a need to keep busy in some way that doesn't interfere with others. In that, she had come prepared -- a more appropriate dress that allows her to look more like a costume piece, rather than her drab Jedi leathers. It keeps to her more eccentric look as an alien without compromising them as a unit. It allows for the ribbons (blue, green, white, and gold) to drape off her belt (purposefully tied and arranged so they are difficult to pull off) and remain tied around her montrals. Enough to blend without looking too inviting.
At first, everything is fine. Then the drink begins to flow, and she can feel an unfamiliar haze somewhere in the base of her skull. At first, its enough to startle her into hyper-alertness, even in such a small dose, even with the worst of it pickling another brood. It makes her stomach churn uncomfortably, and she tries to shake it loose -- which only makes the vague lightheaded feeling worse. Rather than let go and let it pass, she stubbornly clings to herself, and finds herself standing stock still in the middle of the crowd while trying to figure out what she is experiencing.
Angel's voice cuts through it, and she's almost relieved -- except for the fact that she knows better than to let anyone see her at anything other than her best, especially after recent displays. Rather than let herself be grabbed and lead, she holds her ground, turning her arm inward enough to clasp the other woman's limb in exchange.]
Wait.
[She realizes when she sees the other woman what she must be feeling, and instead shakes her head in another stubborn and failed attempt to clear it.]
You've--been drinking.
[Someone's been drinking.]