[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/NmzHmAl.png[/img][/center]

Betelgeuse climbed out of the vehicle after everyone, her knees bright red from kneeling on the metal floor and her disposition even surlier than when she got in it. People call her chaotic, yet they haven’t seen the Barghest squad in full effect. If someone says her heart felt a little warmer, seeing them all gathered in front of the shitty motel, they’re a fucking liar. All she feels is emotional exhaustion.

Galahad mentions someone paying for gas, and Betelgeuse out right snorts, [b][color=559A9A]“No.”[/color][/b] Betelgeuse was going to slide her way through their journey without paying a lick of coin. She had decided that, back at the Citadel, when she counted her money and realized she was only a small amount away from a black wyvern leather jacket. 

[b][color=green] “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m drunk, and I know that's not possible. I only had two drinks. Tell 'em Bete, you've seen me keep up with Ray before. I can hold my drink with the best of them, and that's a fact."[/color][/b] Sam says.


[b][color=559A9A]“I don’t know what you are talking about, lightweight.”[/color][/b] Betelgeuse shrugs, walking past where Sam is now cradled in Zac’s arms. Sam may be rowdy, but (and she will never admit this aloud) she finds his banter rather amusing. [b][color=559A9A]“Don’t vomit.”[/color][/b]

Bete set her bag down and rummaged through it to find her own favorite brand of alcohol, Levishine. She popped open the top with her thumb and took a swig, wiping away the drips on the corners of her mouth. She watched as Zak dragged his deadweight cargo (Sam) over to the truck and smirked, almost outright chuckled, at the sight.

[b][color=559A9A]“Maybe we should put Sam with buzzkill Galahad,”[/color][/b] she suggested with a rare twinkle in her eye.