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THE PENDANT AROUND her neck is warm against the hollow of her throat, providing a stifling sense of heat that threatens to set her wildly beating heart into overdrive. Sweat drips down the back of the young woman's neck as she sits up, eyelids fluttering rapidly to chase the sleep from them. Empty bottles are scattered around the room haphazardly, mixed amongst old, leather-bound books with fraying spines and crinkled pages, as well as rusted pieces of scrap metal that have seen better days.
Somewhere in the room, an alarm is blaring loudly — or at least, Indira thinks it's blaring loudly, but then again that could also be a consequence of her massive, raging hangover. Above her spot on the floor, she sees her modified EV-1 droid flitting around in frantic circles as it relays a hurried message to her in scattered bits of binary that are almost impossible to understand in her hungover state.
"Evie," she groans irritably, rubbing her pounding forehead. "Cut that shit out. I can't understand a thing you're saying."
Her companion droid makes an offended noise before slowing its beeps to a more reasonable speed. When it finishes relaying its message, the dark-haired girl swears loudly. "There are people coming down here right now?"
EV-1 replies with a curt confirmation, throwing in a snarky jab about Indira's state of appearance that has her scowling. "If you're going to be rude, I can have you disassembled," she snaps, standing from the floor as quickly as she can despite the overwhelming urge to upchuck.
Wiping her eyes furiously, Indira stumbles around the disastrous basement space that serves as her lab ( as well as her place of lodging ) and frantically begins picking up the junk scattered around the room. Each movement makes her wince as a sharp, stabbing sensation shoots straight through her temples. Still, she does her best to suffer through the pain with gritted teeth and hurries towards the nearest garbage chute to dump the trash down it quickly.
