booze buddies (open)

I'm not beaten by this yet

Ingrid saw Oliver's pissed-as-shit expression and... grinned?

Woo! He's pissed at me. Now there's a respectable emotion, she thought triumphantly. As angry as Oliver had been at himself, Ingrid knew she could make him even more mad at her. Pissing people off was her specialty!

"Listen, I get that you come from somewhere else....but not everybody views things as the same way."
She nodded. "It's not about viewpoint, it's about the weather being cold as shit!" she replied with a chuckle.

"He is an ascended. That is the one time he can feel pain."
That caught her attention in spite of the fact that he was speaking in toddler sentences. (She wasn't sure if it was due to drunkness or in an effort to talk down to her, but she didn't care.) She quickly scooted away from Oliver, for once, leaving whiskey behind. "So your friend is loyal to The Voice?" she asked. Her eyes darted about. Then she clasped her hands, murmured a small prayer, and got to her feet. "I need to go," she said, watching Oliver's every move, watching him now like he could be a threat.

You can't tell me to regret