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[brushoff]

"You've reached the inbox of one Dorian Gray. Don't forget to leave me a message. If you're interesting, I'll get back to you."

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[brushoff]

"Is it really ethical if your main concern is whiskey dick?" Dorian dryly responds. "Or whatever the hell the lady equivalent of that is. Although, getting vomited on is a concern no matter the gender."

[pitofguilt]

"Tequila tits." She's bullshitting for the hell of it, and she knows he knows that. "I'm more concerned with consent, actually."

[brushoff]

"I am many things," Dorian points out. "Addict, murderer, horrible friend. But I'm certainly not going to try and coerce sometime or take advantage of them if they're drunk and don't want to fuck."

[pitofguilt]

"Same here."

Natalie lets out a long sigh.

"Think I'm gonna pass out. Don't wake me up unless I'm in distress. I'm so fucking tired." Of thinking, mostly. Of remembering what happened a few hours ago.

[brushoff]

It do be like that sometimes, Dorian thinks, but doesn't say. Sometimes life is hard and your best friend is dead and you just want to sleep.

"Get a good night's sleep, Nat. I'll wake you up if Misty's coherent enough to be posting to the network."

[pitofguilt]

Yes. Best friend. No, wait--

"Yeah. Sounds good."

Allergic to saying thank you as she is, that will suffice for her. She settles in for a nice bout of unconsciousness.