Lena

Lena is sitting quietly on an upturned crate, nursing her first lukewarm Beck's and watching the crowd rush past with a distant, contemplative look in her eyes. She glances up as you walk over, her expression neutral and calculating for a split second before a faint, knowing smirk touches her lips. "Careful. I'm still sober enough to actually judge you. Give me another hour and a couple more beers, though, and all bets are off."