He closes his eyes for a moment, then straightens up a little, swiping his tattered sleeve across his eyes before turning to you. "We can't go anywhere for a while, with the cops here." he says softly.
She nods, looking up at you gently. Seems about to say something, then changes her mind and closes her mouth. After a pause, she remarks. "This guy's a musician. Gotta have something to drink around this penthouse. Want to go raid his liquor cabinet?"
"Yeah." He says, his voice holding something akin to relief. The two of you make your way indoors.... ew.... our host did not see fit to clean up his mess from earlier. Bachelors. You wend your way through his impressively appointed pad, and raid the bar for drinkables. What a kind host.
I'll just find a room that isn't covered in puke or blood. Spare bedroom or something. Settle in there with my bottle, or drink, or shotglass or whatever. What a kind host indeed. Especially nice considering the fact that we're wanted murderers who broke into his house.
Wyn half smiles. "Don't give yourself alcohol poisoning." She requests. "I don't think a drive to the hospital would be a good idea." She looks around herself. Frowns. "Think we ought to call Damien, let him know we're still alive?"
"I know. I shouldn't make fun of you." She sits back down. "At risk of making Damien freak out, I'll call tomorrow. I don't think I can tell him the whole story right now. And that's what he'd want me to do. Ugh." She takes another drink and makes the ucky rum face.
"Well, aren't we both little rays of sunshine tonight." She says dryly, taking a drink. "Not that it's not to be expected, mind you, but if you get anymore depressed, I'm gonna cry. And if I cry, then you'll cry. And we'll just be two drunk puddles of crying." She muses muzzily. "And it is also occuring to me that I have not eaten a single thing today, and am already very drunk."