Perrine took a long swig of rum, her third bottle tonight. She scanned the bar. If she was sober, she'd have thought there were too many people here, but considering she was almost constantly drunk nowadays, she barely noticed. The serving girl frowned when Perrine ordered another bottle, but went to fetch it anyway. The treasure-hunting French woman had grown accustomed to acting sober when she was, in fact, not, which was quite helpful at times like this. She couldn't get Renaud off her mind (as if she ever could) and she was using that as an excuse to drink excessively tonight (as if she ever didn't). A few rather menacing fellas approached the table she was sitting at and, not wanting to bother with a fight tonight (although she knew she could probably take two out of the three of them down), Perrine stood without a word and let them take the table. Looking around, she spotted a booth in the corner with only one person sitting at it and so headed (or, rather, walked in a barely-noticeable zig-zag) toward the table. 

"Hey there," she said and sat herself down without waiting for an invitation to do so. She flipped him a half-pence coin across the table, hoping it'd suffice to keep him from shooing her away, and in a long swig, drank half of the fourth bottle of rum.