Olivia smirked, the expression lopsided and out of place on such a pretty young face. She lifted her glass, swirling the amber fluid in it around before bringing it to her mouth and drinking deeply from it. The young woman emptied the glass in what seemed like two swallows: a champion at the art of getting drunk, no doubt. 

She reached for the bottle that sat on the table, topping off her glass as rheumy eyes settled on Anthony. Her lips twitched as if she were about to speak, pink tongue moistening her lips as she toyed with the refilled glass. She was considering downing it as she had the first and the ones before that. Olivia was on a mission that was all too familiar to her. 

"Eh," she began, unsure of how to continue. Her words slurred when she finally found them. "I will live, always have always will, probably. Until I don't."

Her words made little sense, but she was too intoxicated to realize that. Instead, her nose wrinkled and she finally downed the second cup before, in quite an unladylike way, snaring the entire bottle and upending it in her mouth. It was impressive, the amount of alcohol the woman was able to consume without passing out. A sigh left her lips.

"You haven't happened to see a man leaving any of the ships that fit this description, have you?" As she spoke, she pulled a small notebook from only God knew where and flipped it open, sliding it across to Anthony. It was a description of her betrothed, a man who would not have been seen and was probably, for all accounts, long dead by now.