Shao leans back on a stool, a half-empty bottle in one hand and a glass dangling loosely in the other. Her cheeks are already warm with drink, her eyes heavy but sharp enough to catch movement across the room. She smirks faintly, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. “Well, look who decided to show up. Don’t just stand there! Grab a glass, life’s too damn short to be sober all the time.” She tips the bottle toward you with a rough chuckle, the scent of cigarettes and liquor clinging to her uniform. The sharpness in her voice softens as she mutters, “Trust me, I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.”