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Her room was a damn mess.

Sonja was never truly one to keep a pristine room but she wasn't a slob either. But this... This had been a little much, especially with the rut she had found herself in as the holidays drew that much closer. Emotions she wasn't too fond of bubble up to the surface. What better time then to tuck herself away from the other Hunters?

The knocking had her creaking an eye open, squinting instantly at the sudden light difference after peeking out from underneath her blanket. An internal groan croaked up her throat before she shifted herself to the edge of the bed.

A careful padding towards her door had her nearly tripping over some discarded clothes with a <********> or 'goddammit' here and there.

The door creaks open to reveal a disheveled Sonja, strawberry hair down and tossed. A faded green knee-length t-shirt hung off one shoulder while her signature sunset leggings sat around her knees. She figured the two of them wouldn't mind her state.

" Hey, sorry I look like s**t... " The drawling accent in her voice was thick and heavy from sleep and her smirk was small but still there.

" Room ain't any better, jus' warnin' ya' now. "

It had been too long since he'd seen Sonja; but they'd bonded over centipedes trying to eat them, islands that tried to keep them, families, and shitty people, so she was good people in Nash's book. Dottie was dragged along because she also fit into that category, as much as he was resisting a very strong urge to kick her in the shins just for the hell of it.

"Toto's a ********' slob," said Nash, "I don't think anything beats his shithole of a place."

It was said with all the affection in the world, which for Nash, was mostly just derisive snorting, but he sidled into the room after Dottie and kicked the door shut behind him. "I brought snacks," he said, holding up the Oreos. "Chocolate's always a good pick me up. And I brought Shitster McGee over there," he added, as Dottie flung herself onto the bed.

Nash slung an arm around Sonja's shoulders and half walked, half dragged her over to the bed as well.

"So. You wanna talk or you wanna not talk and just get drunk as hell and trade s**t stories?"

Dottie's usually covered face was, for once, unadorned, her bandanna shoved into a back pocket of her ripped up skinny jeans, which meant that Nash could see the face she was making at him, her tongue sticking out pointedly in his direction as she glowered.

As she flopped down on the bed, she used the toe of one boot to pry against the heel of the other in order to pull it off, aiming to kick it in Nash's general direction, which, unfortunately, happened to be in Sonja's general direction as well, as he approached the bed with the other woman in tow, before removing the other as well and simply letting it drop to the floor.

"Make sure that "not yet" stays that way. I'm pretty sure by now the mold growing under his bed has taken on animate form." She grinned, a wicked flash of teeth, and then spoke again when the options were given.

"Drunk as hell, drunk as hell!" She chanted, and from within her short cut leather jacket, pulled out a small flask, it's origins a mystery.

A free arm was held open in invitation for either Nash or Sonja to settle in next to her, though if neither decided to, she'd simply shrug and unscrew the cap from her flask to take a nice long swig.

Butter Ripple Schnapps. so sweet, so delicious.

She held the flask out to whoever was next to her, obviously expecting them to each have a swig of it before breaking into the gin that Nash had brought, though Sonja's woes were given some attention as well, and Dottie frowned.

"You were looking after some kids? Like runaways or something?"

It was a bit more on instinct than thought the drove her to settle herself down beside Dottie. The knowledge of a warm body at her side and alcohol that would be running rampant through her system had her lowering herself onto her back beside the fellow pink-haired companion.

" Good to know I haven't fallen so low then... " Now she really wanted to see how bad Tobin's room was. It sounded more hilarious than anything.

" Yeah... None of us had parents 'er nothin' so we kinda made up our own family. Had each others' backs and I made sure, along with the other gang leaders, that there was a sort of balance. " Jaded gaze hooded as she spotted the offered flask and gladly accepted it for a good swig.

It was a sweet but burned all the same. All the way down her throat, into her arms and into her fingers.

" And they'd have better have kept it, " There was a dark undertone to her words, the subtle octave drop for the moment mirrored the frown that occupied it. " Didn't bust my a** all those ********' years just for the system to drop off the face of the earth like I did... "

" Mmm... I'd thought about it, " She plucked a few cookies from the package and popped them into her mouth to chase down the drink. " I gotta look more into it. Gonna be a s**t ton of paperwork but it'd be worth it. At least to ease my nerves enough to sleep properly. "

She shimmied a little in her spot, making enough room for Nash to be on her other side, if he wanted to join them. Physical affection, mean't or not, was welcome to Sonja. Either way, she was in good company with drink and food close by and it was all she could ever really ask for right now.

" I mean... Those kids were good. Some could pickpocket like a damn ghost while others could swindle ya' right outta yer soul if they tried. "

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Nash deadpanned at Dottie, just to be obnoxious. Because he could, and because she was taking the Oreos away from him, which was really not nice or fair at all; he reached out and snatched another.

Nash knew of Sonja's street family; that she would have died for them just as much as Nash would have thrown himself in front of any of the people he considered his family, as much as he was loathed to admit it and most of the time didn't admit. But the difference was that he had them here, and Sonja had left hers behind.

Being alone ached. He hated even the thought of it, as much as he despised sentimentality and all that stemmed from it.

He made himself a bit more comfortable next to the two girls, flopping down beside them both. One arm was pillowing his head, the other still holding a handful of cookies, and it was warm and comfortable and nice here; two people that, in spite of all of Nash's attempts to deny otherwise, mattered to him.

Plus he was like a cat when it came to physical affection anyway.

"Yeah, Dottie n' I can go have a look, if you want," Nash said. "I always wanted to learn how to pickpocket...here, Dottie, lemme try - "

He stretched an arm across Sonja to jab deliberately at Dottie's side.

Dottie wasn't expecting the hug, and gulped down her mouthful of schnapps so quickly because of it that it burned her throat all the way down, and left her spluttering and coughing into her sleeve. Tender moments like this one were, frankly, weird, and the pink haired punk really wasn't used to it at all.

Her face red, and turned away from both of them, she muttered, "It's not a big ******** deal..." But at least managed to refrain from struggling her way out of the grasp, enduring the kiss atop her head with a huff of a sigh.

Of course, because she was now looking away, that meant that she didn't see the jab from Nash coming, and she let out and indignant squawk, turning to level a glare at him before tossing (or rather hurtling) the flask towards his face.

"If I don't strangle dingledick over there first, than ya, I think we could take leave together to check s**t out." She smiled, oh so sweetly at Nash, and then began to relax again.

"Pass the cookies, puke-face."