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Being a degenerate is okay these days
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Well shit. Was that a challenge, Alice?

Logically, Raina knew that Alice wasn't doubting her so much as the terrible, impossible circumstances they'd been thrown into. Nothing rankled her more than having her intelligence and capability questioned, though, and she almost unconsciously drew herself up taller in response.

"There's always something to do," she said. Not that impressive a boast, but hell. If David Bowman could outsmart a psychotic computer in the deep space, she could outsmart a bunch of assholes in a control tower, or wherever said assholes who had dumped them here were located. "I don't know what, yet. But we'll think of something." She doubted that either Johnny or Alice would get the reference, given how few people her age had even seen 2001: A Space Odyssey, much less read the novel, but those were the most important words in the book: But he would think of something.

"You should hold onto that," Raina indicated the bunting string Alice had been given. "You never know what it might come in handy for. No wasting resources." Right, they had resources. A whole island full of resources, and potential allies, and plenty of time to come up with a plan. It was early yet.

Suddenly filled with purpose, Raina uncrossed her arms and went to pick up the bag that had been left by the tub she'd woken up in. It was damp, thanks to the water puddling on the floor, and she almost cringed as she thought of what might be inside, but she picked it up and shouldered it.

"Stick with us as long as you like. We'll find somewhere safe - and dry - to plan things out, and you can stay there or not. But let's get the hell out of here, I hate this place."

She also gave Johnny a Look™ and eyed the offered cigarettes with distate. "You know I don't smoke, Johnny, and I'm not going to start now. We're not down and out just yet." She decided not to address his joke about the lung cancer, or their diminished chances of contracting such. That sort of thing was counterproductive. Raina Rose wasn't going to die here, and if she had her way, Johnny and everybody else was going to live a long, full life, with enough time for her to bitch about his poor hygiene and smoking habits forever more.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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World's End Girlfriend · Water Treatment