She senses something off.
It’s only confirmed once she pays close enough attention to his working to notice how oddly uncoordinated he was during fixing up an endoskeleton, the clown getting up to draw near and rest a hand over his own,
“ I can tell sumn’ is amiss, sunflowa’. Ya ain’t this ditzy, that’s my job. You — are you hiccuping or choking ? “
She’s trying real hard not to shift into protection mode.
He probably shouldn't be doing this with a buzz. It made his work sloppy even if it did clear his mind of more bothersome thoughts. He couldn't get drunk... not in the usual way he used to. Liquor went right through him. Literally. He hand holes in is stomach from the springlock failure. He had found that overcharging in a charge station or similar had the same effect though.
William gave a soft chuckle to the clown. "I'm just a bit overcharged, dear Betty. The equivalent of one too many glasses of bourbon." He explained. "Theirs no need to worry." He told her as he paused in his work to raise her hand to the mouth of his suit in a gentlemanly kiss... before hiccupping again drunkenly.














