Because of the small amount of short-sightedness she happened to have, Heather perhaps didn’t have the best vision, especially when she didn’t wear her glasses-which she rarely did-but she heard well enough. Albeit a bit selective, she had a good memory as well, her mind taking a note of things spoken in the hotel room as they were lines of a play that needed to be memorized. Admiring herself in the mirror was hardly a challenging task, so she had no trouble following the flight attendant’s words. Words that briefly explained the rules of a game, which she didn’t hear before. She had to give it to Connie. The charming stewardess’ explanation of the game had been made quite clearly, easy to understand. It shouldn’t be a surprise, however, a stewardess being a well-spoken lady, that is. Heather supposed they went through some training for that, similar to how she thought Connie must have been trained to almost always carry a happy smile on her face, if that didn’t come naturally with her upbeat personality.<br/><br/>“Have never heard of it…” The fact that Molly already knew about the party game in question meant it wasn’t an original idea that was invented by the flight attendant and her friends in Bangkok. Unzipping the small cosmetics bag she had with her, the woman pulled out a lipstick from the pouch. “I thought you did want to keep your little skirt.” Her claim was aimed at the stewardess as she could recall what Connie had said about using her imagination before she hit the shower not too long ago. Her lips slightly parted as the woman flashed a cheerful smile, not out of amusement however. The lipstick slowly ran across her lips as she swiped it gently, giving her lips some volume and a coral hue. Sharing little stories, unfolding small slices of one’s life, it didn’t sound to be a bad pastime. It could put her in a confusing situation though, since no matter how unbelievable, some of her so-called stories were in fact true. Only, they happened in front of camera and for an audience.<br/><br/>From the looks of things, regardless of if one had told a lie, or spoken the truth, someone would end up with less clothes. It was a strip game alright, embellished with storytelling. According to the rules narrated by the flight attendant, Heather failed to see the advantage of not just telling the truth however. Of course, the sheer success of fooling an audience would have been enough to satisfy any actress, but she doubted the others had this same ulterior motive. Despite what puzzled her mind though, she didn’t voice her concern to allow Connie to finish. “You are forming a little cult over there, I see.” The woman mocked the ceremony Connie tried to establish, unsurprisingly not rising up from her seat to put her hand. Instead, her fingers worked on her eyes. Dark eyeliner gave them thin wings, black mascara improved the thickness and length of her lashes to make her eyes pop more, as if wearing her warpaint for an upcoming conflict.<br/><br/>Finally turning on her seat, Heather eyed the other three. Despite her almost contemptuous demeanour, she didn’t really doubt anyone’s honesty. Not being a bashful woman, she wouldn’t be afraid to involve in a game of Bull and Bare. “Good. I can’t help but wonder though…” She started. “Shouldn’t there be an additional perk to encourage lying.” And lying in question here was in quotes. As it was now, she didn’t see anything that would reward the risk of fabricating a faux story. “Like a task to impose upon a certain believer.” If the opportunity knocked, she would have adored instructing others. “Someone of raconteur’s choice.” Heather’s now-more-enchanting eyes gazed upon the members of the sisterhood before her. Searching for a hint of concern on their cute faces. If she had found one, to make a note of it, for later.