Open [The Distillery] Songs Over Wine

[Shasshtekssemet]

47th of Summer, 514

Sseth had managed to knot himself into Ssemet’s hair. While the crimson scales added a nice accent to her dark tresses it was rapidly approaching uncomfortably tight. As she took a high stool in the Distillery, she set about untangling the cobra. Having redirected him to settle upon her arms, and having already secured permission to perform in the bar; Ssemet drew out her auric flute from her orange silk sash where it had been tightly bound before.

Over the years Ssemet had learned to never reveal an instrument in a tavern without first receiving permission to play it. It turns out that if a bar keep doesn’t want music in their establishment and their patrons are demanding entertainment, the musician is the one who always loses. Her arms snapped into place and she brought to flute to a lips. Ssemet took a deep breath and began the song she knew best. It was perfect for warming up because she’d played in more times than she could count for the snakelings in the Ekytol nest. The Song of the Southern Snake was a tune that had evolved over decades within her clutch. The proximity to Anhatep had fostered performers especially within her siblings it seemed and so they had played off each other to grow stronger in their arts. The very reason she had come to Zinrah was to seek out a song of these eastern snakes and whatever other songs she might stumble upon. A song was a story that surpassed words and any life had to potential to spark such an epic.

Sseth, so used to reacting to this song from his basket, had slithered up and over her head again. Like some awkward hat he peered from the crown of her head, tongue flickering out to taste the room.

The way the sound filtered in a room so densely walled as this jungle felt instinctively different than the caverns of her nest. It would take practice to adjust to this new environment but until then her lack of skill would show prominently in even her most practiced songs. Even the lack of skill didn’t seem to bother to drinkers overmuch because as she neared the end of her first song, a mug was placed beside her. As the trill finally trailed off, Ssemet bowed her head momentarily and took a long sip of the provided brew. It wasn’t bad by any standards.

She gave the room a moment to offer a suggestion before putting the flute back to her lips.

[Haasha]

She was on business and didn't have to be nervous.
A lot of hungry, racist Dhani gathered in one place for the sole purpose of getting drunk and even more inadequate certainly wasn't the thing to get worried about at all. She was trying to break her fingers instead of just massaging the joints for the whole other reason. She tried to walk as fast as she could, never look back, eyes darting around and the return route repeated endlessly in the head, just for the petching sake of...
She was nervous like a frog that got run over by an unsuspecting Dhani. Death by weight or as a dinner.
Fiddling with he own finger joints, however, helped with the sleep a little - her body told her that she'd probably been up more than eighteen bells. Nerves did, as well. Fear sharpened the dulled senses and helped her think.
"I walk in, I introduce myself, I say that I've come for the wine, I take the bottles - a crate - and drag them back before anybody notices that I'm gone instead of the other errand-runner. And everything will be right."

She walked in, and she heard the flute, and she stopped by the doorway. She was the smallest living being in the bar, she could swear. But the flute, though playing an unknown tune, set her memories flashing for a second or two. It was so familiar, the mild sound over the noise... the northern taverns were like it. For several moments, she stared at the musician. No, the smallest being in the bar seemed to be, surprisingly enough, not her, but that flute-playing woman, she understood. Not that she'd risk coming up to measure, but...
She started, and walked heistily to the bar to meet eyes with the woman at it.
"Excusemeareyoutheownerofthis-..." she took a deep breath. "Good day. I'm working for Shoshakuakamamushi, I'm here to retrieve the ordered wine. Please, I'm in a hurry, I must be back before the mistress wakes."
She almost blew it. Almost. As the owner stared at her for several seconds, definitely both surprised and wary of a weird-looking stranger, Haasha furrowed her brows sternly, making a calm face when everything inside her was turning. The corridors were okay, not much attentive Dhani were passing in the corridors. Here... it was...

"What's up with me? Can't I stand for myself?.. ...No. I can't. But I can do two things quick. Lie and run. So I can at least say I've come prepared."
Still, it felt like she was being watched - that eerie feeling in the back of her head which made her want to turn. She folded her arms and leaned to the wall, secretly trying to get through it, or become absolutely invisible on its background. She could watch all the other Dhani and listen to the flute while she'd be waiting for the owner of the Distillery to come back with the crate.

[Tinnok]

oocIf I made any assumptions about Sseth that are incorrect, smack me!

A fog had lifted, and one that Tinnok was more than grateful of. She had barely had the energy to move let alone train, or get to know the Tunnels of Zinrah in the week or so she had inhabited the tunnels, and Tsuya hadn’t fared much better, mostly napping. In that time Tinnok had found a few types of edible mosses for the two of them to eat, but she had desperately wanted to escape, forage for fruit, perhaps some meat that she could cook before returning to the tunnels, though to be honest she wasn’t even sure if Tsuya would eat meat…but all of these grand machinations just to survive had been wiped clean with the heaviness of the stupor Zinrah had been under, which Tinnok had learned as many others had, was because of a plant…

And now? Well now she needed a drink. Tomorrow she would head off into the jungle, both as a release from the eternal darkness of Zinrah, as well as to check on her biome and make sure that all was well. The idea of sneaking around the Zinrah barricade that she had once been a part of her tasks as a solider struck her with a harsh irony, a smile playing on her lips as she strode into the Distillery.

It was strangely structured this place, and much lighter than almost any other place she had been. A light flute played in the corner, drawing Tinnok’s attention to a graceful woman with a peculiar serpent she had never seen before, her eyes focusing on the snake. Beady black eyes connected to glowing yellow ones and Tinnok drew in a deep breath as she saw and felt Sseth’s memories. She had never met a creature from the desert. She had heard of the place from her half Eyparian friend Aya, and from other Myrians who spoke of such lands more as a sort of myth than reality. But the memories of warmth, lands punctuated by only sun and golden sand, plants peppering the landscape, but not dominating it, they flooded through her now. These images changed to the comfort of the containers the snake was usually kept in for travel and his constant companion of the Dhani before her still playing a lilting tune that the half breed could never hope to match.

For a chime or two the half breed’s gaze remained transfixed upon the serpent, the two communicating silently through her link to Phylonura, then she slowly forced her gaze away and strode over to the bar, placing her Gnosis marked arm upon the bar. Nessyl turned, her form that of an elegant human this even and took stock of the half breed in one sweeping gaze.

“I heard about you Witch, not often we get one with your blood walking freely.” She smiled sweetly, and Tinnok returned a smile just as sweet.

“Myrian grog.” She said simply.

Nessyl rolled her eyes. “The mannersss alone give you away.” Tinnok flipped a bikka onto the table. It was more than enough for the thick mixture of her homeland, but that meant Nessyl could keep them coming. The Dhani eyed the bone coin incredulously for a moment, but seemed to get the idea as she tucked away the coin and replaced it with a wooden cup filled to the brim with a dark frothing liquid. Tinnok nodded her thanks, and sat on one of the stools, edging it onto a somewhat even spot on the stone floor so she wasn’t liable to tip herself over. That was when her head swiveled and noticed Haasha. She raised her cup in way of greeting to the fellow half breed then took a long swig and turned her attention back to the flute player and her curious snake, wondering if she could learn more of the desert lands from the eyes of the creature that had seen them…

Word Count653

[Shasshtekssemet]

Ssemet eyed the shifting scene over her flute. WHen no request was forthcoming she began to the song popular on the streets Nyka. She did not stumble but it lacked the fluidity of her previous piece, clearly less practiced. The gentle whispers of sands gone, her tone remarked a tension that lay beneath the surface of the citizen’s of Nyka. Upbeat in a dangerous sort of way.

As she played Sseth thankfully withdrew from her crown; trailing down her back and on to the table. Shifting to watch the cobra Ssemet nearly missed a note as the snake slithered across surfaces towards the bar. Instead of missing her note she held it too long before continuing breaking completely the rhythm of the tune. Hopefully none knew the song well enough to see her slip, she began again fretfully watching the crimson serpent.

Sseth came to rest before Tinnok, he came to tell the woman the story of their trip to Nyka. Of performing from his basket with Ssemet for the humans. And then again of the blistering sands of the desert. He clearly lacked an understanding of linear time but all the same he tried to speak with her. The cobra tried to slither up on to her arm.

All the while Ssemet watched in horror, dearly hoping Sseth did not bite the woman. She would dearly miss her companion if he were turned out for being dangerous. During a rest she took an unnecessarily deep breath and turned back to the crowd, pushing the problem from her mind until the song was complete. Even still her mind wandered for in the crowd lay another oddity. Her eyes locked with the half-breed who had just severe features but not entirely unserpentine. What stories might such an interesting individual hold? The first may be the greatest, what was she?

As the final note drew to an authoritative close, Ssemet lowered the golden flute. Reaching back she took up her mug in her left hand and indulged into another swig, all the while her gaze never left Haasha. Curiosity flared behind the viper’s darked-lidded eyes. Reaching out with her right hand, her shockingly crimson-veined hand, she pointed and curved two fingers towards Haasha. Drawing from within her being, where her soul and music resided intwine, djed followed the pathways to her eyes and she sent out the gentle hypnotic nudge to the young woman, Come here. Certainly no command it could easily be ignored. The suggestion was just that and nothing more. If Sseth had not yet stricken the other woman, he likely would not. Ssemet would handle one curiosity at a time.

[Haasha]

One of the bar's customers rose a mug in her direction, and as soon as Haasha intercepted the move, she recognized another half-breed sitting at the table not far away. The corners of the young woman's mouth twitched and trembled in a confused attempt for a friendly smile, and she seriously contemplated trying to walk through the wall. She rose a hand to signify that she'd noticed, and stayed on the same place. The half-Myrian seemed alive and well for some reason. Didn't the snakes bother her? That was interesting. For a moment, Haasha reflected on the purposes of drinking. Was the work that hard, the woes that bad or was it difficult to get fresh water here? No, not the latter, of course - the streams and below would definitely provide. Drinking in celebration never even touched her mind, although she'd seen it.
The half-Myrian's attention turned from her, and she exhaled. She felt much more comfortable in the corner. Waiting for the woman to come from the cellar, she accidentally locked gazes with the flutist, who seemed to have decided on a pause and a drink. The woman gestured her to come closer, and the hald-blood made a step forward without thinking. On the second step her reluctance to meet the woman clashed with the wish to walk forward. It was unnatural, strange. Haasha stopped, dropping her gaze to the floor and passing a hand over her face, then returned her attention to the flutist. The latter seemed to be interested in the half-Myrian woman now... maybe...
"Did she just charm me?" tiny pins of ice prickled down her back, and the half-blood walked to the flutist, on her own accord that time. "How'd she do that?"
She came up, painting a light smile on her face once again.
The stranger's hand came to mind, when she'd outstretched it. There was something strange with her skin that she didn't quite catch. Was the flutist woman sick?
"Warm winds and waters to you."
Something had to be said, something about music, possibly? And an introduction, she shouldn't forget one. Haasha made herself attune to the small talks. They never were her strongest side.
"The melodies you play have come from many lands, have they not? You are a talented musician. Are you staying in Zinrah this season?"
She asked far too many questions to consider herself polite, and took heist to shut up, folding her palms together and pressing on the lower one nervously.

[Tinnok]

Tinnok was a bit surprised at how eagerly the serpent wound its way over to her. She did not know much of snake breeds, but one thing she was always wary of was if a snake was either horrifyingly dull colored, or extremely bright. A bright red snake, especially in a place with no plants or trees, only sand, could easily be picked up by predators, unless of course, all predators knew to avoid such a serpent, because he was poisonous.

She extended two fingers, letting Sseth’s tongue dart out and taste her before he wound himself around her arm, sliding up around her shoulders, eagerly telling her his story. The flashes and smells changed from one of heat and sun to dirt, sweat, and clusterings of people, not land. They way the snake flickered back and forth from Nyka to the Desert had Tinnok a bit off center for a while, but as she returned memories of the jungle she felt the snake calm and the images and smells came slower. She sipped on her drink slowly, urging the snake to focus back upon the city. The half breed was vaguely aware that normal barbarian cities were not like Zinrah and Taloba. They were not filled with trees, Tskanna, Ashta, and tigers, nor were they complex tunnels beneath the ruins of an old city. Yet even so, the distorted memories that filtered through her mind seemed so wrong. How could one live in a place that was more man-made then blessed by Caiyha? Tinnok felt ill at ease just glancing through Sseth’s mind, though it seemed as long as places were warm he didn’t seem to mind his environment.

The half breed lifted two fingers, stroking the flat top of the snake’s head gently, missing her own serpentine companion in the form of the large constrictor, Nissila. She had left her in the wilds, not wanting to cause her any unhappiness by bringing her into damp dark caves where she would be unfamiliar with the food sources and alarmed by the lack of light. She still missed Nissila’s comforting weight around her shoulders, the way she squeezed her arms if she needed something, despite the link the two shared through Tinnok’s phylonura mark.

Glancing up and taking another measured sip of the thick dark liquid, Tinnok glanced at Haasha, who seemed to be speaking with the strange flutist. With a sudden lack of attention, Sseth slid back down her arm, coiling around her wrist and taking in the rest of the room, which was right around the time Nessyl swept over with another mug of grog ready, only to realize the half breed was barely half way through her first one.

“You’ll need to drink that fassster if you want to make the mossst of your bikka, monkey.”

Tinnok glanced over. “Can leave, maybe get drink ‘nother time?”

The Constrictor raised one perfectly angle eyebrow. “You want me to keep a tab for you?”

Tinnok shrugged and Nessyl threw up a hand in exasperation as she disappeared from view to go serve another customer. In her absence the half breed continued to study the patrons of the bar, wondering if it was always so crowded here or if it was partially due to the events of the season, maybe trying to drown the memories of what they had done over the season in a strong drink. And how much alcohol did a Dhani need to consume to get drunk?

Word Count580

[Shasshtekssemet]

As the half-breed neared, Ssemet ran her eyes over the severe contours of her face. As the young woman spoke the viper raised her starkly red-veined hand out as if to grab her chin, to angle her for a better look but stopped short. Lowering her hand she held it palm up for the girl to set her own in, “Indeed and Clear skies and plentiful watersss to you.” It was clear even amidst the severity of her features that the other woman was considerably younger than the Dhani, there were few races as long lived as the snake-people and so the assumption of youth was not terribly uncalled for. Ssemet would soon be old enough to be considered an elder as well, that played a part. “My musssic iss from my travelss. It iss the besst way to learn I think. Thank you but your compliment isss too kind.”

The question hung heavy on her humanoid tongue, how she wished to flick it out and taste the woman’s feelings upon the air. “Ssstaying? Yess I will be here for sssometime I have taken a cave here. And you?” Her eyes finally ripped away to ascertain Sseth had still failed to maim or kill. There would likely to be a ruckus from that corner if circumstances change. What gave this non-dhani the ability to walk peacefully among the winding tunnels of the nest. Only one option came to mind immediately, “Have you a Massster in thiss crowd?” Ssemet looked out over the room again, in the corner three constrictor Dhani were racking up a rather impressive pile of dirty mugs though the barmaid seemed to be removing them as quickly as she could. A contest perhaps? They were beginning to get loud, her flute music would have fallen into the background over the growing fracas.

Grabbing her own mug once more the Dhani took a swallow and then returned to the matter at hand, “Tell me child, from what parentss does such an ecsssotic face come?” Not the most polite question though not phrased to offend, besides how often were the Dhani polite to the non-snake races? Adjusting her orange over robe the viper waited for woman’s reply.

Sseth on the other hand was beginning to find the drunkards displeasing. First flickering his tongue to test the waters and then beginning to draw himself up in a defensive posture. His hood yet remained unflared but he swayed gently belieing his true agitation. Perhaps Tinnok who was so near him though, being his perch from which he coiled, would recognize the truth. Ssemet was too engrossed still with Haasha to have noticed the growing situation.

[Haasha]

"If it is truth that is complimented, I do not feel obliged to shame myself." her smile was open now, a light bow of the head added so that a gesture would not be considered impudence.
The half-blood enjoyed the fleeting inspiration with which words combined into neat patterns in her mind. Her smile showed a little less strain and even some kind of sincerity crept in. That was a strange phrase that rolled off her tongue just then... on the other hand... could she repeat it? The words and expressions seemed to bear a distant familiarity... some legend about a musician, was it? She couldn't remember. But a thought visited her... being that fancy-talking, maybe it could be used? It seemed to sometimes find the right click in others' minds. Interesting.
"Yes. I-... think I can say that I live here."
"Been living for thirty days, I guess the locals have either grown used to me, or mundane in their puns."
"My Mistress is resting. I'm here to fetch the wine for her chambers." the half-blood replied. She had no reason to lie; also, a word into reputation of an honest and truthful servant could serve her well in future, despite the racial... incompleteness.
She cast a look to where the half-Myrian was sat, with a snake around her hand. It was strange, seeing a tame snake... but what did she have to be surprised with, truly, when she was in the middle of a snake city? Maybe, the Myrian had more cold blood than she did, and that's why they were looking related... She strangled a pang of jealousy - she'd never had pets, not the ones she could or would have time to bond with. Upkeeping the smile was more important than the regrets of the past, however.
"My mother was a beautiful woman who bore a Symenestra legacy." she'd tread on that territory before, with the Viper, and now could think of a better answer. "I did my best to take after many of her virtues but not this one, apparently."
The smile faded all the way at that point. The half-blood's look pinned to the table, by the flutist's hand.
She felt awkward at once, with all those fancy words to cover up for simple truths that she couldn't make look better anyway.
Turning attention to the drunken Dhani, she noted that it was probably time for her to leave. Before any brawl could possibly start and any bones could be possibly broken.
"I think there goes the wine. Apologies, I have to make my leave. Hopefully, we will meet again." she looked the flutist into the eyes briefly, and turned to walk off.
The crate was heavy, and the rough wood made her want to hope that she wouldn't get a splinter in her palm. At least not too mane. Grunting, but hugging the crate tight, she made her way to the exit.

This is speech. | These are thoughts. | This is Symenos. | This is Snake-Tongue.

[Tinnok]

She was aware of the increasing noise from one alcove, growing slowly, but steadily. Sseth began winding himself around her wrist, clearly agitated, and Tinnok turned her yellow eyes over to the corner. They were three bulky sods, drinking heavily, their tails flicking back and forth in earnest as they took long guzzling draughts from their mugs. She blinked once, trying to ascertain the game. It seemed they would converse, hunched together though their words had long ceased being whispers. There would be a question posed to one of them, then based on the answer either the one who asked the question would drink, or the other two would be forced to.

She studied their body posture. They were slouching, and though she could barely make out the hisses they sounded slurred. Perhaps the answer to her previous question was sitting in a heaping pile of empty tankards on the table before them.

Sseth was weaving back and forth, and she glimpsed then just a hint of the hood on the serpent. She carefully placed her two fingers at the back of his head, stroking gently from there down to the base of his hood a few times, murmuring quietly to him while sending calming thoughts, she knew Nissila had always felt the most comfort when digesting food in her stomach and napping in the bright sun, she sent these thoughts, second hand from her own snake into Sseth’s mind, feeling him calm, but only somewhat, and very temporarily.

She did not want to accidentally get bitten by a poisonous serpent so she wrapped the snake around her neck and rose, finishing her grog in one long draught that made her throat burn and eyes water. Her yellow eyes caught sight of Nessyl staring warily at the corner, and then they turned to Tinnok.

“Half breed…what do you think you’re going to do?”

The Witch shrugged. “Nothing, Just want drink in…peace.” She grinned and first walked over to the flutist and Haasha who were conversing, gently lifting Sseth from around her neck and curling him up on the table before them. “Sorry.” She said in apology for interrupting the flow of conversation. “Your snake is worry, not want him to bite, better with you?” She smiled, then stood up straight, cracking her knuckles and turning back towards the table of three constrictors, which at this point had basically drawn attention from everyone in the bar.

She strode over, the flood of alcohol in her system throwing a bit of swagger into her hips that the half breed normally did not carry. As she walked she turned inward, reaching inside herself and pulling out her Djed. She felt a thrill of excitement wrench in her gut as she guided the power down from her center through each arm, letting the magical essence pool in her hands, spreading it out to flood into her fingers, lining her palms, stopping just past each wrist. She hadn’t done anything with the magic when both palms slammed down onto the table, silencing all three constrictors simultaneously as bright and slitted eyes rotated towards her.

“Can I join?” She said pleasantly, a smile playing on her face. It was strange, this self-awareness she had. Even amongst the lethargy that had gripped her and the rest of the city, it hadn’t taken long to see that everyone knew who she was, what she was. Her Gnosis mark, clearly visible, and the strange reluctant permission of Siku seemed to hold a sort of barrier between her and the residents of the city that otherwise would have loved to torture and maim her. She was aware of this just as they were, but that didn’t mean they needed to be kind, or accepting, and it wasn’t what she expected, and it had been no different in Taloba.

The silence between her and the three serpents dragged on. She wasn’t sure if it was their level of inebriation, perhaps a curiosity that most Myrians didn’t possess, or something else entirely, but one dun colored Constrictor spoke first in common.

“You will lossse, even with amount we have drunk already, you will losses firssst.” Tinnok glanced back at Nessyl, who nodded and brought out another tray of grog. Tinnok leaned forward, glancing into their tankards. As she did this, the half breed released the djed she had collected, feeling it slide back up her arms and back from whence it came. She felt a bit of disappointment at the fact the Constrictors hadn’t attacked her or started a fight, 9/10 times it was what a Myrian would do, but she had started learning things were a bit different here.

“But mine is strong.” She said as Nessyl brought her a few more mugs of the grog. All three Dhani peered forward only to turn their noses up at the admittedly foul liquid brewed by the Myrians. Another Constrictor laughed.

“Jusst like a monkey, drinking pisss inssstead of alcohol.”

Tinnok shrugged. “Just tell me how play game.”

The rules were simple. Going around in a circle a person would be asked a question from one of the other players. They would answer this question, and then it was up to the other players to decide if the person had told a lie or the truth. If the group guessed correctly the individual would have to take a drink, if the group guessed wrong, they would have to drink. If the individual was caught lying they had to down a whole drink, but Tinnok was alarmed to find that lying was encouraged, pretty heavily.

Tinnok was of course first to be questioned. There was a silent fight over who would ask the question first, but the dun colored Constrictor was first and she had a sly smile on her face.

“Have you ever petched a Dhani?”

“Yes.” Tinnok said barely a tick after the question had been asked. She smirked as she saw all three heads look puzzled at one another. She pondered then. Should she have hesitated? Made it seem more like a lie? Or was it good she had been so forthright, perhaps in trying to sound confident they would think she was bluffing.

Chimes passed, and Tinnok was pleased to note that because of her presence, they were back to whispering, a lull returned to the bar, and she thought she spied a grateful expression on Nessyl’s features when she glanced behind the bar.

“You lie.” Said the Dun Constrictor, looking sly again, but this expression wavered when Tinnok’s face split open and she began laughing, trying to remember the last time she had really laughed like that…it had been a long time.

“No, truth.” She said, and before the Dhani could begin to protest she held up a hand. “His name Mamoru, he was pale, spent time with Aka.” She shivered “Creepy one.” There was a moment of conference then the three Constrictors took their tankards and downed large swallows of their drinks.

“Alright half blood, your turn to ask a quesstion.” Tinnok pondered thoughtfully, looking at the gravel colored Dhani who was next, then glanced over to Haasha and the Dhani flutist.

“Would snake owner and Haasha like join?” She said.

“What issss thisss your party, Witch?” One of the constrictors grumbled.

Word Count1,214

[Shasassedna]

Sashae was just exiting Siku's shrine, concluding her daily litany, when an upbeat tune drifted to her ears. The notes bore an urgent staccato tonality which hinted at danger and subterfuge. The musician was good, and Sashae's interest was thoroughly peaked. Slithering down the declivous path away from the shrine, she followed the tune down a long side tunnel. Carefully wary of the low hanging stalactites, she stopped in front of a large, refined cavern. Sashae peered through the doorway with a curious grin. “Well isn't this an interesting crowd,” she hissed to herself as she eyed the distillery's rather blended inhabitants. Gliding through the door, she gave the bar tender what she hoped was a friendly nod – these constrictors were still quite... curt... at times. And in her experience anyone with the gall to cater to the drunken ad nauseam could be even more so. Smiling she layed a single gold miza on the counter top, “Something with a nice bite would be lovely. But not too harsh, if you can manage it.” The bartender looked down right insulted, and Sashae gave an appologetic hiss. She really had to work on her table – side manner. The bartender slid her a large mug of bubbling something, and Sashae eyed it frugally. It had better be good, she thought to herself noting the absence of any change. She took a small, calculating sip and was immediately met with a startlingly tart burst of flavour. Puckering a bit, she shook her head in surprise, and then gave the barmaid an impressed and appreciative grin before slithering away to survey the coterie hanging about. She noted the flautist, her pigmentation and comparatively small size, and immediately thought she must be one of her own. With a rise of her mug and a deep bow of her head Sashae ventured over to the Viper, careful not to interrupt the conversation already in progress with an... interesting... looking young thing, and laid two gold mizas tenderly beside her tall stool. As she waited for the appropriate chance to introduce herself and strike up some conversation about he Southern Sands, she heard a woman address the flautist and the other, whom she named Haasha. It seemed that some sort of drinking game was afoot, and by the look of the woman conducting it, things could get very interesting very quickly. Never one to shy away from a curious situation, Sashae met the woman's slitted yellow eyes with a brazen, almost mischievous grin. “Well, I don't know about thessse two, but I would love to join.” She wound her way around to a (barely) open seat on one side of the table, and waited politely for some indication from either the three large Dhani or the woman with the intriguing snake eyes. The lilt of her Eyktolian roots was heavy as she keened in the common tongue, “That isss, if the four of you don't mind....?” ....