"I need ichor --- no, bloodspiced -- No." Damn you, that's not what I need. Fingertips tapped restlessly in an uneven stacatto. Ivory claws clicked, making tiny indentations in the pristine, heavy polish of the bar. "Tequila? Tequila. Bottle and glass."

Tequila? Coward. The word was hissed in an infernal tongue, audible only to the silver-haired priestess. That's a mortal's drink. Don't you have the constitution for anything stronger. . . worried about lowering your defences to little ole' me?

Yeah, that's it. Alysia barked with loud, cynical laughter, mostly unaware of the strange looks being cast her way. Instead, she glared at her reflection in the mirror, then lifted the shot glass in salute to the mirror before downing the tequila. Coward I may be, but this will shut you up long enough to get a moment's peace.

She stared rudely at several familiar faces which, for some reason, felt unfamiliar. Some of them stared back, boldly curious or unnerved. Most of them looked away.

Kairee asked, "Something on your mind, Alysia?"

"On my mind," muttered Alysia. "You've no idea."

In her mind, caustic, mocking laughter hissed. Darkness, you're really going to drink more of that garbage? Do you really think it will help? Alysia held the second shot close to her mouth and her shadowed eyes drifted toward Kairee. She offered a bitter, cynical smile and tossed back the shot, grinning without mirth. The priestess looked at the bottle Falcon had fetched, studying it as if seeing it for the first time.

"I could if you would open up. I'm not interested in prying it out of people's minds tonight," said Kairee.

After several moments, Alysia responded, "Hearing voices." She added flatly, "Drink helps."

"Nonsense..." Kairee disagreed. "It just dulls the senses but doesn't deal with the issue at hand. Whose voices are you hearing?"

"They're all mine." Alysia muttered angrily. Her ears were ringing. "All of them. They shouldn't be, but by now. . ." She turned and stared, completely uncomprehending, as Kitty Helston came down the stairs, caterwauling an off-color song. With that distraction, a moment of silence fell across Alysia's muddled thoughts.

Hawk Jahad pushed from his lean on the bar and dug into his cloak, pulling a silver flask free that gleamed brilliantly in the light. He placed the unopened flask upon the bar before Alysia. "This may help," he said with a simple nod to her, turning to the singing Kitty.

Look, it's shiny. . . The sparkle and gleam of the silver flask drew her eye. She observed the pale contours of her face in the shiny surface, then sneered to herself. In the next moment, that expression was lost behind another swallow of tequila. Alysia distantly watched Kitty and Krysira as she refilled the shot glass with a mostly steady hand.

Intoxicants won't drown me out, Alysia. You can still hear me. . .

Aye, like a donkey braying in the middle of the night.

Right, hee-haw!

Alysia laughed again, not quite raucously -- but close. She set the glass down and lowered her head, covering her ears with her hands and clutching her skull.

"Safeevah," Hawk answered, the word's utterance rolling guttural from his tongue. "It is a rose native to my homeland. The water is drawn from it and it is set to ferment." He took another sip and offered it again. "It tastes sweet, but has a bite at the end. I am sure it shall silence whatever it is that troubles, m'lady."

Sticky sweet. . . The words in her mind were a fragment of a whisper. "No, nothing sweet," Alysia shuddered and looked away from Hawk. "You're kind to offer."

Tasslehofl broke off from a quiet conversation with Kitty. There was a nod, and he looked to Alysia. "It may not be permanent, but I can offer ... silence... for a time."

Crimson eyes narrowed at Tass in consideration. When Alysia spoke, she did so very carefully. There was a languid drawl to her words, courtesy of the tequila. "And you are kind to offer. But I'm ill accustomed to any but one meddling with my mind or psyche."

Tasslehofl nodded. "That is why I would offer nothing permanent."

Not just one, but all of them silent. . . who would I be without them? Would I even exist without them? A moment of fear surgered through the priestess. Her scowl returned, deepened. "You'd break that which you sought to fix. I'll work through it."

"Where *is* Emma?" Kitty squinted at Alysia.

"Ms. Frost is looking for answers to unpleasant questions," answered Alysia.

"Ahh. Well, if they were pleasant questions, I doubt she'd be interested in them." Kitty gnawed on a claw, absently.

Hawk's movements were smooth, even the mundane made deft and dangerous. He pulled the flask back towards him and took another sip. "Sweet it may be, but harsh once swallowed. And much stronger than what you drink." He dipped his head. "If you change your mind, the offer stands."

She turned back to Hawk Jahad, held out her hand in silent, expectant demand of the offered flask. His finely wrought features shifted momentarily, displaying a bit of what seemed like satisfaction before reverting to his normal stoic facade. He held the flask out to her.

Alysia snatched the flask away and took several long swallows of the shireeni stuff, gulping it down quick enough to not taste it until it burns her throat. She returned the gleaming flask back to Hawk Jahad, muttering, "Daft enough not to drink poison. . ."

"A stranger I may be to you, but well known enough about this place. The few who do know me would be rather amazed to find anything that could cause harm in that flask." The rumble of baritone in his voice was tainted by his odd accent, and the odd arrangement of words. He reclaimed his flask. "I am Hawk Jahad, most know me as the Ranger."

To one side, Kitty mulled over the lyrics to another raucous song.

"Ha. . . Still, you must admit, this is an amazing place." Alysia's dark eyes were drawn back to the mirror for a moment; cautious, warily checking the reality against the reflection Her words were disjointed, yet languorous. She stared again at Hawk. "Full of harm. But I trust you."

"It would not be RhyDin without danger at every turn." The sweeping line of crimson that was the only marr upon Hawk's face became continuous momentarily when he winked. "And that is what makes it so much fun."

Alysia swayed. "Crap," she mumbled in contempt.

Kitty hummed under her breath, then goaded by Tass, she cleared her throat and burst into song: "Ohhh He grabbed me around my slender neck, I could not call or scream. He took me to his dingy room where we could not be seeeen." She leaned from one side to the other, continuing to caterwaul. "He tore away my flimsy wrap and took upon my form. I was so cold and damp and scared, while he was hot and warm. His fervent lips he pressed to mine, I gave him every drop." She leaned the other way. "He drained me of my very self. I could not make him stop!"

Alysia stretched to reach over the bar, almost overbalancing before pronouncing a blasphemous oath and slinking around the bar instead. She opened the Inn's register, elfin features set in muddled concentration. "That. . . helps. The singing?" If that's what it was. Alysia paused to look up at Kitty, not commenting on the lyrics.

"He made me what I am today. That's why you find me here. A broken bottle thrown away..." Kitty paused dramatically, then continued the song, "that once was full of beer!"

The priestess smirked and scritched a name in the register before swiping a key with an unsteady hand. Her thoughts were far from her surroundings, drowning in the silence afforded by entirely too much drink. She made her way up the stairs with slow, exaggerated caution.

To sleep, with melody ringing in her ears.