"It doesn't do that to the fey. Just mortals," she says, eating the salad. "They like giving it to mortals because ... well... it's more fun that way."
"The fey are actually more like the deities... but not as powerful. They can be rather malicious and don't exactly think the same way people like us do because they exist in terms of ... pure magic and timelessness.
"They think a drunk mortal is more fun because there's less inhibitions and so they can get them to things that they'd normally wouldn't do."
"They sound very like the deities. I have no desire to meet any of them; one group of beings with powers and some control over us is more than enough."
"They created you? Then no, you're good to be wary. Anyone with the power to create likely has just as much power to destroy."
But that's not terribly cheerful. Chekov brightens and pushes one of the shot glasses closer to Laruna. "You have eaten enough to try this without many ill effects, I should think."
"All of life is canon fodder, creator or not," he replies cheerfully. It's just a fact.
"No, no, but you are allowed to do that. At home, we never drink without a toast." Chekov raises his own shot glass. "Za tvajo zdarovye. And now we drink."
"Here." Maybe it's an odd question, but Chekov can't imagine what wizards do in their spare time (unless those wizards are Howl, of course, but not all wizards can spend that much time on their hair). "I only think that it would be boring for you in the City, with so little magic."
"My magic can't do a lot of things. It just allows me to manipulate water," she says, smiling though. "So, all my magic is my own. Currently I've been exploring and trying to figure out a lot of the technology. And of course going drinking and dancing."
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"What is more fun? And the word fey... I don't know it. Are they at all like wizards?"
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"They think a drunk mortal is more fun because there's less inhibitions and so they can get them to things that they'd normally wouldn't do."
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But that's not terribly cheerful. Chekov brightens and pushes one of the shot glasses closer to Laruna. "You have eaten enough to try this without many ill effects, I should think."
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But! Onto drinking because she needs one now.
"Good. Do you just down it?" Because she will.
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"No, no, but you are allowed to do that. At home, we never drink without a toast." Chekov raises his own shot glass. "Za tvajo zdarovye. And now we drink."
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Then she drinks a horribly thoughtful expression on her face.
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"What do you think of it?"
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Give her a few more tries.
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"It has a different bite to it," she says.
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And, more seriously: "Laruna, what do you like to do? For fun, I mean."
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And having sex with people.
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"I could help you with the technology, if you like. The drinking and dancing... eh. I like those things, but you are likely better at both."
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"I would! My brother's mentioned things like it before but he's no help. And I could help you with the drinking and dancing."
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"That would be a fair exchange, I think."
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"Wonderful!" She lifts up her glass and butchers the toast again.