[Ah. She probably should have mentioned the alcohol sooner. Almost guiltily, she reaches up to toy with a strand of hair, all but tugging it free of the pins it's been put up with. It's getting on in the night, no one would fault her for looking the slightest bit unkempt. At least this keeps her from completely panicking, right?]
Under normal circumstances, no, you wouldn't. [Despite the faint layer of guilt forming at having given him the drink without a word, she manages to find a playful smile.] But, with all due respect, you don't look like the type of guy who's ever had a drink in his life.
[Translation: You're a lightweight, and she knows it. Granted, she only knows it because she recognizes her own kind. Lord knows she can't handle more than one mug of badland grog herself. She doubts she'll be able to get away with more than one glass, and that might have been pushing it if she didn't take it slow.]
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be bothered, having to take care of you - [She winces at her own phrasing β just coming right out with that, huh?] but I don't want you to feel... uncomfortable.
[There's a level of vulnerability that comes from being drunk. It's not the kind of thing she thinks Millions Knives wants to experience in a crowded room full of potentially unruly people.]
So just... take it easy. Enjoy the flavor. [She cranes her neck, looking for any appetizers going around.] And make sure you eat something too, just in case!
Meanwhile, back at the Masquerade
[Ah. She probably should have mentioned the alcohol sooner. Almost guiltily, she reaches up to toy with a strand of hair, all but tugging it free of the pins it's been put up with. It's getting on in the night, no one would fault her for looking the slightest bit unkempt. At least this keeps her from completely panicking, right?]
Under normal circumstances, no, you wouldn't. [Despite the faint layer of guilt forming at having given him the drink without a word, she manages to find a playful smile.] But, with all due respect, you don't look like the type of guy who's ever had a drink in his life.
[Translation: You're a lightweight, and she knows it. Granted, she only knows it because she recognizes her own kind. Lord knows she can't handle more than one mug of badland grog herself. She doubts she'll be able to get away with more than one glass, and that might have been pushing it if she didn't take it slow.]
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be bothered, having to take care of you - [She winces at her own phrasing β just coming right out with that, huh?] but I don't want you to feel... uncomfortable.
[There's a level of vulnerability that comes from being drunk. It's not the kind of thing she thinks Millions Knives wants to experience in a crowded room full of potentially unruly people.]
So just... take it easy. Enjoy the flavor. [She cranes her neck, looking for any appetizers going around.] And make sure you eat something too, just in case!