[ the empty hearth makes the corners of lexie's lips twitch, although her private amusement—perhaps not private in this particular company—doesn't quite reach her eyes. it is, of course, far too warm for a fire, but she has become used to having one anyway and somehow rather misses it. how honestly awful an influence he is. ]

And I shall be spending a good deal of time in the library with those researching Corypheus.

[ here comes the bottle, the cork twisted and popped from its neck deftly, then offered to gwen. first drink for the hostess; we're not animals, no matter how feral and strange parts of her feel.

it will burn, going down. the self-destructive quality inherent in cheap whiskey had been morbidly appealing when she'd bought it on the way over. it seemed right to drink something as ragged as she felt. wryly: ]

How terribly useful we have become.