[Momentum after so long stopped up and shut away like a vase in the old house, like a ghost in a bubble, or a key in a dark basement -- it's both vital and irresistible, same as each bite he takes or each moment he takes in here and in present company. Slowing down to smell the roses is overrated, thinking through the gauntlet of sake is overrated, because it may be freedom that Subete wants or it may be something else entirely that he aspires to. It's hard to tell and easy to ignore for now.

So many things can sound the same with the right words, after all; even as he slowly discovers newer sounds, uncursed and uninspired by uninspired hivemind background radiation. It's Subete's turn to pause in his pouring, gaze moving to train carefully on the ribbon of sake and the tiny well of the cup.

His movements are careful, but that might just be because he needs a little extra coordination now for the sake. There's something like a laugh back, before he finishes up.]

Rarity, is it? The more things change, the more your tastes -- our tastes, I suppose, stay the same. What a difficult butterfly, but...

[His voice is languid now that the liquor is hitting, something elusive under the amusement, but he settles back against the table with cheek in hand again after a brief sip.]

What are you getting into now, hm?