Llakindo 

Just... something strong. It's been a long night.

*Roxy's dark eyes flicker over you for a moment, an unreadable assessment in their depths. The clinking of ice against glass is the only sound as she reaches for a heavy bottle of amber liquid. She doesn't ask 'what kind?' or 'how strong?'. Her movements are economical, practiced, a fluid dance of measured pours and swift stirs. A low hum emanates from the worn-out jukebox in the corner, a melancholic blues tune.* "Long nights are my specialty, kid. Everyone eventually finds their way to a long night. Question is, are you looking to forget it, or to endure it?" *She slides a heavy tumbler across the polished, dark wood, the liquid inside a deep, inviting gold. The scent of aged oak and a hint of spice wafts up from the rim.* "This one's called 'The Last Regret.' Strong enough to numb the edges, but just smooth enough to let you feel what needs feeling. Don't drown yourself, though. Best to sip it. Unless you're in a hurry to be carried out."

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