She doesn't look toward him, or do anything to acknowledge his presence, just stares into her drink wondering how she got into this mess. She was always so careful! But... no one could really be invisible to a group like the one after her. That mesmer had probably tracked her down herself; she was good enough for it.

Tsaerri takes a sip of the vile drink in effort to quiet her nerves and quietly says, "There was someone waiting for me when I got home. A White Mantle assassin." She almost killed me. The feeling of vulnerability is making her feel absolutely sick. She's never had to rely on anyone for help, and to think that he would be the only person she'd have to turn to is an almost unbearable thought. It's more out of paralyzing discomfort than any effort of will that she avoids sobbing into her drink.

Why would you even help me? I've been nothing but awful to you. And you don't even really know how bad I can be, yet.

Her voice grating, Tsae adds, "I assume you understand what that means."

With a grimace, she tosses her head back and downs the remainder of the mug, digging her nails into the counter in attempt to avoid gagging. She slams the container back down with significantly less force than she meant to. Her hands are shaking.

Damn it.

Tsae rubs at her head, wincing into her hands and trying very hard not to snap at the idiotic idea he just proffered. Her emotional nausea is quickly becoming physical as the disgusting ale roils in her stomach. Add that to the list of terrible decisions she's made since she got out of bed today.

"It must be nice," she says in as even a tone as she can manage, "to have that kind of life, where you can just dial up the most powerful mesmer in Kryta to deal with your problems."

Relenting and shifting to lean her head on her arm against the counter and looking at him for the first time with defeated resignation, she tells him, "I don't know how they found me. And I... didn't exactly give her a chance to explain herself. They probably had something to do with what went down at the manor today."

Closing her eyes, Tsaerri breathes deep, and exhales. "Look. I'm in a pretty bad place right now. If you can't help me, I don't really know where else to go." In a flat inflection, she adds, "I don't exactly want to be here right now, prevailing on your conscience, if that wasn't clear. But, I am, so."

She can feel the alcohol working on her nerves -- not even close to enough to get her drunk, watered-down swill that it was, but it's nice to imagine. It's making her hopefully-newfound ally's presence moderately more tolerable, though to be fair, he hasn't opened his mouth again yet either.

Tsaerri blinks.

"What is even happening today?" she mutters. "You just invited me to your room to get drunk with you and I'm not even going to threaten to murder you."

She pushes off of her barstool and warily follows him up to the second floor. Trailing him inside, she marches over to the window to look down into the street for anything suspicious.

The scene below looks terrifyingly normal.

"You can save your wine," she tells him, still scanning the dozen-or-so bodies she can see from her vantage. "I need to stay focused."

The thought intrudes upon her of what a strange situation this is. How many times has she found herself in a room like this -- granted usually with men less respectable than Syrgei, imbecile that he is -- only to coldly inform them that their life was about to end? She can't actually think of an occasion when it was something pleasant, instead. Not that this is pleasant, either.

Grabbing the chair nearest the window, Tsae spins it around and perches herself backwards on it, resting her arms and chin on the spine. She remains quiet, thinking, and waiting for her host to say something useful.

"You know," Tsae murmurs tiredly. "As bad as this day has been, I'd still take it over being in your room for any other reason." She rubs at her eye under her blindfold. "Sorry. Don't pay attention to me. Cruelty is how I cope."

She unties it and stows it in the pocket of her jacket, trusting that their won't be a phantasmal assailant climbing through the closed window any time in the near future.

"Anyway, to be honest, I'd have thought you'd be more concerned for the city than for me. But I mean, it's not like a long-dead order of Mursaat-worshiping assassins with an expressed agenda of destabilizing the throne of your beloved country just popped back up over night, or anything. Your concern is appreciated, though."

She tries to say that like she actually means it, since, well, she does for once, but it still comes out sarcastically. Oh well. He can deal.

"Well, I was thinking you might want to talk to the one who tried to kill me. I left her tied to a chair in my kitchen... I don't think she bled out. Although..." Tsae cranes her head around to stare across the city again. "We might attract unwanted attention heading back there. I don't know. It didn't seem like a good idea to greet your girlfriend by kicking a hamstrung assassin through her front door."

She shrugs and gets up from her seat, watching him rummage through his belongings. "I don't have anywhere I can go outside the city. If I knew where Skaeye was, I'd have run to her instead, but I haven't seen her since the guild went bottom-up."

Out of habit, Tsaerri snaps forth her pistol and starts spinning it around her finger. "You sure you don't want to, like, send a letter to Captain Swoonyface, or anything?"

"Well, it helps me relax, so get over it." Tsae winces, immediately regretting the words, but doesn't bother apologizing. Not a habit she'd prefer to get into, given her propensity for insulting him. "It's not like it shoots unless I tell it too," she adds lamely.

"Anyway." She starts to slowly pace the tiny room, the flat heels of her boots clacking against the floor. "Heading into an active warzone doesn't sound appealing. Did you want to talk to the one I captured, or not? I'm getting claustrophobic in here." Her foot catches on the leg of the chair she'd been sitting in and sends it clattering across the floor. Tsaerri bites back an expletive and lets out a high-pitched sigh instead.

"Maybe I do need that drink..." she mutters.

Tsae squints at him for a second, and then wanders over to the cabinet. "Oh, you have Elonian wine. That's pretty much all I drink." She stands up on her toes, barely reaching the top shelf to nab the bottle.

She hears his next words and has to fight down a dozen nasty retorts about his awkward seduction techniques before merely squeaking out an uncomfortable, "I'll wait out here," as she slips back out into the hallway. Closing the door behind her, she takes a hard look at the bottle in her hand. Really probably not a good idea, but...

Tsaerri is taking a hefty swallow of the wine as he comes out. Wiping her mouth with the back of her glove, she answers, "The first one. It was a lot of trouble to capture her, might as well get what we can from her." One more sip. Why did it have to be so gods-damned delicious? "Plus, I mean, you showed me your room, I guess it's only polite to return the favor." Shrugging, she pushes off the wall where she'd been leaning and heads for the stairs down, hoping she doesn't look too wobbly -- it does tend to go to her head pretty quick.

"Okay, so, like..." Tsaerri is finding herself oddly talkative on the walk back to her home. "Like, why do we even have a queen, anyway? What is she good for? Making speeches? I could do that. Watch."

Clearing her throat loudly, Tsae pitches her already-high voice into a scratchy falsetto. "Denish -- *ahem* Denizens of Divinity's Reach! -- Wow, that's hard to say! -- I, your precious Queen Jennah, would like to issue a royal ploclur, er, procular, proclamation! From this day forward, I shall be banning the wearing of footwear within the city! Good day!"

Pausing to take another swig of the wine, she continues in her normal voice, "But okay, seriously, what is with the whole not wearing shoes thing? No way you're telling me that isn't someone's fetish. Honestly it's just kind of embarrassing that she's representing our country like that. Though, I guess the other races are kinda meh about shoes to begin with. Isn't that weird? Asura have really weird feet, you ever notice that? Hey." She punches Syrgei lightly on the arm to get his attention. "Have you seriously never tried this stuff?" She gesticulates vaguely with the bottle at him. "They put, like," *drink* "drugs in it, or something. Narcolepticals. Wait, is that it? No, that sounds like sleepy popsicles... uh... narcotics! That's the word!"

Suddenly remembering the predicament she was in before she started drinking, the mesmer stops walking, looking aghast and clutching at his sleeve. "I think... dude, I think I might be really drunk right now. I hope I'm acting normal. Am I acting normal? I'm supposed to be being super cautious. Oh-oh goddess, I'm ruining everything, aren't I?" Distressed tears begin welling in her eyes.

Perhaps I should have taken the bottle away...

Syrgei slips his shades on to hide the fact that his eyes keep getting wider throughout Tsaerri's sudden loquaciousness.

"For someone with a bottle of wine in your hand I'd say you're acting perfectly normal."

Is she?...oh no.

Facing Tsaerri's sudden distress, Syrgei struggles with what to do, wanting both to comfort the young woman but wondering just how cautious he should be should she suddenly decide to resume her normal attitude and shoot him.

He hovers his hand indecisively by her shoulder, "I...it's fine, nothing is happening yet, or being ruined."

HelpHelpHelp.

"Oh, cool." *sniffle* "You know what's funny? All these tears, but I'm not even sad! Drugs, man, let me tell you!" Tsae nearly doubles over in a fit of giggles, spilling most of the remaining wine in the process.

"And as for you, mister!" She suddenly whirls toward Syrgei, pointing her gun slightly slightly askew and not putting him in any real danger. Her aim lists back and forth carelessly. "Don't think I didn't see that creepy hand! Trying to take advantage of a girl in my... my..." She rubs at her watering eyes ineffectually with her free hand. "Condition. That's it. Just cause I'm... what was it... just cause I'm blitzed on... whatever they put in this stuff... yeah. You better not try that again. I'll fuck you up. Maybe. I don't know."

She retracts the gun and holds it up to her face, staring at it. "I just love this thing, you know. It has a blutterfy on it, isn't that cute?" She holds the barrel up to Syrgei's face so he can see.

It's at that point that she hears the staticy, offensive statement in a voice that's vaguely familiar. Scanning the street through bleary eyes, Tsaerri finds her target and begins stomping over to the round, metallic aggressor. She lets her gun go so she can clench her fists. "Say it again! Come on!" Coming up on the golem, she shoves it with both hands -- moving it not an inch. "I'll fight you right now, fricking golem thinks he can talk to me like that! I don't care. I don't even care! Let's go!" She's hopping in place with her fists raised ridiculously against the mechanical construct.

Blinking at the bizarre sight unfolding before her, Tsaerri decides to kneel down and hold her head, closing her eyes.

"Okay..." she says to no one in particular. "I think I definitely drank too much, I'm for sure hallucinating now. I'm just gonna... sit here for a minute." Something like a poorly-restrained giggle shakes her hunched shoulders.

"We're uhhh..." Tsaerri clutches at her head. "Oh gods, owwwwwwww." Great. The high's fading and now she gets to deal with the consequences chugging a bottle full of opiates and gods-only-know-what-else. "I'll be fine," she mutters, stumbling back up to her feet. "We have a... a what's-it-called. A prisoner to interrogate. Ow."

"She has the assassin confined in her room. We're going to see what we can get from her."

Syrgei stands slightly to Tsaerri's side, keeping an eye on her should she get suddenly unsteady...as well as that went last time.

Tsae shrugs, alternately massaging her temples and rubbing her eyes. "Eh, if he gets on my nerves, I'll just shoot him. It's whatever." A second passes, and her eyes suddenly widen. "Oh, I'm still doing the 'blurting out whatever goes through my head' thing. Heh... uh, don't pay attention to that?"

"Oh, well, it's not far from here. Now that I can remember where I live." Eyeing the golem up and down, she tells Gambooge, "I'm surprised you're still babysitting that thing. Doesn't it get on your nerves? If you wanted a pompous, snarky bitch of a traveling companion why not go adopt a pet Asura? I hear they can imprint on people if you get them young enough." Taking a few tottering steps, Tsae starts to lead them to her home.

Tsaerri sighs in disappointment. "Unfortunately for both of us, whoever you are, one of the side-effects of coming down off this stuff is muted emotions. I simply don't have it in me to trade insults right now. Even still, though, is that the best you had? What, are you going to insinuate I slept with the entire crab-toss team next? If you want to get under my skin, you're really going to need to graduate high-school first." She sighs, again, brushing errant hairs out of her face. "I honestly don't care right now though. I've had way too long of a day to get upset about some Asura broadcasting her temper-tantrums from half a continent away."