[ Matt regards Tezcatlipoca with a look of sputtering betrayal. It's only slightly alleviated by the fact that Tezca's struggling too. ]

There's not a lot mortals won't do for a shot at getting drunk. [ God, his eyes are even watering. Matt rubs his tongue against the back of his teeth to try and dislodge some of the taste. ] We tried mouthwash as kids, which was ... I think a slight improvement on this.

[ The presence of raw meat makes taking another drink completely untenable. Absolute nonstarter. Matt considers his glass, then Tezca. And an idea unfurls slowly across his face. ]

Let's see. I can't change something's essential nature--I wouldn't want to. [ He flicks a smile Tezcatlipoca's way. In contrast to Tezca's bad-boy, danger-danger grin, Matt's smile is almost sweet. ] But I can be flexible.

[ Matt straightens up, letting his shoulders hang gently and the top of his head lift. He breathes. It doesn't take much: a slight stutter in his breath, a little pink in his cheeks. Golden light etches itself in the air in front of his mouth, his throat, taking the shape of a lotus with a central symbol. Sanskrit. The blossom deepens to an orange hue and disappears, as if he's just swallowed it.

Matt runs his tongue experimentally over his lips. Its movements are a little clumsy. ]

Not usually what I use this chakra for, [ he notes, enunciating with care. He lifts his glass for another tentative sip.

Then he takes a much longer pull, one that drains the glass by a third. ]