Becky quietly allows the party to begin

Perhaps, like before, it was simply the path of least resistance.

As the liquid's effects twisted into a comforting warmth inside of her. Becky's thoughts moved with their typical speed, though the answer to her most pressing question came to her distantly, as though viewed through the billowing, comforting steam of a sauna.

In the southern blightlands where it was from, the plant was called Emyahwei or 'The Dancing Lady' after a crude interpretation of it's two stacked round bulbs resembling the curvy shape of a busty woman's silhouette and, perhaps, Becky realized, also for the potent intoxicating effect of it's nectar. Stored in the center of the lower bulb, the pink liquid could be extracted, then concentrated down into a sugary syrup called Hwei, which was nutrient dense and sweet. In order to protect itself from depredation, the plant had developed a potent intoxicant that leeched into this syrupy substance, yet like with so many other of natures most creative poisons, humanity had found a way to transform it from a dangerous nuisance to a more pleasurable one. The refinement process was fairly simple and straight forward, compared to the fermenting of alcohol, at least, and mostly involved straining out the thicker and more dangerous toxic particles in favor of the smaller merely intoxicating ones.

When all was said and done, harvesters were left with a substance that captured many of the same effects as alcohol while being several times as potent and much more fast acting. It was said that a few squirts of the refined syrup were the equivalent of an entire glass of hard liquor. ...and Becky had just drained her entire glass.

The side effects, thankfully, were minimal. Thanks to the removal of the more dangerous toxic particles, Hwei wasn't nearly as hard on the body relative to it's intoxicating effect. Imbibers were left without hang-overs and it took a similar volume of sheer liquid to dangerously poison oneself as it would with proper alcohol, by which point, nearly any humanoid being of standard size would have long since passed out entirely.

In combination, these things made the substance dangerous in an entirely different way. The substance offered alcoholic oblivion without the obvious consequences, was relatively cheap in the southern lands, and tasted like a pleasant, sugary sweetener. From Becky's understanding, it wasn't particularly difficult to grow addicted to the stuff and, in fact, some rumors in the Imperial and Albion halls of power claimed that the less developed state of the nations that lived at the lower edge of the Amnistlants was due to a cultural dependence on the stuff, transforming whole nations into drunken addicts who could scarcely feed themselves, much less properly govern, though this last bit was spurious at best.

This faded to a minor concern in the back of Becky's mind however, as she watched Robin tip her glass's base skyward and drain it's pink fluid down her throat, a small drop spilling out past her lips to trickle down her pale chin. She could already feel the substance's other effects taking hold of her. Her feet shifted in the sand, thin legs parting ever so slightly while her nipples grew stiff enough to poke up the fabric of her pitch black top.

Emyahwei was named after a little known Goddess of harvests, festivity... and fertility.

Skye downed her glass in turn and as a blush started to rise to Robin's freckled face, Becky felt it mirrored by one on her own. Soon all three of their bodies would be responding to the drink's most gossiped about effect: ovulation on command.