The Crossjack was loud. Lyssa had to keep a bit of her cheek between her teeth to concentrate on where she was. Otherwise she felt like she might float away on the din. Clinking glasses and human voices, sounds firmly outside of her head.

She was usually content to stay home during the weekends. Her memories of Fridays blended together into a grey routine. Vague recollections of quiet music and reading. This was an abrupt change. Especially the tall glass of foaming gold Penny put in front of her.

“This is a prescription,” Penny said. “It’s a boilermaker. But with a couple extra shots. It’s a cure for anything. That and salty food.”

“Real sneaky the way they season everything,” Carrie.

“Have you tried the…?”

The conversation trailed away from her as she followed Amelia’s voice.

“How have you been doing on the assignments?” She asked.

“Fine enough,” Lyssa said.

“What?”

Lyssa remembered where she was. She raised her voice and said it again.

“Fine enough. I’ve always been good at memorization. I’ve only missed one credit in Gift Application.”

“That is good.”

“You haven’t missed any, have you?”

Amelia shook her head. “I come from a family of heroes, this sort of thing is not new. We grew up in the gifted curriculum.”

“What was that like?”

“Hundreds of hours of unpaid hero adjacent work. Mostly prep and clean up, the occasional sidekicking. Penny was in one as well.”

“Boring as hell,” Penny said, her ears quick to pick up her name.

“She used to get straight A’s in middle school.”

“Well now she knocks on my door the night before every assignment,” Carrie said.

“Why not yours?” Lyssa said to Amelia.

“I copied her homework all the time in high school,” Penny said. She pouted. “She doesn’t let me do it anymore.”

“You will not get to mirror my motions during an actual test of our abilities,” Amelia said.

“Come on,” Penny said, “I’m not good at the other academic stuff but I know my regulations. I didn’t sign up for fun.”

Lyssa drank from her glass. It tasted bitter and did weird things to her head. But she felt like she needed it. The others talked of what they did when they were young.

Carrie, who was once flown in with a number of other liquid manipulators to help with an oil spill when she was just a kid. Penny, who helped replenish forests after fires in the summer, accelerating progress by a decade. Amelia, who once helped bring a plane to the ground safely by binding the whole thing in her silk and slowing guiding it onto the water.

“I held up a building for three days when it collapsed on me,” she blurted out. Then she smiled. “That was an experience.”

“…Really?” Carrie asked.

“Ohh yeah. Think my mom was there too.”

“Oh jeez,” Penny said. “She’s a lightweight. I should have known. Maybe we ought to bounce.”

“Nope. I… I like this,” Lyssa said. “This is good. Listening to people who aren’t me.”

“Well we’re all adults here,” Penny said.

“I’m gonna hit the water closet.” Lyssa shimmied out of the booth, passing by Carrie’s lap.

“Who calls it that anymore?”

Every odd blink or so Lyssa found herself in her mansion. The walls were swimming, shifting like watercolor seeping down a canvas. The paintings on the walls kept changing. Dark images to nonsensical ones. Rainbow oils and colors from spectra that people shouldn’t be able to see.

She looked herself in the bathroom mirror and managed to gather a second of lucidity.

“I probably should have eaten before coming,” she said.

The green haired girl in the top hot and striped suit certainly agreed.

“Ah say, ain’t that the truth,” she said.

“What?” Lyssa turned around. She was alone.

“Oh ah see, you’ve gone and done this to yourself,” she said. “Well ‘s bout time you had a good time.”

“What is this?” Lyssa said. “What are you?”

“Ahm what our mother summon’d when she ‘n’ er friends wanted a special evening. Ooh she used to feed us till we’re black-out drunk or high. Course you don’t ‘member.” She wrapped her cane around Lyssa’s neck. “I’m Absinthe, your Delirium. Mine is the gift of sensory induction.”

--

“Do you think she’s alright?” Carrie said.

“She’s a big girl,” Penny said. “Lots of troubled types sign up to be a hero. She doesn’t need help.”

“It’s been a few minutes. I’m just-”

They all heard it. Some sounds were so universal they needed no introduction or explaining. Screams of pain for example. There was screaming throughout the rest of the pub. But it couldn’t be farther from pain.

The girls let their curiosities take them out of the booth to see what was happening. Dozens of patrons were writhing in their seats and on the floors, drooling, mouths open and tongues lolling, producing the most ecstatic moans and exclamations. The floorboards were soaked in what must have been spilled beer.

“We should get out of here,” Carrie said.

“We have to fetch Lyssa,” Amelia said.

Carrie made her way to the bathrooms. At first she wondered why it wasn’t affecting her as well. Then a sensory wave enveloped her, and she struggled to stand, her knees wobbling.

“What is going on?” She said through grit teeth.

She found Lyssa in the bathroom, laughing at her own reflection in the mirror.

“Come on.” She grabbed Lyssa and slapped her in the face. “Snap out of it!”

The unspeakable feeling disappeared. Carrie could breathe again.

“Wh-what happened?” Lyssa said.

“We’re calling it a night,” Carrie said.

She dragged Lyssa out of the establishment, past the half-conscious patrons lying on the floor.

“Oh god I did this,” Lyssa muttered.

“We’ve paid the bill, let’s get out of here,” Carrie said. They met up with the others outside.

The first thing Lyssa noted was the crossed arms and flushed faces.

“I did not know that could happen,” Lyssa said.

“We knew you had multiple gifts but this is ridiculous,” Amelia said.

“Well I don’t think she did anything illegal,” Penny said with a demure smile. “And that wasn’t exactly terrible-”

“We are going home,” Amelia said. “Before we and our school get associated with any of this.”

“Sorry,” Lyssa said.

“We need to work on your alcohol tolerance,” Penny said.

They walked quickly back to the dorms. The next morning Amelia avoided reading the news at breakfast.