Jim might as well cut himself some slack and pace himself: the moment she counts to three Lartia's knocking back that sujamma hard. Slower this time, though. Her cup hits the table barely ahead of Jim's.

"Got it!" She calls it out immediately, pointing a slightly unsteady finger at Jim as if he were contesting it. "Got you, sailor boy. S'go on. Spill it." She pauses, reminding herself what the actual question was. She's a little out of breath, but she's definitely starting to feel the drink too. Doesn't help that she started before her nephew arrived. "What kind of mage are you? What's it you study, b'sides Imperials with more books than sense?"