Jaskier's brows rose in tandem as she chilled the bottle to the point of frosting the glass. Magic had the tendency to make him a bit uneasy but he swallowed down around that reaction--literally, his throat was always his first thought when he watched things like that. It was impressive and, frankly, as he plucked up the very cold glass of cherry liquor, he let out a thankful hum.

"A game, absolutely," Jaskier answered very quickly as he lifted the glass and took a sip. His expression went a touch appreciative as he lowered it and looked over the edge of the cup at her--the cold really cut down on the burn. This was a dangerous drink, now--well, for a mortal man, if not her.

"Much less likely to get saccharine and we've had quite enough of that already."

He let the tin cup dangle from his fingers and drummed the others on the table idly.

"The question of: what to play does arise very quickly and, frankly, I can think of nothing more closely matched than 'Well, I've never.'"

That was a nice way to say that games of drunken skill? Those would go very poorly for Jaskier very fast. Games of memory and lying might be a fair draw, but he had a lot of practice with those. She had been around and clearly had proclivities on the edges of his own--he was a hedonist at heart, as well as a cad--so a game of ridiculous admission and mockery was rather ideal.

"If you have your own suggestions, by all means?"