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Timeline
Recruitment solo- 704 words
recruiter-Brynn Abernathy
call to arms/trouble in the swiss alps- 440

Inventory
Poop! -1
Moly Flower-0

(solo- Prytaneum Moonshine)

Briiva sat cross-legged, bent over her make-shift still as she tinkered with the final touches. She was glad that there was as much metal-working equipment around, or else this particular project would have ended like most of her others; half-baked and forgotten for something new. Of course, Briiva had always wanted to make her own micro-distillery, but back home there were those pesky things known as federal laws making that illegal. Briiva figured that the weird pseudo-existence of the Prytaneum gave her a slight loophole to work with, so here she was, testing the strength of her rivets so she could continue to the arduous task of selecting which cask of pilfered wine from the Diyoneseus hall would be best suited for her first attempt at Brandy.

Briiva found it interesting that the hardest thing about her latest project had been finding half decent instructions on how to even make a proper still, even now she was hoping that the hunk of metal she had made that was taking up the middle of the room would heat and cool properly, and not explode. Briiva was fairly certain that the structure of the still was sturdy enough not to succumb to pressure differences, but she was also keenly aware of how many things she had managed to make explode that under normal conditions had no business exploding at all.
--

So, taste testing the wines so see which would work best distilled had not been the best idea. There was still plenty of wine for Briiva to distill, but she wasn’t sure that she was in a start to start, or she really would explode something. For now, she was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling rocking a pretty pleasant buzz. She hadn’t even bothered to write what each wine was, so she could only really tell by their color. The red one had been decent, so that was the one she would try starting with. Of course, the process took a while, and Briiva had no idea how aging would go; she figured that the first few batches would hopefully be serviceable to get drunk off of and serve as a starting point for finding improvements for her process. Briiva grinned to herself; sitting up to sip down some more of the red stuff. Before pushing herself up to drag the cask over to her Distillery still.

It took her some time to prop up the cask of wine to fill her still, but once it was finally done, Briiva set the machine and sat back, finishing her wine while she waited to make sure the whole contraption wasn’t going to pop it’s rivets and blow up the entire room. Once she was positive it didn’t need her full attention, she opened up her laptop, pulling up some of her engine designs. At this point, the alcohol had inhibited her ability to do much with the designs apart from randomly adding poorly drawn designs and quickly erasing them. She smiled absently, zoning out while listening to her still do it’s thing. More than anything, Briiva was just happy that it seemed to be working. It felt nice to make a thing and have it actually do what it was supposed to.
--

It was in the wee hours of the day when Briiva finally had gotten enough fruit of her labor to try tasting her pseudo-legal homebrew, and she was anxious about it. She swirled it in a glass, frowning at the consistency. How bad could it be though? After all, this was coming from someone who had, embarrassingly enough, tried to drink actual rocket fuel. On multiple occasions at that. Bracing for the worst, Briiva shot it down, and came up coughing.

“Well, that was definitely alcohol. So there’s that, at least!” Briiva took a deep breath, looked surreptitiously around the room, and poured the remainder of the moonshined booze into an old liquor bottle before capping it. Back to the drawing board.
--

Briiva sat at her computer, frowning. She was looking for anything to give her hints at how to improve her, quite frankly, terrible first attempt at homemade booze. Again, seeing as she was technically working on something illegal, it didn’t necessarily surprise her, but it did bother her. Distilling was far too long of a process for Briiva to patiently follow trial and error with, and even her liver didn’t deserve that. Briiva scribbled down what little she found to put to use later.
---
She had been through three batches, but finally her stock was starting to resemble liquor and not just rubbing alcohol. It was still a chore even for Briiva to get through a glass, but she could get through it, which made all the difference.