Reshad has a shot of the anonymous liquor, and a discreet sniff has revealed it to be both strong and delicious. She drinks in time with the rest, the cold flavor a reminder: new place. New people. New role, relatively speaking.

Habit sends her eyes sweeping the group, noting reactions and faces, who stands together and who apart. The subtlety of the lighting is not lost, and she spares a smile for it, drawing the gaze to Sasha and Jedao. She herself is in shadow, as suits.

Jedao's face blanches as if he's seen a ghost. Reshad uses her glass, pretty bright crystal as it is, to glint what little light there is, trying to gain his attention. Her free hand shivers in Shuos sign.

Status? She inflects it with the twist of worry.