Sapience,

I need cocktails. I want them to blow my eyeballs out of my head. I want 'em like the axe wants the tree when it shouts too much. So I'm paying you. All entries are welcome, and all entrants are welcome. Here's the terms:

o It's gotta, somehow, represent the dichotomous and
conflicted world we live in. Light and dark, spirit
and shadow, life and death, pain and euphoria,
inuldgence and restraint, blood and bone. I want
everliving tensions of The Midnight Age in a cup.
What precisely that means to you is up to you.
That's the whole point. I'm not the mixologist,
you are. Blow my mind.

o Five winners are gonna be picked of the submissions
I get. It's not a hierarchy, it's a top five, all
are first place.

o Any may enter, but they must be able to actually
create these drinks for me to consume. Immortal
and denizen entrants are welcome (see rewards below).

o Any mortal winners will receive 50 credits out of my
pocket. Take my money. Brave immortals or others of
the world who choose to enter will receive a token of
my favor, redeemable at a time of Their (or their)
choice, within some limitations.

o You gotta get the drink to me and I gotta taste it
for your entry to count.

o You gotta be willing to give the design or ability
to craft this drink in some way to me.

o Contest is runnin' until the 15th of Ios, 503 MAish.

Get to work.

-Lord Tetchta V. Mesis
The Nine-Fingered Tick

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 7th of Lleian, in the year 502 MA.