"Fine, science," he parrots. Shepard and her insistence on all these proper names for things. As if it wasn't perfectly understandable to call something a Sky Station. He happened to think Shepard-world-magic had a nice ring to it.

He hasn't got halfway through his second glass yet, but there's a faint pink glow in his cheeks and a warmth running under his skin. Wei Wuxian hardly has a filter as it is, and it takes a lot more than that to get him well and truly drunk, but it's enough to loosen his tongue.

"Hm? You haven't asked me any questions," he blinks, then breaks into an even wider smile, "oh, are you worried I'm holding out on you? Go on, ask, I'm not shy."