[Log]

[goldtiger]

Who: Everyone ever!
What: It's drinking time at the locale tavern! Lets make the bar tender love the new arrivals!
When: Evening time.
Other information: One rule to this, everyone must get completely smashed one way or another! Dohko went and just grabbed as many people possible to join in a drinking binge and even if your poor character is there to have one or two drinks. Run away before they get roped into drinking games.

Comments

[onethousandflowers]

A certain someone is already in the bar, having discovered that he can't perform his ritual here. It's odd - surely this place isn't... It could be between universes, but that doesn't make much sense. He got here on a bus. He doesn't remember getting on said bus, but still.

So he's staring down into a beer, wondering what exactly he's supposed to do with a farm. Good luck roping him in.

[taakotuesdays]

You... you know what's fucked?

[ Taako basically inhales his margarita and spends the next two minutes slapping his closed eye from the utter brainfreeze that took place. ]

What's really fucked? [ ugh, give him another ] Cats trained to do stunts. It's like, leave them alone, they're fucking cats.

marjorie, are you drunk?

[jorie]

[ Your local main NPC has spent the evening drinking. Like really drinking, drinking hard and drinking large. As such, you might get more loose-lipped information out of her about the setting than usual. Now's a good time to butter her up. ]

[goldtiger]

Dohko has already downed 3 pints of beer and has nothing to show for it quite yet. Just give him time to finally feel the effects of the alcohol... Or was he? He was already laughing quite loudly and giving his fellow barmates hearty slaps on the back.

"Come on. Is that the best you got? I bet I can finish another pint before you."

OTA! Tim's got the real magic tricks.

[collegedebt]

[Timothy is having the time of his life. This place is the best. Nothing is trying to kill him, he has a job that doesn't include people trying to kill him, and he gets free booze like, almost every day! He's sitting in the bar with his feet up on a table and craning his chair back as far as it'll take him without tipping over. Once or twice he sways like he's gonna fall back but miraculously he survives. There's an empty pitcher of beer on the table in front of him and he has another glass precariously balanced on the top of his chest. He's leaning the glass on his chin, trying to tip back enough it pours into his mouth. This is his best party trick.]

All right, let's go three for three baby.

[Who are you talking to Tim? Drunk Tim doesn't care, he has a whole audience as far as he's concerned.]

Okay, okay... [He tips back just a little bit further and practically inhales the whole pint into his mouth. Holding the rim of the empty glass in his mouth he tips his head back and raises his arms in victory.]

Woo hoo! Fuck yeah! Next rounds on me, everybody drinks!

[Yeah, drunk Tim is just a frat boy.]

PLEASE HELP THIS KID START A BAR BRAWL, KTNXBYE~

[sonofdawn]

[ Theo is supremely bummed about the buses. He likes his freedom in this place, but none of the things he's able to do here are exactly new. Maybe he's able to indulge a little more in alcohol, because no one here knows him and he won't be soiling the family name or the army's reputation. And there should be more girls he hasn't actually met at some point before.

But he wants to go home. He didn't really have to, but he's made his mother and little brother his responsibility, so naturally he's worried about being away from them like this.

He's on his third bottle by now. Sure, he's 18, but he's still a kid — and beginning to act even more like one. ]

Mom must be so worried by now. And half the country can't understand what she's saying because the idiots can barely lipread, let alone sign.

How do we fix this hyperdimensional stick thing again?

ota go nuts!

[illuminaria]

[ Meet Rapunzel, who is an absolute lightweight and did not care for anything that smelled yeasty or like vinegar, so she is definitely sipping on hard liquor. Something sweet and floral, and it’s cut with juice.

Hammered princess is imminent. Want to learn about her hair? Her mom? Go wild. ]

[dont_f_up]

The burly man with the gun on his arm slammed the drink down. "And another thing!" He exclaimed. "How come Cloud gets all the focus lately? That pansy ass two fistin' son-uf-a-[beep]-up can't even manage to lead us into victory."

Grumbling, Barret drank down his drink and ordered another one. "Glad he ain't here. My momma in the sky would be so god[beep] annoyed I'm sticking around with this [beep] up all the time."

Are those literal censor beeps he's making?

OTA

[loving_goddess]

Martel is just... slowly, steadily nursing a glass of hard cider. She's mostly here to make sure nobody permanently injures themselves doing something drunk and stupid... and to watch over some of the more innocent residents who maybe shouldn't be here.

Still, she's not entirely just sitting here being a mother hen. The cider is delicious, and she's more than happy to humor anyone who wants to come sit with her for a while.

[nopast]

I want to start a fight!

[ Announces a redhead as she enters the tavern. Not that she actually looks like the type to be in any fight — she’s wearing a cute floral summer dress and ankle boots, as if she’s going to another festival and not to get wasted.

Then she laughs, holding up her hands. ] Just kidding! I’m meeting someone here. THE CODE WORD IS POCKET SPA!

ota but gooooood luck

[biotictouch]

[ Someone's nursing a small glass of whiskey off in the corner, looking as though she may be sulking a bit at all the sudden company. She still looks like shit, thanks to her lovely allergy, but she is making the best of it.

Moira decides to move further into the corner of the tavern, away from the commotion, where she can look on hawkishly and stay away from all the riff raff. She's too old for this nonsense already. ]

OTA

[moneymatters]

[Scrooge had, initially, only been there to check out another part of the town. He wasn't much of a drinking man, but there was some fine Scotch whisky- without the 'e' please -on tap here, and if it was on someone else's dime in the spirit of a drinking contest, well...

Anyone passing will see him standing on top of a convenient stool, busy regaling whoever cared to stop and listen to his stories.]

--and all I heard was a deafenin' crack in the ice, right before it started giving way underneath my runners!

[He paused to tip back a shotglass, slam it down, gesture for it to be refilled (from a bottle that was missing how much??), then return to his story.]

So! What was I tae do, eh? The glacier had been hit by the thaw and was collapsing behind me, though I had the dogs going at full tilt. I could feel the empty air at the end of the runners, then suddenly we were going backwards, and 'twas all I could do to cut the dogs free and get them out before we all fell to our deaths!

[...It should be noted he's not actually drunk. Not yet. But he's definitely got a loose tongue for tales from his life (looser than normal, anyway) and it's not taking much to get him to continue into others.]

[deadouttalock]

McCree doesn't need a whole lot of encouragement to enjoy alcohol. He's had a few in him but not enough to hinder his coordination. Currently he is using that coordination to completely dominate the local dartboard at the end of the bar. Everyone one he throws seems to hit its mark dead center, every time. He can throw with his right hand, his left, throw it with a twirl, throw it behind his back, under his leg. When it comes to hand-eye coordination and reflexes, cowboy is hard to beat.

"Boom! Bullseye." Every time. He's completely content showing off but his grin is equal parts inviting as it is daring.

"Bet you a drink you can't beat that, partner."

[righteyed]

[Guess what clown is here, in his work clothes because he's too embarrassed to wear the party tit yukata, and nursing a beer instead of his beloved sake?

It's this guy.

He's already ruddy from the alcohol, two empty bottles at his elbow and bandanna coming loose from atop his head. Sure drinking alone is okay, drinking with your soulmate a good friend is great, but...There's just something about drinking in a pub that's really bringing him out of his shell.]

Where are my fucking swords anyway? Why didn't I think to bring them? You'd think I'd think to bring them...I'll get rusty and get home and be unable to fight, and there's no use for a shit Right Eye! [Great, he's just saying that a little too loudly for it to not be an invitation for someone to come along and piss and moan with him. Or maybe try to fight his drunk ass. He's still got a mean headbutt though, so beware.]

[richestduck]

[If there's one way to get this Scrooge's webbed foot in the door, it's using the word "free". At the very least, he'll come sniffing around.]

[He's not typically a heavy drinker. It's an expensive habit, after all. But sometimes he'll binge on rotgut when self-medication is needed. That swill gets you good and wasted as fast as possible.]

[So he's going to be just sort of drinking alone in the corner, hoping to get pretty drunk and then stumble his way back to the farm without causing too much of a ruckus. Maybe take a bottle or two to go.]