Raise a Glass [OPEN]

[lordshield]

Who: The XV Cast and You!
When: June 6th
Where: Curti Center, Jiminy's Juicery (bar)
What: After saving innocents from the Dream Width, some people just need a drink.
Warnings/Notes: Alcohol consumption, possible violence, whatever people do in bars.

Their first foray into the search and rescue business in the Dream Width had been intense, to say the least. Stressful, heartbreaking, exhausting, and enlightening were other words some might use to describe the experience. After a night of rest and a day to somewhat sort things and people out, the next evening brings about a mighty need to head to the local tavern. Some drink to forget, some drink to remember, some drink to relax. There are even representatives of the Bard's Guild providing live music. You can try to make a request, but chances are they don't know your foreign songs.

Maybe you were invited by one of the excitable young men from Lucis, or maybe you came on your own. There's enough room in the bar for quite a few people, so long as they're of age. Sit right at the bar, or pull up chairs around a table, the choice is yours.

[OoC: Make your own toplevel or tag around. Please put content warnings as necessary. Have fun!]

Comments

[lordshield]

[I - 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall]

Whose idea it had been to come to the bar exactly wasn't clear. Maybe it was a group decision. Clarus certainly knew he needed a drink after the adventure they'd just had. And... the adventure that was just beginning, he thought as he watched a rather younger Regis socialize with anyone who would pay him attention.

Rather than mingle, the older man had settled himself in a chair against the wall, a double whiskey neat in one hand for the purpose of sipping for now. He was in a position where he could survey the entire bar and move quickly if he needed to. Habit, of course. For now he'd just sip, remain sober, and watch.


[II - 76 Bottles of Beer on the Wall]

A little later into the night saw the old man relaxing a bit, and he currently sat at the bar, sideways so he didn't have his back to the rest of the room. "Let's see... Shall we take a few shots?" He asked whoever he might have dragged to the bar with him, or whoever he knew that was nearby, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Be warned, this man can hold his alcohol like a champ. That is, until he can't. And then...


[III - 15 bottlse og beer ont he wal] - Sing along edition

Alright. Clarus was ready to admit he was smashed now. The defining factor was the fact that the Bards were starting to sound good and that just couldn't be right. Those spoony bards...

"Okay, try this one," he encouraged, humming a few bars for the bard with the guitar to copy, but the man failed and Clarus scowled. "Give me that." The guitar was plucked from the poor innocent man's hand and the Shield took a moment to adjust it awkwardly in his grip before getting it right and setting it across his lap like he might know what he was doing. Incidentally after a few sloppy chords, it seemed he did. He played strummed the notes for the bars he'd just tried to hum, then handed the guitar back.

"Just repeat that and follow along, you'll be fine." The idea of following along with whatever was about to happen appeared to horrify the guitarist, but he did as he was told, and after a few repetitions, Clarus began to... sing? Uh, yeah... he's definitely singing. And actually, it's not bad at all.

1?

[boomchucka]

A rumor about a party happening at the local watering hole managed to make its way around the Curti Centre which was reason enough to draw Selphie out of her usual routine. She was in dire need of a distraction, of something considerably happier than dwelling on her own thoughts. She'd made her way down the bar and tried to order something with a punch, only to be told that she looked to be about fifteen and was given a grape soda instead.

"I'm not joking," she argued with the bartender. "I'm going to be twenty next month!"

"Yeah, yeah," the bartender continued in a dry tone. "That's what the all say."

So there was one Selphie casting a baleful look at the bartender who seemed quite content on grinning at her and shaking their head. The perky brunette eventually sat on a barstool with a huff and sipped at her soda.

II

[littlemhigan]

"Anythin' worth shootin?"

Castor is...in her cups. It's hard to tell how far gone she is, but there's a telling glass to her gaze and a certain restraint to her movement; like she's thinking about what she's doing instead of moving naturally.

She squints from Clarus to the bar, trying to read the top shelf. "Dunno what all the good stuff here is."

Before they go...

[chocobosnap]

There was just a matter to be dealt with before they left, apparently.

Prompto wasn't really aware that it was going to be much of a concern to Clarus, his origins. He should have forseen a necessary discussion incoming, and yet he hadn't.

After the memories he was feeling down, haunted anew with a fresh take on the same memory, the same horror he'd experienced. He knew where the rest of the memory went and that alone was enough to send a tremor down his spine.

He swallowed and tried to put it out of his mind.

In fact, he was settled on the living room couch, legs crossed as he closed his eyes. He took a long, slow breath in, and then exhaled. It was a calming technique he'd picked up for times like this. He wouldn't even see Clarus approach.

III.

[regisrex]

Regis was arguably far less drunk than the intent had been. But that didn't at all get in the way of wondering over to his future friend and singing along with him.

And, then, smiling. "Your voice's gone lower and raspier. Sounds good."

II - A family that drinks together...

[hashtagdaddy]

Walking over to his father, Gladio slowed and gave an empty seat next to Clarus a nudge with his foot.

"This seat taken, Dad?" Without caring if it actually had been occupied, the younger Amicitia plopped down and turned to face Clarus. They'd had a ... disagreement earlier but Gladio really wanted to share some drinks with his dad again.

dad no

[moogleshield]

If anybody needs this, it's her father. Iris knows this, and yet she's been idly keeping tabs on him throughout the night to make sure he didn't go from delightfully to disastrously drunk too quickly. She knows he has a high tolerance, but she also knows that that can go out the window quicker than a bar stool during a 'heated discussion' in a place like this.

So when she sees him harassing some poor bard trying to make a little gil, somewhere between humming a few bars and taking his guitar from him, Iris finally steps in. She hooks her arms around one of Clarus's, smiling hesitantly up at him.

"Come on, dad," She encourages him with a little tug. "Let him play what he wants."

1.

[sonoftenebrae]

[Ravus looks the Shield over as he enters the bar.]

You look to be in better health since last I heard of you.

[The scowl and the flat tone of the delivery convey that Ravus does not find this to be an improvement.]

III

[immortalmarshal]

Cor's stomping up to Clarus, and he's clearly in a Mood. Normally, he would be jeering at Clarus for his singing skills, maybe even do some silly drunken challenge or two.

But not this time. This time, he's glaring at the older man as he roughly grabbed said older man's arm. "We need to talk." And without even waiting for a reply, he starts dragging Clarus away from the Bards and towards one of the walls.

I

[shinra_dog]

Getting smashed was Reno's usual way of coping with the worst of things. And reliving those sorts of memories -- with an audience? -- that was pretty much the definition. The booze sounded like the perfect idea and Reno did want to explain himself -- he figured he should talk to people if he wanted to keep them around. That was a new thing he was trying, keeping friends around.

But when he walked into the bar...

This was what he wanted. In theory. In his head. But actually doing it, seeing these people, was hard. It was hard for everyone, he tried to tell himself.

Telling himself that the alcohol would make it easier, as alcohol was wont to do, Reno made a beeline for the bar. It was a few moments more before he actually spoke to Clarus, cheeks and ears pink with the blush he couldn't hide. "Sorry you were... I mean... That must've been awkward."

[chocobuster]

[ A; Head in the Clouds ]

If tossing and turning in his bed while struggling to find that sweetspot of rest was going to be the way that he spent his night, he may as well have spent it doing something more productive. Or rather, as productive as one could be when they were still wrapping their head around everything that happened to them. By this point, Cloud was fully aware of his own sense of self once more. Tomorrow he would reach out to one of the many guilds wherein Kumo told him that he could find new strength and learn more about this world and perhaps even himself.

Until then? Cloud found himself in the company of yet even more strangers. Not that it would have been the first time as the young blond stepped foot in the bar. It held a nostalgic air to it, albeit probably a little more clean compared to the 7th Heaven's residence in the slums. Having not accepted any new job for himself just yet, the man was still adorned in the military uniform of SOLDIER, though he felt a little light without any kind of equipment on him. Not that he was expecting any kind of trouble so soon.

Hopefully.

Cloud decides to sit right up at the bar, spinning only briefly in his stool as he leans against the counter with a somewhat tired look in his eyes. Whether he was here to drink to forget, to remember, to relax...the young swordsman was bound to find his answer somewhere tonight.

"I didn't take you for the drinkin' type, kupo." Cloud's mako blue gaze flickers to his companion that flutters nearby. "I'm not." But that didn't mean he couldn't. He orders a shot of something mild to start, intending to keep to himself to start the night.

[ B; "Give me something hard." ]

It's been about an hour into the night and Cloud's already into his fourth shot and single whiskey on the rocks. He's been generally quiet, gotten up to leave the bar area and sit down at a lone table, get up and do a couple of squats on the spot, but for the most part, Cloud's been talking with his companion. Currently, with only a slight slur to his tone that's otherwise coherent enough?

"What?! You mean to tell me that Moogles don't have pompoms where you're from?!"

Another sip of his drink before looking up at his partner. "Mogs. But-" "Moogles, kupo!" "M'gonna start callin' you Kumog."

"And you knew a giant stuffed Moogle?"

"Rode on a...mn. Lil' robot cat rode on top of it. Yeah."

"You have strange friends, kupo."

To that, Cloud's eyes return to the jingling ice in his glass on the table, his lips faintly curling up. "...yeah. I do."

B

[chocobosnap]

He was just walking by, he was several drinks in himself because his friends had been good about getting him wasted. He was a little unsteady as he disappeared into the washroom.

Prompto saw Cloud when he came back and blinked at him a few times, playing with his glass.

"Hey." He was too drunk to be nervous. "You're by yourself." It was an observation. He pointed at the group. "You didn't want to come drink with us?"

It wouldn't matter if they knew him or not, they'd all put several drinks away.

[littlemhigan]

7 PM

Castor is sitting by herself in a corner, slowly nursing a glass of something or other. Benny the moogle is perched on the table beside her, also sipping at whatever it is that Moogles drink. As she's been for the last few days, Castor is...not brooding, but nevertheless pensive.

The memory had been. Intense. She stares at her empty drink before standing abruptly. "Gettin' another one. Ye want somethin?"

"I'm okay for now, Kupo...but maybe slow down?"

"Nah. Slow gets ye killed."



10 PM

Castor is. Drunk? A bit? Her mood has improved at any rate and she's enthusiastically engaging in whatever's going on. Sing along? Hell yeah she's joining in! Dancing? You bet she dances like a white girl. She seems ready and willing to yammer away at you about anything at all...except what brough her here in the first place.



......late.

Well she hasn't fallen over yet but she's certainly close. Abandon all hope ye who thread here.



BARFIIIIIGHT

Fuck it. She probably started it.

7

[spaceforged]

"Pacing yourself will keep you from being sick when you do get there." Shiro adds, from where he'd pushed in a chair that had been left out too far. "Unless you want to get there fast and be sick the next day." He can tell with what little he knows about her that she's been off by herself in her own head.

"...if you pace yourself for a little bit I'll do a shot with you." Compromise. Even if he really shouldn't. He needs to keep his wits about him to help everyone else out. But he can't leave her off by herself either.

LATE

[carnageandclass]

From her spot at the bar, Camilla can't help but notice Castor not...in the best shape.

"Castor, will you be alright?"

And do you need water?

[chocobosnap]

[The party don't start til I walk in.]

The entire dream business was rough. Honestly, Prompto hadn't even wanted to come out, he wanted to curl up somewhere and ride out the anxiety and horrors on his own.

Noctis hadn't taken that as an answer, even when he tried hiding in the chocobo pen.

So, as a favour to his best friend, he's there, trying not to look pale and shell-shocked, offering an uneasy smile to anyone who wanted to greet him, but his heart didn't seem to be in it.

[One bourbon, one scotch, one beer.]

In that case, Prompto seemed to be throwing himself headfirst into this activity - as soon as he finishes one drink, he orders the next. It wasn't doing anything to stop him from fidgeting and being uncomfortable, nor was it making him any more social, it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

Oh well, he thought to himself, and tipped the beer back, downing it in one shot.

Some people drank to forget.

[Blame it on the hooch]

Normally, he might have been a happy drunk, but considering everything had been miserable as of late, he was looking awfully melancholy.

Prompto was going to be terrible company, now that he was resting his head on the bar, arms draped around it. Close enough to a place to sleep.

He probably should have stopped at a reasonable amount of alcohol.

Blame it on the hooch

[immortalmarshal]

Cor's a bit tipsy himself, but he's still steady on his feet. He was considering getting one more drink, though, when he notices Prompto seemingly conked out at the bar. Looking rather concerned, he shakes Prompto awake - or well, he tries to do so gently.

"Hey...bad place to fall asleep here. Y'all get a crick in the neck...really bad for aiming."

[warpstriking]

I. The Calm Before the (Drunken) Storm

Well, that had all escalated rather quickly. Noctis had been the one to bring it up in passing in general that they should probably unwind, maybe get a drink. Especially considering how rough some of the memories were. There was also the excuse of forming a sense of camaraderie between those who've been here a couple months and the fresh meat newcomers, but it really was just an excuse. At least to him.

Normally, he only drank in the privacy of his apartment, but that poor thing is like rubble now and that simply encourages him to walk up to the bar after making sure Prompto was in a more secluded part of the bar that wouldn't racket up his anxiety further. Besides, he knows how he gets a few drinks in. So he makes himself comfortable at the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him as he looks at the selection on the shelves behind them...

II. Ninety-Nine bottles of Firagaball on the Wall...

Later in the evening already has Noctis relaxing just a little bit more relaxed as he orders his third shot of a cinnamon whiskey he found was oddly similar to one they had back home. And, after the canned coffee shenanigans his first day here? Eh, not looking a gift chocobo in the beak. He was to the point it was a kind comfort as he lightly clinks the glass on the table and downs it.

The familiar burn is so much better than the other kind of burn, if you get what he means.

"Um," says a slightly concerned Ivory, as she nurses "Shouldn't you slow down, kupo?"

Noctis only motions to the half-eaten slice of pizza on his plate in front of him. See? At least he's responsible and not drinking on an empty stomach. He's fiiine. (He's not fine everything sucked.)

III. Let's Cling Together

It's almost 23:00 judging by the clock on his slate, which his moogle just checked to be absolutely certain that he had his asterisk set to ninja instead of- "Noct-?" Wait, where did he...? "Oh, Good King's sake..."

There is a very distressed moogle looking for her royal pain of a companion, but really, she shouldn't be too worried. He can't get that far without his preternatural warping ability (thank the gods). There's also less chance of him just roll-

No, no he's just sitting at another table. And if it's with someone he knows well enough? Well, he hopes they don't mind their personal space bubble being invaded. Otherwise, he's just sitting there in his chair, eyes a bit glossed over and suddenly feeling very chatty for once. At least, about anything other than what got them here in the first place. (It's embarrassing that all he knows is ballroom dancing, mmkay.)

...Yeah okay, and if he isn't grabbed by one of the others he might just be rolling around because he's too drunk to actually parkour. Acting like a cat high on catnip. Yep.

[OOC: If there's another thing you wanna do with Noct feel free to poke me. Otherwise, I'll match your formatting. o7]

III. Because ig dad hugs and drunken getting him home? Unless other plans for the latter.

[regisrex]

The thing is? Regis is also a little drunk. Because this place has been too much, and there is nothing that he can do about any of this. Not even about getting home to Father, who does need him.

But... He has not gone missing on Clarus or Cor. They would have told him. So maybe, just maybe, it's all right to be here for as long as he is.

Except alcohol certainly isn't making him feel cheerful. Quite the opposite, and he suspects that if he keeps on going, he might end up in tears, and he knows there are a number of people who would not like to see that. At all.

So, here he is, trying to keep his future son off the floor. Maybe.

"Hey. Easy there, Noct."

[spaceforged]

Settling down the storm

He had intended to go home and beat the crap out of the punching bag in the backyard until he was too tired to think. They’re no closer to an answer to why they’re here and he had seen...a lot of things that stirred up old ghosts and made new ones. Noctis had made the suggestion they hit a bar.

That’s how he ended up sitting at the corner of the bar with his back in the corner between the bar and the wall. He has a clear view of all the exits and anyone coming and going. Maybe he’s a bit on edge after all those memories. He has no desire to discuss their effects on him. The glass of whiskey on the bar top has been sipped off and on. It stays there whenever trouble rears up and he peels away from his spot to quell it.

While everyone starts getting deeper and deeper into their cups he will sbe mostly sober and keeping mishaps from getting bad. He doesn’t seem to mind. Even if he sighs exasperated or makes a face at something. “Okay, how about you sit down for a while.” And other such suggestions come from him when your chill fails you.

Even the rain must fall

He’s one of the last of their party to finally succumb to the alcohol in his system. The first sign? He is slower to respond to problems. He seems to consider if he should intervene or let them play out. A spark enters his grey eyes and he starts sitting with a thing of, what looks like pretzels, and his drink to let shit play out. He hasn’t been stupid about eating while he drinks but, there's just something about something you can crunch while everyone else loses it.

It isn’t he doesn’t care. He will intervene and almost seem sober and not halfway to tanked when he talks you down. No bar fights please. But he relaxes more and more, sitting at a table instead of at the bar. And finally,

I’d get up but ah who cares.

Shiro looks like he’s passed out. But when approached he opens one eye and signals for people to move on. “I’m not dead.” That seems to be about as much as one is going to get. Unless you’re older and clearly a soldier as well. One gets a ‘sir’ added at the end that sounds tired but still respectful. Even drunk off his ass he knows how to respond to his elders.

[ooc: If there's another thing you want to do with Shiro, hit me up with your ideas. Will match formatting.]

[chocobosnap]

He'd been thinking of going...somewhere. It was difficult to keep his thoughts straight when he'd had so much to drink. Prompto wasn't entirely sure where he was going, and his steps were unsteady when the stranger told him to sit down.

"...Okay." He answered, letting himself be guided to a seat.

"I'm just going-" He waved his hand. Prompto didn't know this person but they seemed nice, at least nice enough to not let him do something incredibly stupid. "Hi."

[chefbayardee]

I. Vehicular Wallflower

See, Hunk isn't old enough to get let into the bar. He knew this, but he still sought to try his luck, to puff out his chest like Lance would've, to try and convince that bartender that he's not just big for his age, he's big and an adult. It didn't work, because he just started laughing awkwardly as soon as he got to the door.

So instead, he's reclined in his shiny new Lion Speeder, legs dangling out over the sides of the cockpit, eating from a giant bag of popcorn resting in the legroom. When he's not glancing towards the bar's door, the windows, or the latest loud noise from within, he's stealing glances from a book that he borrowed from the Curti Library: Memories, The Dream Width, and You.

And if one happened to get close to the Speeder, they may notice the faint but undeniable smell of baked goods wafting from... somewhere. Wh-where is that coming from?! And are those makeshift hammocks in the side-wings?!

II. Sidecars and Cinnamon Rolls

As much as he acted the fool, Hunk was no idiot, so he knew full well that as the night dragged on, like it was now, some people might need a little help getting home. That was why, before he even left his house, he made sure to turn the Speeder's side-wings into... hammocks that sucked you in like bean-bag chairs? Wrapped and reinforced cloth piles that could fit him (he tested!), and should also be able to carry someone who's had a few too many.

With a revving of the space-age engine and the faint, futuristic purr that followed, Hunk gingerly backed the craft a bit away from the door, such that he could easily drive back towards the residential district for what may be one of many trips. And as that engine warmed up more, the smell of baked goods was superseded by the smell of bacon. One has to wonder, has Hunk ever even been around a drunk person? It doesn't matter, he knows how food works and that he can do something to help his friends so gosh darnit, he's gonna help 'em!

Even if they blorf everywhere. Especially if they blorf everywhere.

(( ooc: Of course, other prompts are possible! Just lemme knowwww if you got any ideas! ))

Wallflower

[spaceforged]

The speeder slightly sags with new weight as Shiro leans his arm against it, leaning against the speeder. "I thought I heard you earlier. Doing okay out here?" He'd been in the middle of mediating between two surly drunks when Hunk tried his luck. He'd have sighed and talked to him about this sooner but. Drunks.

Why did he agree to the bar again? He pauses, breathes in and blinks. "...wait, why does the speeder smell like a bakery?"

Oh look, a sober person | OTA

[carnageandclass]

Well that...was a nightmare. And not just talking about the one dream where they heard a disembodied voice saying that they would doom the world and everything to return to the void and all that evil mumbo jumbo. Now Camilla would not mind enjoying a nice glass of wine if she could but she knew of the possibility of getting carried away and coming home to Corrin drunk would not be good for either of them.

So what does she do instead? Order a big glass of iced tea. The bartender was a bit stunned but obliged the request as her moogle cheered her on.

"Wow, I'm surprised you decided on that drink, kupo! I would have thought that after everything..."

"Don't worry, it will take more than that to drive me so far." the princess smiles as she takes a sip, followed by taking out a couple items including some strange fabric and a needle. Some come to bars to drink, some read but this woman? She's doing embroidery. Maybe not the strangest thing but it's a nice thing to work on to calm the mind.

Just if anyone tries to get in a brawl, do it away from her before she punches someone back. Or stabs them with her needle.

[regalblaze]

I: Drinks and Games

"This is a bad idea."

Says Ignis, not stepping away from the small table with shots. He crosses his arms and gives the other person a look, then looks over at the dart board. Problem? None. Except that playing darts was turned into a drinking game- hit even number and you don't get to drink. Hit uneven number and you take a shot. Hit bull's eye and your opponent takes two shots.

"I understand the need for drinking but we will be floored in fifteen minutes."

II: Drinks and Chat

For the first time in Ignis' life, coffee and tea did nothing to alleviate the stress. It only made him even more restless, mind going in circles, replaying everything he saw in the Memory Nebulas. The composed, analytical side of him was suggesting all the rational things- calm down, take it in and give yourself time to process it.

The (mentally) injured side of him, however, was louder than the rational and suggested that drinking away problems should make him feel better. The Rational side argued back and said it won't make the problem go away.

Ignis ignored it.

For the first time in 20 years or so, Ignis Scientia ignored his rational side and sat down with bourbon in his hand. The chatter around him only supported his decision to drink even more.

"...I shouldn't drink," he mutters and downs the scorching liquid, getting Ebony to look over worriedly at him.

III: Drinks and Drunkard

"And then- it was over. Nothing."

The bartender looked Ignis over carefully. He didn't appear to be drunk- his clothes weren't messy, his hair still looked presentable. Only his cheeks were a bit pink but that could be written off to the warmth of the bar.

"Have you ever roasted a snake on an open fire?" The Bartender raised his eyebrows. Ignis continued. "The smell of snake meat is disgusting. But with proper seasonings, it makes a magnificent feast." He leans over to the Bartender who is, for some reason, entertaining Ignis and listening to his hunting stories. "One should never waste the food."

Ebony was in a bit of a panic because as the night went on, the stories Ignis told got more and more gruesome. Worried about him, the Moogle looks for the help in the nearest person that is not drunk- or is not as drunk as Ignis.

"Please, can you help me?! My charge is-"

"You go straight for the neck!" Ignis slammed his hand on the bar, making the empty shot glasses clatter and fall over.

"-he's a bit out of it! Can you help me get him back home?!"

Drinks and the drunkard

[spaceforged]

Unfortunately, the person leaning on the bar being addressed is also drunk. He's not so drunk he can't be coherent. But there's enough in him that wise decisions are not his forte. Yet, like Ignis, for all appearances he looks like he's not drunk. Wolf in sheep skin or something like that. He can't form the joke. Shiro reaches out on a whim and sets the shot glasses back up.

"Might have made better for the telling to make the gesture instead of slapping the table." He cuts his metal hand in the air in a steady and sharp motion.

open

[charming_jerk]

[Johnny isn't always the most social; it depends on his mood. He likes people more than he lets on, he's just often unsure of how to talk to and introduce himself to so many new people. He can never turn down an opportunity to hit up a bar, though, so he joins along his fellow immigrants for a few drinks.

Johnny's no small guy, and can put away a lot of beer. But then it dawns on him that he needs to be saving for moving, and eventually starts turning down the offers for refills. that means he should probably fill his time with talking with his teammates, right?]

So, uh. This memory stuff. Crazy, ain't it?

[chocobosnap]

[He lets out a groan at the mention. He's a couple drinks in, so he can leave his anxiety far back in that place where his rational mind is and he looks at Johnny.]

Could say that. [He sighs. Crazy, traumatizing, depends on the memory perhaps.]

[failtsuninari]

[Decisions, decisions]
Kenichi scanned the many bottles lined up on the back of the bar. There were so many options to choose from that the bartender had asked him twice already if he wanted something. As he contemplated, he overheard one of the local's orders to the bartender. What did they call it? A thin island lemonade? That sounded interesting.

"I'll have what they just ordered and a sampler plate of your best snacks."

[Drop the bomb]
"Alright everyone, if you can hold your drink, I got something new for you!" In one hand, he holds up a tall glass half full of a dark beer and a shot glass of whiskey in the other. Cecil the moogle could not hold his head in his furry paws, unable to watch. True Kenichi had paced himself earlier but that all changed after the bartender told him he didn't know what a bomb shot was.

"Frankly, I'm disappointed you guys didn't have this until now. The trick here is as soon as you drop the shot in the glass, drink it like there's no tomorrow like THIS!" The beer froths up as soon as the shot glass drops in and Kenichi swiftly drinks it before the mixture could overflow. He slams the now empty glass on the counter.

"And that's how you drink your basic bomb shot."

[The Aftermath]
Cecil managed to convince Kenichi to finally sit down at a table. The moogle was relieved that the ex-god didn't drink himself to stupor, but he felt it wise to close his tab for the night. As he sat and watched everyone, Cecil came back with a glass of water.

"Ugh, guess that proves I can't drink like I did back home. Remind me never to order a thin island lemonade ever again. Maybe I am getting too old for this."

[Drop the bomb]

[shinra_dog]

Reno applauds at the display with a grin. He hadn't gone for any fancy shots, kept things cheap and simple, but even he was surprised no one had done this yet. Reno wasn't sure what he expected of Kenichi but it wasn't quite this. Then again, Saori had blown his expectations out of the water as well.

If ever there were "cool parents" ... Saori and Kenichi were probably it.

"Yeah, show 'em how it's done, Pops!"

[immortalmarshal]

A - Stone-cold sober

Cor sure as hell needs a drink or three after the past day or two. But he doesn't immediately reach for the alcohol. No, not with everyone else being here and clearly drowning their sorrows, or smiles, in various drinks. Instead, he starts off sitting at a corner table, water in his glass and a full plate of food before him. He's observing everyone, only stepping in if some idiot starts reaching for something other than fists and words for a fight.

But he's not adverse if someone approaches him mid-sip of his water. "...yeah? What is it?"


B - Strong Enough to Peel Paint

Some time later, though, he finally gives in and have one drink. Or so he tells himself that it would only be one. But judging from the smell, one would be forgiven to mistake it for paint thinner. But Cor's sipping on it like it hardly effects him. The most it's done is actually make him open up a bit more to strangers and familiar faces alike.

Including a certain cosplaying Moogle. "Relax, Tommy, I'm not even buzzed. This is actually good."

"But, but...how can you drink that and not be--oh, what's the term...sloshed?"


C - Buzzed and...mmmmellow?

Late in the evening, Cor's nowhere as stoic as he normally is. He's not black-out drunk, but he's certainly had enough to show his emotions more openly. Happy subjects? He actually smiles around strangers, and jokes more easily. Sad subjects? He'll give a shoulder patt, or a one-arm hug.

Unless, of course, you've come across him when he's scowling and has a clenched fist on the bar counter. "You wanna repeat that, asshole?" he growls at the other person he was just talking to.

B

[regisrex]

On the upside, Regis actually isn't buzzed. He's just. Friendly. And he doesn't drape himself around the taller man.

Not quite, at any rate.

"So. Call it my curiosity. But after some parts of that trip, once you were properly allowed to drink, did you go to find out your limits, or did you avoid alcohol for years yet?"

Not all conversation have to be super important, right?

[hashtagdaddy]

[I. A Shield Walks Into A Bar]

It's been a strange few days. He'd heard talk of everyone getting together at a bar and after what just happened at the house, nevermind waking up on an airship and coming to this strange planet and finding out his dead father was both alive and here - yea ... he needs a drink.

Sitting at the bar, in a corner where his back can face the wall and he can see the door, Gladio orders a drink and waits.

Guess he's starting a new adventure.

[II. Scars and Conversation]

By now, he is many drinks in and though he's not drunk yet, Gladio has a pleasant buzz going on. The bar has filled up nicely and he's been mingling while he imbibes, catching up with old friends and making new ones.

Taking a moment to escape the busier center area, he moves to a mostly-empty far wall and takes a breath. He can still see Noct - mostly - and has faith that at least tonight, they can all let loose a bit and unwind.

Gladio's hand cradles his ... whatever number (he's lost count at this point) glass and the other hand comes up to trace his facial scars - he wonders if he'll earn new ones in this place too. So long as Noct is safe, so long as all his friends are safe, he'll gladly gain a thousand new ones.

[III. Drunk and Disastrous]

Though he's a bit broody when buzzed, Gladio is an absolute delight when drunk.

Wearing a goofy grin, he flops down at the nearest table and begins telling wild stories of his adventures on Eos to anyone who will listen. Complete with wild gestures and incredible sound effects.

Of course, every story is interspersed with wild flirting. There are so many attractive people in this place - and he's never been too picky about gender. His words may be a little slurred, but rest assured his stories aren't embellished too much and his sweet talk is sincere.

III.

[sonoftenebrae]

[Ravus has already been through a cycle of emotions by this point, and he's exhausted and drunk and tired of feeling a Lunafreya-shaped hole inside of himself.

So when he hears Gladiolus Fucking Amicitia, regaling the bar of his exploits at the next table over, and waving his damned massive arms around and turning his gruff charm on his onlookers, Ravus drains his glass and stumbles over.]

Amicitia. You. Should shut your mouth. [Ravus is focusing more on speaking deliberately than delivering a witty retort. He never lets himself get this drunk, and this is why.]

If you weren't. so busy. gal-galliv-camping everywhere... [His brain fails at the words, instead helpfully supplying him a mental picture of Lunafreya and Noctis lying still, side by side, Ignis collapsing after protecting his king. He loses the train of thought and starts again.]

...you're no shield.