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?!"
no subject
"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?!"