[open/mingle] (505): Thank you for holding my vodka while the police let me ride their horse.

[valr]

Who: Everyone!!
Where: An assortment of bars in Old Town
When: End of week 4
Summary: This is now a mingle log for anyone n Westerley who happens to be getting their drink on in the last couple days of chapter 2. Post a top level! Tag around! Dance on the bar! Newbies who just joined are more than welcome to hop in if your characters were around in chapter 2! Exclamation marks!
Restrictions/Warnings: Alcohol obvs, if anything else goes down please warn in the comments because I can't keep track of everything

Comments

OTA

[brokeassgoing]

[is everyone having a good time? lost any teeth yet? From the occasional and inevitable fight, whereever you are, of course, not from the booze-- well maybe don't jinx it.

Its hard to tell from this angle, whether or not the idiot plastered facedown on the table is passed out or what but if you come close enough he'll at least wiggle.

If you poke him some space?? Avril Lavgine lyrics might slip out. At least he's having a good time? Maybe? It's. Hard to tell.]

[sin_of_wrath]

[Uncaring bartenders would simply work around someone like Badou. They would let the drool set in and clean it later. To them, disturbing exceedingly drunk and conked out patrons would waste their time. On the other hands, Meliodas was a bit different. He sat across from Badou as a few of his more tipsy drinkers left, their swagger indicated a night spent well. The place was slowly emptying.

Meliodas had set a dry napkin under Badou's cheek, he left a hot towel in a dish across from him and even left a mint between both items. He hummed to himself and ran through his finances on a little tablet, waiting for Badou to either wake up or toss himself on the floor.

Either way, Meliodas was waiting for and prepared to handle a mess. Even so, Meliodas was the sort to keep his drunks in good order. They would remember it later, he thought.]

[brokeassgoing]

[this is the nicest anyones ever been to him including his own mother and he's barely even paying attention
if he's conscious.

It takes him another five minutes or so but up comes his chin from the table, drooled napkin sticking to his face and his eye glassy. He sniffles through a bruised nose and clucks his tongue.]

....The hell're you doing? It ain't closing time yet.

[sin_of_wrath]

[Meliodas' pleasant humming died down as a napkin rose from the table and spoke to him. It was a very strong napkin--capable of holding up an entire man with its weight.

Meliodas reached over to peel the napkin off of Badou's cheek.]

If you're really that curious, my 'staff' goes to bed at a reasonable time, so I need to get started early. I'm pretty sure that nobody's going to come around asking me for refunds to throw my orders off, too.

[brokeassgoing]

What kinda establishment is this, that anything's reasonable.

[huffing, he leans his chin into his arms and curls himself as far away from Meliodas as possible]

Shitty customers, yeah? Tell me about it.

[sin_of_wrath]

[Snorting, the bar owner finished up the first half of the night's transactions, saved the document and turned off the tablet.]

You'd be surprised which people are the actual troublemakers, actually.

[fledges]

[Everyone she knows is drunk, and she's just a little tipsy. This is both a blessing and a curse, because while it's way easier to make fun of someone when you're not as far gone as they are, you're also at least a little responsible for wrangling the ones that are totally trashed.

Badou looks... totally trashed. "Wrangling" consists of Kate giving him a little shove, scoffing when he mumbles something in response.]

Hey, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine.

[brokeassgoing]

[he snuffles and moans and when his head tips to one side there's that little green peeper looking at her curiously.]

Whazzit?

[at least he sounds a little...coherent? he doesn't thrash around so at least he probably recognizes her]

[fledges]

God, Badou, you're practically drooling.

[She's teasing, though. How could she not tease him in his time of need?]

[brokeassgoing]

[he clucks his tongue and licks his chops, shrugging one shoulder.]

So? You'd be drooling too if you had my day today. I know my rights to drool...

[fledges]

Unless it was the worst day of your entire life, drooling is off the table.

[Get it? Well, it's a bar, so the pun doesn't quite work, but hey.]

[caninity]

[Ding dong what's goin' on. Heine's gonna do Badou the favor of waking him up, lest the bar owner have to clean up after him. After ordering a drink (water with lemon, ice) he's shimmyed his way over to the unconscious heap of companion animal, whereby he overturns the glass over Badou's head....pouring it's contents (straw and all) directly onto his scalp.]

[brokeassgoing]

[No matter how crazy the shit hits, Badou can always count on Heine to shit on him. Possibly literally, no one really knows, just suspects.

It's almost comforting, if not very cold and wet. The ginger shoots up with a SHRIEK INTO HELL, immediately taking the straw to Heine's nose in response--]

MOTHERFUCK!!!

[caninity]

[Before the straw can puncture his brain, Heine'll grab it, catch it in a fist. Probably should have gone for the wrist, but that straw is entirely offensive.]

Don't make a scene.

[Says the guy who just overturned ice water on a sleeping man's head....]

[brokeassgoing]

YOU DON'T MAKE A SCENE! ASSHOLE.

[they're definitely making a scene but it isn't a giant one as of yet]

[caninity]

[Maybe the water should have been lukewarm. Would've been weird to order something like that, though.]

I wasn't.

[At least, that wasn't his mission.]

[reburden]

[ Ordinarily, Kim's happy to let sleeping dogs men lie and pretend as though they don't exist. Unfortunately, currently sleeping (??) guy is hogging the only free table in the entire goddamn bar and Kim's got no desire to struggle through the crowds for a second look-see, which means he'll need to take matters into his own hands. (Unfortunately x2, he's only got one free hand right now, the other holding an ice cold beverage.)

He looks left. Looks right. Then carefully juts out one elbow and tries to shove the man off the table. Sorry, my dude, but he'd really like to have a seat. ]

[brokeassgoing]

[WOW HOW FUCKING RUDE no one has manners these days especially when getting their drink on.

That's alright though because Badou won't make this easy either. He rolls just a little and snuffles but that's it.]

[reburden]

[ oh my GOD the nerve

Fine, whatever, he can apply a little more force. No he can't, he's a fucking wet noodle, also for crying out loud, how much did this guy have to eat and drink? Maybe he should try a different tactic. ]

Excuse me. [ Look, so polite!! ] Can you move over?

[brokeassgoing]

[At least his eye opens and eventually focuses on whoever is bothering him]

The hell? Can't you see I'm busy here, damn. Some people are so self-absorbed...

[at least he moves an arm? There's some space]

[reburden]

Busy.

[ He repeats the word, as though he can't quite believe what he's hearing. (He can't.) Somewhere nearby, a glass smashes against the ground. A man yells. He pays it all no mind. ]

You're sleeping. Go do that at home.

[ He doesn't take advantage of the open space just yet. ]

[uncrownings]

[Noctis is in the bar for- pretty much the only reason he goes to the bar. He's working. Here "working" is keeping an eye on the patrons in the hopes that he'll spot the person he's supposed to be meeting before they spot him. The good time is questionable, but he's avoided the requisite teeth losing and fight that ended in a table's impressive transformation into kindling. It's the small victories.

When he gets to the ginger face down on the counter Noctis isn't looking for a seat to claim as his own, but it still brings him up short. That's a lot of hair. And if the surface is as sticky with booze as it looks, he doesn't envy the poor girl.

...Is she even breathing?]

Please don't be dead.

[brokeassgoing]

[there's a groan but so far 'she' doesn't roll over-- all that drool is just. There's a lot. Please help.

Hopefully he'll drown.]

[uncrownings]

[Oh. That's.

That's so gross.

Noctis looks at the mostly empty mug in his hand, looks back at the table and puddle of drool. And then he slowly lowers the mug to the floor and slides it over- the way a bucket is used to remedy a leaking roof.

In retrospect this probably isn't very helpful but other options include maybe touching that and no???]

[brokeassgoing]

[at least it looks like he's alive? from the trickle of that drool?? and also there's groaning, he groans and his gaze swivels to the forefront]