Finn, Ratso and Chow (Dark Hand Enforcers) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoogesofsanfran) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lightdriven2016-03-06 12:11 am
stoogesofsanfran) wrote in lightdriven2016-03-06 12:11 am
Entry tags:
What gets you drunker quicker? What comes in bottles or in cans?
WHO: 2/3 of the Enforcers and anyone else interested in drunk shenanigans.
WHAT: BOOZE! And then two rather drunk ex-cons.
WHEN: The same evening people find the town, the drunkards.
WHERE: Kangaskhan's cafe and then the city streets.
WARNINGS: Alcohol, possible references to alcoholism, language and potentially talk of things related to organized crime depending on where conversations go. Violence is not out of the question, either.
Late Afternoon
[It has been a Day. Maybe not one of the worst Days the Enforcers have had, but any Day that starts with finally getting out of prison and then utterly destroys the relief of freedom calls for alcohol. Having left Ratso behind with some excuse about Valmont needing someone who wasn't weak to cold around, Finn and Chow had set out in search of whatever this place has that passes for a bar. What they find isn't quite worthy of being called a bar, pub, or even tavern, but a cafe with an alcoholic drink menu is close enough. Except for one small problem...]
We comb this dumb ice sculpture city for hours, and all we find is generic brand beer? Lame.
[Somehow the black and white Murkrow is holding the drink in question in one wing, which seems to be acting remarkably like a hand. Of course, his complaint doesn't stop him from pouring a good amount of it into his beak.]
They couldn't at least have the decency to have invented whiskey already?
So you could get drunk off yer ass like usual an' make me carry ya back ta our new pad? Hah, dream on.
[The all black Combusken doesn't seem to have any compunctions about getting himself drunk, though, as he downs his own drink and waves for a refill.]
Maybe this way ya'll have time ta notice yer already wasted before ya end up trippin' over yer own feet.
Oh shut up, I know perfectly well when to stop if I gotta walk somewhere. Besides, I'm not the one that ends up picking fights with street lamps.
That was one time!
[...Maybe someone should come check on them, before their squabbling scares off the other patrons?]
Evening
[An afternoon of drinking inevitably leads to an evening of trying to get home drunk. Trying to get home drunk, when you have ditched your usual designated driver, is not as easy as it sounds, despite not sounding particularly easy. Add in unfamiliar territory, and you end up with two very lost birds, wobbling down the street.]
I'm tellin' ya, Finn, we jus' came by this way. [Chow manages a glare behind his sunglasses as he shifts a crate in his arms so he can point, producing a clinking and swishing sound of full bottles.] The hotel's back...thattaways. Somewhere.
An' I'm tellin' you... [Thoroughly inebriated, Finn's words come out with a light Irish accent.] I know where I'm goin'! I remember exactly how we got to that place.
Fer pity's sake, ya featherbrained asshole, we wandered! I swear ta whatever weird animal god this place's got, if you got us lost, I'm gonna kick yer ass so hard ya'll be tastin' bird shit fer a month!
Aww settle, before ye lay an egg! If it comes down to it, I could always just head on up and get us a bird's eye view of the way back.
[This. This is a terrible idea. He can barely walk straight, let alone fly. Someone stop him before he hurts himself.]
WHAT: BOOZE! And then two rather drunk ex-cons.
WHEN: The same evening people find the town, the drunkards.
WHERE: Kangaskhan's cafe and then the city streets.
WARNINGS: Alcohol, possible references to alcoholism, language and potentially talk of things related to organized crime depending on where conversations go. Violence is not out of the question, either.
Late Afternoon
[It has been a Day. Maybe not one of the worst Days the Enforcers have had, but any Day that starts with finally getting out of prison and then utterly destroys the relief of freedom calls for alcohol. Having left Ratso behind with some excuse about Valmont needing someone who wasn't weak to cold around, Finn and Chow had set out in search of whatever this place has that passes for a bar. What they find isn't quite worthy of being called a bar, pub, or even tavern, but a cafe with an alcoholic drink menu is close enough. Except for one small problem...]
We comb this dumb ice sculpture city for hours, and all we find is generic brand beer? Lame.
[Somehow the black and white Murkrow is holding the drink in question in one wing, which seems to be acting remarkably like a hand. Of course, his complaint doesn't stop him from pouring a good amount of it into his beak.]
They couldn't at least have the decency to have invented whiskey already?
So you could get drunk off yer ass like usual an' make me carry ya back ta our new pad? Hah, dream on.
[The all black Combusken doesn't seem to have any compunctions about getting himself drunk, though, as he downs his own drink and waves for a refill.]
Maybe this way ya'll have time ta notice yer already wasted before ya end up trippin' over yer own feet.
Oh shut up, I know perfectly well when to stop if I gotta walk somewhere. Besides, I'm not the one that ends up picking fights with street lamps.
That was one time!
[...Maybe someone should come check on them, before their squabbling scares off the other patrons?]
Evening
[An afternoon of drinking inevitably leads to an evening of trying to get home drunk. Trying to get home drunk, when you have ditched your usual designated driver, is not as easy as it sounds, despite not sounding particularly easy. Add in unfamiliar territory, and you end up with two very lost birds, wobbling down the street.]
I'm tellin' ya, Finn, we jus' came by this way. [Chow manages a glare behind his sunglasses as he shifts a crate in his arms so he can point, producing a clinking and swishing sound of full bottles.] The hotel's back...thattaways. Somewhere.
An' I'm tellin' you... [Thoroughly inebriated, Finn's words come out with a light Irish accent.] I know where I'm goin'! I remember exactly how we got to that place.
Fer pity's sake, ya featherbrained asshole, we wandered! I swear ta whatever weird animal god this place's got, if you got us lost, I'm gonna kick yer ass so hard ya'll be tastin' bird shit fer a month!
Aww settle, before ye lay an egg! If it comes down to it, I could always just head on up and get us a bird's eye view of the way back.
[This. This is a terrible idea. He can barely walk straight, let alone fly. Someone stop him before he hurts himself.]
no subject
[Which he can't do but SHHHHH.] Nice meeting you! Heard you made some quick work with that ice scam huh?
[He's calling the rooms that now. Forever.] Managed to get the other fire-guy around here to help; pretty sure he's more irritated about sharing with me than the other way around though, [he huffs, crossing his arms. As if the grass one shouldn't be more worried right??]