Dwarf
Inactive Player
Gold:
Brewer
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Tobin on Apr 15, 2014 14:43:05 GMT
-OOC I love how we are all treating the landers as either friends or property. Word count: 908- “Ahhh, fair enough, sounds great.” The reply was kept terse as he had by now the impression that small talk wasn’t particularly effective on the level 60 player. -Perhaps she’ll be more vocal after a drink-The dwarfs first response was to stare at the humanoid Ragnaock with a somewhat amused chuckle, all the while his hands had never stopped moving and in the space it had taken to make the reply, the dwarf’s plate had been filled with various grilled meats, gammon, lamb, beef rump, black pudding egg, pork sausage mushrooms. The epic quest to unite the heroes of the pallet had been accomplished in record time of 13.3 seconds! “Ahahah! My friends the night is still young! Heck it’s not even night yet! Loosen up a bit, the drinks are free so you might as well give it a try, who knows, you might just like the taste!”After that, no number of distractions could deny him the meal any further. The only quest remaining was to slay the dragon of gluttony that receded deep in the stomach of despair. One by one, the great heroes were sacrificed, first the beef of angus thrust himself in, hoping to tank the foul beasts legendary acid with his strong rich texture, but he was defeated. Followed by the cleric of gammon that soothed the senses with a well-balanced salted stake sensation, this was followed by a carving of the DPS black pudding, it’s deep, rich spiced coppery flavour inflicting a critical hit upon the threshold of desire… The quest was broken by the arrival of the straws and he drew one and chuckled, somewhat relieved about not being the King first, though as his eyes found the long straw, his humoured expression was quilled. The dwarf stroked his beard somewhat thoughtfully, before he leant towards the broad guardian across the table and whispered, suddenly much more interested in the conversation before “Oxford, my dear friend, what was the worst to have happened?”At this point the dwarf picked up one of the bottles of cider up and poured a little into a glass, and took a few razzberries , throughout the remainder of any discussions he take a small sample, apply a little crafting of the fruit then taking a light sip, all to indulge his sense of curiosity while he listened. “Wait, I sing? Ah… Give me a minute.”
There was a pause as his mouth dried out, his fat fingers drummed the table intensely. He hadn’t sung for years, the last time he had done so he had scared off a potential mate! Yet he had just the perfect cheerful song to sing… With a wicked grin on his face and a snapped of fingers he strolled over to the bar and gestured, exchanging a few hushed whispers with them and banging his fist on the table at a steady beat. There were a few puzzled expressions to which the dwarf shrugged and commented loudly “It will be a hoot, trust me on this.” He strode back to the table, pausing only to pour and down another glass of tangy apple cider before Tobin coughed, and began to rymicaly pound the table with his fist, hitting a basic four beat turn. “You’ll get what this is soon enough.” He smiled with a chuckle, the echo of his lone fist soon picked up by the thumping beat of the bar staff, creating an absence of synergistic thudding. Soon he began to hum three times, by now anyone who had heard this 1978’s camp song would be familiar with the tune as he started to stride around the table, singing in a rich deep, camp voice as he attempted to draw the table into joining him striding over to Oxford and the King to begin his table circuit. “Young man, There’s no need to feel down , I say young man, pick yourself off the ground, I say young man, because you’re in a new town there’s no need to be unhappy”
“Young man, there's a place you can go. I said, young man, when you're short on your dough. You can stay there, and I'm sure you will find, Many ways to have a good time.”
At this point, he strolled up to the two embracing men and, with a merciless smile, clapped their asses with a resounding series of claps before hopping onto the table and striding across, dancing around the food as he went through the motions. “It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. They have everything for you men to enjoy, You can hang out with all the boys ..."
"It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. You can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal, You can do whatever you feel...”And with that he jumped off the table to land on his chair, only for the momentum to topple him over backwards with a responding crash. “Gah… Want me to continue? I can easily get another two hundred words by singing this! Bahahah!” He chuckled as he drew himself back up and returned to his forbidden love, the black pudding, consuming the black biscuit with a single knock back of his head. Now no one could know what they had shared for the short time it had recided on his plate. -OOC www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS9OO0S5w2k and breaking the fourth wall, a sign of a good party!-
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Wolf Hair
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Pathfinder
Guild:
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Post by Shepard Dagon on Apr 15, 2014 15:03:28 GMT
Enough Abuse, Better Leave. Shepard was really tired of all the things that these guys had with their superiority just for being adventurers. A shadowy figure of his shikigami started to form behind him for a moment before his eyes went full golden. He really hated the way everything was going and the arrogance that monk was showing, yet he managed to call down, at least a bit to avoid starting a fight, just because his friends were there, the shaman did nothing more than stand up and talk to everyone before the dwarf started with his things.-Shepard- I'm afraid I have to leave, I can't stand such arrogance and impertinence. My strict moral doesn't allow me to keep the company of such half-witted person. My apologies to the others.Saying those words the shaman changed his clothes to the armor once again and gave another bag of gold to the waiter that was bullied before asking for forgiveness.He will talk to his guild mates later and apology to the others personally, but he can't bear one more second in the presence of the monk, not many made Shepard feel disgust, but that girl sure did. The breaking point was calling him a pup and even having the imprudence to give orders even without being chosed as the king, and asking such thing to him, it was a lot of idiocy for him to manage. Better leave before cause problems to his friends and to the owners of the establishment.Tags: Ragnarok Kumori @dindeen @0x1dea Scoria Elkeid Tobin Word Count : 252 Post Exit
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Nine.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Tailor
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Kumori on Apr 16, 2014 5:53:50 GMT
| Kumori HP: 100% MP: 100% | "In order to live, I will continue to fight. In order to retain my humanity, I will continue to destroy those who mean to harm my friends." |
| Skills: | Quick Slot:
- Windsor Antiqua Throwing Knives |
He could feel the glares coming from several people, but he could care less. They were being terrible people to the landers, and if they wanted to continue doing so, he’d throw them out and make them feel the same way. He didn’t mind being the temporary bad guy, so long as they treated the landers nicely. Besides, this party was supposed to get to know people and have fun. Unfortunately, the King game was not his definition of fun. Knowing what this meant, he began eating as much as possible. Food usually helped with keeping a man sober longer. He was beginning to eat lots and lots of bread, because the less he ate, the more he would regret it later. And tomorrow, he was probably not going to remember a thing about what happened. He was always terrified about times where he blacked out. He didn’t do it often, which is why he still cared if he remembered the occurrences that happened or not. He began eating as much of the bread as possible, in addition to eating as much other food that may help him with holding more liquor in his stomach.
“Umm… are you sure King’s ga-,” it was too late. Kyuu had already gone to get the straws for them to choose from. Oh man, he thought. See. The thing about drinking and Kyuu was that they never usually ended well. When Kyuu got drunk, she’d drink more. And when she drank more, she drank even more… It was a vicious cycle until she passed out. She holds a decent amount of liquor for her size, but never did he want to see her drunk again. She didn’t drink often, so she didn’t know her limits. He shrugged. It’s a party after all. As long as they were in town, they were mostly safe, and hopefully the guards wouldn’t show up if they drunkenly drew weapons.
After he drew a straw from the stack, Ryuu looked over towards who had the longest, and he could only bash his head into the table. Shepard took his leave soon after as he did not want any part of it. Ryuu sighed as he was about to face this ordeal somewhat alone. The dwarf began singing YMCA, a song that really didn’t have much to do with what was going on here. Was he gay? He wondered that bit, because he definitely acted like it, not that he had anything against it, it was just… weird. He looked towards Elkeid and waited for her to bring on his order. He looked at Oxford who was being used as a footrest and felt sorry for him. She was surprisingly nice to Kyuu, but gave Scoria Tequila and tabasco. It wasn’t a combination Ryuu was fond of. In addition, Ragnarok was supposed to hug Shepard, but Shepard left, so… he was in the clear. Ryuu watched as the keg came out of the back and sighed as he stood up from his seat and approached the keg. The man helped turn him upside down and he sighed as he took the straw into his mouth and began drinking the keg. He continued to do so until it was completely finished.
OOC NOTES: Word Count: 540 words
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Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Chef
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Ragnarok on Apr 16, 2014 8:07:36 GMT
What is Mass Destruction? This woman is Mass Destruction.
A game of Kings. Ragnarok had heard such a game back in the real world during one of his journeys in the JRPG district. He couldn't remember exactly which game it was, but he knew that the King's Game would bring no good amongst this group, especially to him. Ragnarok took another sip of his palatable water as he reviewed the scenario that was set before him. To him, the only problems that he had with the others was Scoria and Elkeid. Scoria's attitude prior to the situation set his gears in the wrong direction, and Elkeid was the type of person that set him on fire. If he ever threw a look at Elkeid, all she would get would be a glare of a killer. The Assassin hated having others mistreated, especially when those that are hurt are lower than the offender. Still, Ragnarok couldn't do anything about the situation so he just simply had to bare through everything.
Moments after the announcement of the King's Game, Caerbannog ended up pulling out eight straws, one for each of the members. To her side, she had to prepare them, and this was going to be how the king was decided. Ragnarok chuckled to himself, wondering who would get it and how bad the King's orders would be. He quietly looked over everyone's expressions, noting the different faces: Kumori's nervousness, Shepard's distaste, Tobin's gayness, Elkeid's smooth arrogancy, Scoria's stagnant look of dislike, Oxford's coolness, and Caer's joy. As for Ragnarok, he was just happy to be included in this game, but he didn't know what trouble he was getting into. As he pulled his own straw from the pile, he noticed the face on Elkeid change into what resembled a devil. To his own face, it was filled with a sudden despair.
"No...No way...I...I can't...What?! If she's really the king, then I swear, if she makes me do anything that I deem morally wrong, I will strangle her with the power of a thousand suns going through the process of supernovas while being sucked in by several black holes at the same time. It may seem extreme, but for a person like her, justice should be done upon those that deserve it."
His entire thoughts showed through his own face, an image that glared deep at Elkeid with an anger that could not be swelled. He cast a few glances towards the other members, some of them had disdain towards the situation, while others were more accepting, specifically Tobin. He waited for the King's orders to come in, knowing that whatever happened to him, it was going to either end up in a bloody mess or a mess of broken glass. His temperament soon brought him to taking another sip of his water, enjoying the sweet taste of lemonade and water in this bitter moment. All of his waiting happened during the same time of Tobin's singing of Y.M.C.A. which to Ragnarok, was displeasing. He never really favored such English songs, favoring the Japanese music over today's generation.
"Hmm...At least he's happy doing it. Albeit, he's a little off-tune on some of his lines, I can forgive it. I was never the best singer at school either, but the song choice isn't that great. Sure, it's a popular song and everything, but there's so many more songs as well. Then again, who knows how to sing a Japanese song at this table? Not many I'd assume, plus the English covers of those songs aren't usually the best, but they're decent at most. Wait...What was that?"
Ragnarok's thoughts were soon interrupted by the declaration of the King's orders for him. The King's order for Ragnarok were to: "The pup and Ragnarok are to tenderly hold one another - for a full minute - to defeat their hate with feelings of love." Ragnarok looked at her calmly with a blank expression for several seconds, deciding what he was going to do next.
"Okay. She can be strangled or she can be punched in her face. To be honest with myself, I'm okay with giving Shepard a hug, but the way she says it, it disgusts me. She calls him a dog, and wants us to cleanse our hatred with these facades of love? No way. I'm not having any of this. She has disrespected us for the last time. Get ready Elke. Even for a kind guy like me, I still do justice where justice is served."
He cracked his head, looking off into the distance while cracking his fingers underneath the table as to surprise Elkeid when he struck out, but suddenly, someone stood up from the table, stopping any more action from him. It was Shepard. He was probably disgusted at the situation, and Ragnarok thought right as he revealed his purpose only moments after: "I can't stand such arrogance and impertinence. My strict moral doesn't allow me to keep the company of such half-witted person." Shepard left The King's Throne soon after, leaving Ragnarok without a partner to hug, and without a duty to fulfill. He chuckled under his breath, picking up his water and drinking it clean before asking for a refill.
"Oh well. I guess I don't have an order to fulfill then. I guess the King's order was poorly chosen."
Ragnarok wasn't one to taunt, but in this case, he needed to fill good about the situation. Elkeid was one of the worst people he had ever met, and so she deserved being put down. In his own head, he had began thinking his Revengeance that he would enact on Elkeid. He'd do it for Kumori and Shepard, knowing that the three of them shared the same opinion of her. The Assassin took up his glass that a waiter had filled with delectable lemonade this time around, and took sips from the glass, watching the chaos that was created by Elkeid proceed; only, Ragnarok had half of a smile on his face. One could say that it was filled with one of a scheming trickster, but to Ragnarok, his plan had already been created.
WC: 1026
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2014 8:59:30 GMT
Elkeid was King. Holy hell. Was that fate or what? Thankfully she was rather forgiving to the people around her, or that was what Caerbannog thought anyway. Considering that she had no qualms about dumping her drink down a man’s pants, the samurai expected much worse things from her. When the orders were given out and consequently executed with help from the restaurant’s staff, the blue-eyed wolf-hair seemed a bit too enthusiastic to carry out her part. She sat down on the same spot where she was before the whole ordeal and raised her right hand excitedly.
“ I like lemons! “ she said while being a bit loud even though she was not drunk yet.
Caerbannog sucked on the lemon wedge which was given to her while everyone else carried out their orders; most of them unwilling, Shepard included. The shaman was so put off by everything that he just left. At that point, the samurai wondered what would have happened if the situation was reversed, if the shaman drew the King’s straw? But her mind soon trailed off as the alcohol kicked in. It was easy to get Kyuu drunk, but unlike other drunk people who passed out or got sleepy, the girl ended up with something like a sugar high and would keep drinking through the night- and perhaps through a few days and nights too.
Being a native of Germany and due to the lack of her memory of getting drunk in college, she did not know what a keg stand was. So when it was Kumori’s turn to fulfill the King’s orders, she pitied him a bit. The samurai thought herself fortunate that she was not ordered to do that. The instruction for Ragna was also understandably upsetting thus the glare, but luckily his partner left and so the young man was excused for that round. Tobin was, as expected, more than happy to fulfill his entertaining orders. The girl then began to gather the straws so that they could draw for another round. Once everyone was ready, she’d let them draw, except for Elkeid. She just wanted to keep things a bit fair, though Caerbannog would not keep the straws away from the woman forever. All in all, six straws were drawn with the exception of Elkeid and Shepard.
“ You draw again next round, okay? “ the samurai said to the monk, and then she looked at her own straw but wasn't disheartened at all when it seemed short. Instead she held up her lemon wedge for Elkeid to see, “ More please? “
If everyone looked around the table, they would notice that the one with the longest straw was the most vertically-challenged adventurer in their party.
OOC Notes: Elkeid and Shepard are excluded from the draw. I did not have to reroll though. Tobin came out as the King on the first click: [ link] EDIT: I recommend that the new King post first so that we can all reply accordingly. Word Count: 450 Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Kumori Scoria Ragnarok Elkeid Tobin
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Dwarf
Inactive Player
Gold:
Brewer
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Tobin on Apr 16, 2014 12:58:27 GMT
-OOC: OMG Character development in a drinking thread? Who would have throught! I also made the assumption that Elkeid may have been amused by the general antics, though if that’s incorrect I’ll change the post. Basically, post in whatever order you see fit, as long as everyone posts once, ending with the new wave of straws being dealt out. Word Count: 565-
By the time he had pulled himself back up onto the table, Tobin had noticed that the Sharman had already departed long before the routine had started and that everyone was still rather subdued, aside from the Monk and Samurai who seemed to be having some fun. He sighed deeply as he reached out for the straw, the party was going to take a lot more gas then he had expected. His mood turned from sombrely to a chuckle as he noticed the lengthened straw held in his hands, he clambered back to stand on the chair to gain some much needed height.
“Well, this was unexpected.” His mood sobered as he thoughtfully examined the straw, rubbing his head with his hand as he made some attempt to talk everyone down. “Though first of all, this party's in pretty damp spirits and right now let me burst your bubble. We are not a main character in our own anime, so if your all not gonna relax a little I calmly suggest you just go. I’ve lost an entire foot in height, an entire inch of pork sausage and chances are I lost my job and everything I had worked for. So yeah, I don’t need any pussies ruining this mood, or I’ll have to… have to… ermmm” He paused amidst his rambling rant, having lost track of what he was saying in this serious moment. He then erupted in laughter having recalled he was level 1, lost his temper and slipped into a period of character development in what was meant to be a drinking game.
“Well I guess as a level one the very worst I can do to any of you is lick your hands in a way you’re not comfortable when ya gut me, but you get the point. These guys have put their heads together to make a slapdash show, so let’s have some fun, alright? Anyways, you need to be standing for this one, this one’s a doozy.”
He spun around on his chair and gestured in the space next to him, grabbing 12 glasses total, 6 shot and 6 small glasses, he proceeded to pour in a large amount of a sugary caffeinated drink into the small glass, before filling a bit of Jagermeister into the shot glass and placed it into the larger glass, so that it sat with its rim just above the sugary liquid.
“This is a jagerbomb, I’m sure most of you know what happens when a stimulant and depressant is mixed together.” he paused. “Fun happens.”
“The king’s decree is simple; you simply tell me a story of yourself using no less than 40 words. You don’t tell, you drink” He smiled, gesturing for the same number of glasses and filled them using the same method. “The twist is that you have to tell me while giving a handstand like my granddad. You do one thing, you drink once. You fail both, you drink both. I’ll tell you the result after everyone’s had a go.”
He coughed as he jabbed a fork into his stake beef and rotated it around on the end of his fork, taking bites out of it as he rotated and listened with a sagely expression. Getting to learn a bit about everyone, setting an amusing task AND the possibility for bewbs? Tobin chuckled, he had to be a genius.
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If you think yourself the hero, then beware the villains.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Courtesan
Guild:
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Post by Scoria on Apr 16, 2014 19:48:04 GMT
Well, Shepard left. That was simultaneously expected and a relief, because while some people could hold their tempers and act civil, it seemed like the Shaman might not have been one of them. And from the cracking of Ragna's head (which was honestly about as obvious a 'I'm a macho dude' action as one could get) and the subsequent hands under the table, Scoria was a little concerned things might turn south. "My strict morals" Had Scoria not been Scoria, he would have fallen out of the chair laughing. God, these guys were a serious riot. Had Scoria had the magic powers of metagaming and magical mind-reading insight, he would have flipped the table over on all of them (except Caer, Ox, and Tobin), but he did not possess those powers, so he continued to sit there being his surly self. At any rate, Elkeid's orders were about what he expected them to be. Despite her rather violent personality and all that he knew of her, she really didn't seem the type to inflict any real damage. She might wound your pride, but she was the same kind of idiot as Kumori, after all. That was how they had met. It had been such a lovely meeting too. Scoria's glare deepened as one of his shot glasses suddenly vanished, the hot sauce already dumped in the glasses before. It was official. He liked Tobin. Tobin was a good dude. His choice of song was also basically pure hilarity and even Scoria's unending winter glare receded only slightly until it became a look of utter dispassion. He was pretty hilarious and into it and the guy clearly liked parties, so Scoria was almost immediately fond of him. Also because he wasn't an asshole. COUGHKUMORIELKEIDSHEPARDRAGNAEVERYONEELSECOUGH. Cough. Scoria didn't have to suffer any direct singing from the dwarf, but his antics were more or less what was keeping this party going. Scoria continued to eat his salad as he watched the rest of the group, another shot vanishing in the middle of bites, just as Tobin fell over. Scoria might have even considered getting up to help him, but the player seemed pretty alright, so he let it go. Hahaha Kumori had to do a keg. No sympathy at all. One good shot at that guy would have been nice, but it wasn't happening. He spoke too much and while Scoria could have handled a punch-out, he was sure Kumori was going to cause his ears to bleed first. Pass. Having been in his fair share (and unfair share as well) of fights and dealing with people who were a little too drunk, Scoria's eyes were more or less flicking across the table every so often as he continued to eat his cabbage. It seemed that Ragna was content to taunt, much like the victors of the old wars, but he couldn't help but wonder if any of them had actually learned a thing from history. It wasn't as though Scoria was a particularly good student, but... Whatever. Yet another shot quickly vanished into Scoria's stomach as he continued to quietly eat, throwing a glance over at Oxford. The guy had a fairly high tolerance, or so he had thought, but at the very least he was tolerant of Elkeid's shenanigans. As long as he didn't have a big pride issue, things would be fine. Caer's rather loud reaction to the lemon and asking for another was not missed by the druid (was she a drinker?), but Scoria had at least one more shot to finish this off. He had realized at around the first shot that this was mexican tequila. In other words, 100% from that agave plant, with no other alcohol mixed in. Something like that was sipped, not swilled or taken in a shot. Scoria regretted making the first shot vanish, and the rest he sipped, despite the hot sauce. He wasn't a drinker, but he did know a little about drinks. It also helped that no matter what it actually was, Scoria seemed completely immune. Seemed being the operative word. It was highly recommended no one bring him any pies. At any rate, the last of the shots was sipped and went straight into his stomach followed by more cabbage and sometimes some bread. Kumori had had the right idea filling up on bread to avoid getting hit by the alcohol too hard, but it was already a little too late for that. He was doing a keg. At any rate, the straws were up once more and Scoria had finished his drinks, so he went back to drinking his milk and eating his cabbages and oranges. Hopefully, he wouldn't be forced to- Goddammit Tobin. Scoria had had such a high opinion of the man until he decided to do the worst thing he could have done. He gave a speech.Why, Tobin. Why. Well, Scoria did feel the need to speak eventually. Scoria continued to drink his milk, sipping it and enjoying the taste as Tobin continued to explain. Time to tuck in his shirt. Scoria quickly went to tuck the thing into his pants as he stood up and moved to one side, glancing over at the rest of the table. The flat look on his face and the permanent glare didn't help smooth over the way things were said, but speeches were speeches. Oxford got one. Kumori got one. Even Tobin got one. Why couldn't he get a speech too? "We're all making speeches, so I'll make one too. If you think yourself the hero, beware the villains. I'll go first." Scoria had tucked in his shirt already, so there wasn't any need to tuck it in now as he fell backwards and rolled backwards, popping straight up into a handstand. What story to tell. He briefly considered painting a story about the time he met Elkeid to make her look really bad, but he was sure she'd go next and tell it the other way. Then Kumori would really take him outside. If this was a chat, it would be around where someone would put the (笑) or 'lol' into the conversation log, depending on who you were talking to. This wasn't a chat though, so Scoria kind of just stood there with his handstand as he prepared to give a story about himself. What would be good. ...Wait, was Tobin trying to force character development? To hell with that. Besides, the sooner you got done, the less chance you had of falling over. So Scoria took a deep breath... and told the following story. He considered spoilering it, but it really wasn't that long. "Several years ago, someone thought it was a good idea to ask me for advice. They were wrong, but I humored the woman. She wanted to know what she should do about her boyfriend leaving for college and studying abroad. I told her to grow up and get on with her life. She slapped me in the face. I shoved her to the floor. Her boyfriend beat me up, then left forever. Then she got rich. She came back to apologize for slapping me and get me to apologize for pushing her. I slapped her. Then I got her thrown out of school for trespassing after graduating. That's why they call me the Ice Bitch. Hundred plus, look at me." Scoria pulled out of the handstand and stood up, the blood falling back out of his face after the handstand. A little red remained due to his complexion and the drinks, but he wanted some pie now. It wasn't like Tobin said it had to be a true story and Scoria may have exaggerated some points, but how much was true and how much was false was his secret. They couldn't fact-check him, right? He really wanted some pie now. Scoria tapped his shoes against the floor as he walked, activating Glacial Freeze as he moved back to his seat. A 10 meter diameter disc of ice formed on the floor, extending its reach quite far as Scoria skated to his seat. He activated it when there was little chance of him falling, and the table itself was fairly solid and anchored anyway, but for some time, anyone else who wanted to do a handstand would have to do so on slippery ice. Good luck with that. Of course, because Scoria was an 'Ice Bitch', he kept casting it. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious where it was coming from anyway. At any rate, he really just wanted to get Elkeid. The moment Elkeid fell on her face and had her pride bruised, Scoria would cease casting the skill. He might fight dirty, but only just a little. He wasn't trying to create an all out skill-spam war here. [tags @dindeen @0x1dea Elkeid Kumori Tobin Ragnarok @stillsomanypeeps]
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Apr 17, 2014 1:08:52 GMT
Shep running off like a little pup between his legs was not unexpected. He was apparently still worked up over the earlier incident, and had already showed signs of lack of control. Ragna, on the other hand, felt the need to make snide comments from the safety of his seat. It reminded Elk of a German phrase she had no hope of pronouncing or writing from memory: Handschuhschneeballwerfer, which was a long winded way of calling someone a coward. She could speak up and be accused of prompting a fight, or remain silent and let him hang himself. Besides, it was hard to stay focused on the boy's animosity when the dwarf was cavorting about and singing Y.M.C.A. Elkeid almost choked on her drink at the scene, and had to cover her mouth to suppress a soft chuckle. Of all songs he could have chosen, he decided to go with that one.
Elkeid, still using Ox's lap as a footrest, set her drink down and turned away from the table, her trembling shoulders betraying her soft laughter. The dwarf had succeeded in doing something that many had failed to do. Caerbannog's sudden outburst wasn't helping matters, either. Was she such a lightweight that she was drunk already, or was her love of lemons truly that strong?
The Monk kept her mouth covered when she turned around, to hide the rather dopey looking grin that accompanied laughing fits. At least the humorous antics were over with, even if seeing Kumori do a keg stand was silly. She would have thought a guy like him would have refused to engage in Frat boy behavior, but there he was - chugging away without a temper tantrum. Scoria didn't throw one either, but that was a given. He was as vocal as Elk was chatty. She squinted at the Druid, now wondering if she should have made him and Kumori change positions, but it was far too late for that now.
As Elkeid's turn of king ended, the drawing of straws returned, minus her participation. Scoria and Ragnarok seemed like the two worse choices, with the latter being the least favorable. Elkeid nibbled on a hard piece of ice as she watched as each player examined their sticks, and let out a soft sigh of relief as Tobin, the dwarf, was chosen as King. Despite the dwarf's ascension, Caer turned to Elk with a request of another lemon wedge, which the Monk in turn requested from a lingering waiter, finishing up just in time for Tobin's impromptu speech.
'...I don't think we needed to hear about his shortcomings.' That was definitely too much information. The intensity with which Elk had squinted at Scoria was nothing in comparison to the way she was squinting at Tobin's drink mixtures. This was not good - for the lightweights and non-brewers. The kicker was that they would have to down the suspicious liquid, pardon, Jagerbombs if they failed to perform the handstand while telling a short story. Elk could do a handstand in her sleep, thanks to years of yoga. The hard part was the actual speaking bit. Public speaking was a load of bollocks, and she had no idea what she could possibly say about herself in forty words.
Scoria went first, telling a tale she couldn't tell was real or fictional, but knowing Scoria… She fixed her squint on him, and continued to do so as she swung her legs off Ox's lap, onto the ice -. Elkeid's brow furrowed in confusion as her foot slid across the suddenly slippery floor. What the neep was this? Did Shep leave behind a parting gift or - no. Shamans couldn't summon ice, right? Scoria was obviously the culprit, even if she couldn't back that claim up. When in doubt, blame Scoria - or the "Ice Bitch". 'You little shit.'
She was going to bop him right over the head - or would have, if she had realized the ice extended further than previously assumed. Elkeid gave a soft yelp of surprise as one foot went backwards and the other forward, pulling her into an unwanted split. She was capable if doing these as well, but only after a few warm ups. Performing a split unprepared could be quite painful.
Elk reached out to grab Oxford by the shoulder, now remembering why she hated ice skating. Falling on ice sucked, especially in her get up. '...Strangle him.' She was afraid to move, and felt very much like a cat on an unstable raft. Just the mere act of shifting the weight on one foot made that leg move further back. Staying in place had a similar effect. Today was a horrible one for heels, as Elk demonstrated by skidding her feet across the floor. Eventually she ended with her arms around Ox's torso, her reddening face buried in his chest. One knee had settled firmly against the freezing cold floor, and was partially to blame for the slight quivering of her body.
There was no way she could do the handstand, not without falling on her ass or face. "Ungh." Even if she could do the handstand without worry, Elk was now too flustered to even think of a story, and would rather not have all eyes on her again. "Excuse me…" She risked losing her balance to reach up and grab Ox by one shoulder, and managed to lift one leg and swing herself onto Oxford's lap. Once she was safely off the ground, Elk had to wonder which was worse - a painful slip onto ice, or clinging to Oxford like a helpless kitten. That Bitch was going to pay for this later.
Elkeid, either too upset or embarrassed to speak, lifted one trembling hand to point at a waiter, then to two of the glasses Tobin had filled. The waiter was unhappy navigating the icy floor, but somehow retrieved the glasses with little trouble. She downed one glass after another, wincing at the jolt from the amount of caffeine in the drinks. Detox couldn't save her from restless leg syndrome, but holding tighter to Ox seemed to help. [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:1022Muse: neep YouNotes:ᕦ(ಠ皿ಠ)ᕤTags:@dindeen, Kumori, @0x1dea, Ragnarok, Scoria & Tobin
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Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2014 4:11:36 GMT
Status: The Elk's Lodge is Ox's Lap
The flurry of activity whirled around Oxford, like a carousel designed to break the sound barrier so you can't hear yourself scream in confusion.
The first ride on the memory carousel was when Elkeid had the obscenely good luck to become the first King. He was surprised to learn that all he had to do was act as a footstool to Her Majesty, which was fine by him. Now he could finish his dinner. He grabbed a couple of the wings, a piece of lettuce stuck to one of them.
(How'd that get there?)
Shrugging, he popped it in his mouth, the crisp leaf crunching pleasantly, like it was the potato chip of vegetarians.
"Ooo, I wonder if there's some here..."
He scanned the table with the meat-picked bone of the wing dangling in his mouth, not really paying attention to the other decrees since he managed to get out of it pretty easily. But then, the dwarf (Tobin, if I read the description right) suddenly jumped onto the table, trying to get the Wolfman and the younger adventurer to sing a popular late-1970's song based around the building of a well-known welfare movement.
(Hmm, I'll call the younger guy 'Skippy' until I know his actual name. I thought he said it was 'Ragna' or something, but meh.)
At this, the Guardian spat the bone onto his plate as he laughed heartily at the dwarf's antics, immediately forgetting that the shortest of them all came uninvited.
(I don't care what anyone says. If you want a good get-together, grab a dwarf.)
The thought was hammered even further when Tobin semi-drunkenly jumped to his chair, only to fall to the ground. He pounded the table with his open palm as he threw his head back in laughter, trying not to let it out so loud in case Elk decided to pop him in the mouth with her feet.
Apparently, the Wolfman didn't seem to enjoy being a part of the festivities, which didn't bother him too much. He almost felt the air lighten, but was felt a pang of sadness that the evening's fun managed to run someone off.
He drowned that sorrow in the hot sauce that glazed the next wing he began munching on, watching the others perform the acts they were consigned to by Ojosama (or 'My Lady' for the uncultured ones out there).
Despite never having a drop of alcohol (before having some of Elk's, ahem, 'lemonade'), he couldn't help but eye the shots that Scoria was ordered to drink.
"I keep trying to tell everyone, hot sauce goes great with anything."
To prove his point, he grabbed a bottle of the stuff and poured it on the fried potato slices, gobbling them up like a fat little kid with Halloween candy (who didn't even check it for razor blades and other foreign objects, the pig).
The assassin, Kumori was drinking from a keg with a straw, and Caer was making out hardcore with a lemon wedge. It must not have been a good kisser, because she turned to Elk to ask/yell for another one. Oxford was impressed with the long-haired assassin's ability to hold down the liquor.
(Good lord, man. You're gonna end up back at the Cathedral with your liver wanting to strangle you.)
Skippy was assigned to hug the Wolfman, but seeing as how he had already left, Skippy glaring at Elk, his arms crossed to show his discontent.
(Maybe he's hugging himself...)
It suddenly dawned on him that Elk had given the Three Musketeers (actually, Dynamic Duo would work better in this case) the worst orders, leaving her three..."favorites" the lesser of the evils.
Now it was time for the second draw, Oxford exhaling a sigh of relief when he learned that Elk wouldn't have a chance to be King in this round.
Also, she must not have known that she wasn't the King anymore, because her somewhat comfortable feet remained in his lap. He readjusted his legs so she couldn't hit anything of value to the Guardian.
It was now Tobin's turn, and he looked forward to what sort of antics his rule would bring. His smile fell when he learned that it consisted of acrobatics and telling uninteresting stories about yourself, hoping for something a little more, I don't know, unexpected.
He sulked a little in his chair, not being too keen on the idea of having to humiliate one's self while performing public speaking.
"Whoopee..."
He stared blankly ahead as Scoria performed the King's request, counting the words of his story to absent-mindedly make sure that he met the requirements. He lost count after forty, not really caring too much about the rest.
He gnawed on another wing bone, sitting up a little straighter when he realized Elk had finally removed her feet from his lap. He did a little mental cheer, knowing that if he did it out loud, Elk would place her feet right back on his lap, this time with a meteor impact landing directed primarily at the man berries.
He desperately tried to contain his laughter, clamping his hand over his mouth as he watched Elk try to manipulate the suddenly icy floor. He looked over at the now seated Scoria, his foot tapping to replinish the shivering sheen whenever it began to fade. Then something happened that made Oxford forget about the laughing and the imminent death that would occur as a result of laughing.
Elkeid was hugging Oxford.
A small blush began to rise in his cheeks, the Guardian not being used to physical contact with women (and a well-endowed one, at that). In what dimension would this woman do something vaguely nice to Oxford?
He pinched himself to make sure that it wasn't a dream when the Monk had now jumped into his lap. Nope, it's real. But then again, this was a King's Game. Anything could happen. Shrugging, Oxford just took the moment in stride, reclaiming his chill demeanor from before.
"Well, now. It looks like the ice has brought me a queen."
The line would probably earn a slap/punch from Elkeid, but whatever. The King's orders are absolute.
He reached over and downed the two drinks with ease, not really noticing anything except that they were sweet and caffienated. The effects would hit the alcohol newbie later.
If this were the real world, he would've requested another drink, since he wasn't an alcohol aficionado like most (he didn't want to become dependent on the stuff like others). But this wasn't the real world: life was now a game, a game were you respawn if you die. So if he were to respawn back in the Cathedral, so be it.
He shot a questioning glance at Scoria, wondering if he had this whole setup planned out from the start. He then turned his gaze back to the King Dwarf, waving his empty glass in the air.
"I pass. I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment." |
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Nine.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Tailor
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Kumori on Apr 19, 2014 1:22:59 GMT
| Kumori HP: 100% MP: 100% | "In order to live, I will continue to fight. In order to retain my humanity, I will continue to destroy those who mean to harm my friends." |
| Skills: | Quick Slot:
- Windsor Antiqua Throwing Knives |
That keg was awful. It was the worst beer he’d had. Piss water. It was like Bud Light and Coors Light came together and made a terrible fusion of bad. There wasn’t even alcohol in there. The 3% alcohol by volume was sad. All it gave him was a full bladder. After he finished the keg, he decided not to break the seal. He could hold more, he knew he could. But, the next part was him needing to do acrobatics. So while Scoria went to do his turn on his hands, Ryuu went and excused himself to go to the bathroom and unloaded. If he didn’t do it now, he’d probably make a fool of himself later. As he finished unloading, wiggled a bit, tapped a bit, and then pulled up his pants and tied the belt to keep it up. He then went back outside only to see Elkeid all over Oxford. He wondered if Elkeid was that drunk, or if something had happened. As he stepped closer towards where they were supposed to perform the handstand, he slid towards the location, almost crashing into chairs and tables. Did oxford just call Elkeid a queen? Did he just…? What? If there wasn’t a fourth wall, Ryuu would’ve pointed at Elkeid and thrown up questions like “Queen?! What are you smoking?! Unfortunately, lulz cannot continue because of the fourth wall that was in place.
Instead, Ryuu was confused by it. Instead of attempting to do the story, Oxford had decided to down two drinks pretty quickly. Well easy enough for him, he didn’t have to drink a keg of piss water. Ryuu turned to face the dwarf and knelt down as if he was a knight for the king. His right arm was parallel to his chest. “Hopefully my story will entertain His Majesty,” he said. He had found a solid piece of ice that was quite dry. So long as there was no water, and he firmly planted his hands on the ground, he’d be able to do a hand stand. The ice would melt slightly, and stick to the Assassin’s hand as he planted them. He was more concerned about how he was going to remove his hand. His hands were still wet from washing his hands in the bathroom, which made it even more likely to freeze upon contact. “Here goes nothing,” he said. He turned upside down, the alcohol so weak that he hadn’t been able to get a buzz at all from it. He pushed off of his legs and then he held himself up with both of his hands.
“When I was in school, I studied business.. well it’s sort of a surprise right? A businessman not wanting to play the businessman in Elder Tales. Well, it’s probably because it was my life, and I while I loved my job, I do like a little flavor and spice in my life. I love to try new things and love to hang out and stuff. I got into this game because it was somewhat of an escape from a mundane life. After living this life, it’s actually a bit nice, not having as many responsibilities as you had in the real world. I gotta say, I don’t mind if we stay here forever, but, it would still be nice to see the family once in a while,” he said, finishing his 40 or more word story.He dropped down and then attempted to lift his right hand, but it was stuck. “Aww man,”
He pushed and he pulled, finally deciding to just man up and stand up. He did so and OUCH did that hurt. Well, sorta. He was able to remove his hand from the ice without any lasting pain, and there he was, waiting for the next person to do their thingy. He didn’t have to drink this time, which saved him for another round, at least.
OOC NOTES: Word Count: 654 words
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Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Chef
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Ragnarok on Apr 23, 2014 8:27:57 GMT
Moment of truth, there ain't truce. The story of Mass Destruction.
Ragnarok reached out for his glass of water, taking a sip out of the delectable lemon-tinted water. Soon enough, he'd probably have to go use the restroom after all this intake. With an arrogant smile on his face, he kept drinking from his glass, knowing that all he had to do now was wait until the next round began. Until then, Ragnarok watched the remaining members perform their tasks given to them by the current King Elkeid or to be exact, Queen Elkeid.
Caer's task was the one that interested him the most. She was to suck on a lemon wedge that had been violated by the taint of vodka, and much to his own surprise, Caer obliged willingly, sucking on the wedge as if she was a baby, sucking on its mother's nipple for food. He discarded the situation from his vision and thoughts as he looked for another victim, this time Kumori. He was another of a strange task, drinking from a keg, perhaps one filled with disgusting wine, vodka, and beer mixed together to form some repulsive concoction as evident from the swift-to-run Assassin's face.
"Oh how disgusting. I would never accept to do such an action as that. I wouldn't even dare touch wine or beer or vodka. Well, sucks to be Kumori then."
Ragnarok took another sip of his clear water as the next turn of the King's Game began. The entire group drew each their own stick with them soon finding out that the new personality of the dwarf, Tobin, revealed itself. It was as if power changed his entire look on the situation, giving him the ability to control his servants as if they were his dogs, yet, Ragnarok wasn't worried about Tobin's kingship; he was a kind person at the start, so he couldn't have changed. Well, much to the Assassin's own disdain, the King announced his own task to be followed by all the members of their little game.
“The king’s decree is simple; you simply tell me a story of yourself using no less than 40 words. You don’t tell, you drink... The twist is that you have to tell me while giving a handstand like my granddad. You do one thing, you drink once. You fail both, you drink both. I’ll tell you the result after everyone’s had a go.”
The consequences were too much for Ragnarok's own tastes. For him, anything that had to do with alcohol was completely off-limits, so the only choice for him was to perform a handstand. The only problem with this scenario was that he had never successfully performed a handstand in his life before, so doing this would require him to be extremely lucky or find a "loophole" in the situation. He sighed calmly, downing the rest of his water as he thought of a plan.
"Okay...Tobin wants us to tell him a story with greater or equal to forty words. It shouldn't be too hard; it doesn't have to be real, so it'll be easy. I can easily just come up with a lie or take something out of my own life and just twist the parts of the story to entertain the masses. Alright, that's the plan. Now, I just have to wait it out."
As he formulated the plan in his mind, he watched the rest of the members start their story or drink their...jagerbombs... Just the sound of the drink was horrible; nonetheless, Ragnarok pushed the thoughts of the abominable tainted water out of his head to enjoy the stories of the servants. Scoria was up first, and his story was befitting of his own personality. The younger Assassin chuckled under his breath, knowing that Scoria would always be a jerk with arrogance to no extent; however, his enjoyment was soon ended when he found that the floor had been frozen with solid ice. Ragnarok's attention soon brought him to the villainous Scoria who had taken his seat once more. He muttered under his breath knowing that this only made the task even harder than it was.
"Damn you Scoria...You'll pay for this..."
Hopefully, no one heard him or saw his quick glare at the scum that sat before the group. Now, all Ragnarok could do was try and find some way to cheap the situation out, more so than Scoria had done. For now though, the boy had time as there were only four members left to perform their task: Elkeid, Oxford, Kumori, and Caer; however, without any warning, Elkeid had taken her chance at the handstand on ice, but failed the duty. Her only option to regain her complexion was to take Oxford as a stand. The moment was pure hilarity to Ragnarok's inner mind, but he stayed silently the entire moment, calmly smiling at the two. Soon enough, a waiter came by, disposing of the twin accursed jagerbombs meant for Elkeid. She drank forcefully, but with much disgust, and to Ragnarok's surprise, Oxford downed them with ease, ready to hold his supposed Queen.
"Seriously...I'm up against this competition...Geez Oxford, how much more can you take before you fall? Well, I just have to hope I don't make a fool out of myself when I take my chance."
Before Ragnarok could take his stand to the front of the group, Kumori reacted first, having returned to the game after a quick relieving at the lavatory. The older Assassin was able to find a piece of ice that had been frozen solid, steady as common earth. He started his handstand and began telling his own story, one that told of his own life. At least through this, Ragnarok was able to learn more about Kumori's life, and could maybe even create better relations with him. Before long, the word count for the story was finished and Kumori was to take his seat once more; however, his problem was getting his right hand off of the cold ice. With a sudden movement of the wrist and hand and a painful yell, Kumori ripped his hand from the ice and removed his appearance from the scene. Now, the only one was Ragnarok and Caer.
"Shoot...Okay okay. Come up with a story quickly and a plan. You've already procrastinated too long, so come on Ragna!"
The Assassin pondered the situation as he stood up and walked awkwardly towards the supposed stage of the group; however, an idea popped in his head. The goal was to just perform a handstand(like Tobin's grandfather); however, there was nothing stopping him from "cheating". Ragnarok quickly looked around the interior of the building until his eyes came to several chairs in a corner, ready to set up at any table. He calmly made his way there as the challenge was to only perform a handstand and tell a story; there was no way in any hell that he was going to drink any kind of alcohol. Once there, the boy placed one of the chairs down on its back and stacked the rest together until it made a perfect supportable handstand. He moved his hands to the back of the chair, using its head for support, while placing his feet on top of the chairs for full support. He may have cheated the rules, but he was able to do a handstand, and thus, his own story began.
"So, I guess I have to create a story now, don't I? Well, here we go. There once was a boy who had been grown up with two older brothers and both of them were smart to no end. Both of their parents loved them, and as for the newborn son, his life wasn't going to be as easy as them, for he had been born in this new age of technology. Video games kept him from his schoolwork, and eventually, his grades continued to fall and fall until soon enough, his parents were ready enough to disown him. The whole scenario continued straight up until his senior year of high school, and he realized that there was no way that he was going to get into a good university. His parents would disown him, cast him off as a total failure, so guess what his only choice was? He ran. He ran as far away from home as he could until he could no longer see them. He found a new home for himself, living life as a homeless man, no job, no family, not anyone to care for him. This boy was alone for the rest of his life, until he finally died of starvation and the cold."
Ragnarok calmly stood up after the story he told for the group. It may have just been a lie, but it was how he felt somewhere deep in his heart that would happen to him if he continued his life the way he did in the real world. He sighed a sorrow note and carefully replaced the chairs in their correct positions before taking his seat once more. He luckily didn't have to drink the so-called "jagerbombs" that were set at the center of the table for him, but the depressing story might have also brought some kind of tension to the group. He sighed calmly, and looked at them to explain the story.
"Well, it was just a story. You shouldn't be sad or anything about it, but morals for the future. Just keep that in mind."
WC: 1583
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Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2014 9:42:27 GMT
Caerbannog would have listened to all their little stories and stuff but there was a slight buzzing sound in her head. She wondered if the second lemon wedge would make it go away- probably. So hey, she suckled on that second wedge while the straws were being passed around and inevitably anointed the new king, Tobin. What sort of funny, exciting, hilarious things lay await with that destined draw?
Now, Tobin was a dwarf. If anyone wanted a laugh, they would not have to look further; they just had to look at him. However, his order as King was a most somber, almost sober, one. The handstand was probably the only funny thing about it. She was not looking forward to Kumori’s story. He had a penchant for being boring. Not that Caer cared at that point though. She just wanted to get wasted.
Scoria said something something and then was finished with his stuff. Suddenly, ice. Elkeid got punk’d by that ice and Oxford seemed to enjoy it so hey, they both drank Tobin’s drinks straight up. Then Kumori told a story and Caerbannog almost fell asleep. Last to go was Ragna. Wall of text. Skipping.
Point was, two drinks were gone - Elkeid’s and Oxford’s; four drinks were free for the taking. Once it was the samurai’s turn to tell her story, she reached over to the shot glass and drank it straight up. No questions asked. She then looked at Tobin. Funny dwarf. Well that was done... the samurai passed the straws around again, except to Tobin. Elkeid was back in the game once more but as soon as they compared their draws, Ragna’s would obviously be the longest.
As for Caerbannog, she didn't give a neep. The girl climbed on the table and proceeded to down all the remaining jagerbombs. Word.
OOC Notes: Tobin is excluded from draws in this round. Elkeid was included again. No-reroll draw result [ link]. The new King will post first. Word Count: 305 Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Kumori Scoria Ragnarok Elkeid Tobin
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Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Chef
Tracker
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Post by Ragnarok on Apr 27, 2014 23:23:30 GMT
The innocent man turns into the guilty king.
Tobin's reign of King was finally over. Caer had decided to drink rather than tell a tale on her hands, but it didn't matter to the young Assassin. He was happy that he didn't have to work whatever the vile jagerbombs were made out of down his throat. Soon enough, the next round of the King's Game began, each player choosing their own straw with the dwarf being the one left out. Hopefully, Elkeid wouldn't have been chosen twice or else this would've been hell for them all once more; however, much to his surprise, the straw that he drew was the longest out of everyone else. In that small moment, he knew that he was going to make his segment as King the most fun it was for everyone, especially the enjoyment he was going to get as the King.
Ragnarok placed his straw down onto the table as he pondered on what task to give to everyone. One by one, he selected the punishments for each one. Elkeid was to receive the worst, then Scoria, and the rest were to be given less extreme tasks. The plan was being set into motion faster than the rest could see it on his face, and moments after the straw's position was decided, he made the preparations.
He called out to one of the waiters, to be exact, the same one that Elkeid had abused. With a puzzled look on his face, the waiter removed himself from the scene and came back after a minute with several others, carrying at least two hundred glasses of menu-created wine(with its authentic taste of dishwater or even worse, urine, which was specifically made for a certain somebody), ten barrels of milk, and a large bottle of oil. After Caer had removed herself from the table, the waiters cleaned it, placing the glasses of wine and wine on the table, having to use at several more tables to fit the rest. The ten barrels were placed by Scoria's side, and the large bottle of oil was handed to Ragnarok himself, he passed it, generously, to Kumori with a grin on his villainous face. The waiters soon left, leaving the group with the additional tools for the game.
"Alright then. You must be wondering why I have these ten barrels, two hundred glasses of fine wine, and this large bottle of oil. Simple, it is for the tasks that each of you will proceed to perform. I'll start with Caer, and then go to Kumori, followed by Oxford, Tobin, Scoria and Elkeid.
Caer is to simply harass Kumori, more physically than anything, while Kumori is to apply the oil to Oxford's body with his own hands, but for this to happen, Oxford needs to be stripped of his clothing.
Oxford's task is to strip his entire top off, leaving only his pants on and perform poses before me of the Bizarre kind. And please make sure the entire bottle is emptied on Oxford, I don't want to see a single drop left in there after the task is done.
Now, Tobin's duty is to play me a song. Now, not just any king of song. He is to play a song using Elkeid's legs as the guitar. Excellent isn't it? Now, the last two members of our little party, Scoria and Elkeid.
Scoria, in those ten barrels you will find them filled with delicious milk. Now, don't you enjoy milk? I do, but that's besides the point. Your task lies in those barrels. It's simple really. Dunk your head into one of those barrels to start, and start chugging away, drinking to your hearts content; however, if you stop for a breather, you must drink another barrel. One by one, you must finish them all if you fail. As a starting number, you are to finish...let's say three of them. Yeah, three seems reasonable.
Now, the very last task of the king is given to Elkeid. As you see before us, there are at least...two hundred glasses of fine wine. You are to drink each one of them, until Scoria finishes his task. If he continues to fail, then you are to continue drinking, and I'll have the waiters prepare more until he's done if that's how this is goes. Now, remember, no breaks. I expect you to take a drink every three seconds.
That's all the tasks that I have to give to you. Let's hope that you can all abide by these terms, and we'll all be fine. Now, please commence the task given to you by the king."
Ragnarok chuckled as he sat back in his seat, placing his right left over his left and his right arm on the seat of his table, where his head could lay on his own fist. In short, he attained a kingly pose, watching his servants perform their deeds before his watchful eye. The guilty king simply watched, enjoying the festivities set before the rest.
WC: 837
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Post by Deleted on Apr 28, 2014 0:16:39 GMT
No one tells drunk Caerbannog what to do.
They wanted her off the table? Hell no. The samurai sprawled herself all over the tabletop as awkwardly as she could. Fortunately, or unfortunately, for all the people around her, she was wearing a yukata and shorts so the thread remained PG-13. After the straws were drawn, she swore that Ragna had an evil smile or something. Or maybe that was the alcohol.
“ Ehhhhhh... “ the samurai sat up as the waiters cleaned the table around her with much difficulty since she swatted at their hands every now and then.
The girl complained when she heard the command from the King, but not because of the order itself rather, she wanted another drink.
“ No one tells me- wait... okay, “ Caerbannog was about to complain but she wasn't a killjoy. Even in her drunken state, she remembered that it was all a game. The wolf-hair could only hope that- WINE!
Caerbannog rolled off the table. Yes, literally, she rolled right off and probably swiped something along the way. The wine which was meant for Elkeid looked awesome and so she drank one. And another. And another. She was already wasted due to the jagerbombs so the horrible taste of the piss-wine did not hit her until... uh well, until it did.
“ Eugh! “ the girl grimaced as she drank her fifth glass, “ No more... “
She then walked over to Kumori and considered headbutting him as per the King’s order, but she was still coherent enough to remember that a Guard System existed. We wouldn't want guards crashing the party now, would we? And so the diminutive wolf-hair did the only other thing that ever made the assassin seem uncomfortable. Caerbannog pushed Kumori down onto his place until he was seated properly with his back against the chair. She then patted down her yukata and shorts, turned away from him and sat squarely down on his lap. She made sure to sit as far up on his lap as she could with her back against his chest and her head against his chin. Due to her stature, the girl’s legs could not reach the ground and she did her very best to harass oniichan some more by swaying her legs. That would probably leave the siscon assassin unable to fulfill his order but that wasn't Caerbannog’s problem. Perhaps the guardian could be nice enough to walk over to the harassed Kumori instead?
“ I get more drinks if I do this? “ the samurai asked no one in particular.
OOC Notes: After this round, I will send a message to the new King and they can post first. Word Count: 425 Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Kumori Scoria Ragnarok Elkeid Tobin
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If you think yourself the hero, then beware the villains.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Courtesan
Guild:
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Post by Scoria on Apr 28, 2014 2:02:37 GMT
Scoria would get to the slaughter of Ragna later. Unlike many of the other individuals who appeared to be completely wasted off their respective asses, Scoria was doing his best not to get stone-cold drunk. He was also trying hard not to look somewhat amused at Elkeid's antics on the ice, a fact that could be noted only by the softening of his glare. His mouth didn't shift from the straight deadpan line that it had been, even when the roughhousing monk took refuge on Oxford's lap. Almost as if to say he had planned it (he hadn't, of course) and mostly just to piss Elkeid off further, Scoria moved his hand up and fwipped his thumb upwards in a thumbs-up to Ox. Yeah. That was incriminating enough. Just to make sure that both Oxford and Elkeid saw it, he kept the thumbs up around for a full three seconds before pulling his hand back and returning to sipping his drink and eating salad. Oxford's line was not unnoticed and Scoria paused a moment to make sure he didn't choke on his drink. That guardian really did want to get punched, huh? Kumori told his story, which was about as boring as Scoria had expected. Blahblahblah I'm a businessman blahblah I lead people blahblah I'm really boring and uptight. Did that sound about right? It did to Scoria. And then came Ragna. Oh Ragna. Wasn't it clear that when you pick fights, you should do it with someone your own size? Not a table full of people who would throw you into a river and tie concrete to your legs? Unlike Scoria or even Oxford (and maybe Kumori, Scoria admitted begrudgingly), who kept their emotions at least relatively in check, Ragna seemed to teeter more along the side of Caer. Which was to say, he was very obvious. And unlike Caer, he wasn't a nice person, even by Scoria's standards. Arrogance leaked from the assassin's very pores, the repulsion over alcohol equally evident by the way he looked at Kumori. How old were you actually, kid? Five?And of course, he cheated. Of course he cheated. Why wouldn't an honorable individual who clearly detested alcohol and acted snobbish and all paladin-like cheat? RIGHT. All those reasons Scoria had just thought of. The druid quietly sipped his drink and kept the bite out of his words, but the fire in his eyes spoke volumes every time it turned to Ragna. It was hard to miss someone glaring right at you when they had been keeping a stick up their- MORALS. WHAT. Oh god Scoria was going to punch him in the face. Guards, don't stop me now. Unfortunately for all involved, Scoria was not quite drunk yet. He had, after all, only taken a few alcoholic drinks, so he simply squeezed his glass a little tighter than normal and drew a straw. In comparison to Ragna, Scoria was starting to feel Elkeid might have been the better of two evils. He was proven right. The druid was beyond the point of paying more than some marginal attention to Caer, only keeping his glass away from her antics when the straws were pulled. Lovely. Lovely. Soooooo good. He just waited and watched as the king hoisted himself up to the gallows. While the task for Caer was one of relative fun and even Oxford and Kumori's were... acceptable, Elkeid's task was clearly meant to humiliate the monk. Scoria had thrown her onto an ice field moments before, but he hadn't forced her to wreck herself and he hadn't forced her to allow herself to be manhandled. "For someone who hates alcohol so much, you sure are drunk." Scoria's teeth ground against each other as he let that harsh sentence escape, muttering it under his breath so perhaps only those who sat right next to him would be able to hear. In this case, that was Elkeid, Oxford, Caer, and Kumori. Shepard had left and let the other side of the table get a little empty and Elkeid was sitting on top of Oxford, so only the people furthest from Scoria would have real difficulties hearing. Tobin and Ragna. Then came the lovely request for Scoria. So lovely. Unlike Caer, Scoria was a killjoy. He was a complete and total killjoy and he knew an impossible request when he saw it. It was a barrel. A barrel. Telling someone to finish that without any breaks was close to impossible with no breaths in between, and even if Scoria were to manipulate the definition of breather, that was a lot of drink. Even if it was just water, that much could cause someone to drown in the water they had drank. The concentration of water in their body would go up to the point that they would simply be unable to breath and die. But Scoria could cheat, because he knew how to cheat. If Ragna wanted to avoid playing fair, then Scoria would just carefully drink those 10 barrels slowly. Better than forcing himself to chug what was clearly more than a gallon or two gallons or maybe five gallons. Ragna wasn't giving orders for fun anymore. When Elkeid's order came to rest on Scoria's ears, however, the man's crimson orbs saw blood red. No one took a hostage to blackmail Scoria.The red in the druid's eyes locked onto Ragna, burning with actual hate. In just six small sentences, Ragna had gone from being an irritating twit to being at the very, very top of Scoria's "worst people I know" list. Elkeid had taken a comfortable spot on there some time back, but she was ousted by entries such as, "Ragna's liver", "Ragna's spinal cord", "Ragna's eyeballs", "Ragna's vocal chords", and of course, at the very top of the list, "Ragnarok". Good for him. It was a real achievement doing that. "Small, slow sips." The message was directed towards Elkeid as Scoria scowled, then sighed and let his face relax into its regular glaring expression. Almost as if he hadn't looked like he wanted to murder Ragna a moment ago. Almost. Then, with a small breath, Scoria knelt by a barrel and sat himself down, dunking his head into the milk. The tactic was as follows. He had to get enough of the milk out of the barrel and into his stomach so that he could tilt the barrel towards him and create breathing room for his nose. It wasn't like Ragna was going to be staring at him, and the definition of a breather could be something along the lines of "taking a break and stopping the drinking". As long as Scoria did not pull his head out of the barrel itself, he could blink the milk away and tilt his head upwards so he was simply drinking, chugging the barrel and breathing through his nose as he let the milk fill his mouth. It wasn't a quick process, and even the world's fastest drinker would take some time to finish a gallon, but Scoria worked on it. He completely ignored everyone's shenanigans, lifting the barrel up the closer he got to finished. In perhaps record time in the world of Elder Tale, Scoria had finished one gallon. He was starting to feel pretty queasy, but one glance up at the 'hostage' had him put the barrel to the side and take a small moment to breath. No breathes during barrels, but in between them, he could take whatever time he needed. Those were the rules and Scoria was going to skin Ragna alive if the player had complaints about the interpretation. Pulling the lid off the second barrel, Scoria quietly prayed to whatever stomach gods there were and worked on finishing off the next one. It took him about five minutes and it was starting to get very clear that Scoria's stomach wasn't going to be able to handle much more. He looked green when his face came up from the barrel and his stomach was expanded out, like those people who ate too much on Thanksgiving. Two down. Two down. The druid cursed under his breath and took another moment or two. A bit more. A bit more and he was done. The druid felt sick, but he pulled off the third lid and got to it. It was easy going when he powered his way into being able to breath again, but the problem wasn't breathing. The problem was taking in more than his body could handle. About halfway through the keg, Scoria felt the telltale rumbling of food trying to force its way back up. Not happening. Not happening at all. He just had to finish. A quarter left, an eight, a sixteenth. Scoria lifted the last of the barrel up and drained it, slamming it down next to him. "Elkeid, stop."And with that said, Scoria wiped the drink off his mouth with his sleeve, glared at Ragna for good measure, and turned right around for the bathroom. His steps were carefully measured, one after another after another, until he got to the door and slammed it behind him, locking it securely. No one got inside. He only barely made it to the toilet before vomiting up the better portion of about three barrels of milk. He felt like he was dying and getting all this shit out of his system was the only thing that was going to help. That disrespect for food. That disrespect for having a good time. If Elkeid had been a king, then Ragna was a mass-murdering genocidal tyrant. About five minutes of heaving and cleaning up later and a quiet trip to the kitchen to softly apologize to the head chef, Scoria headed back to the table. He looked exhausted and his hair dripped from all the water he had splashed on it, but that was that. The man took his place back where he had originally sat and took a moment to steady himself before sitting down. The glare was permanent, but he looked completely exhausted. For once, he was hoping beyond hope that the next 'king' was someone who wouldn't abuse him nearly so much. Caer or Oxford would be good. Hell, he figured that since Ragna couldn't play again and Shepard had left, anyone was good. Kumori was too 'moral' a dude to exact some sort of revenge. Thanks to his trip to the bathroom, he had no clue what anyone else had done.
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Apr 28, 2014 15:03:16 GMT
In lieu of her scarf, Elkeid had managed to cover the lower half of her reddening face with the fluffy white collar of Anarchy Belt. How long would it take for the ice to melt…? She wanted to move back to her seat, but she also did not want to deal with the slippery ice. Her current position was highly inappropriate, and every second that passed by exacerbated it more and more. For one, her jacket had mostly found itself bunched up in the small of her back, the long end left to trail off to the side and dangle to the ground. That meant that there was no extra (albeit thin) layer to separate her from Oxford. And when one was wearing hot-pants...no. That was not good at all. She had to force herself to keep her leg from twitching as well, just so that no unwanted friction was caused.
Things would have gone better without Oxford's comment about the ice bringing him a "queen," and that painfully long thumbs up from Scoria to Ox. Elkeid, who had done her best to remain still up until now, turned her head to give Scoria a better look at the rage roaring within her eyes, and then tilted her head back a bit to share the love with Oxford. They planned this. The two of them were fortunate that they were in a safe zone, otherwise Elk would have headbutted Ox and nudged Caer aside to kick Scoria in the face. There were other ways to make them pay without drawing the attention of the guards, though. So while Kumori struggled with the patch of ice and rambled on, Elkeid focused on passively aggressively harassing Oxford.
She lifted one leg and braced her knee against the side of the table, and after looping her other foot around Ox's ankle to help anchor it to the frozen floor, she forced her body up an inch and then shoved back against the table. The distance wasn't too great, but the force was enough for her to re-land roughly onto Oxford's lap. She may have dug her shoulders firmly into his chest as well. Whatever. Even mild discomfort on his part was victory enough for her.
With Kumori finished with his story, it was time for Ragnarok to perform the handstand and tell his story - not that Elk cared enough to pay attention. She was too busy playing "footsie" with Oxford and trying to crush any hopes of "tenting" to pay much attention to the boy. That of course changed when the drawing of sticks came up, and said boy was marked as king.
His orders seemed rather harmless at first, as she found the orders for Caer, Kumori and Ox to be somewhat amusing, but the orders for her and Scoria rekindled the fire in her eyes. Forcing Scoria to down several barrels of milk would have been just fine and dandy, had it not affected her as well. This was a cruel twist of fate. What was to keep the man from taking his time with the milk? 'You little shit,' was the only coherent thought she could muster in regards to Ragna.
The ice had vanished by now, which was a good thing for Elk. She disentangled herself from Oxford, who was to be oiled down by another man with another woman in his lap. Caer's antics disrupted the tension in the air for a short while, but could not quell the anger fueling Elkeid. "Be careful where you place those hands, dwarf, or you'll find yourself unable to wipe your own ass." She glared at him next. This wasn't his idea or fault, but… Drinking was one thing - she could handle that. Having a stranger play with her legs was another matter entirely. She lifted her legs a bit into the air, and reached for her first glass of so called "fine" wine.
What was this? Smells like piss. Scoria had said something about taking small, slow sips before dunking his head in a barrel of milk, and she complied. The taste was god-awful, but attempting to chug it would just make her sick and vomit. Was he seriously going to make his way through three of those things? She could barely stomach one glass of this piss poor system wine. 'But if Kumori could do it…' Small sips. That was all she needed to take.
Her first glass was completed after what felt like ages, and her second soon followed. As Scoria went through his barrels, Elk slowly depleted the number of full wine glasses at the table. She paid no attention to the number, preferring to focus on the other "subjects" as they carried out the orders of their Mad King. The quality of the wine was too poor to even strike up an attempt to intoxicate her. It must have been 99% water and only 1% alcohol. "…" She came close to just saying "neep it" and sweeping the glasses onto the floor, when the slamming sound of an empty barrel caught her ears, along with the order from a sickly looking Scoria to stop. Had he really…? A closer look at the barrels near Scoria told her that they were indeed empty. The man then walked off to presumably offer the contents of his stomach to the god of the underworld.
Elkeid would have liked to do the same, but whatever sickness she was feeling was being alleviated by her Detox passive. The urge to rip the smug look off Ragna's face remained, however. It really was a good thing that they had the Royal Guard to worry about. The table would have been dropped onto his silly little head, if not for the killjoy aspects of the game that remained. [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] [newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass] Words:967Muse: Before My Body Is DryNotes:(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻)Tags:@dindeen, Kumori, @0x1dea, Ragnarok, Scoria & Tobin
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Dwarf
Inactive Player
Gold:
Brewer
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Tobin on Apr 28, 2014 22:44:09 GMT
(OOC: By the time I got to the song, I was knackered. Basically make this party awesome. Make it 80’s. There is a bit of friendly prodding, because I want to ramp the difficulty up. Oh, and WALLLLL. I intensive grammer check later. Too much writing)) Word Count: 1954 The dwarf watched his first “servant” with a curious, if somewhat impassive gaze to his story. The tale was interesting though its content was hard to quantify. This was alright, the dwarf had already accounted for the possibility of not entirely truthful stories as often the kind of story used described the kind of character who was giving it, that was enough information for him. Though the antic of turning the floor to ice broad a big broad smile to his face, followed by a booming laugh as he grabbed one of the shots designated for the druid, tipped the small shot glass containing the Jagermeister and downed it in one, shivering briefly as the caffeine hit gave him the desired jolt. “Bahahahah! Very clever, Ice cold man! Now this is really startin’ to look like a real party!”The humour carried on Elk’s and Oxfords turn, the someone herlious scene made up for the lack of story from either of them, though he still dealt a pair of shots to each automatically for not preparing. Kumori’s and Rags life story was straight forward and dry as he expected it to be, though for rags latter part he had chosen to unceremoniously hum a queen song to himself. – He's just a poor boy from a poor family. Spare him his life from this monstrosity- as he rambled on about dying in a ditch. Caer had chosen to down two shots rather than do either to which he chuckled. This left 5 shots on the table “Well anyway, that was pretty entertaining, most of ya have received two, though I have to say you three “ he gestured at Scoria and Kumori with a sly wink. “Missed something, I mean, how many granddads have ya seen doing a handstand?” He paused a moment to let that sink in “Very good handstands mind you, but not exactly what I asked. Ya would have won if ya called rubbish or just shuffled on your hands and knees and called it a handstand. A shot for each of ya for the story, for my kingdom is a communist state, we all be equally screwed. Bahahah!” He chuckled full with a full heart as he slid a single shot to both Kumori, Scoria, Rag all had a shot pushed towards them, which only left two for the beast of Caer. He hadn’t expected so much double shoters on this table as if they had told him anything he would have had to take it at face value, he couldn’t question the integrity of their story, but had followed it up with an misleading request to trip them up. A little misdirection couldn’t hurt too much, especially when it was for the noble quest to be plastered. Though he felt a slight ping of regret for being somewhat lame “I will come up with something a bit more fun next time”He was then more than happy to kick back and observe as jabbed his fork into several potatoes and continued satisfy the endless hunger that was satisfaction, his head tilting to the side as the wolf girl had clambered up onto the table to claim the unclaimed drinks. A frown flickered danced across his features as the next king was picked, a concern that this next event would snuffle out the springtime of youth, or the passionate flame of summer, or the binge in the drink or something poetically sexy. Needless to say, the dwarf could hardly be disappointed with how outrageous his orders were. His face was initially blank as he listened. Cear seemed to get off relatively easy, abuse that guy, while that guy was rubbing oil over that sexy guardian’s body… What? The dwarf blinked, coming to the realisation that this could be the most crazy round thus far, then visibly flinched as he heard his role. -Ah feck, singing again? But playing on her legs…-
For a change the dwarf wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. On one hand, singing was easy and there were worse things to ask then play guitar on the attractive woman’s legs. On the other? Those same legs could probably warp around his head and crush him, he could already feel a glare burning into the side of his skull. The last two requests were even more extreme. “Three barrels of milk… and 200 glasses of wine, seriousleh.” The dwarf commented as he folded his arms behind his head and stared briefly; perhaps it was time to envoke the British spirit and call him out. After all, though the rules existed within the drinking game, there was always room for improvisation and wagering. “ have ya ever drunk before tonight? Or is milk the most intensive drink ya had away from ya mothers tet?” He paused momentarily as he laughed, perhaps leaving a moment of confusion as to whether he was entirely serious. “Let me get this straight, ya want us all to do this without a penality game of some description? Really, we could all sit on our asses and eat and there’s nothing in ya decree to punish us, it’s the spirit of all drinking games to either do something stupid or you drink somethin’ ya shouldn’t.” He shrugged, absentmindedly gathering back the glasses in front of him as he spoke, an light frown addnorned his expression as he seemed largely disinterested in the proceedings . “ No fun without a little something at stake. To be exact, I’m willing to raise ya a bet…” He took back four of the glasses before and proceeded to fill them himself, then, instead of sweet juice, he took a glass of wine and filled each large glass it, then filled each shot glass with jeigermister and preached it on the rim as he pushed the two glasses together. Forming a short train of glasses of level 1 beverages. Needless to say, he might as well lined up several potions of impure poison as the consumer was concerned. “If we all do as ya say, ya drink this, mah own special brand of… Well, I guess the pain train would be appropriate for this. We fail? Well, I might give drinking it a shot.” He paused and winked with a chuckle as he cast, a glance around the room to seek support over this motion, though he laughing though it was probably quite a good reflection of what would happen over the 5 rounds yet to come. “Ya got the royal jewels for this challenge, Rag?”
Either way despite critizium the dwarf was going to embrace the spirit for this challenge. as he made the monumental task of getting up off his arse, presumably as the ice cold drinker was about to start to consume the second barrel. He winched, in comparison his part really wasn’t so bad, aside from the possibility of inevitable death. "Be careful where you place those hands, dwarf, or you'll find yourself unable to wipe your own ass."“I’ll only be doing it as long as needed, least no harmonica impressions. I’m Kiddin’!”The dwarf paused long enough to not get a kick to the face before he strode up to take position behind the woman’s legs no not like that and let his left hand rest on her shins because even the most party going dwarf knows not to touch too high up the thigh on a first date because though confident in his preferences, didn’t want to die yet . He paused dramatically a moment, with a face of stone as hummed a gentle tune, somehow feeling the moment in tune for serious song as he flicked up his menu and pressed few keys bring up some lyrics. Suddenly he tilted his head back as he let rip a distinctive, sexy saxiphone hum, taken straight from that ironic slice of 80’s “careless whispers”, hopefully timing it so that the guardian could have his moment in the fading sunlight as night began to creep in, casting a golden light into the restrent, hopefully giving the noble guardian a chance to shine with captain serious. The hand deftly travelled lightly over the pale skin as he played out his air-guitar, with a light palm and feather fingers, though the monk was unlikely to be taming her legs any time soon it wouldn’t be so entirely unpleasant as to warrant a kick in the eye as he began to sing in a surprisly rich voice. It seemed that drinking threads offered a conditional +50 to barding levels. www.youtube.com/watch?v=izGwDsrQ1eQ“I feel so unsure As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor As the music dies, something in your eyes Calls to mind the silver screen And all its sad good-byes”His eyes glistened a bright blue, amplified by the homoerotic appeal 80’s image of two men cooperating together to provide glistening perfection as he sang into the lifting track, somehow managing to glorify Sociera’s milk drinking with a glistening sheen as the orbs glistened like pearls with a cast back of his rapidly green face. "I'm never gonna dance again Guilty feet have got no rhythm Though it's easy to pretend I know your not a fool.
Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste the chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again, The way I danced with you…”At this point, a friends request pinged on Kumori’s, Elks and Oxford’s status’s in the room as he pressed a few buttons, mastering the essence of swag through the saxophone solo as he presented the requests in the heat of the moment, in addition there was a small message attached. –Pls sing with me. : ) Revenge b soon – and he would continue to sing and continue to “play the guitar”, given the backing support. “Time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend. To the heart and mind Ignorance is kind there’s no comfort in the truth Pain is all you'll find
I'm never gonna dance again Guilty feet have got no rhythm Though it's easy to pretend I know your not a fool
Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste this chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you!!!
Tonight the music seems so loud. I wish that we could lose this crowd. Maybe it's better this way. We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say
We could have been so good together. We could have lived this dance forever. But no one's gonna dance with me. Please stay
And I'm never gonna dance again. Guilty feet have got no rhythm. Though it's easy to pretend. I know your not a fool
Should've known better than to cheat a friend. And waste the chance that I've been given. So I'm never gonna dance again. The way I danced with you
(Now that you're gone) Now that you're gone (Now that you're gone) What I did's so wrong That you had to leave me alone”With that distinct image planted in the readers mind, most of the actions of the party fitted around this glorious sound track. He paused, assuming he hadn’t already been stopped from singing and gave a thumbs up. Most of the scene would be left to create in the minds of the other players , this dwarf was only the instrument of beautiful music and of aerodynamics. “That… was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the drink you will be havin’, Raggie.” The dwarf softly uttered as as he raised both hands and backed away from Elk. If he hadn’t already been kicked, now was a good time.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2014 4:18:42 GMT
HP: 100% MP: 100%
- EQUIPMENT - W.A. Longsword (1H) W.A. Tower Shield W.A. Plate Armor
SKILLS - None Active -
Notes: *flexes* | | Ehhh, what's going on...why do I feel like I love everybody right now...
The alcohol was starting to work slowly into his system, making him feel a little more sluggish and...loose. Like, loose as in 'bad judgement' loose.
As he looked around the room to reaffirm his sense of reality, he saw the Druid flashing an uncomfortable long thumbs-up, to which Oxford replied by giving him unamused stare.
"You bastard, you set me up..."
He didn't know why he was complaining. Having a busty woman sitting on your lap wasn't exactly the most uncomfortable situation to be stuck in. The tight shirt, the hotpants and the hot woman weren't really doing much to keep Oxford's imagination under control. But luckily, Elkeid had found a clever solution to the problem by ramming her shoulders into Oxford's chest, Oxford exhaling somewhat forcefully as the Monk's body forced the oxygen out of his lungs.
As if it wasn't hard enough to breathe already with your gigantic mammaries in my face...
Once the ice vanished, so did the queen, walking over to the drinks, as Oxford stretched his arms, savoring the full range of movement he could get out of them. Rubbing his chest as he took a deep breath of air, the Guardian looked around and surveyed the new layer of carnage that was about to be wrought upon this poor establishment.
This new King had a weird sense of humor. Apparently, Caer was supposed to harass Kumori in some way, and she decided to do so by sitting on his lap (but not before performing drunken breakdancing at the waiters as they came to collect the empty cups and dishes).
Scoria was tasked with the enormous burden of depriving all the cows in the local vicinity of their milk (which had been graciously donated to the Druid in a couple of barrels). And Elk had to play the part of Bacchus and down two-hundred glasses of wine. Judging from it's smell, they may as well have been drawn up from one of the toilets/chamberpots in the restaurant.
Oxford froze when he heard his orders from King Ragna the First (and probably the last). Do sexy/crazy poses in front of people?
Sure, why not.
Strip down to half-nakedness while performing said sexy/crazy poses?
Only if you buy me dinner first.
Getting oiled up by another man?
Whoa, now.
Sure, he was up for being annointed in oil, preferably with a woman. Having another guy rub oil on him was a line he wasn't really willing to cross.
However, this was semi-intoxicated Oxford we're talking about. When the booze hits your brain, you can't feel the pain. Let's listen to the dwarf sing as the alcohol unlocks Oxford's latent stripping powers.
Oh wait, it appears Ox has received a message from the dwarf to join him in a rousing sing-a-long of a song that he barely knew the lyrics to. And his mind was slowly being addled by alcohol. Brilliant.
However, the opportunity provided would a good one for him to gradually slip into his one-piece birthday suit (the other piece being reserved for actual birthdays). As the sultry sounds of a saxophone came from somewhere in the room, Oxford went ahead and took off his Comfy Jacket, tucking it safely away so the oil wouldn't dirty it.
Now for the shirt. The shirt was the thing that kept his bod tucked safely away so that women wouldn't be swarming him whenever he went out in public (or run away screaming). Oxford closed his eyes as the shirt came off, feeling too scared to see what his frequent eating habits may have done to him.
To his surprise, it wasn't that bad. I mean, he actually had signs of muscle on his upper-body. He poked a little bit at his signs of fitness, giving his arms a little flex. He chuckled as he saw the biceps bulge.
Well, whaddya know. Roughing up boars gave me a nice set of pecs.
Remembering that Kumori had to oil up the well-built Guardian, he turned to face the Assassin, ready to blurt out a COME AT ME, BRO. He stopped once he realized that the Assassin's lap was full of Samurai. Instead, he walked up to the two, his head bobbing to the beat of the dwarf's tune as he approached them. He pulled up a chair next to the Assassin's, leaning back in it with an arm thrown behind it.
"My body is ready..."
Whether it was Oxford or the alcohol talking, the choice is left up to the next poor soul caught up in the game's antics. |
template coded by oxford of ET
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Nine.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Tailor
Tracker
Guild:
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Post by Kumori on Apr 30, 2014 8:15:30 GMT
| Skills: Tags: | : Word Count : 0899 OOC Notes: Quick Slot: Windsor Antiqua Throwing Knives | Kumori reached for his shot glass that Tobin gave him to drink. He downed it and let out an exasperated “Ahhhhhh!” Satisfied with the contents of the nectar of the heavens, he watched the hilarity that had occurred between Oxford, Scoria, and Elkeid. Hell, he didn’t mind having a woman on his lap… for the most part. But he should’ve probably been careful of what he asked for, as you’ll soon find out, he’d have a similar thing happening to him.
Ryuu looked at Ragnarok with his eyes wide open. Did he really just give those orders? These orders were far worse than what was given so far. I mean, he could deal with rubbing some oil. As homosexual as it may seem, it’s not like he hadn’t put sun-tan lotion on another man’s back. But what he saw was a slyness and a want for suffering for all. That man hadn’t even suffered much, and yet here he was, forcing them to do these tasks that were worse than what everyone else had done. He felt sorry for both Elkeid and Scoria. Because of the killjoy Ragnarok, this game had become increasingly dangerous. Drinking more than a gallon of milk in one sitting was already unhealthy, but forcing him to drink 3 gallons? In addition to that, forcing Elkeid to drink wine, an acquired taste, but one that took age and lots and lots of the red liquid to understand the tastefulness and unique properties of it was something to be outright saddened by, especially since it wasn’t amazing wine she would be getting either… Since it was in bulk, it was probably cheap wine. In addition to that, Elkeid was required to keep drinking until Scoria downed all the required milk. He used a hostage, and that made Ryuu made. Mad enough, he was ready to use Ragnarok’s face as a rag to smear the oil all over Oxford, but he decided against it. He didn’t want Oxford scarred for life because of his actions. As they all began their actions, he waited for Kyuu to harass him, but he wasn’t sure how she was going to do it. What he didn’t expect was her to sit on his lap… for the second time, it seemed. She was never like this in the real world. What changed? Confound it! It didn’t matter. He mustered up his willpower to keep things in check.
Ryuu looked at the bottle of oil and shook his head. He grabbed it in his right hand and had Oxford stand next to him. He stood up, pushing Kyuu off of him for a second so he could manage to put the oil on Oxford and dump it on top of his head. “Your body may be ready, but I don’t really want to do this… good thing I have some alcohol in me,” he said. He took the bottle and squeezed the entire contents over the head of Oxford and readied his hands. He breathed in, and then out, and then in again. He closed his eyes and sighed as he placed his hands on the Guardian. The song that the dwarf was singing was not helping. The “sexy sax” song was just the worst to add into the mix while he was doing this… it made him feel even more homosexual. (Of all songs, why that one?!)
If Ryuu was a woman, he’d probably admire the muscular texture of his body, every curve and every mound that the hand passed over, but he wasn’t a woman, and this definitely wasn’t a woman he was rubbing his hands all over. The look of disgust was written all over his face, but he did it. He did it until every last drop was out of the bottle and Oxford was oily slick and it ended with the lyrics: ‘We could have been so good together.’ Oh my… He sat back down and let Caerbannog physically harass him, but his anger that was pent up for Ragnarok was what kept him from failing his willpower save. (He got an automatic +50 whenever the dice rolled, so even if he critically failed, he’d still maintain his willpower because he was focused on the target of his ‘wrath’)
After everyone had returned, Scoria looking pale, glaring at Ragnarok, Elkeid also giving a deathly glare towards him, it was obvious that this game that was supposed to be fun and games had turned into something much worse. Ryuu wasn’t going to stand for it, and he doubted Elkeid and Scoria were going to for much longer as well. After Ragnarok’s turn was ended, Ryuu stood up and turned towards the door. “I’m going to go to another bar to get a few drinks… everyone is invited… except for Ragnarok,” he said as he opened the door. He grabbed a shot glass for Kyuu, since he knew she’d make a ruckus if she didn’t get a drink before they left. Typical Kyuu, I guess. he thought. “Let’s go Caerbannog… we’re going to get drinks at another place,” he said as he grabbed her hand as gently as he could in his angered state. “Elkeid, Scoria, you guys in?” he asked. He didn’t want any more to do with the other Assassin. He had no reasons to give such punishments, as he hadn’t even done anything remotely similar to it.
Code by DinDeen. Original Art by Tistelmark. :DeviantArt: |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2014 11:59:52 GMT
If you’re happy and you know it, then you’re drunk. If you’re happy and you know it, then you’re drunk. If you’re happy and you know and you are really wasted, If you’re happy and you know it, then you’re drunk.
That weird version of a real world song played repeatedly in Caerbannog’s mind and she even hummed that tune as she harassed Kumori. If she’d been less drunk, she would have noticed that half of the people around the table were no longer having fun. Elkeid and Scoria in particular got the bad end of the bullshit game that the samurai proposed; she was too wasted to notice that. Now, a peculiar thing about the samurai was that she easily got drunk, but instead of passing out, she would want to drink more. What was oniichan thinking? Letting his imouto drink like that... and then he wondered why she harassed him that way?
Tobin did his best to lighten up the mood though and along with Oxford, they almost succeeded. The long-haired assassin even cooperated with the guardian and carried out the tyrant’s orders. THAT was something that Caerbannog remembered clearly despite her drunken state; she giggled at Kumori’s obvious apprehension. She’d remind him of that some time in the future. After all of the orders had been carried out, Kumori stood up and, probably unintentionally, threw the samurai off his lap. He made up for it by giving her a drink though; she took two. And another one just for good measure. The samurai would have taken another shot if not for the oniichan who led her away.
“ Nuuuuuu... more drinks... “ she complained. As Caerbannog looked around for ‘help’, she noticed the druid who was rather pale, “ Scoria! Don’t let him take me away! SCORIA I WANT YOUR BABY! “
Yeaaaah, that didn’t sound right. Caerbannog bawled on the way out but quickly recovered when she was able to grab yet another drink from a passing waiter. A bit happier, she waved at the group and waited for them to follow. The night was still young but if they had enough of the party, then s’all good too. The wolf-hair could have all the drinks to herself.
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