[m] hide from the sunshine

Tournament: Drinking Competition

POSTED: Wed Apr 01, 2020 1:46 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

The festivities had been grand, good fun and all - just as a witness lead to bear while contestants battled and combatted for vetted titles and finery, little prizes. Little wins.

It was a very good distraction from any impending threat back home and from the prying eyes of their new gaggle of Palisade's brood. Whilst the feasting happened, he fumbled in a breast pocket to fetch a little tin of hand-rolled cigarettes and a flask. Nazario yearned for the mischief of his youthful summer days, before the world had come crashing down. Casa di Cavalieri's security renewed the hunger, and, obfuscating himself, he trailed off for some festivities of his own, snagging a few bottles in the wake - surely this brotherhood of knights had something worthwhile, hiding out amidst the stores.

Wines. Meads.

Hardly the kick in the jowels that Del Cenere was becoming known for - when the Rey Salvaje looked back up, there were eyes on him. Blithely, he smiled.

"Who's up for a last hurrah? Just an impromptu get together --" he set out an empty wooden cup. "Everyone know the rules of drinkin'? When ya can't see, you tap out. Don't be goin' and makin' yourself a damned fool."

Maturing for the abuse of alcohol!| [wc — 000] template by hilli
you haven't met me
i am the only son
Del Cenere Gang
Rey Salvaje
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POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2020 9:07 am

Calan Brecours
>:D [+323]

This whole event had proven to be nothing but boring, tedious, and a waste of his time. Calan shouldn’t have been surprised. Instead, the blond found himself irritated that he’d allowed himself to hope for something else. The trials had blurred into one another, a sea of boring strength tests, flung arrows, and dreadful conversation with absolute strangers. Even the mudwrestling hadn’t been all that erotic. And to handle all of this sober? He swore that he was being impartial about it all, considering just how little he’d wanted to actually go, but the Casa really made it seem like they wanted him to die a slow and boring death.

He’d just started to think he’d call it an early night when he overheard a man he’d never seen before. Lean and firm, with a few bottles cradled in his arms, the coyote had a particular look to his eyes that Calan recognized: a supreme desire to get well and truly fucked up. His blue eyes watched as he set them down on a table, unearthing a wooden cup, while his reedy voice called out for anyone to join in.

Now this was a real party. And he was good at drinking. Besides, he didn’t really want to remember much of his dreams to come. The Sitsina knew it was against the rules to drink, but… well, this man didn’t look like a Casa member, he rationalized, so he wasn’t technically breaking their prohibition rules, nor forcing anyone to do anything they weren’t comfortable with. Totally legal. And he wanted this drink - wanted it with an urgency that he hadn’t thought possible.

In the end, his spoiled, addicted attitude won out; and with that he reached for one of the proffered bottles, not seeing another cup in sight. Hey, sign me up. Why the fuck not. And he flashed his million-watt grin. I’m Calan, by the way. You ready to do this?

template by Kitty, image by @mak_jp
Calan Brecours
New Caledonia
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Community Soul Merchant II, Pathfinder I Spring Spree 2020
golden boy
the dye has been cast

POSTED: Sat Apr 11, 2020 2:13 am

This was all it, the moment he was waiting for! A bit of travel and some soreness from the doubles match, but now came the only thing he was excited for when he stepped into Casa's territory. This was what all the months of fending for himself and constant starvation led up to! It was time for feasting! It was time for food!

He had eaten, and then some, and then some more. Practically stuffed to the brim, he was a bit uncomfortable, but didn't pay it too much attention. There was so much worse he had experienced, and he would happily take this pain over the emptiness of hunger. As he took a break, walking around a bit to pass the time, he noticed someone with a few bottles, reminding him of a night some time back. There was whiskey in those bottles.

He was not the only one who noticed, but that didn't matter. Just him and Phoenix was an experience, but with more, who knows what fun was to be had? The coywolf noticed the forming group and smiled, offering one last "hurrah". With a flick of the ear, Wally considered it, a bit of a grin coming to his mouth. On one hand, it made him sick for a few days, though the agony he went to dulled with time. On the other hand, he still recalled the night as a good time, even with how much time had passed. It took another dog to walk up to break the ice for Wally as he took his own step forward with a swish of the tail. "Let me join in on t'a fun. Since we be throwin' out names, call me Wally." It was probably not the best idea to be drinking with who knows in a pack he lacked knowledge in, but who cared? He won't have to remember it within a few hours. Besides, maybe it'll help him ignore his aching muscles and his stuffed stomach.

Of course, he was looking forward to the feeling of intoxication, how the world lurched and how it seemed to energize him. Sure, he knew he'll regret this the next day, but the aftermath of his first time wasn't as strong as it was the day after. He needed a reminder.
Mistfell Vale
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Spotlight Soul Tailor I

POSTED: Sat May 23, 2020 2:12 am

Better think twice
Your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter, be wise

Quinn wasn't a truly complex woman, keyed to chase the here and now rather than consider the long term ramifications of her many, many, many dubious actions.

Fate conspired to persuade her into making a good decision, catching sight of Boone for the first time in months stretched only to a raise of her brows and the intention to stalk towards him before her sister caught her arm to drag her away, unknowingly cutting off what was sure to have been a fiery confrontation.

Her attention remained effortlessly fluid, and she quickly lost the thoughts of conversation, dragged this way and that by the interesting events.

Instead she ran into Falcon, doing her best impression of a wallflower.

She prodded, shuffling the shorter woman by virtue of being taller and larger. Quinn could be something of a bully when she wanted to.

"No, no, no, I really don't.."

Protestations cut off by Quinn taking hold of Falcon's hands and dragging her towards the lauded drinking competition,

You gotta loosen up.. Grinning broadly, Quinn plonked herself down and physically hauled Falcon with her, mischievous astral sized up the competition,

Us too! Sign us up, we're competing! I'm Quinn and this is Falcon.

Falcon was furiously shaking her head back and forth, and made like she was going to scurry away, Quinn hooked her hand around the smaller woman's shoulders, and pressed one of the bottles of mead into her hand,

Honrin made this stuff so you definitely need to drink it. It's on fireee. Honrin's mead had gotten her laid by his son, so it was definitely high on the list of shit Quinn loved to steal from the bar.

Word Count: [205] Form: Optime Date: pp approved by Alex!

Table by Kitty. Edits by Nuki. Stock image from Deposit Photos.

Quinn   Damaichu
I watched the storm, so beautiful and yet oh so terrifying.
Casa di Cavalieri
First Cadet
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Luperci Fisher Tier I

POSTED: Sat May 23, 2020 8:39 pm

WC: 437

As the Cavaliers’ festivities wound down one last time, Falcon found herself alone again. There was something oddly serious about it all. The knights ate thick slabs of seasoned meat, drank tall cups of richly-flavored alcohol, and belly-laughed from well-fed stomachs, but never too much to damage their reputations. Many of them seemed weighed down by an almost oppressive seriousness, burdened by recent losses and neverending responsibilities—even Naya.

Before Falcon could dwell on it further, she noticed that a certain Rey Salvaje was up to no good; Nazario, with several bottles of alcohol in hand, was rounding up participants for an impromptu drinking contest. A New Caledonian the color of sunlight volunteered first, swiftly followed by her friend Wally, and then an already tipsy Reblin; it was shaping up to be quite the show.

Falcon sighed and fidgeted with her clothes, pulling her timeworn shawl tighter around her shoulders and her deer fur skirt higher up her hips. As fun as it looked, she knew she couldn’t participate.

The rift between her and Naya’s family was bridged with a half-rotten plank of wood, held up entirely by the knight’s forgiveness and compassion. Falcon didn’t want to cool their warming opinions, or break her friend’s trust, by making a fool of herself. Furthermore, the Elkenfrey couldn’t shake the growing responsibility she felt for Naya’s sons; it was almost like looking into a mirror, except their absent parent wasn’t as much of a drunkard.

Quinn’s sudden arrival, and her insistence that Falcon “loosen up,” seemed intent on proving otherwise.

Falcon pressed a hand to the scarred side of her face and groaned, the other clinging onto Honrin’s mead for dear life; if protesting wasn’t going to work, she supposed tapping out early would have to do. ”I’m... Aware of how good it is, Quinn,” Falcon said, her face warming from the older woman’s incessant closeness. ”Let’s… Let’s sit down, shall we? Preferably somewhere that Naya’s entire family can’t see me.”

The hand on Falcon’s shoulder pulled her down onto the sand, Quinn’s long, long legs splaying out in front of her to make room for the hybrid to sit between them. ”Congratulations, you’re officially hidden,” Quinn said, forming a big, warm wall between them and the rest of the party. It took every ounce of willpower Falcon had not to scramble away, Honrin’s mead now held defensively above her genitals.

It was better to be safe, and protected from potential embarrassment, than sorry.
Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Mistfell Vale
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Pack Aide II Drakehund I They stole my dirty socks... :( Spring Spree 2020

Casa di Cavalieri