[SE] Break the rules, cross a line, make a mess

Coming here had not been easy. That's an irritating truth that brushes up against her like a rasp of scales rather than fur. She can't keep narrowing her world into just the spaces that are soft and shiny, especially not when they can dull in an instant, so she sets the decision between her teeth and bears down on it. She steps into the Inner Quarter with all the intent of shouldering past discomfort and breaking through to the other side of it.

She slaps up her notice on the board. The action's like surfacing from underwater, forcing her to inhale deeply, and for a moment she lingers there with her palm over the paper. A quiet laugh slips out, harried free by nerves and absurdity, and as it rises so too does her hand that threads through her hair. It's unclear if it's peace or madness that's claimed her, maybe a bit of both, but after the mirth unstitches her side she finally steps away and retreats further into the city.

The threat of losing control here suddenly doesn't carry so much weight. Can't ruin what's already in pieces. She doesn't have many options left either, sun's sinking, so it's either hole up in a place she doesn't trust, or face a different discomfort. There's testing limits, and then there's breaking on them—she hasn't seen the stars in weeks and she doesn't plan to break that streak tonight. Instead, she slips into the most familiar skin she can find in this place, a bar.

The Last Whisper is a place alive with a familiar buzz. Shops, some odd and unique, beckon with flame and colored awnings, but the strike of her boots takes her to the roar of a crowd that's racing sunset to drunk. It boasts a little kitchen in the back, her eyes drifting over waiters delivering potato skins and artichoke dips. Her attention is drawn to the bar top though, particularly to the shots that are on fire. Literally, on fire. Her brow quirks as she leans in on the counter with her elbows, slouching her chin into her palm as she watches Ancients and non-Ancients alike shoot the burning liquor. "One of those," she says to the barkeep with a nod towards the spectacle. "Blanco too," as a chaser, as she's no idea what's in the other.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal prefers the Dusklight over the other bars in the Last Whisper, but sometimes a girl needs to graze in different fields, and her appetite has been insatiable recently - although not in a good way. Despite the abundance of men she's screwed in the past few weeks, no one has managed to scratch the itch.

Rolling her neck, Thal pushes her hair behind her shoulder, the dark tresses moving away to reveal the low cut of her black blouse. The gloss of her horns catches the dim lighting, accentuating the tilt of her head when she spots a familiar blonde at the bar top, temporarily distracted from sex. A feline grin spreads across her face, mischievous and wickedly amused as she saunters to the counter. 

She winks at the bartender, tapping the wood when she leans against it. "Make that two flaming shots, and add a glass of bourbon."

While the man scurries off to fetch their drinks, Thal turns to Colt, amusement glinting in her eyes when she asks, "What chaos are you up to tonight?"

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

She is no stranger to having a stranger slink up beside her at a bar top, man or otherwise. Difference is, she knows this stranger, in as much as a name and a drink or two can mean you know someone. "Thalassa," she murmurs, the greeting unaccompanied by anything other than a sideways flick of her eyes. While the ancient's arrival is warm, rich with a familiarity and nod towards the night that marked them as such, Colt does not shift to open towards the woman. Given that not long ago she would have launched herself into a losing fight with this woman on sight, her more reserved response is an improvement.

At the question offered, Colt simpers, fingers curling into the slope of her cheek. "No chaos, only survival," she sighs out, the sound long and loud, seeming to empty every bit of Colt's patience with it. She clucks her tongue as she inhales, and the hand holding up her chin falls onto the counter with a thud as she finally turns her head more fully towards Peach. "So if you're bringing me any again, you can fuck right off. Got plenty to deal with still after the last time." Her irritation and confusion has only simmered down from on sight, doesn't mean she still doesn't blame Thalassa for some of this mess, and doesn't mean she might not still get into a losing fight over it.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Her spine arches as she props her arms against the bar, tail flicking behind in a seductive dance of ease that's cut short by the bite of irritation, a stutter in the rhythm that transitions into something slow and curious. The blue of her eyes moves from the bartender to Colt, an eyebrow raised to get a better look at the snapping attitude. It's not something she's seen from the rancher, and she thinks it must be a joke until their eyes meet, laughter bursting forth at the anger she sees there. 

Thal shifts her head forward, baffled to the point of disbelief and pointedly ignoring the pang in her chest as she teases. "Damn. I insulted you, got you crushed by a horse, and put you on your ass multiple times, but a kiss is what pisses you off." She shakes her head, another low and melodic chuckle flowing from her crooked grin. Fangs peek from her lips, her tongue running over their tips as she turns back to the blazing alcohol making its way towards them. "If it helps, I didn't come over here to hit on you. It was just a kiss." Shrugging her shoulders, she lets her eyes wander the rest of the bar, wondering who might be better company if Colt decides to continue being a piss-poor drinking partner.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

A soft, musical hum fills the air, gentle and steady, drifting from a cluster of low-hanging branches and broken stone. Nestled together beneath them is a small colony of Humming Bats, their fuzzy bodies tucked close as they sleep.

Their wings are folded neatly around them, rising and falling with slow breaths, the hum deepening or fading slightly as individuals shift in their rest. Now and then, one stirs just enough to nuzzle closer to its neighbour before settling again.

The colony remains undisturbed, wrapped in warmth and sound, a rare pocket of calm amid the fractured landscape. Whether they wake and scatter or continue their peaceful slumber depends entirely on how quiet the world around them remains.

---

Humming Bats Areas Found: Hollowed Grounds, Stormbreak — Common A large colony of bats live in the eaves of some rooftops. Coming out only at night as they are wont to do, this species of bat uses both echolocation to determine their surroundings as well as an oral phenomena that sounds to human ears like humming. They are roughly hand-sized, are easily frightened, and happily eat away the bugs that would otherwise linger near your doors and windows. Challenge Rating: Easy HP: 38 | To Hit: +34 | Dmg: 8 Movement: Fly 40 ft.; Climb 20 ft. (rafters and walls) SPECIAL SKILLS Doorstep Pest Control: voracious appetites keep insects away from doors and windows; Colony Coordination: hundreds can wheel as one, avoiding obstacles and predators with tight formations; Silent Break: when threatened, the chorus cuts off at once and the colony disperses into shadowed gaps

TRAITS Rooftop Roost: colonies nest in eaves and rafters above occupied homes; Nocturnal: emerge only after dusk, retreating at first light; Echolocation: continuous sonar pings map surroundings in detail; Humming Chorus: an oral hum to human ears, used to coordinate flight paths; Skittish: easily startled and quick to scatter ACTIONS Hum Pulse: a brief surge in humming that startles pests from crevices for easy feeding; Swarm Veil: a coordinated burst that creates a momentary screen of wings, letting the colony slip past threats; Roost Shift: cascades from one rooftop to another, settling the area and resuming the quiet chorus

The moment their eyes lock, Colt's ire twists, sharp and cold in her gut as blue eyes stare back at her. Nowhere near the same, but for a flicker of an instant, especially given where she's at, they're his and they steal all the breath from her. It's part of why she doesn't do anything but blink back at the sound of amusement rising from the ancient, quietly sucking in air to replenish her stocks as her lips press in tighter over each other.

The faintest twitch hums in on one side of her lips. "One time," she corrects, smooth as the first drink of the night. "You put me on my ass, one time." Her finger taps audibly on the bar top. "And the horse was mutual." Which is less about taking away some of Thal's thunder and more about accepting her own stupidity in that particular whirlwind of fuckery. If only it were as simple as keeping score like that, but the kiss follows suit, and with it Colt's features tighten further. She'd spent a good deal of time and money trying to both understand and forget that moment with Thalasaa.

"That kiss," Colt mutters with no hidden disdain, "fucked everything." She reaches out to pull her two shots towards her, gaze drawn to the flicker of the fire that's the rum set ablaze. The coffee liqueur, Irish cream, and Gran Marnier is layered beneath it, striped nicely and promising something better than the way she feels right now. She holds it aloft, glancing at Thal over the flame with a huff of a bitter laugh at this not being another attempt. "Glad to know it was one night, but that's all it takes, I guess. Certainly all Vesper needed to be done." She lifts up her shot in silent cheers, more out of habit than intent, and barely blows out the fire before tipping it back, needing to wash his name off her tongue.

It's not to her tastes, so as expected she reaches for the blanco and takes that down right after. The heat of the two shots is an immediate curl in her gut, familiar and welcome. "Another round," she says, tapping both glasses back on the bar. Not the worst thing she's ever drank, and over fast enough to gag through it, she welcomes the quick decline into something hazier than this. Over the din of the bar, the low hum of the bats cuts through, causing Colt to pause and listen for a moment.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

She raises her hand in a conceding gesture, assuming it must have felt like more times with how easy it was to knock the woman to the ground. It's a comment she'll keep to herself, even if the cocky grin says more than enough. At least Colt finds a hint of humor in the situation - if her hidden smirk is anything to go by. The same one that vanishes faster than she can dart. 

Thal watches the rancher closely, the vacuum of emotion, the way she reaches desperately for the shot glasses, the bitterness lacing her tone. It all tells a story that she's more than familiar with, one she has tried to rewrite more than a few times. Perhaps she should feel proud of the role she plays in it all, but truth would have it that she's not as cruel as she lets on, and heartbreak is the second worst thing she could imagine doing to a person. 

Swinging her head away from the sight, she latches onto the drinks that slide across the bar top. Unflinching in the face of fire, she swallows it down, smoke and a flicker of flames curling around her lips like a banking cigarette. Her eyes finally slide back to Colt, all trace of humor sliding to the pit of her stomach along with the burn of alcohol. "Sounds like it was a small price to pay in the long run." Because it looks to Thal like the chaos was exactly what Colt had needed - a blessing in disguise to reveal the truth about Vesper. The woman should consider herself grateful she was able see the truth before something truly catastrophic had occurred, a moment where death and suffering might have been on the line rather than lips and playful fun. Thal wishes she'd had the same.

Locking eyes with the bartender, she raises two fingers, assuming the tab of shots with a harmonic hum that joins the bats. "This one's on me." It's not a claim of blame or guilt for the kiss that Colt had initiated, but an admittance of understanding for being caught in the aftermath of emotions. 

*

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

Like vomit, she can't keep back the stark laugh that rises free at the idea of anything she'd done lately being a small price. "Yeah?" she wonders, the false humor floating away on a liquored sigh, the brief light in her eyes dimming back to recessed thoughts and guarded hurt. The drift of her attention slides back, firm and sharp onto Thalassa as she extends as close to an apology as Colt suspects she'll get. It's the style of one she prefers anyway, and it slackens some of the taut edge to her tongue, audibly so as she clicks from the corner of her mouth as her features pull up on one side. "Same shit happen between the two of you?"

She'd had the ghost of a suspicion in Torchline after the one time Thal sat her on her ass, but she hasn't been able to sort out what'd rile Vesper up so hard about Thal's lips otherwise. Unless she killed his puppy or something, but she's pretty sure the only pet he's ever owned are his shadows, and she can't blame him for that. She'd like some obedient magic too over all the barking and fur she otherwise deals with. "You guys were fuckin', right?" She asks pointedly, chin tipping in as though her gaze is pouring over invisible spectacles. "That's why it stung him so bad." She's absolutely fishing, and no, she's not an angler by trade and she doesn't know the bait Thal likes, but she's got enough sense to wiggle something out there.

Not that she intends to focus on him all night, quite the opposite in fact, but she would like to get this shitshow cleaned up and set aside before she can even consider relaxing, otherwise fucking off or fighting it'll need to be else she might just go mad afterall. She's run too many thoughts dry spilling over and over ideas of whhy and what, and even if Thal had only been the fuse to the powderkeg, she'd still played a role in the explosion.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Colt might not believe her, but Thal would venture to say a heated kiss with an acquaintance would be preferred to losing all sense of autonomy, not that it probably seems that way at the moment. They both ended up here anyways, drinking flaming shots in a bar full of strangers, no shadowy demigod looming over their shoulders. 

Retrieving her next shot from the bartender, Thal pauses to take a large swig of her bourbon. After all, if they're going to continue along this line of conversation, she's going to need a lot more alcohol. The memories swim through her mind, crisp as the day they'd happened and just as bitter; but she shoots Colt a half smirk, hiding the thoughts behind a playful withholding of information. "Not exactly." Different shit, same ending.

A weak draft sputters out the shots' already dwindling flames. It gives her an excuse not to look at Colt - not because she's embarrassed, but because she might just give away more than she intends, too aware of her own fiery emotions and how they reflect within her eyes. Her delicate fingers wave over the glasses, the alcohol setting alight with the magic just in time for her to hum a nonchalant affirmative. "Mhm." The sound raises at the end, nearly joking in it's brightness. 

Then the heated liquid is sliding down her throat, clearing more of her hesitations. She lowers the glass to the wood in a soft clink, sliding her tongue along her teeth to clear the liquor lingering there. Her tone loses some of its teasing, although the irony of it all clings to the ghost of a smile. "I doubt that part of our history is what bothered him." Blue eyes drag to the blonde, an eyebrow raising as she throws out her own barbed bait. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you all about it." It's not like he'd cared enough about whatever they'd had to salvage it, and if they were as serious as Colt's reaction suggests, it seems unlikely that he'd keep such an insignificant piece of his past a secret. 

*

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

The latest flaming shot arrives and Colt reaches for it, holding it before her like she might divine some answers from its secret flame. Keeping it this close, she can smell the rum pouring off it, sizzling up into blue and orange fire that twists and turns under her breath. It tugs a frown in at the corner of her mouth, the liquor too familiar in a way she doesn't want, so she lets this one stay ablaze a bit longer. "Mm," she considers with a glance through the fire back to Thal, the woman giving up about as much as the last time they'd danced around this subject. She doesn't blame Peach for playing it close to the vest, but it does annoy her. She's never had the best poker face, it's why she doesn't tend to gamble her money too often, but she'd like to see the cards Thal is holding up if only so she might get to the end of this damn game.

She exhales over the heat of the shot and downs it, as swift and sure as falling into any hole is like. The tequila follows suit once more, although she won't be keeping up the double fisting much longer, not unless she means to be doubled down on the ground at least. She's just recovering from the burn that makes its path known all the way down, even where it settles contentedly in her gut, when Thal brushes her notions aside like crumbs in the way of her elbows. Colt's breath gathers, tipping forward subtly towards the ancient in preparation for what should come next, the explanation, but slippery as any fish, the woman turns it back around. 

Colt's lips quirk at the sight of the hook flashing in the pond, even if she can't help but to take a nibble, testing just how dangerous that point might be. "Oh, no?" She leans into the idea of surprise, brows lifting with overblown expression. "So watching an ex lock lips with your current squeeze is just average foreplay for you, yeah?" She sets her empty shot glasses back down on the bartop, motioning for more of the flaming ones, to keep them coming. It's a welcome distraction against the rest of what Thal says, which sinks in deeper than Colt cares to admit to. The idea that perhaps she doesn't know Vesper so well after all is not a new one, but this is the first time she's faced with the threat of someone who might know him better, might know him in all the ways she had, and then some. Is it, surprising that he didn't tell her, or is it bluffing?

Colt turns back with a pressed on smile, one that surely won't fool the ancient, not when Colt's eyes lack the rounding warmth that her mouth is trying to pass off. "It must not have mattered enough for him to say," she shrugs, feigning a nonchalance she doesn't feel, but she's not quite able to help herself from defending him a touch, even still. Nevermind that worry grates down her spine with the idea that there's something here she doesn't know, something he should have told her, or according to him, something she should have asked about. She's used to having her heart on the line, uncomfortable as it is, but she usually likes to know where the damn line is when she sets it down. This feels like it just shifted, and she doesn't like it one bit.

"How about we make this a bit more fun, honey?" Colt croons with a sweetness that drips too freely off her teeth, the smile flashing wide in warning. Her hand folds beneath her chin, her other arm crossing over her chest, one finger tapping at her side. "Let's play some truth or dare. If you can't do it, you drink." She waits, confident Thal's the sort that can't pass up a challenge. If she does, well, she'll try a different tactic at leading this horse to water.

Assuming she doesn't, Colt's grin parts over the first round. "Truth, or dare, Peach?"

---

Colt suggests they play truth or dare, the rules of which are follows (rules may be edited still at this time):

• A truth is a question that must be answered honestly, and a dare is a challenge that must be completed within that same post. 
  
• If you complete the truth or dare you get 50 MP from the other player.
  
• If you pass on the truth or dare you give 100 MP to the other player. You must take 1 flaming shot. Each flaming shot gives you 1 drunk. Every 2 drunks you must roll an 8-sided die and complete the IC action corresponding to that die number listed below.
  

1. Drunk text (send an IC letter to someone confessing some sort of feelings)
   
2. Shave their hair or eyebrows (what's shaved remains that way all season - if you did one and roll this again, then you do the other)
   
3. Dye their hair (remains that color all season, can assume magic hair coloring so doesn't have to be only bleaching for Thal - roll again if you already shaved your hair)
   
4. Get a stupid tattoo
   
5. Get a facial piercing (magically sealed on for the whole season as a health precaution)
   
6. Get into a fight with another character who's in the vicinity (can roll the dice for who, or tag someone in at random w/ their permission, or ask for a volunteer, would be a break away thread)
   
7. Use an ability and wreak havoc in the vicinity (Colt channels, maybe roll who she channels. Thal uses spirit pact and curses someone? Or Thal shifts or uses magic)
   
8. Be caught naked by someone in the vicinity (can roll the dice for who, or tag someone in at random w/ their permission, or ask for a volunteer, would be a break away thread)
   

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal doesn't know or care what Colt thinks about her avoidance, certain it's perceived more as a distaste for her past fling instead of the truth: her embarrassment at having been tricked by more than one man in the last year. She clutches the vulnerability close, keeping her snarky grin and a healthy level of ambiguity. Like how she wouldn't even consider Vesper an ex. What they'd had was too short, too shallow, and altogether too uncertain to have been labeled anything substantial, and if she called every man she slept with an 'ex,' she'd be filling all the tic-tac-toe boards. 

Her smile widens, confidence flowing off her as she leans intentionally against the wood. "Sure, if the ex looks anything like me." She winks, knowing how her cleavage widens with the position, a feature exploited against plenty of weak-minded individuals - Vesper not excluded. 

Lounging comfortably in the provocative position, she takes another sip of her bourbon, but her body is alert, curious. Her tail flicks behind her, head angled to hear what the rancher might reveal. She's starting to recognize Colt's expressions, and the one she presents looks achingly familiar to the one's Thal has worn herself. It's has too much depth to be dismissive, the well of questions and doubts flowing down farther than the person wants to admit. But the captain doesn't call her out on it, letting the drag of her eyes and the wordless response express her doubts. "Mhm."

A wickedness spreads across her face, chuckling low with approval at the proposition. "I like the way you think." The glint of her eyes is sharp as steel, only just beginning to dull with the alcohol working through her system, and plenty more to go. It threatens hard truths and painful punishments, her fangs flashing brighter than a cheshire cat in the dim light. "Dare." She wouldn't let Colt have the truth straight out of the gate. 

---

Thal picks dare.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

There's a subtlety to Thalassa's lean in that might have unwittingly pulled in a man, or someone with a better appreciation for the swell her shirt offers up. Colt can admire, perhaps envy, the display of another woman without complaint, but she recognizes a tactic she herself has used as surely as any magician knows each other's tricks. One brow quirks, unsure if Thalassa's breasts agree with the earlier statement of not being here to hit on her again. Colt's attention stays decidedly above the ancient's neckline, far more interested in the shifting slopes of Thalassa's expression than her tits, though the move is admittedly well played.

The bartender slides over their next batch of flaming shots, blue fire dancing at their elbows, ready to participate in their reindeer games. Thal's acceptance blooms a fresh fox grin, this one more honest, if no less sly in nature. If Colt's overconfident, it's because this is her sort of gambling, and she intends to come out on top. "I thought you might." Her voice curls with newfound delight, humming on the warmth of liquor already working to loosen knots she's been tightening since her last visit here.

She buries the disappointment of a dare with a tilt of her of her head, eyes skimming the bar and its shelves of bottles laid out behind the counter. It's a fortress for the bartender, a moat of space to keep the likes of them back, but Colt flops an arm across it to lay seige. "Can I get some ink, darlin?" she calls out, gaze meeting Lou's, according to his nametag, then chin jerking towards the well of ink used for tallying tabs. An odd request, but seemingly harmless, so Lou passes it over after his eyebrows do some impressive wriggling around. "Thank ya dear," she murmurs, palm cupping the base, fingers curling around it securely as she pivots it between them. "I dare ya to wear a dick and balls on your forehead all night. Happy to be your artist."

She holds the jar aloft, shaking it faintly, the dark liquid sloshing. Assuming Thal does not deny this dare, Colt will dip a finger in an lean over to get to work. If she does, well, bottoms up. "Truth," Colt murmurs when the round settles.

---

Colt dares Thal to get a dick and balls drawn on her forehead for the night.
Colt select truth for her round.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal laughs, abrupt and melodic in the din of the bar. "Needed a way to even the odds, huh?" As if they'd been competing over the guys in the bar. Leaning into the space between them, Thal offers forth the canvas of her forehead, even tucking her hair behind a horn to clear the space. Rather than hesitation or regret, Colt will only find defiant amusement in the intense blue of her gaze. "Do your worst." She has a smirk plastered on her face the entire time the ink is applied, even shooting Lou a wink as she straightens, brandishing the phallic art like a prize. 

Then it's Colt's turn. 

Of course she chooses truth, and of course Thal wants to ask about Colt's thing with Vesper; but at this point it would just look desperate, a crazy fling still hung up on ancient, buried history. It wouldn't serve her to ask about him - not when there's no hope of repair between then - and she wouldn't even know where to start if she did, so Thal looks beyond the game, a cunning glint in her eyes. "What's your deepest fear?" Before Colt can answer, she raises a finger, tone abrasive when she adds, "Not some bullshit about dragons or scary sounds. The kind that keeps you up at night." It's a test, curious to see if Colt will trust her with the kind of information that could hurt her, betting that she won't. 

Only once Colt gives her answer - or drinks - does Thal grin, wicked and vicious. "Dare." She knows what Colt is after and she's willing to put up with whatever stupidity is thrown at her just to watch the woman squirm a little longer. 

---

Thal demands Colt say her deepest fear. 
Thal picks dare again.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

There’s absolutely no holding back her smiles now when the view before her is so exquisite. Not anywhere close to an artist, but well versed on the subject matter, her depiction is impressive with accuracy and the small details of hairs and veins. It’s her medium and tools that have betrayed her a touch, some thicker sections dripping down faintly as if the phallic symbol is due to melt when pressed to all of Thal’s heat. One area is also smudged, where she’d tried to wipe it clean, which quickly proved the worst decision.”Stunning. You should get it tattooed.” Despite the amateur application, the blazing facial dick is a good omen of an improving night, and Colt has to bite down on the insistence of laughter every time her gaze returns to Thal.

The humor quickly shortens up when the round turns its teeth on her. She’d slapped down truth like cards she’d been certain couldn’t be beat, undaunted by whatever Thal might ask. Colt’s more than willing to flash all her flaws like they can adorn her as finely as jewelry, each one held onto with intent by this point. She’s quietly forced back into the full border of her seat when Thal delivers a deep cut out the gate.

It’s not worry that makes her hesitate. Funny enough, placing fears in the hands of someone you don’t know too well is easier than giving them over to those you trust. What’s Thal gonna do with them, laugh? She’d rather hear it from Thal than someone like Thorn. It’s not doubt either, because this truth is smooth with the familiarity of touch, traced again and again. Colt only pauses because Thal’s asking her to dredge up something ugly and deep, and for a moment she considers if she wants to let it flood the buzz she’s been growing instead.

Determined, if nothing else, Colt’s lips twitch. ”Being erased.” The admittance does not come out with any sort of strain, just the flat seriousness it deserves. Her fingers tap out a pattern on the table, a habit she falls into without intent, any meaning behind the order long since lost to even her. Middle finger strikes three times, then her ring finger goes twice, and then it rolls in a single tap in quick succession from her pinky across to her pointer before stilling. ”Not like when I’m dead. I doubt I’m makin’ any legends or campfire tales.” The only sort of immortality she might achieve, but even then unlikely. ”Not dying either. I mean now, when it matters, when it’s my chance to be me.” She’d nearly been removed once already, and parts of her she never got back, not all the way.

She’s half a mind to take her shot anyway, but settles on drinking down the next opportunity to pull on Thal. Dare slips forth again, and Colt begins to suspect she’s either not as sly as she first thought, or Thal’s too much a woman of action to be content with conversation. ”Alright, I dare ya to go over there,” she nods with a tilt of her head towards a nearby table of twenty-somethings. ”Get on your hands and knees, act like a goat. Little bit of baaing, some horned head butting, maybe chew a pantleg or two. Whatever inspiration strikes. For one minute.” She grins, settling in for a show, or a shot.

As for herself, when it’s up again, she says simply, ”dare.”

---

Round 1: Thal & Colt both did their choices so net 0 MP exchanged & 0 drunk gained.

Colt dares Thal to act like a goat for 1 minute.
Colt selects dare.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky