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

Thalassa

Thal bats her eyelashes at Colt, the picture of poisonous innocence. "Only if you get a matching one." 

The humor quickly dies, almost making her regret the choice of question. It doesn't turn out to be something funny or easy to exploit because there's a numb reality to the answer Colt gives, a raw honesty she can't even make fun of. It brushes against a kindred thing in her, an echo of something violet and manipulating, thorn scars and ligature marks that are finally beginning to fade against her heart. 

She can't look, can't see the empty ache in Colt's eyes. Not when she knows hers will reflect the same. Thal just nods her head, muttering a flat "Dramatic much?" as she reaches for her bourbon. Uncaring about the alcohol beyond the distraction it provides, she takes a deep swig. 

When she sets the glass aside, it's with a soft clunk and a mischievous grin. "A goat, huh?" It's not the sexiest animal to imitate, but there's plenty of chaos the horned creatures can get into. 

Shooting Colt a wink, Thal saunters over to the table to conduct a confusing display. A seductive horned Ancient with a dick painted on her forehead lowering herself to kneel on the ground, and from her lips comes an attractive baah. 

The men don't know what to do with her, stunned into silence, drinks hovering in the air as they watch her crawl forward to bite her fangs into a dangling jacket. She tugs, almost offsetting the chair a man is sitting on. Grinning, Thal pulls her head, attempting to unseat him with a sudden motion. A ripping sensation rubs against her fangs, the material giving halfway as the man stumbles down to the floor. 

Flicking her tail, Thal lets out another baah and pretends to chew on the strip of fabric. But when one young man decides to laugh, well... goats don't appreciate that kind of sound. 

Thal freezes, head turning slowly to lock eyes on the man like a threat, blue fabric poised midway in her mouth. Giving a small hop like a declaration of war, she lunges forward, ramming her horn into the leg he dangles in front of her face. She makes sure not to use the tangs, but she doesn't hold back on the force, making certain there will be a bruise for the next week - and quite proud of it. 

She stands like the whole event never occurred, chewing a moment on the jacket before dropping it from her mouth into one of the men's glasses with a suggestive flicker of her eyes. It makes a quiet splash, an underwhelming sound for the chaos she leaves in her wake. 

Plopping herself back against the bar, another shit-eating grin spreads across her face the moment she registers 'dare.' She doesn't even have to think, gesturing to Colt's fancy footwear. "Mix lime juice and milk into your boots, then wear them the rest of the night." Thal can't imagine the smell will be great by the end, but that's the game, and she's not eager to lose. 

Still, she has to acknowledge the efforts so far and Thal raises her glass of bourbon to Colt, congratulating the woman for the moment that's finally arrived. "Okay. Ask your truth." While she waits, Thal takes another large swig, figuring she'll need it for whatever festering meat gets drawn up. 

---

Thal dares Colt to mix lime juice and milk in her boots, then wear them damp the rest of the night. 
Thal picks truth.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

Thal’s response breaks through the heaviness cleanly, and tension leaves Colt’s shoulders as they shake with a laugh. She’s delightfully swimming already in the warm swaddle of liquor, so all it takes is a nudge to send her drifting one way or another amid the muddled fog of thought and feeling right now. Ease flares back bright and soft, and Colt nods with a twist of a smile at the ancient. ”Absolutely,” she says with shameless ownership. It’s definitely not the first time she’s been called such.

Her humor settles into just the gleam of her eyes as Colt leans back, doing her best not to let the inked-on dick break her attempt at patience as Thalassa considers the dare. ”Dygra’s favorite animal, I’m sure,” Colt coaxes, because while there’s a host of chaos in the natural world, goats have an affinity for being complete chaotic terrorizing fuckheads.

The show is well worth the watch, and certainly some of the other parts of the bar quiet to look over. Colt’s laughter is uncontainable after a certain point, and when Thal returns she’s leaned back and holding her side, the sound since deepening into silence and tears.

”So good,” she manages weakly, breath shaking as she swipes a finger at her eye and attempts to regather enough composure to listen to her task. The mirth quickly dries up into disgust at the dare though, and Colt firmly shakes her head in refusal. ”Absolutely not,” she says flatly, reaching for her shot, the flame weak by now. ”These are my favorite boots.” She tips the liquor back around a fresh flare of heat, hand thumping the table at the burn and the lingering disgust of what she doesn’t actually like.

It’s worth it though, because Thal finally relents, and Colt leans in after wiping the edges of her mouth. ”Tell me, what went wrong with you and Vesper.” Maybe should have led with something lighter, but she doesn’t trust Thal will offer her this chance again.

---

Round 2: Thal did her choice and Colt refused | Thal: +150 MP, 0 drunk | Colt: - 150MP, 1 drunk

Colt asks Thal about .
Colt selects dare.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

The laughter, pouring of shots, and sharing of jokes is surprisingly cathartic. Thal doesn't realize she's smiling until she's pressing the bourbon to her lips, feeling the curve of glass meet the upward curve of her mouth. She blames it on the alcohol, the influence that's slowly giving her thoughts wings and bringing an attractive flush to her cheeks. 

But the cocky grin falters, falling to a flat, controlled expression she's so skilled at wearing. Because she knows what request is coming when she chooses truth, knows Colt won't miss her chance, but she still isn't ready. Thal hasn't told anyone about Vesper, not really. It's been a secret she's guarded close, one she tries not to look at unless she's alone with a full bottle to blur the hurt. 

It'd been easier to talk about Pierce, a necessity when explaining how she'd been infected, but even then, she'd only trusted Asta enough to admit that truth. Even with him, she hadn't been able to talk about the demigod, to admit how pained she'd been by his utter rejection - the first or second time. To admit that someone she'd barely known had been able to inflict such a wound on her heart. 

Swallowing the bourbon and bitterness on her tongue, Thal shrugs her shoulders. She tries to be nonchalant - to act like it doesn't still bother her - but the liquor loosens her lips, drawing them down in a frown of quiet resignation as she says, "I got infected." She could leave it there. After all, it's the truth, if not the abridged version of it; but Thal secretly wants someone to know, wants Colt to know why they were doomed to fail. 

That doesn't make saying it any easier. 

In a slow, distracted motion, she lowers the glass, rotating the bottom against the counter with easy habit. The words feel a little farther if she focuses on the grind of glass on wood, if she separates herself from the emotions the memories bring. "Vesper chose to abandon me to the situation I'd been stupid enough to get myself into." She tilts her head to the right, heaving a small breath to explain. "He blames me for walking into the arms of the man who killed his father - not that I knew at the time." Her head tilts to the other side, her hair falling to reveal her features. "And I blame him for being heartless enough to leave me to a fate worse than death." She pauses, an ache stemming from the scars crisscrossing her soul, nearly shivering with horror to recall those months. 

Clenching her jaw, Thal manages to scrounge a pathetic attempt at a cocky, unbothered grin. Raising her glass to Colt, she passes the torch of torture. "Your turn."

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

The tale does not start the way Colt expects. Infection lands as a surprise, not because Thal had been infected, but because it plays a role at all in this. Colt considers it though, what it must have felt like to watch someone change, to be other in a small way but very meaningful way. The violet curse is not one that liked to be known, so it would laid low until it struck, and Colt does register that Thal had been on the beach that day of the pool party. Not fighting against Pierce, but for him, and what a jarring reality that would have been.

It sits distastefully on the back of her tongue, bringing forth a slight grimace, as if she’s just eaten something bitter. ”Shit,” she says, an involuntary shudder rolling through her spine at the idea of those fuckers being inside you. ”That must have been awful,” she murmurs, eyes widening slightly. There’s more to it though, and Colt’s head tilts faintly as she falls silent and listens.

There’s several things that Thal says in quick succession, and some of it’s only half revealed, though Colt does her best to tie the strands together into something cohesive. She can see the cost it takes Thal to say them, and so she waits until the Ancient has finished, until she’s sure she understands the shape of this hurt that’s been place on the table. ”The situation you were stupid enough to get into,” she starts, fingers tracing out the dots on the surface between them. ”Being infected. And walking into the arms of the man who killed his father—Pierce? You were with Pierce, willingly? Infected, willingly?” Colt’s brows lift, shock threatening to steal away the rest of her expression and sense, few guardrails left when it comes to holding things back right now.

Willing would certainly put a new spin on this, and Vesper aside, Colt doesn’t understand how anyone could want that. Even Dygra, for all her love of chaos, surely did not want her ancients being taken by the void, so that meant Thal had been tricked, or Thal is more insane than she’s given her credit for.

Chewing on her lip with the unpacking of it all, Colt distractedly throws out, ”dare.”

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal doesn't say anything as Colt processes the information, not really feeling inclined to dredge up the sensation of manipulation and loss of control, being unable to untangle what had been her and what had been the Void even after all these months. The thoughts continue to brush against the barbed scars littering her mind, wondering if any violet hues still taint her. 

She grits her teeth, bracing against the fears that haunt her; but the moment quickly turns to frustration. Colt latches onto the information, obviously more intrigued by Thal's choices than anything else she had to say. She'd been stupid to assume anyone other than Asta would understand, to understand her enough to do anything but blame her for getting infected, and yet Colt has the audacity to think she's so self-destructive that she wanted to be infected. 

Sucking in a breath, her tail whips violently behind her. "For the love of Dygra, no, I didn't willingly get infected." Blood flees from her face, the red flush of alcohol nearly vanishing beneath the disgust and horror that stirs bile in her stomach. Her fangs flash in the sneer of a cornered animal ready to snap, defensive and bristling from a wound that's been poked. "I screwed Pierce - before anyone knew he was part of the Family. Figured if he didn't infect me the first time, he wouldn't the second." The tale she tells proves otherwise, but Thal seals her mouth with a flaming shot, not caring that she hadn't lost a round. She needs the burn, needs to clear her mouth of the poisonous name that had destroyed her from the inside out. 

Feeling a little less friendly after being flayed open and judged, Thal's tone slices the air. "Jump off the roof." She doesn't really care whether Colt does it or not, the sentiment should be more than enough to show the woman the mistake she'd made.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

She needs the whole picture, the one that Thal keeps giving to her a little at a time, each one a puzzle piece that doesn’t slot in immediately. Leaving Thal to the choices she willingly made is something Colt sure as shit would do too, so if Vesper had made that call, she doesn’t really fault him for not tussling with the void in that way, or Thal.

Unsurprisingly, Thal’s scar throbs with the fresh attention, and her biting response causes Colt to lean back into her chair, taking some pressure off the memory with the motion. ”Never know,” she shrugs, like anyone in this bar might have been inclined to willingly infect themselves, however unlikely Colt finds that. People do strange shit though, and she could imagine a scenario where someone got themselves tempted, or perhaps bound, to making the choice under a guise of free will.

Thal thankfully offers more explanation than that, and though Colt had every intention of nursing on that in silence to avoid pushing her luck, the actual truth lands uglier than the accidental affront. ”You knowingly fucked the void? When you had Vesper as an alternative?” Forget the father-killing angle, who in their right mind would choose to ride a purple alien over the demigod that could easily pass as a child of Frey in the bedroom.

Her mouth is ajar with the shock, and it’s a wonder she recovers at all to maintain their game, although the choice Thal levels her with rouses an immediate and dismissive laugh. ”Don’t be feeling vengeful when it’s your truth sugar,” Colt croons, reaching for her replenished shot. ”I got miles and miles to ride tomorrow, I can’t manage with a bum leg, pass.” She tips back the liquor around the wash of fire, pulling a face of disgust that might be extended in equal parts to Thal at this point as she sets the empty shot glass down.

Heat kicks in her gut less like a warm brush of reassurance now, and more like something wild and reckless. She didn’t mean to sour what had potentially been something angling back to fun, and it’s worth noting shit only ever gets rocky between them lately when one man is on the table, so in a show of good faith Colt tosses out an alternative. ”What if, I shave my eyebrows off? Or my hair?”

---

Round 3: Thal did her choice and Colt refused | Thal: +300 MP, 0 drunk | Colt: - 300MP, 2 drunk

Colt rolled a 2, so eyebrows or hair being shaved off is up to Thal to choose and enact.

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

It might be a good thing that Colt puts some distance between them, Thal's temper turning sharper with every word of judgement. Her tail snaps against the wood of a nearby barstool, sharp enough to accent the hiss of her seething words. "You wouldn't understand." No one can because Thal refuses to be honest with herself about it, to investigate how she might as well have asked Pierce to infect her, how she'd rather jump into the pit of chaos than face her feelings. 

Not even Colt's loss makes her feel better, a sourness coating her mouth that the alcohol hasn't washed down yet, but the proposition flares like a beacon of chaos, strong enough to be fueled by her anger. It's enough to make her stay, the punishment too enticing to pass up as she looks to the woman. "Fine." The wicked grin on her face doesn't pretend to be nice, a bitter venom there that leaves no illusion of sweetness. "I'll try not to cut something I shouldn't."

Before Colt can regret her suggestion, Thal reaches for a dagger on her hip, the blade sliding easily from its sheath while she props herself on top of a nearby stool. She grabs at the blonde tresses with slightly more force than necessary, pulling them taught to slide the knife through the strands. A few people nearby gape at them, watching with each cut as golden hair falls to the floor. The blade slides dangerously close to the skin at times, pressing into the surface without breaking through as she strips away the beautifully blonde curls until there's nothing left. Her hands move with precision despite the alcohol that nearly has her wobbling off the stool, showcasing her familiarity with the weapon. 

When Thal leans away from her work to see the unflattering shorn hair and byproducts scattering the floor, she almost feels guilty, her gaze sliding towards her glass as she downs another large swig. She props her elbow on the counter, finally slipping her dagger back onto her hip, some of the anger filing away with it. Pursing her lips, her tone loses some of its bite, leaving a muted pain veiled in a thrown accusation. "Anything else you want to hear? Maybe another life choice you'd like to criticize?"

---

Thal chooses to shave Colt's hair with her dagger. 
She then chooses 'truth.'

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

In the soft hands of six shots, offering to cut her hair sounds like a brilliant idea. Certainly a far better alternative than breaking her legs, because apparently doing neither is not on the table. Definitely not if she intends to prove to Thal she can handle her shit, which obstinately, she does. Colt isn’t prone to backing off her word or passing up on a challenge (so long as her favorite boots and riding legs are intact thank you), so she doesn’t balk at the devious glint that takes over Thal.

The blade Thal pulls free matches her smile with such precision that Colt has one brief flash of worry that she’s just offered up her neck instead of her scalp to this woman. How many barbering accidents are there in a year—Sweney Todd would say many. Her chin tilts, the motion of confidence lost as she’s abruptly yanked to the side, leashed by her choice as much as her hair now. The first bundle of gold falls with a muted crunch of hair splitting over metal, and Colt gasps to see it in such large bundles.

Fuck. What has she done?

By the time it’s over, looking a bit like Cynthia from the Rugrats, Colt has become stock still. No undue movement to make it worse, sure, but also a necessity to keep from bursting into tears, which very nearly happened at one point as she drew in a shaky breath and instead pinched her eyes shut and dissociated.

Turning, the movement oddly light, her head still prickling with absence and new awareness of the air temperature, Colt blinks over at Thal as she speaks. Oh, right. The game. What sort of hair could she cut off Thal in retribution, she wonders. ”Tell me one of your secrets.”

Deciding perhaps Tha’s stakes are a bit too high, when the round returns to her, Colt says steadily, ”truth.”

---

Colt asks Thal to share a secret
Colt picks Truth

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal can't look at Colt, can't see the result of her anger or the tears brewing in the blue gaze. The woman had asked for it, had prodded at something she shouldn't have, and Thal hadn't gotten to where she is today by letting people off easy. 

A secret seems simple enough, a small price to pay for her temper when compared to the clumps of blonde curls littering the floor. Dygra knows she has plenty of secrets to choose from - some more harmful than others. It's easy to pick something mundane and innocent while still satisfying the need for truth and honesty. 

She rolls her glass again, tilting her head to watch the ice shit and catch the firelight. "I don't have any memory from before I was turned a few years ago." Unwilling to be the butt of a joke or incur more judgement at the hands of this woman, Thal doesn't elaborate, doesn't admit that she might not remember it, but she knows enough to wish she didn't. 

Finally glancing back to Colt, her eyes refuse to settle on the chopped hair, the dagger at her side burning a hole. She doesn't blame the woman for avoiding the possibility of mortal death or injury from her dares, although her vindictive motivation is quickly losing steam, replaced by guilt that she stifles with pursed lips and a flat tone. "What's your biggest regret?"

Once Colt's truth or liquor is poured out, Thal taps a finger against her glass, taking another sip to stabilize her, despite knowing it's doing the exact opposite. "Dare."

---

Thal asks Colt what her biggest regret in life is.
Thal chooses dare.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

A hand subconsciously runs itself back and forth over her freshly cropped head, fingers brushing through the few mismatched lengths of strands that remained behind the curve of the blade. The movement stills as Thal cracks open another truth, Colt turning all ears. She is actively looking for something she might be able to exploit now, and this, disappointingly, is not it.

It is however, a terrifying notion. Erasure, in as much sense of the word as matters, and Colt tightens at the reality of it, sympathy prickling unwanted along her lips as she frowns. ”Shit—how d’ya even know who to be after that?” Thal had remade herself, clearly, but surely there’s an itch where the old here still lingers like a phantom limb.

With the focus rounding back upon her, she slides her hand from her head back to the bar top. Her fingers tap out their pattern as she digs through the files of her thoughts. ”Mm, that’d be falling in love.” Clyde, specifically, the only actual love she’s counting. ”Was married in my twenties,” he explains, offering a bit more context, certainly ensuring there’s no doubt who she means. ”Widowed now, and happier for it, but would be happier still if it’d never been.” Who would she be, if that had never happened? If she’d found someone else, someone better, or no one at all? Single still, but maybe less sharp, less fragile in the ways that matter. A pointless path to wander down, as she well knows, so she sighs and stills her impatient hand.

A smirk fits into place as Thal unexpectedly selects dare. She’s ready to amplify things a bit more now, and knowing what she does about ancients, she figures she could step on some of their natural weaknesses. ”Go stand in the big freezer all places with food got. For, mm, ten minutes or so.”

Figuring that’ll finally make the woman take a shot, Colt confidently asks, ”truth for me, when you’re done.” Which might never come to pass if she can walk away from the statue.

---

Round 4: Thal did her choice and Colt did her choice, net 0 change | Thal: +300 MP, 0 drunk | Colt: - 300MP, 2 drunk

Colt dares Thal to stand in the walk in freezer for 10 minutes
Colt chooses truth

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal shrugs her shoulders, not really sure how to answer when she's only barely started figuring out who she is, regaining the ground she'd lost while infected. She glares menacingly at her glass, ignoring the way it starts to wobble, ignoring the frustration for a past she doesn't remember, for a naive girl who still haunts her. 

Lifting her eyes back to Colt, they snag on the lack of hair again. She's not as subtle this time, leaning heavier against the bar to take some of the strain off her weakening balance. But the answer 'falling in love' snaps her gaze back to Colt's face, finally finding something they can wholeheartedly agree on. She wants to like the woman, to gripe and complain about the stupidity of men and love; but Thal can't quite tear down the walls, can't bare her truth in the same way after having her mistakes scrutinized.

The dare lands with a blink of annoyance, Thal pulling a shot across the counter. Fire erupts across the surface when she raises it to her lips - the ones almost sporting a smirk. "I don't trust you to defrost me." She throws it back, dark hair shifting to show off Colt's long forgotten artwork. It goes down easily, although her head is starting to swim dangerously. 

"Did you love Vesper?" The question slips unbidden, morbid curiosity and alcohol driven when the shot glass clinks back against the wood. It's not something she should care about, and she tells herself she doesn't, but it's hard to argue when the words linger between them.

Her tail sways in a confused dance behind her, not quite sure which direction to move as she accepts her own turn with a curt "Truth.

---

Thal drinks.
She asks if Colt loved Vesper. 
Thal picks truth.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

Admittedly, flaming shots look much better on an ancient. They don't have to blow them out or let them burn down, they just tip 'em back, even amplify the flare, and to drunk Colt this is wildly impressive. Fire licks around Thal with a lover's familiarity at her mouth, quiet awe erasing the smug that'd slowly crept in. "Probably for the best," she admits with a return tilt to her lips, although the true weight of the effect is lost with her freshly shorn head gleaming over the rise of what tries to be sly.

Her question wipes away any contentedness that'd begun to trickle back in after the mourning of her hair. She'd been happy to bury the demigod for the remainder of the night, so having him rear up again is like a jumpscare she's not ready for, and she thumps back into her chair with a glance away from the table. She's searching for some kind of life raft out in the bar, but Lou can't help her now. "No," she says after a beat, and maybe that delay or the reluctance to answer is truth enough. Colt isn't trying to mislead though, her response is the lie she's sold herself, the one she's folded up and fit into her life neatly in order to step over the hurt without straining every day. "No, love is happy, and full of hope. It's golden." So she thinks, anyway. As she told Sunjata, maybe she doesn't really know what it is after all. She touched something like it once, but perhaps that'd just been the reflection off a wedding ring taken too early. "Vesper and I only ever had something silver." She glances back, propping up an elbow on the bartop and perching her chin crookedly on the fold of her hand with a sigh. "We burned, but neither of us is fireproof."

Her other hand slides against the jeans on one leg, smoothing out wrinkles as she thinks. "What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?" She could use a laugh, and whether that's from Thal's story or Thal getting more drunk, she'll gladly have either.

When it's back to her, she tips her head with newfound (if poorly placed) confidence. "Dare."

---

Round 5: Thal loses 150 MP and gains 1 drunk, Colt gains 150 MP
Thal passed on her choice | Thal: +150 MP, 1 drunk
Colt did her choice | Colt: - 150MP, 2 drunk

Colt asks Thal to share her most embarrassing moment
Colt chooses dare

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky

Thalassa

Thal doesn't get embarrassed easily, at least not in the lighthearted way Colt might hope to hear - or she might want to share. Most of her experiences have been caused by weakness and wounded pride, her emotions leading her astray. She has to pause, eyes lifting towards the ceiling as she wades through moments and memories to find one that's too far away to hurt, one that might just be stupid enough to make her laugh. 

"I almost got taken out by a tree." Nodding her head, Thal looks to Colt, deadpan as she says, "Its branches whacked me so hard I nearly died and had to leave the others to deal with it." She ran just to save her life, then broke down in a pit over a friend who turned out not to be worth the mud soaking her pantlegs; but Hadama had come to her aid, softening the pain to something lighter, and time has eased enough of the shame she'd felt. She isn't the same person she was then. 

Accepting Colt's challenge of a dare, Thal scans the bar for something interesting. What her unfocused eyes snag on isn't something bright or entertaining, but a morbid sight that calls for disgust or revulsion. A man settles against the wall, his clothes dirty enough to make her think she can smell the stench over the lingering scent of fire and alcohol in her nose. He opens his mouth to take a bite of a garlic bread dripping with oil and butter, showing off a single cracked and crooked tooth through the mangy tangle of his beard. Thal wonders how he expects to eat the food with half a tooth. And yet... 

A cocky grin spreads across her face, pointing blatantly at the man so there's no confusion when she declares, "Kiss him full on the mouth for one minute."

Any apprehension burns away with the alcohol and amusement, a boldness - or carelessness - setting in as she reaches for another sip of bourbon. "Dare."

---

Thal dares Colt to kiss the gross man for one minute.
Thal picks dare.

Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

Trees, Colt has come to find after visiting the Greatwood a time or two, have more sentience than they tend to let on. Being flattened by one is surely not a good look regardless, and Colt's lips do quirk at the mental image of this otherwise fierce ancient being put on her add by a limb. Thal doesn't paint the story plain, and so Colt takes some creative license to assume it'd been the less intelligent sort of branch that did her in, the one that doesn't move, even when you collide with it. "Yeah, trees sure can be tricky," Colt muses around a laugh, tilting her head into her hand. The unnaturally smooth surface of her bald head which greets her fingers makes her quickly straighten up though.

Bracing for the dare, Colt finds no relief in the lack of bodily harm or assault on her footwear. The rancher has faced many challenges, plenty of which have been at the hands of men, but she's not inclined to giving away unwanted touch. Her gaze lingers where Thalassa directs it, watching for longer than necessary, a knot forming in her gut suspiciously familiar to nausea. "You sure can be a bitch," she tells Thalassa with a theatrical sigh, rising to her feet with a stomp. She can't pussy out from every challenge, not if she keeps picking dare like she's brave enough to take it, and maybe this is just proving how chickenshit she really is. Give her a runaway steer or a storm any day, not a disgusting man.

She grabs a shot of tequila from the bar as she stalks over, tipping it back in one fluid motion and leaving the glass on the bar. She doesn't swallow though, keeps it tucked in her cheeks as she sweeps the foul lips into hers without any preamble. She shoots the alcohol into his mouth with the seal of hers over his, the jolt of everything widening his eyes, but she holds him to her. The liquor, she figures, would kill most of whatever goodies he has to offer her. The rest is survival, and she ticks off the time in the back of her mind as she follows his retreats, and bows away from his grasp. It's a wet, sputtering release when she's finally done, and she has no qualm spitting on the floor and wiping the back of her hand across her lips with a thoroughness that speaks to her true disgust.

Stepping away, she grabs another tequila shot, practically gargling it as she sits back down. "Lick the earwax clean out of that woman's ears." Colt flicks a finger out, voice hoarse from the liquor burn still. She points towards an older lady sitting with what appears to be her husband, and the woman looks perfectly fine, thank you Thalassa, other than being wrinkled by age.  She's inclined to tell Thalassa to beg the woman to let her clean her ears before doing so, consent and all that, but unfortunately that feels like it's own dare, and Colt doesn't trust the lady to not agree and leave the task at merely pleading to do it. Thal has already proven she's willing to get on her hands and knees.

Still recovering from her revulsion, Colt chooses, "truth," for her turn.

---

Round 6: no changes
Thal passed on her choice | Thal: +150 MP, 1 drunk
Colt did her choice | Colt: - 150MP, 2 drunk

Colt asks Thal to lick a woman's ears free of earwax
Colt chooses truth

Colt

Hole in your heart with some good aim

code by sky