Axelle, a personal valet, Bonehilda, the prettiest-colored spider, Daoud, a Harrow Banshee arrive, following Felicia.

Ember checks command and intimidation at normal. Ember is successful.

6 Ivory Shields, Oubi the Owl arrive, following Graziella.

The hall of the Redreef Estate is almost unbearably lively. Booze provided by Raconteur Brewing (a birthday gift from Venturo) flows freely, and many of the partygoers have wasted no time in getting various degrees of sloshed, sozzled, and/or sauced. A section of the floor has been cleared for dancing, with musicians playing fast-paced songs meant for flashy steps. Ember, who's sharing the party with her twin sister Marina, is holding court at the head of the dining table, positioned under (what else) a nude portrait of herself holding a severed head.

As more guests start to filter in, Ember stands up from her seat, and clears her throat. She lifts a hand, and as if on cue, the party just seems to -- stop. The musicians cut themselves off mid-measure. Dancers stop. All eyes are on Ember for a moment. "Thank you for coming tonight," Ember says. She has a glass of rum in her hand. "Joining me and my twin sister in our birthday revels means a lot to the both of us. Now, I am not a woman for public speeches."

Ember stands there for a several almost excruciatingly long seconds, drink lifted, expression totally calm.

Then Ember drinks.

Then Ember sits down.

That was the speech.

Desma enters the main hall, tugging at her shirt and corset as if getting used to wearing 'normal' clothes and she wrinkles her nose as she looks around, seeing who she recognises before waving to Marina. "Countess Emb-" she cuts off, re-evaluating before waving to Ember properly, "Countess Ember and sister! Happy Birthhday!"

Everything Victus understood by the popular word was that the previous party at the Redreef estate had ended in total calamity. So of course, now seemed to be the best time to find himself upon the guest list. Partly to enjoy the festivities, partly to avoid another arm-related disaster. Despite the fact that merely being caught in the /aura/ of the party may well lead to scandal all by itself. Nonetheless, there was a birthday and drinking to be had. Those two things /always/ ended with fun.

The Prince gives small nods to those he recognizes, though for the most part is doing his best to appear 'normal' amongst the crowd.

Medeia comes wandering in precisely on time with just a couple Eswynders joining her - to party, not as guards. That would be absurd. Eswynders adore Redreefs. Good parties! Loryk does, however, keep an eye on the petite lady. She moves to greet Ember with a kiss to the countess' cheek once she's sitting. "Happy birthday, I shall try to stay sober enough to tend any wounds. No promises." A smile and 'happy birthday' are offered to Marina as well before she's off to find a drink.

A bodysnatcher working overtime to be here arrives, following Mailys.

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers, Moonsilver, the pale-feathered raven arrive, following Raven.

Savio might have pregamed the event, but since his general demeanor is hard to distinguish from most drunk people anyway, who can tell? He's not sloshed enough to fall off his heels, that might come later, but he does have some of that fine Raconteur offering in hand and is chanting "DRINKS! DRINKS! DRINKS!" as he scampers toward Medeia, and is trying to press, yes, a drink, into her hand. Even though she just said she'd stay sober for healing.

Thus far, Martinique is restraining herself. A little. The night is young, but also it wouldn't do to use up all her endurance and liver power before the contest even begins. She has seated herself at the large table with the two birthday girls, and seems to be engaged and lively this evening, eager for A Redreef Party with all that such a thing may entail. Since it is Ember's birthday, she's focusing on rum. As guests begin coming in earnest she stands, flashing bright greetings to those she knows. Medeia in particular is given a sign of 'get to drinking' since the last Ember birthday she attended she ccouldn't. She gives Savio's efforts an approving nod.

Catalana walks in on the arm of Wash, a soft murmur to him, "Hopefully it won't be -too- scandalou-" Too late. Catalana has noticed the gruesome portrait. She internally cringes before releasing Wash's arm. "Do try not to get too drunk." She politely smiles and nods to the Redreefs before going to join Medeia "I think staying sober is the safest option."

Valerian has already found a cup of rum for himself, offering a muted clap of palm against wrist after a beat passes, applauding Ember's speech before drinking with her to the birthday celebrations. "Happy birthday, countess!" he says, looking over her head at her portrait even as he speaks to her. With his birthdya duties complete, the young lord shrinks back in among the crowd, hiding behind his cup in abject terror.

Wash says, "Is there such a thing as too drunk?" Wash asks. "I'm just here to socialize. Doubt there is anything new to taste.""

Raven makes her way in showing up fashionably late and leaving her retinue in the Ebb and Flow. With a present for the hostess in hand she pauses and loiers near the entryway to allow her verdant gaze to travel over the eddying sea of faces.

Nimue checks command and intimidation at daunting. Nimue fails.

Ember leans into the cheek-kiss from Medeia, and offers an air-kiss of her own in turn. It's only proper for noblewomen to do the whole air-kisses thing. Especially for a Lycene-born like Deia and a half-Lycene-by-blood like Ember. The Countess nods but doesn't smile at any of the birthday wishes directed her way. Despite this being a raucous party of her own design, she still seems like she'd rather die than have fun at it.

When Victus arrives, Ember stands up. "Your Grace," she says, dipping herself into a deep curtsy. "You honor me with even a moment of your time. I imagine Her Highness Princess Alarissa is staying well away, but you can assure her, I've told Lady Nimue that if she drunkenly removes any more arms, then whoever suffers it will get to remove one of /hers/ in turn." Ember then pauses, and looks around. "...where did Lady Nimue get off to? She's so damned tall, you can usually see her from anywhere in the room..." This momentary loss of Nimue seems to alarm Ember.

Mailys arrived without her usual, robed chronicler. There was a good chance she was in the middle of something, and reminded of the time. Lots of familiar faces as smiled to and waved at. Talk of drinking is blood in the water for were the hostess might be. To Ember, finally spotted in the crowd, Mailys lifts a hand to wave, "Happy Birthday, Countess!"

Princess Graziella is present, she enters the party dressed in an array of fineries and oddities, from the skull pendant to the squid boots.. she is prepared to make herself seen without stealing the scene. Subtle in her movements and gestures, she is like an afterthought with all the drinking and distractions taking over the party goers. Quietly, but with an appreciative smirk on her sharp features, the Princess wanders her way deeper into the crowd. She removes a flask from her belt and takes a few sips from whatever was inside, not making any moves for to join the drinking contest.

Marina is quite contently playing second fiddle... or, perhaps, simply biding her time. Waiting for the party to become a /party/ before she puts forth any effort. In fact, between the long coat that reaches her calves, and her dark hat, worn at only a somewhat jaunty angle, she's behaving downright respectably. Boringly.

That can't possibly be true. She must be planning something. She's enjoying the free flowing booze at a reasonable rate, because... well, she can't be one of the first stumbling or passing out at her shared party! No, instead, she's simply content to let her eyes dart, dance, and take in the goings on, drinking pace eased by the repeated lifts of her glass in a toast to the various arrivals and activities. Biding her time. Waiting. After all, you need to let the party proceed apace /before/ it gets going for real.

Felicia prowls into the hall among the other guests, and can't quite help but squint at that portrait, tilting her head to one side before giving a bark of laughter that might just indicate approval.

Graziella takes a flask painted with the sigil of House Pravus from a handy dandy candy tin in a custom leather belt.

Wash has joined the comfortable couches close to the fireplace.

Once Ember drinks,

And Ember sits down:

Nimue bolts /up/, clapping vigorously for the taciturn Countess and her twin.

"Happy birthday, Em & Marina!" the beaming noblewoman chirps. Her deep, dark waterfall of lustrous hair's been woven into a multi-limbed crown of braids around her head. She's wearing a sleeveless, deep crimson gown with a halter collar tightly wound around around her neck, and unlike /most/ of her gowns, it is utterly without a cleavage-baring plunge. This is because it is instead a stretch of ephemeral material that seems to have been designed with two express goals in mind:

* Hug her torso closely, and;

* Show off her black merry widow and the network of dark, toned muscles it in turn displays.

Once it reaches her hips, the gown flares into swirling, crimson and mauve damask slit to the upper thigh on either side, ending around her calves.

Across from Martinique, the Tallest Voice's applause gradually drops away so she can return to what she's been filling the /rest/ of this precious, pre-contest time with: trying to psyche her favorite General and future drinking rival out by staring /intently/ into her eyes, sneering.

Snarling.

/Growling/.

-- giggling, nigh-constantly, because she can't seem to help herself.

Considering that her celebratory outburst is the first time she's made much noise of any /other/ kind for a while, she has been stealthier /here/ than any party she's ever attended to date.

"Don't worry," she assures without taking her eyes away -- or refraining from pointing at them, then slowly pointing at Martinique's -- "I PROMISE your arm is safe, your Grace."

Victus offers something resembling a smile to the Birthday Baroness. Something that at least leads to the corner of his mouth ticking... upward. Upwardish, that is. Stowing his hands into the pockets of his coat, a futile attempt to look 'casual' for the occasion, Victus dips into a short bow toward Ember. "Princess Alarissa was very polite in her declination. Usually when she's mad she just goes straight to the swears and other things you don't ever hear in public. So I imagine she isn't too mad. Besides the prerequisite mount of mad, at least." His eyes are drawn to the... gruesome but interesting portrait. "That's nice. Fucking bold, and nice."

Wash has left the comfortable couches close to the fireplace.

Jayne, Burly Sailor leaves, following Wash.

"Savio!" Medeia sounds genuinely pleased to see him and accepts the drink he presses into her hands. "Lady Catalana, a lovely surprise. How have you been?" The lady eases into socializing happily.

Terese enters being escorted in with Griffin. Terese has dressed up in a gown and leans into Griffin for support as they make there way in. She whispers to something to him as the enter

Raven has joined the a wooden bench ringing an indoor coral garden.

3 Arakkoan Free Guards arrives, following Giorgio.

"It was a bit more provocative before the man was actually fucking dead," Ember says to Victus, looking at the portrait of herself swinging Ivan Helianthus's head. "Painted by Prince Tyrus. As I recall, in Eswyndol's garden. I believe I was holding a... melon, or something. All the more impressive that he rendered the Duke's likeness so accurately."

Catalana fondly smiles at Medeia, "Well enough. Busy as I imagine you understand." Glancing back to the portrait, she dryly comments. "I forget how the baroness dislikes subtly."

For contrast to Nimue, Martinique maintains much more serenity. Not quite at the level Marina is not at all suspiciously managing, but she will mee the snarls and growls with a pleasant smile and the occasional glass raised in toast. She has made a few choice comments on the nature of Nimue's dress, just to rattle the lady's composure a bit. Or try.

"ME!" Savio cheers along with Medeia, yeah, he's already tipsy. He blows her a kiss and another drink has found its way to his hand, and this time Mailys is the target. He's impending! Arrival is impending! "Oops," he's sloshed the mug a little bit, whatever, it does not diminish his cheer. "Drinks!!" Catching wind of the painting being discussed, he takes a moment to peer at it, regarding the portrait with appreciative tranquility like it's a lovely if slightly intense landscape.

Desma is clearly out of her depth here in the social setting and her eyes switch from person to person as she tries to work out who she actually knows and who looks like they might actually talk to her. Nimue's applause draws her attention and she finds herself staring a little at the tall woman.

Of course, this is Griffin's home! He takes the Princess up to give Ember and Marina her best wishes and looks around for a place to sit.

Entering into the hall comes Giorgio Pontelaeus. He enters with the air of one who is at least familiar enough with the estate to have been here once or twice before, his thumbs hooked into his belt as he takes a pause long enough to survey those already here. A nod of greeting is sent to Savio before he shifts around the perimeter to retrieve a drink safely away from the drinks for those competing.

Valerian listens intently to Ember's explanation of the portrait, looking between her and it in bewilderment. There are clearly unvoiced questions, but he takes another sip of rum to quench his curiosity for the time being. The boy is easily lost amid the bustle of the party, but emerges closer to Catalana. He looks to her, the pointedly looks toward the portrait, raising his eyebrows. "...How about that?" he says quietly, with a mischievous giggle.

"Your Grace," Felicia offers politely with a sketch of a half-bow for Victus,"...I see the drinking competition is going to be stiff." and a broader grin and respectful dip of her head for Ember to accompany the words,"Birthday baroness."

Raven makes her way in and beams as she spies Savio. Her hand is full so there's no waving. She finds where ever the Birthday girl's presents are piling up and adds her own and then finds a seat.She flashes a smile to Griffin and Terese when they cross her line of way and Valerian's giggling gets a double-take and an amused twist of her lips as she settles onto a bench.

Catalana hushedly assures Valerian, "Your painting of Wash with his boatload of scabie covered rats is more subtle than that." After a beat, she warns Valerian, "We do not need any naked bloodlusty art in the hall."

Mailys checks dexterity at normal. Mailys is successful.

"Luckily it takes quite a bit to piss off the dead." Victus muses toward Ember, before his attention shifts out into the rest of the hall. Mostly people watching, although he does bring a hand up to cover one of his ears. There was quite a bit of chatter, not all of it quiet. "Good evening." He offers to Felicia, casting a wary glance toward the drinking table.

Philippe arrives, following Orland.

3 First Legion Centurions, 3 Setarcan Royal Shields arrive, following Patrizio.

Savio responds to the conservative nod his brother sent his way with the polite encouragement of, "Shut up and get drunk Giorgio!" He didn't even say anything. Poor Giorgio! Savio blows a kiss to Raven as well. Orland come get your man, he's unsupervised.

Saving Savio from being burned as he swayed into Mailys, she moved one arm out of the way and grabbed his arm with her free hand to support. No, domino effects yet. The night is still early. "Giorgio!" She called to him, "Your brother needs-" But Savio manages to get the point across. It was time for them to drink.

As their host begins to speak about the artwork Graziella can't help but turn her attention toward the canvas and the Pravus levels the masterpiece with a thoughtful stare as she mentions, "Huh." Her voice floats along in a lilting deadpan, singsongy without any proper pacing as she muses, "I have heard of this painting... first I've seen it. . Marvelous, daring." She nods with an empty-eyed smile and her own energy is so aloof, practically vacant of emotions as she insists, "I really love it."

The Pravus Princess takes another sip from her shiny blue flask and then turns her attention to Ember and Marina as she lofts the flask, "Happy Birthday, to the both of you. I admit, after the tales of the last party... I had to see this one with my own eyes." S

Valerian giggles, hunching his shoulders up defensively at Catalana's warning. "I don't think I could manage it. Even the rats are a bit much," he assures her. "I just- thought it was funny." He sips his drink, a pleasant warmth about his cheeks already. It doesn't take much to get a man of his size drunk.

Terese Greets Ember respectfully and hands her the gift she brought saying, "Happy Birthday Countess Ember, I got you this hairpin for Karina's shop." After exchanging greetings and giving the gift she follows Griffin to the place he has picked out to sit

"The IMPORTANT thing is that he captured your raw ferocity /perfectly/," Nimue proudly adds to Ember and Victus' conversation. After one more little snarl - and smile - towards Martinique, she reaches to touch the General's hand then drifts down the length of the table with a goblet full of fruit nectar in hand. "Please give Princess Alarissa my fondest regards!" she calls towards Victus with a wave-- and once she looks away, she finds herself confronted with eyes staring right at /her/.

Which just prompts her to glide closer to Desma with an arching brow, a lilting, "I would be /happy/ to pose for you, if you prefer~," and a playful smile. "So you can see a future drinking champion in all her glory."

Orland has joined the a red and black tiled dancefloor, with fast-paced and raucous music playing.

Desma checks composure at normal. Desma is successful.

Viviana checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 39 higher.

There is, sometimes, no hiding when one is comfortably late. It's not fashionably late, since Patrizio Pravus is not one /for/ fashion most of the time, nor artistically - lest he intrude upon his cousin Sebastian's turf. It's comfortably late, as the prince comes strolling in with his escort, the glance about of those jade eyes as he's looking for any familiar faces, though that does come to an end before he's making his way over towards the host and honouree. "My lady," he says, with warmth, to Ember. "Happy birthday, and may you have many, many happy returns."

Patrizio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 16 higher.

Desma coughs as Nimue moves closer and Desma cranes her neck up to look at the tall Redreef. "Well... I was planning to try and win myself so maybe I should pose?" she says, resting a hand on her hip defiantly as she playfully stares down (up?) Nimue.

Brows lift upon Giorgio's brows as Mailys begins to call out to him, and then Savio further makes known just what is going on. That casual stride toward a drink slows and then stalls and it is clear to any onlooker that Giorgio is considering turning to walk right back out of the door of the hall and leave this disaster before Savio really has a chance to get going. But... in the end... Giorgio fixes that practiced smile upon his features and continues on over toward Mailys and Savio. "Already drunk, Savio? Did you start the contest early?"

Catalana agrees with a minimal nod at Valerian's words. "I worry he would hang it in our suite and I'd be forced to look at the rats every morning. What a horrible way to wake up." Looking to the painting again, she remarks softly, "While I know the traditionalists have little to no interest in meeting and considering a diplomatic end to our differences, it does just seem to be throwing caution to the wind and encouraging a greater divide."

Viviana is following smartly -- perhaps -- in her cousin's better, fancier, more peer-ier shadow. Viviana's here for the general avoidance of the social niceties and she moves straight for the refreshments table. She needs to prove nothing, of course, but she has a MIGHTY and POWERFUL thirst.

As she works on her drink, Marina finds herself constantly glancing up to the portrait... then to her sister... back to the portrait... lips slowly curling into a thoughtful frown, "I don't see why it's so controversial. You're not holding his head like a puppet. You could have had it painted with you holding his head like a puppet. That would have been entirely novel!" She sighs out heavily. Still, as she looks around at the forming crowds of chatter and discussion, it seems some unheard chime sounds, and her glass is set down, hands moving to her coat to begin working buttons open, until that heavy sailing coat spreads open to reveal a clinging, sleek black dress. And then her drink's recovered for another sip. She flashes a grin Graziella's way "Oh! Planning to compare this one to the last? And planning to stay sober enough to remember it clearly enough to do so? Daring! I approve of the ambition!"

Orland arrives late! LATE. Probably because someone sent him a missive to show the hell up and get his man? Unsupervised Savio can be fun! Orland doesn't want to really dull the fun after all. His eye swivels around at all the drinking and he scoffs, "She wasn't fucking kidding." He admires the barrels of ale and the various drinks, finding himself with rum in hand and wandering the crowd, not intentionally bee-lining it for Savio, but maybe pretending he came ALONE. Cause he did. Someone didn't wake him up!

Ember accepts Terese's gift, and for a long moment, stares the Valardin Princess in the eyes. Then she looks down. "Thank you, Your Highness," she says, as cordial as can be. The other well-wishes are met with nods, some with knowing quirks of the Countess's eyebrow. She steps back to her seat, but doesn't sit just yet. "Attention, all of you, please."

"To celebrate yet another year of no one on the face of Aion being able to kill myself or my sister, I am staging a contest." As if on cue, Redreef house staff begin covering the dining table with shot glasses, and pouring rum. Not just any rum. Baronial Reserve -- Ember's private stock, small-batch stuff made only for the rulers of Redreef Shores. (Sometimes, it pays to rule a domain.) Very dark. /Very/ strong.

"The winner of this contest will receive the most special prize that I can possibly give them," Ember says, before adding: "...without endangering my own impending nuptials, anyway." She draws in a breath, then looks out at the room. "There's no shame in hitting your limit -- only in not trying to surpass it. I declare the contest officially started." The servants are still pouring out what seems like hundreds of shots of rum.

"May the best drinker win."

Savio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 35 higher.

Savio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 57 higher.

Savio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 40 higher.

Forest green eyes sparkle and widen.

"Okay, sure."

Nimue's smile widens until there's a hint of pearl while her eyes flick from that defiant hand back to Desma's eyes.

"Pose~--" she gladly accepts... only for Ember to announce the commencement of THE CONTEST.

"... but make it /quick/, so we can sort this out."

Terese checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 25 higher.

Martinique checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 22 higher.

Terese checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Martinique checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 32 higher.

Viviana checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 25 higher.

Terese checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 15 higher.

Martinique checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 22 higher. Martinique rolled a critical!

Viviana checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 19 higher.

"Here, here!" Patrizio's definitely all in for this kind of a contest - especially with something that is delightful and rare to be drinking, though there's an appreciative eye towards the darkness of the drink. This doesn't at all distract him from those things that come /with/ being himself, and noticing that he's being trailed by familiar faces, nods for Viviana and Orland as they're slipping in behind him, a chuckle that slips from his throat at the matter as he's moving to take up the drink...

Felicia checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 46 higher.

Orland checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 40 higher.

Orland checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Felicia checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 51 higher.

Nimue checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 13 higher.

Victus checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 20 higher.

Orland checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 19 higher.

Nimue checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 9 higher.

Patrizio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 1 lower.

Felicia checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 36 higher.

Nimue checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 11 higher.

Victus checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 39 higher.

Raven is settled out of the way, allowing Ember's peers to greet and offer well wishes first. Being a good commoner she allows the Birthday girl to mingle with her peers. She then rises and moves to join the other contestants. Patrizio's given a broad and approving grin that's distinctly wolfish before she takes her spot.

Victus checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 38 higher.

Desma checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 37 higher.

Desma checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Desma checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 37 higher.

Raven checked stamina + survival at difficulty 10, rolling 36 higher.

Raven checked stamina + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 48 higher.

Raven checked stamina + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 43 higher.

Viviana has joined the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

The contest is kicking off! Martinique is ready. She will however sweep by Orland and Savio to give them bright grins in greeting as the young knight arrives. "Time to put all of you under the table I suppose!" She states to the two men but also the other drinkers in the assembly as she readies for her first shot of...whatever is going to be inflicted on them. Hopefully Ember won't troll them with Malort or something.

Catalana has joined the comfortable couches close to the fireplace.

"Mm. Rum." Felicia's listening to Ember's speech. Truly. She's just doing it while angling towards the table that's being festooned with alcohol. A rub of her hands together in delight as she goes, finding a free spot to plonk herself down at within easy reach of the booze.

As the party gets into full swing, Medeia finds a set somewhat out of the way and nurses her drink. Martinique can't be mad at her for not drinking if she is drinking. Slowly.

Felicia has joined the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

Valerian moves to sip again, looking down into his cup with shock as he discovers he's already drained his rum. Perhaps the spirit of the event is getting to him. "Don't worry about it today," he offers, reaching out to comfort his cousin with at ouch of her shoulder. "The cat is out of the bag." He looks up at the portrait, then to Catalana again. "It's all out of the bag!" As Ember calls for attention again, he stands up straighter, his smiling face pointed right to her.

Desma has joined the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

"NO," Savio lies to Giorgio when his older brother asks if he started the contest early, and then scampers off away again before Giorgio can try to get sense into him, because that would be terrible. Or maybe he's just trying to get closer to... "Orland!" Everyone is subjected to a brief moment of PDA as Savio greets the other Lord Amadeo with a hug and a smooch. Then Martinique of course gets a big grin, "You want to put money on it?" Because what can make drinking better, except for losing all his money while drinking?

Terese surprisingly joins in on the drinking contest drinking the drinks handed to her one after another with no trouble yet, chuckling as she tries to keep up with the others

Savio has joined the a red and black tiled dancefloor, with fast-paced and raucous music playing.

The first shot goes down very easily indeed, and those jade eyes are closed, the smile lingering on Patrizio's features when he's perhaps making as much a show of them as anyone else around him. The second though... No. That expression that finds Patrizio's features as he's clearly /feeling/ the effects of how quickly he's quaffed that first shot and... no. His hand waves briefly as he's clearly tapping out, as he's laughing warmly. "Some of us," he pronounces, with a faint hiss to his words, "ought not have started ourselves off earlier over paperwork in our offices." On the other hand, one might well notice how the prince palms another shot glass /anyway/ to ease back and savour while he's watching the others at their game.

Viviana accepts her shots -- downs them in quick succession: one, two, and three. And with that, she idles around, spins on her heel and saunters off to throw herself into a discreet corner that's best for slouching and crowd-watching.

Prince Victus takes his position. Dark, dark rum was just his brand of alcohol. The kind that seemed as though it might be trying to strangle you on its way down. Every shot he takes provokes an immediate reaction. A curled wrist covering his mouth, a squint of his eyes, and a full-body rattling that takes him a moment for recovery. It ends with a growl and the second shot being swiped off the table. Repeat.

Brown eyes narrow a bit. "You're on. Say a thousand silver? For each of you." Martinique will challenge. The first shot goes easy. The second, pretty well too. But the third? It vanishes almost as soon as it hits the glass and Martinique bows with a flourish.

Raven ahhhhhs, "Thank gods it's rum." She flashes a grin and winks at Patrizio, "I'll win and be sober enough to carry you home, your highness, fear not. Rum

Raven ahhhhhs, "Thank gods it's rum." She flashes a grin and winks at Patrizio, "I'll win and be sober enough to carry you home, your highness, fear not. Rum is the nectar of my life!"

Orland hoists his cup to Patrizio, "General," he nods, "It's been a while. Well, no time to talk tonight eh? Tonight is all about getting hammered!" PARRRRTAYYYY. Orland might even BOOP Patrizio's cup, as he wanders in further, pivoting around Martinique, his eyes tossed back over toward where Savio is, grinning at Martinique, "I'll have you know I'm more liable to get /on/ the table---" then he's being called for and he twists about to meet Savio's call, "You found me!" He says with a laugh, cause he wasn't really trying to hide either, his arms hugging and then the smooch is accepted. There's a look between the two, "We /should/ put money on it. Of course we /should!/"

Graziella shakes her head with a blase smile for Marina as she responds, "I drink, just not..." And she gestures breezily at the contest as it comes into existence, "Not like this, don't have a taste for it." All the same, she is putting on a mild buzz as she takes another birdish sip from her flask before explaining, "But I love watching, people are endlessly entertaining. And a contest? Perfectly splendid."

Orland grins at Martinique, "A thousand? That's childs play! Let's do ten, ten each." Orland counters!

Raven's head tilts back and she smoothly pours it down her gullet in rapid succession, "I take that back. Rum ain't meant for shots like whiskey or whatever hateful grains squeeze out."

As the shots start to go down in earnest, Ember settles back into her seat. She's of course wearing full shadowmeld armor to her own birthday party (though her handmaidens have convinced her not to wear the helmet). She nurses her own glass of rum -- a proper glass, not a shot -- more slowly. There seems to be genuine enjoyment in her eyes, despite the hardness of her stare, as she watches everyone drink, and drink, and drink. Her amber eyes briefly seek out Medeia off to one side, and she wags her eyebrows once at the Eswynd.

Patrizio actually does clink his glass back against Orland's as he's easing off to the side, with a smile for Raven at the declaration. "You're assuming I'm going to get blacked-out drunk," he reminds her with that grin, and even without a glance to the sextet of soldiers who're likely, too, to be up to the task if /all/ of them should be that inebriated. And then the glass is drawn to his lips for a sip, this time, rather than a gulp.

Shots shots shots! Savio knocks 'em back and agrees with Orland and Martinique, "Ten thousand each! We will pay the one who is last standing among us!"

"-- /Marti/!!" Nimue gasps after throwing her first shot back, having been preoccupied with racing over to the table, then attempting to psyche Desma out as well. Via grinning, mostly.

"I /love/ your bravery-- even if I WILL have to trounce you today...!" she beams. "Just like--"

Before more shit can be talked, Orland ups the ante; her eyes bounce between he and Martinique briefly before she winds up back on the latter, grinning even bigger-- and prouder, of Martinique's willingness to risk money on a drinking contest.

Like a /noble/ might!

Raven says, "Well, Aye, your highness. The fuck else is the point of a drinking contest? Well. Besides separatin suckers from their coin but there ain't any suckers here surely."

Desma cracks her neck, and shakes out her limbs as if she is planning on doing laps or something. She lines the three up and One! Two! Three! downs each of them in rapid succession before banging her hand against the table! "Gods that is STRONG!" she gasps out aloud.

"Ten thousand it is then! Anyone else want to join in? I'll take all of you down!" Judging by the flush starting to color her pale cheeks, she may not, in fact, do this--but she'll give it a real try. "You may be tall Lady Nimue, but I know your weaknesses!"

Orland looks over to Savio with a grin, "We've not properly partied like this since we were young." YOUNG. Like three years ago young. But hey, he was 18 at the time, that's young to someone in his twenties now, right?! But he's probably also at the same time teasing Savio in his own way. He takes up the first three shots and clinks glasses with Savio too, as he knocks them all back. "WOOO," he looks for the hostess, "Now this is what I'm talking about. THIS RUM. IS IT!"

Felicia drawls over her rum,"I'm just here to see how well his grace swims across the hall floor... it's been a few years since the last time. Maybe his breaststroke has improved." in an amused tone, roughened by the alcohol burning its way down her throat. A finger flick from the Harrow knight,"I'll join that bet." she offers.

Orland drops Beverage Barrels.

Desma foolishly perhaps, or emboldened by surviving the first few shots calls out. "I am in on the bets too!"

Nimue goes from smacking the table with both palms so she can lean and whisper to Martinique, to jerking back to whisper at Desma-- wearing the same big, cocksure grin the whole time. "Mutually assured destruction it /is/, my Dame--!" she barks back at Martinique, much louder before her attention's drawn away again.

Viviana has left the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

Patrizio has joined the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

Desma checks composure at normal. Botch! Desma fails completely.

Savio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 21 higher.

Victus checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 10 higher.

Desma checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 5 higher.

Raven checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 17 higher.

Orland checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 18 higher.

Felicia checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 2 higher.

Terese checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 10 lower.

Martinique checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 35 higher.

Marina springs up to her feet as the drinking contest begins, applauding delightedly. That long coat is shrugged off as she stands, revealing her clinging dress in full. Her eyes alight as she watches the drinking contest unfold... and eyes light up further as the side-betting begins. It seems she hasn't picked a favorite to cheer on yet, so her hoots and whistles are evenly distributed.

Nimue checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 31 higher.

Felicia leans back in her seat to mumble something to her valet, and when the lady returns, she deposits her silver in the barrel with a brief smirk at the paper which accompanies it. The fresh drink taken up with a silent 'salute' for the table before it's downed.

Mailys has joined the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

Another shot of the good stuff down the hatch. Martinique honestly prefers wine, being a perfidious Oathlander by birth, but she has warmed to the preferred beverage of the Isles even as that preferred beverage warms her. "Are we all in?" She asks, flailing her cup around a bit though somehow not sloshing on anybody. Yet.

Desma suddenly turns bright red at something that Nimue has whispered to her and to distract herself from it downs her next drink... which doesn't really work at all.

Another sip, as those jade eyes of Patrizio's are watching the merriment. Now that he's not attempting at all to pound back shots like some of the others, there's clear enjoyment on Patrizio's features as he's enjoying the fine, aged rum in smaller doses.

Another shot has Victus' throat burning. He's holding it down with some difficulty, coughing hoarsely through a closed fist. Luckily, he's not down for the count just yet. His arm covers the lower half of his face while he takes a moment to just regain his composure.

Valerian finds himself another cup of rum, quickly moving away from the rowdy contest that now dominates the party! He sneaks out to the corner, sinking into a plush chair beside the first casualty of the contest, Patrizio. "Hello," he says, with a lift of his glass. He studies the man for a moment, trying to find some detail to place him. "Lord Valerian Kennex," he offers, introducing himself with a small bow of his head.

Valerian has joined the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

Raven pours another shot and isssues a resounding, full throated "Braaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrp!" to declare her dominance and intimidate rivals. OR more reasonably just to make room for more rum.

Ember is still in her chair, and she looks over to her twin sister. "Lady Marina," she calls over, "who do you favor?" She motions at the ongoing drinking contest, and actually flashes a smile. The thing is, Ember doesn't look any more friendly when she's smiling. Her grin actually makes her look a little scarier.

Next round starts and Terese is ready to take the shot but looks sick. "Oh god, I don't think I can drink that," she says looking rather pale and putting the shot back down and pushing it far away from her

Catalana watches Valerian get himself another glass of rum and a furrowed worried line forms on her brow. She doesn't say anything, but she makes sure she has one eye on him. Just in case.

Nimue /throws/ the next shot down the hatch and slams the glass down s hard her first three rattle, tip, and roll. Canting her head at Desma's sudden flush, she quirks a threaded brow and leans against the table.

"Are the terms acceptable, my Lady?" she wonders, bright-eyed and demure.

A fresh shot! Savio drinks it, and then turns earnestly and admittedly, somewhat drunkenly, to Orland. "Don't let me throw up on anybody's shoes. Don't let me get too drunk and start roasting people in songs. Don't let me start making unreasonable honest confessions that nobody actually wants to hear about. That time your favorite mug was broken all over the floor and I told you a fifteen minute story explaining how the cats did it, actually it was just me, I was trying to climb on the table, I'm sorry."

"My lord." Patrizio smiles warmly to Valerian as the lord introduces himself, and the prince presses his palm to his breastplate, dipping his head briefly. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He, too, lifts his glass in salute, even as there's the minor effort to see what's afoot in the drinking still.

Orland suddenly becomes the officiator of the all the bets - because he DID GROW UP IN A CASINO! Or at least spent a god awful amount of time there. "That's it! No more entries! Put your money where your mouth is! In the barrel!" He tosses a pouch of silver into one of the barrels, "We'll close it in and the last person standing better remember to take it." He laughs, and then gets another shot delivered to him, clinking it with Savio's glass again. Orland looks over at Savio, frowning, "You lied to me?! About my favorite mug?!"

Savio points at nothing in particular and distracts Orland cleverly from that question. "Look over there!"

What Savio points at is, quite accidentally, two of Ember's handmaidens attempting to discreetly smoke haze. They go wide-eyed when caught.

Orland looks over his shoulder, "What?!" He spots Raven and waves to her, also Giorgio, "Hey Giorgio! Ohh Mailys! Hi!" He grins and then calls to Ember, "That painting of you! It's so boss! But how did the artist make the head look like it was spinning? Or is that just me?!"

There's a brief pause in movement, Marina in the middle of removing her gloves, in accordance with... whatever rhythm is ticking away in her head, pausing with one glove off, the other half off, middle fingertip clenched in her teeth as her eyes dart to her sister and freeze. Eyes dart back to the contestants... glove is dropped from her teeth, "Why... the winner, darling sister! Always the winner!"

"Prince Tyrus is VERY talented," Ember calls back to Orland.

"Who?!" Orland calls back to Ember, then spots the maids with the haze, gesturing: Hook us up!

Desma is still flushing brightly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand to try and hide her embaressment before she nods. "Terms. Acceptable."

6 Ivory Shields, Oubi the Owl leave, following Graziella.

Raven smiles broadly and blows a big, affectionate and not at all sexy *mwah!* to Orlandand and then Savio. She points to Marina and looks to Ember, "That shouldn't count as an answer. Like saying: no matter where you go-there you are."

Medeia looks around and decides that there is in fact a point at which one can be /too/ sober for the happenings around them. She stops nursing her drink and finishes it quickly. There's probably no need for concern. The master physician is capable of setting a broken bone a few drinks in. Maybe.

Renata arrives, following Nazmir.

The two handmaidens look between one another, both mortified at being caught, both clearly unsure if they should hand it over. One of them (Ione, the shorter of the two; the other one is Hildegarde) very tentatively hands the haze cigarillo out toward Orland.

Savio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 20 higher.

Martinique checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 10 higher.

Nimue checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 7 lower.

Victus checked stamina + survival at difficulty 25, rolling 21 higher.

Savio checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 15 higher.

Martinique checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 3 lower.

Orland checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 19 higher.

Raven checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 24 higher.

Nimue checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 1 lower.

Felicia checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 16 higher.

Desma checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 16 higher.

Victus checked stamina + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 14 higher.

She was doing so well before! But this last shot...somehow this went from the pleasing endorphins of getting very drunk to the painful whirling of okay maybe that's too much--Martinique coughs on her shot, staggers into Nimue, sets her half-full glass down with a clunk as she uses a nearby table for support. For just a few minutes. Just need to stand here for a bit and stare glassy eyed and not throw up on Savio's shoes.

There's nothing like being fashionable late .. or at least that's the excuse that Nazmir would probably use when he makes his way into the main hall of the Redreef Estate, the Princess Renata on one of his arms. There's quiet little murmurings happening between the two, though once they've stepped into the party, he's turning his attention from her and to the gathered crowd, letting his gaze sweep over those that are present. Then, he's looking back to her, grin tugging to his lips, "Alright, where to first?"

Fifth shot. Or sixth? There was little point in keeping count, Victus wouldn't know /how/ to count eventually. He's using the table as a counterweight now, palm flat on the edge to keep himself steady lest he end up on his back far too early.

Catalana watches as they all get progressively drunker. Stepping towards Valerian she apologizes quietly. "I'm going to head home before someone loses a limb. If you get in trouble, send word and we'll come rescue you." She gives polite apologies to the hosts before slipping out the doors and back to the Kay.

Catalana has left the comfortable couches close to the fireplace.

2 Kennex corsairs, Jane, a nameless overwrought highstrung pygmy goat leave, following Catalana.

Orland watches Martinique wobble and he manages to put back another shot, "Do you need a pillow for under the table Martinique?!" He grins and then ooh there is haze, his fingers reaching out to take the haze, "Thank you." He pops them a little silver for it and then starts to puff, passing it around by first offering the spliff to Savio, "This probably won't help." But it's offered anyway!

Nimue isn't even participating in the side bet, and she throws handfuls of silver - courtesy of her new handmaiden Aster, who weaves her way over to supply her with great haste - into the barrel just because it's /there/, and she is feeling particularly pleased with herself. She spins from beaming down at Desma to scoop up her drink, throws it back--

-- keeps leaning backwards--

-- freezes, just for a moment--

-- and then falls straight to her back amidst a flurry of wheeling arms, thanks to the untimely - if never really unwelcome - addition of a collision with a staggering Martinique.

On the other side of her terrible collapse and the syrup-slow, "Nnnnnoooooo--!" ringing throughout, she gradually finds her way towards shuddering-- with raucous, giggly laughter.

It's okay to throw up on Savio's shoes. They're sickening! The owner seems unaware of the peril though, punching Orland in the arm and pointing at the handmaiden like hello, get on that! He's knocked back the next shot with a gentle "oof," and doesn't seem to realize Martinique's in trouble until Orland speaks to her. "What? Oh nooo! Oh no!" What to do about helping her. "...You wanna toke?"

Raven is standing along with the other contestants to the drinking contest, her cheeks have a bit of color to them but her gaze is bright and alert. Enough so she spots Nazmir and Renata. She booms. "YOU!" and brandes a finger at Nazmir threateningly before breaking into a cheek grin and saluting with a glass before she belts it down, and sets the glass down to be refilled "Welcome!" she greets Nazmir and Renata cheerily.

There's a pause. Martinique looks at the haze, and at Savio. Then: "Yes." This decision is reached firmly, much more firmly than her walking pace to claim and inhale from the commandeered spliff.

Felicia's half-lidded green eyes turn towards the falling competition, her own shot held to her lips briefly. There's a quirk of the corner of her lips before she tips her own back and sets the glass down. The color in her pale cheeks might be high at this point and she's humming under her breath tunelessly. For now at least she manages to keep her seat however.

Orland checks dexterity and performance at hard. Orland is successful.

The hand maidens are never getting their spliff back. It's gone from Orland puff puff to Savio puff puff to Martinique now. Sorry handmaidens!

Terese watches the others still drinking still looking quite pale as she tries to smile and still have fun at the party

Orland exhales out his breath of haze as he starts to WIGGLE JIG on the floor. Yes, there's music, raucous fast playing music! Don't expect a street rat to stand still if he can JIG to some music where the noble stuffy rules can be turfed out the window. Arm flapping, toe tapping fun! Even when he's all these shots in, he's pretty decent at it.

The birthday Countess -- who also has a birthday twin -- is seated at the head of a table that's covered in what seems like hundred of shot glasses full of very dark, very strong rum. The drinking contest is well underway, as drinkers snatch shots from the table to pound 'em down. Or fall over, like Nimue just did. Ember actually laughs at that one, and it really is an unnatural sound, hearing her laugh. It's so fierce and sharp that it seems like it should be a sound of aggression. She seems to be having too good a time, watching the drinking contest spiral out of control, that she doesn't even care about her handmaidens literally just being coerced by Orland into being his drug dealer.

Renata's aqua colored eyes are looking about as they enter the party. She's about to lean in and whisper something to Nazmir but Raven's 'You~!' has caught her by surprise and she's offering a faint smile, with a rosy blush to her cheeks settling in for the long haul. Her dress is particularly Lycene and revealing, two slits along either side that start at her hips. Along Nazmir's arm she's heading wards Raven. "Raven, I'm glad to see you. I'm sure you remember Prin- I mean Nazmir." she chuckles, knowing how Nazmir doesn't use titles much especially in this setting.

Desma had been staring up at Nimue and throws back her drink at the same time, banging it down on the table with a 'Woop' and then slapping the table hard, hissing as she feels the burn. "Still going!" she says turning just in time to see Nimue topple and she freezes until after the Redreef starts giggling. She reaches down to try and help Nimue back up.

The sound of Raven's booming voice has Nazmir glancing in that direction and when she points a finger, threateningly at him, only to then break out in a grin, he's lifting a hand to point back, trying to look threatening and failing. Entirely. But that doesn't stop him from bellowing out, "YOU!," in return, only to follow it up with a grin of his own as he guides Renata in that direction, "Good to see you again, Raven."

There's a shocked, wild cry of dismay from Marina, "Noooo!!! Nimue! You were my ace! You were supposed to... at least get runner up!!" She freezes in the midst of her outburst, and slowly. Tracks. Her. Eyes. to her sisters. And pauses longer, "...As were the rest of you! I believe in you all equally!!" Unconvincing recovery? Whatever could you be talking about? She points at Desma with both hands, "Her! She's my champion now!!"

Some of those shots on the table near Ember might be a little... empty now. Marina's cheeks might be a little flushed. Or a lot of flushed. Maybe she just overdid the blush.

Patrizio has left the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

3 First Legion Centurions, 3 Setarcan Royal Shields leave, following Patrizio.

Ember has rolled 1 3-sided dice: 2

Raven salutes with her refilled tumbler, "Glad you both could make it. You're both here in enough time to witness me do the Pravus name proud."

Savio checks willpower and survival at normal. Savio is successful.

Orland checks willpower and survival at normal. Orland marginally fails.

Victus checks willpower and survival at normal. Victus fails.

Felicia checks willpower and survival at normal. Felicia marginally fails.

Mailys cheers on Savio, "Drink up, Savio!"

Raven checks willpower and survival at normal. Raven marginally fails.

Desma checks willpower and survival at normal. Desma is successful.

With Desma's help, Nimue springs /right/ back to her feet, a lifetime of falling from wild horses serving her well in this moment.

"Okay YES," Nimue huffs with a sidelong look and sloppy grin, "you are still going... but now you have to WIN--!"

For good luck, Nimue reaches back to swat the Magnotta Lady's rear, then winks and wobbles towards the Haze circle.

"/Intercepted/," she declares when she plucks the spliff from Martinique's fingers on its way to its next destination. "/Never/ sleep in Nimmy Reef-- even if she HAS lost the drinking contest!" she swears before puffing.

Renata is eyeing Raven, giving a light shake of her head mid chuckle, "I've no doubts of your prowess in drinking Raven. I'm sure you'd do most under the table." There is a light squeeze given to Nazmir's arm and Ren is leading him to the dance floor, grinning as she does.

Renata has joined the a red and black tiled dancefloor, with fast-paced and raucous music playing.

Valerian squirms in his seat, watching as Patrizio departs before his focus falls on the drinking contest once again. "This is exciting," he says, with a little giggle-fit that he drowns in another gulp of rum. "Go, Raven!" he cheers for her.

One more shot. This time, Victus looks oddly calm. There isn't quite a rattling, nor an unfortunate upchucking thanks to imbibing a little too much, too quickly. Instead, he furrows his brow and stands up straight. "I am going to leave." He declares stoically. He turns on his heel, takes one step forward, and proceeds to bowl over a chair that in turn suplexes him onto the floor. He does not rise again.

Martinique exchanges a few quick soft words with a fallen Nimue but doesn't attempt to help her up in any fashion. She probably couldn't maintain her own stability if she did. Instead she will yield the haze gracefully to Nimue as she continues to observe the proceedings. She'll also grab two more cups and go just plonk herself down next to Medeia, probably the safest spot at the party for the moment anyway. One glass of rum is offered to the physician. "Didn't have Savio in the final round over the high lord or Orland..." she murmurs, though a bit more slurred than that.

Felicia picked the wrong moment to breathe, clearly, down goes the rum, and then there's spluttering at Victus. She sort of, sort-of? Keeps it down. Mostly. Kind-of. Gasping for air afterwards with watering eyes as she tries to remember how to breathe around the burn of the rum she just attempted to breathe.

Ember stands up and curtsies toward Victus. "Your Grace," she says. "Please give my regards to your sister when next you have the opportunity to speak, if you'd be so kind. She remains a most excellent patron." Ember then relaxes back into her chair, looking over who's still drinking -- at least, who's still drinking for sport. "...and then there were five." She takes a long sip from her own glass.

Raven moves to a seat and flops down, "You know I'll put down a bottle of rum or two, in the same day, but I'd go broke drinking like this every waking hour." She chuckles and sets her glass down to be refilled, signalling she may have sat down but she is still in this.

That grin on Nazmir's lips easily remains in place as he dips his head a little in Raven's direction, "I have no doubt you'll do Pravus proud. If it helps, you can just think about punching me with every drink." There's a tease in the last of those words before he finds himself tugged over in the direction of the dance floor. As he moves in that direction, he does offer to Renata, "I can't say I'm sorry to have missed the shots." It's not every day that one gets to a Highlord fall over a chair and not get up and that may have just drawn his attention for a moment.

Orland is out there doing the wiggle jiggle jig! It's the drunken dance, really! His feet are shuffling, his head is bouncing back and forth, he's vibing to the music that's going on. Orland is pretty drunk by the time the next shot shows up. All that rum (and now haze), on an empty stomach! AHH. He takes it with a FLOURISHING bow, before he tips it back and ... as he tips it back the whole world keeps tilting like he's signed up for a LIMBO competition! Like the motion of tipping the drink back made his entire body arch back that way. OMG Savio help him before he falls!

Savio assures Martinique, for her slurred murmur, the slurmur if you will, "I'm full of surprises!" A slight pause, "And rum. The surprise is rum." He is lifting his arms like ta-daa and totally unaware of what might be happening to Orland. There is no help coming for you, Orland.

Valerian looks to Mailys. "Oh, I think it's a good thing you didn't bring any wine. They're drinking too fast," he says, looking down into his now-empty cup as he rises up from the chairs. "I would love to have a drink of wine with you sometime, somewhere where you don't need to drink so fast, or as much. I think it goes well with quiet, and good art..." The little Lamb of Stormward has become very talkative all of a sudden, seeking out a servant who can get him a refill of rum. "It was such a pleasure to meet you..." he adds again, to Mailys.

Terese watching the remaining five but still seems rather pale, laying her head on Griffin's shoulder

A trio of Redreef Wardens wade into the party to lift Victus off of the floor and hand him off to the Highlord's guards, so that he can be brought to a restful sofa or medicinal chaise longue, where no one will trip over him. Or 'accidentally' step on him.

Nazmir has joined the a red and black tiled dancefloor, with fast-paced and raucous music playing.

Raven scoffs and waves a hand heavily at Valerian at his encouragement and scoffs at Nazmir "So long as she's smiling I have no rage in my heart!" she reassures.

"I'm /fine/." Victus asserts as he's lifted like a newlywed on the way to their bedchamber. "I am perfectly cap-" That's the last utterances he manages to eek out before his head drops back. Something akin to a groaning combined with a snore emanates from the High Lord as his guardsmen take his unconscious self away.

"Saaaaviooo--"

Nimue /appears/ behind Lord Amadeo with all the stealth of a six foot three ghost in three inch heels who is working on a bender. Handing the Haze over to him, she offers, "While I can't in good conscience CONGRATULATE you for defeating my very favorite Dame, or cheer you over the very lovely Lady Magnotta who I am currently running a side bet with-- I wish you good luck! And good health, in the common battle, my Lord."

Even though the bow is deep and reverent, the giggles that start breaking out past the 45 degree mark are anything but.

Renata winces as she sees the High Lord fall hmm.. 'trip' over a chair. She looks a little wide eyed to Nazmir before a slight snicker is elicited from the princess especially when he's snoring. "Well, that's quite a sight." to no one in general before she's looking up to Nazmir, "Oh.. your not sorry for missing the shots?" she leans in to whisper something before there all the way on the dance floor, giving a wave to Savio and Orland.

Ember has rolled 1 3-sided dice: 1

Desma yelps in surprise as Nimue swats her leather clad rear before smirking as she focuses on the next shot before her as if trying to intimidate it. She raises her glass aand shouts, "Magnotta!" as a war cry of sorts and necks it, furiously blinking as it burns down her throat before slamming the table again.

Savio has no idea what's happening until Nimue says his name, and then he looks over that way to see her catching Orland! That's all well and good, but mostly he appears to be delighted at the appearance of such a tall person in tall shoes, something he thoroughly appreciates. "Perfect. Gorgeous. Love," he drunkenly praises Nimue, then blows a kiss to Renata! "Princess! Come over! Bring the man!" That must be Nazmir.

Orland checks stamina and survival at daunting. Orland fails.

Savio checks stamina and survival at normal. Savio is successful.

Felicia checks stamina and survival at daunting. Felicia fails.

Raven checks stamina and survival at daunting. Raven marginally fails.

Desma checks stamina and survival at normal. Desma is successful.

Nazmir is giving a laugh at Raven's response, along with a nod of his head and then a wave as he ambles off to the dance floor. Once there, he's looking back to Renata, grin on his lips, "Not something you see every day." Then, he's following that up with, "Nah. Not this time, at least." Before he even has a chance to wave over at Savio and Orland after murmuring to Renata, there's the call out to her and to the man, which draws a laugh from him and a quick call out, complete with grin, of, "Hey, I resemble that remark!"

"Good art? A Kennex, are you sure?" Mailys teases Valerian. Somewhere Ian is rolling his eyes as his ears ring. "I would be happy to cater a gallery viewing somewhere. Send over word when you have time next?" Her forest green eyes wander from voice to voice aimlessly. The short woman looks pleased to see the contest still raging on.

Valerian giggles at Mailys comment. "That's what they tell me," he says to her, with a helpless shrug regarding his Kennex status. "Oh, absolutely, absolutely!" he says. The boy rises and gracefully tiptoes his way to Raven's chairside, leaning on the back of it to keep himself stable and steady as he enjoys another little sip of rum. "Oh my Gods," he says, as the competition narrows even further, shaking his head in disbelief. "You must be /very/ thirsty," he observes.

Ember reaches a hand out, toward Mailys, and beckons the Corsetina over. She's grinning. It's not clear if the grin means that beckoning Mailys over is a good thing, or a bad thing.

Raven flashes a crooked grin! She's now flushed brightly and her eyes are bright and bloodshot, her movements weighted but she still sits upright and seems more or less aware of what's going on. She gives a rich honeyed alto laugh at Valerian's exclamation, "Always, Lord Valerian!"

Felicia manages most of her next shot, but her airway is still smarting over trying to snort it the last round. There's a shake of her head as she has to set her glass down, hoarsely grunting,"I'm out." with a reluctant grimace.

Orland will have to apologize later for not being coherent enough to say hello to Ren and Nazmir! Nimue seems to catch him before he completely collapses backwards on the dance floor - and oohhhh look! For a minute they are UTTERLY graceful there out on the floor! He does try for another shot but it doesn't really make it down his throat before he's being helped along to a barrel - unless Nimue doesn't spot the incoming danger before it's too late! Hopefully NOT the barrel that the money was put in. All that RUM. It doesn't like to stay down when it's put down that quick!

Nimue checks dexterity and athletics at hard. Nimue marginally fails.

Raven checks 'recovery check' at normal. Raven is spectacularly successful.

Marina's eyes are alight, as she sways and saunters and prowls towards the drinking contest... and, as more participants dropout, somehow, a few more shots disappear into the air. It's a mystery! And her cheeks are nearly glowing, her motions smooth, sinuous... instinctive, really. She brings both hands to her lips, fingers splitting them to let out a sharp whistle, "Go, my champion! Secure your victory! Reward my faith and be rewarded!" She flashes a /wide/ grin Desma's way! What? It's positive reinforcement! It's certainly not going to add any stress to her performance or anything!

Nimue /herself/ only has so much of an idea of what's happening. This includes when the arm she's still holding out as part of her deeply formal bow is suddenly filled with a falling nobleman, leaving her nose just inches from his while he settles into the graceful arch of a dip in her grasp.

-- and then he goes for another drink, and his eyes tell her that she has /seconds/ before something /terrible/ happens.

"oh gods NO NO PLEASE NO--!" she shouts, /shoving/ Savio towards the barrel. Unfortunately, Nimue is a /very/ strong woman, and prone to overshooting in the drunken heat of danger.

Nimue totally meant shoving Orland. Savio's still safe, for now!

FOR NOW

Another shot down and Desma holds up the empty glass like a trophy, showing that it is empty before slamming it down on the table and turning to see the barrel saga unfold and she gigglesnorts in a most unladylike fashion before she slaps her thigh in amusement and points to Savio. "YOU! You can drink!:

Ember has rolled 1 3-sided dice: 2

Mailys turns to Valerian with a smile. "Send a messenger, Lord. I'm being summoned by the Host-Countess." Rising from her chair, the short Corsetina weaves between people, and servants. Increasingly, the servants and the people practically leaning on the tables concentrate around Ember. Whoa, she puts her hands on a drink held so gracefully aloft by a handmaiden she nearly turned into spilling down the front of Mailys. The raven-haired beauty merely scowled and pushed the handmaiden with a firm hand, like pushing a door open, rather than move out of her chosen path around the servant. Presenting herself to Ember's table, she looked about the women with a smile and bowed her head. "I swear I did not bring the haze. It smells Torean, if I'm honest."

Ember has left the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

A pack of giggling and gossiping Redreef handmaidens have been dismissed.

There is a bout of coughing at the dance floor and a very flushed face Pravus Princess as she murmurs to Nazmir, and Savio.

Savio checks willpower and survival at hard. Savio is successful.

Raven checks willpower and survival at daunting. Raven is successful.

Desma checks willpower and survival at hard. Desma is successful.

Griffin touches Terese hair making her more comfortable. "I should have warned you about the drinks here!" Poor Terese.

Valerian is getting increasingly emotional as the tension rises around the contest, taking a hearty gulp of rum in time with RAven's shot. "You're doing so well," he says, passionately encouraging Raven. He looks like he is about to cry.

Orland will just recover, after he's emptied himself into a barrel, that he gets staggered toward... just in time! Then he sort of ... slides down onto the floor and his arms hug the barrel.

Savio is just taking another shot, fully lost in the sauce, off in his own world talking to nobody and everybody like "You guys ever ended up in a pirate bar on the wrong side of the island in nothing but a sarong?" and only belatedly realizes his husband is having an issue. "Oh... shit..." he weaves over and helps by fumbling for another shot with one hand while patting Orland on the head with the other. Pat pat. There, there.

Mailys has left the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

Mailys has joined the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

Valerian has left the plush chairs put in a corner for discreet drinking.

Raven's head tilts back and she gives another honeyed alto cackle, "You're so easy to impress, my lord, it's adorable."

Martinique continues to observe the contest, but from a more safely seated position where she can't topple over quite as rapidly. The players continue to battle--and it seems to be a tight contest. She can't decide who to cheer for. Oh wait, one of the contestants gave her haze: "Get 'em Savio!"

Ember is watching her party turn into complete and disreputable chaos. She seems to be delighted by this, even though it's /her/ home that's going to need to be cleaned up after all of this. When Mailys approaches, Ember reaches out with a shadowmeld-gloved hand to touch the diminutive Corsetina on her bicep -- fingertips only. "Oh, I don't care where the haze is from. Some of it always finds its way into every party, it seems like." She has a long drink. "I read the proposal that you sent me. I accept. However I can aid you, do just let me know~."

There's a little grin in the direction of Renata, a hand lifting to pat the arm that is looped through his own before Nazmir's attention is drawing over to the direction Orland and that barrel, a soft little chuckle escaping his lips. Then he's looking back to those still taking those shots and he can't help but call out, "Come on, Raven!"

3 Arakkoan Free Guards leaves, following Giorgio.

Raven drains her glass and issues another, smaller belch, "OH, did someone need haze? I got haze to spare if it's needed." she turns a bit where she's perched on the bench. She turns around at the sound of her name and flashes a grin and a thumbs up.

Lamora, Quartz, a very sneezy kitten arrive, following Auda.

Desma places a hand on her chest and awwws as she looks at Savio 'tending' to Orland. "That's so sweet!" she says before the next shot is up and she grabs it and downs it in one before she screws her face up and grits her teeth. "I'm still standing!!" she repeats a few times to make sure it is true.

It isn't that Nimue /doesn't care/ about just-- /shoving/ a drunken Orland and hoping for the best.

Or that she isn't concerned about his well-being--

-- it's just that looking away and wobbling towards Aster is protection against having to watch the disaster she fully expects to happen. Nimue and her handmaiden share a few hushed, rapid words capped off with a pout and sigh from the latter, then the Redreef Lady wheels back to Desma, who she drapes herself against from behind for stability.

"Good luck, Desma! Good luck, Savio and Raven!"

Only /one/ of these three is gifted with a good luck charm in the form of rolled Haze touched to her lips after her shot, though (hint: it is the one Nimue is leaning all over). In her other hand, she holds up a book of striking sticks to make the offering plain.

Renata squints her eyes towards Nazmir as she tries to compose herself with the coughing fit that was currently dwindling down. She had might as well have worn a red dress... Committing her life to red or pink colors to match the always blush on her cheeks. However, she too becomes distracted as Raven and Savio continue to drink, "I'm counting on both of you to finish strong!" she cheers for them, and then looks to Nazmir with a grin.

Orland leans into Savio's legs once he comes over to tend him. Arm wrap around legs now, instead of the barrel.

Looking excited, sober and very excited at what Ember has agreed, Mailys claps her hands together, trying to watch the round of drinking. "I think it is a very good message of establishment. We're here. Not going anywhere. It will be my pleasure to show you plans when I have them." She brings her cigarillo holder to her mouth to inhale again. Her brow knits as Orland looks like he's had enough.

Auda arrives, late but unconcerned with the fact! She strolls into Redreef Hall like she's familiar with the place, dressed as she always is! A bit of jewelry, a leather pantsuit, and a very nice blouse. She brings no gifts, it seems, but she does weave her way straight for-- Sniff. Sniff. Nimue. She goes straight for Nimue.

Ember's hand trails down Mailys's arm, all the way down to her hand, and she gives it a small -- but strong -- squeeze. "I rather look forward to it," the Countess trills. She then looks over toward Renata and Nazmir, at long last greeting the pair. She lifts her glass of rum in their directions. "Your Highnesses. You honor me and Lady Marina both with your attendance."

Valerian finishes another glass of rum, leaning over Raven's shoulder to set his empty down on the table. She is treated to a quiet "*hrk*" as it becomes clear that th elittle lord has head enough himself. A moment of pause, and he mercifully lets out a quiet burp, covering his mouth. "Excuse me," he says, nearly inaudible among the proceedings.

Ember has rolled 1 3-sided dice: 1

"If you don't expect much from me I might not let you down," Savio warns Renata, then strokes Orland's hair fondly. Or he was until he's being used as a NAPKIN, as a BARF NAPKIN. "My love has conditions," he warns, but he isn't trying to escape. He is resigned to this fate.

Desma waves at Nimue to light the damn reef before she takes the book, strikes and lights with steady hands before taking her very first toke of HAZE.

Savio checks stamina and survival at hard. Savio fails.

Raven checks stamina and survival at hard. Raven fails.

Desma checks stamina and survival at hard. Desma is successful.

Mailys is overheard praising Desma.

Nimue is overheard praising Desma.

Nimue is overheard praising Martinique.

Orland gets 80000 silver from Beverage Barrels.

Nimue is overheard praising Ember.

Nimue is overheard praising Marina.

Nazmir is lifting his wine glass in the direction of Ember, smile tugging to his lips as he offers up, "Thank you, Countess. But it's I who should be saying it's an honor to attend such a bash. And let congratulate you on your birthday." A sweep of his hand about, "And on a rather delightfully successfully bash, from the looks of things." A quick grin and then that glass is lifted to his lips, a healthy swallow taken before it's lowered down before he murmurs to Renata.

Ember is overheard praising Desma.

Savio is overheard praising Desma: Our battle was LEGENDARY!

Nimue is overheard praising Orland.

Marina is overheard praising Desma.

Mailys is overheard praising Ember.

Nimue /happily/ surrenders the spliff with a brisk kiss on the cheek, then backs up to watch as the next round commences--!

Orland gets Beverage Barrels.

Auda is overheard praising Desma: That much alcohol could probably drown a horse.

Renata takes Birch Please, go get lost in the forest from a leather messenger bag.

Valerian is overheard praising Desma: The woman must be at least 30% rum...

Mailys has left the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

A bodysnatcher working overtime to be here leaves, following Mailys.

Renata waves over to Countess Ember and Lady Marina, "Prince Nazmir is right. I'm glad we could make it. It seems like a very successful birthday bash thus far." she smiles warmly to the Redreefs. "Happy birthday by the way." the Princess would then present Ember with a small little gift box. "I do hope you enjoy. The name of the scent is my favorite. I thought you might enjoy it."

Raven pushes her glass away, "Yeah, rum ain't meant to be drank like this. I'm out." She leans her cheer on the table-top, leaning over the table.

Terese is overheard praising Ember.

Nazmir is overheard praising Ember.

Auda is overheard praising Ember: Truly the Princess of Parties!

Orland looks up at Savio's conditions, "Would you... love me still... if I ... I barfed.. on your shoe...?" It's the would you love me game, for all to hear! Orland's words are mighty in that they are slurring and sloshed! This is fine. He looks up to Renata with a cheeky grin, "Bwautiful? Me?" He looks over to Nazmir, with a hand wiggling gesture, "Hiiii."

Renata leans in to whisper to Nazmir.

Terese is still sitting with Griffin, looking rather pale as she watching the what is happening

When Renata hands Ember a gift box, Ember smiles. This is not a friendly look, on the Crimson Countess. She's a bad smiler. Her smile just makes her look like a predator baring its teeth. (Marina is much better at smiling.) "Your Highness, you shouldn't have. I am in awe of your generosity. If there is ever any way I can repay you, please do let me know... though, it looks as though we're winnowing down to the last of the drinking contest." Ember rises out of her seat to watch the last valiant stands.

Renata looks to Orland and then leans down to boop his nose, "Always beautiful my dearest friend." she giggles.

Valerian gives full, heartfelt applause to Desma, Ember, and just the party in general. "This is so wonderful!" he says, a broad smile pasted on his rosy-cheeked face. He steps around Raven's chair to give her back a little pat and rub to console her. As he looks about the party, he notices Terese, giving her a flailing wave.

Felicia elects to get up and drunkenly stagger out to heed the call of the wild, or something.

Felicia has left the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

One more shot. That's all it is, one more shot! Savio can do it! You can do it Savio! He's holding that last shot glass looking at it, looking at it, trying to summon the resolve to -- drink -- it -- Then, alas, a wave of the smell of Orland's sick seems to come over him, and he puts the rum down, both hands lifting as he confesses in slurred Saffron accent, "I can't, I am actually going to die, I'm out. I'm going to die." Is Orland keeping him or is he keeping Orland up? Hard to say. "Desma! You're beautiful, you're perfect, blessed and highly favored-!" Praise! He sways. "Now who wants to fight?"

Renata looks to Ember, and waves her hand dismissively, "No, think nothing of it Countess Ember, after all, it is your birthday." a cute little wrinkle of nose is given paired with a warm smile. However, Ember's smile did make Ren a little nervous, but she was a big ball of shy and nervous anyways.

Terese tries her hardest to smile but looks more sick as she offer Valerian a half-hearted wave in return. She is really trying to keep having fun.

Desma takes a deep toke on the spliff and grins at the kiss to her cheek before taking the shot glass, looking at it intently before raising it to her mouth and downing it again. She lets out a loud gasp before she hoots as she holds the empty glass up high and yells out. "I am Desma Magnotta! RUMBANE!" She then grabs Nimue and pulls the tall Redreef down for a drunken kiss on the lips in victory. "Yeah!!!"

Nazmir has turned his attention back to Orland, the grin tugging back to his lips, "I gotta say, I'm quite familiar with the view down there. It is rather nice, a little daunting when it starts spinning, though. Oh, and hi." A waggle of his glass before he's lifting it to his lips, a small sip taken before he's looking to Savio, "The fact you're still standing. Impressive."

Martinique remains seated as the contest proceeds, and laughs uproariously when the contestants begin tapping out. When Desma ultimately claims victory, she applauds, and now she is sloshing rum around while doing this holding a cup. But there's more rum where that came from, and she'll consume it. "Fight--I'll totally--" her sentence is cut off when she stands up to go play with Savio, and then promptly faceplants. Fortunately she did not already have a knife out.

Raven grooans, "Noooo fighting, damnit! Don't make me get up, damnitall!" her voice muffled where her face rests on the table.

Auda is overheard praising Martinique: Such style, such graace.

Renata blinks as fighting is mentioned and she kind of steps back behind Nazmir quietly. Not enough to hide herself completely, although, that would probably be very easy considering how small she is compared to the northern prince.

And then there was one.

Ember looks to Desma, and lifts her hand, to curl a finger and beckon her closer. "Lady Desma Magnotta. You've vanquished all challengers. Come to me, and claim your prize." Maybe Ember's being creepy. Or maybe Ember's just the only sober-ish person left in the room. "Come to me, my Lady, and whisper into my ear the name of your greatest enemy, the person -- or people -- who you would see vanquished and broken before your feet as you stand ankle-deep in their blood~."

Martinique has left the a long dining table with peaked high-backed chairs.

Valerian gives Raven's shoulder a squeeze, halfheartedly trying to raise her, but it is quite useless considering his impaired balance and lack of strength in the first place. "Nobody is fighting, it's okay," he assures her, though his hand lifts off of the woman and he quickly flees to the side of Terese as Ember begins offering some kind of bloody prize for the contest. "I am so sad I didn't see you, Princess," he laments.

"Ah, a worthy opponent!" Savio praises Martinique, then puts his fists up!! .. And lowers them as she keels over. "Good fight!" he summarizes, then starts trying to get free of Orland in a highly unstable and wobbly way. "Orland. Orland, get up and fight with me. Orland. Orland! Aw, babe, they are offering murder! I love it! Orland. Orland!"

Marina is busy proving she is better at smiling than her dear sister Ember... although there might be /some/ predatory aspect to her wide smile, and the gleam in her eyes as she continues to applaud and cheer, and whistle for Desma and her victory! ...But it's eclipsed by the hoot and whistle for her pulling Nimue into a kiss, "Well! Now I think I need to come up with a new prize for my champion! ...the prize was a kiss. Not with Nimue of course! But... well now... I'm sure I can think up an appropriate prize!" And then Ember's announcing her own prize... and Marina's lips twist, a range of expressions... curiousity? Approval? Confusion? A bit of all of them, but she /is/ somewhat tipsy. "Well, /my/ prize is certainly going to be more fun than that... but my sister did say the winner would get a prize from her as well!"

Valerian has joined the comfortable couches close to the fireplace.

"Ooooh.." Auda's attention returns to Ember as she talks of prizes, and the slender woman leans in a little. Clearly she's intriqued, and curious! She takes a hit off the joint before offering it back, breathing deep and holding it before she's slowly exhaling. She is.. definitely not new to Haze.

".....!"

There isn't a hint of resistance to being grabbed and hauled into a drunken, sloppy celebration; just surprised squeals that quickly fall silent.

"Yeah!!!" she echoes afterwards, straightening-- -- weaving towards plopping down in a chair to start working on clearing leftover shots.

"Marti--!" she calls when the Dame goes down. She doesn't move to help, or pull her up, or anything, but the concern is /very real/ as she downs a shot; her eyes are /huge/ and everything.

Terese tries hard to keep smiling as Valerian join her and Griffin. "Oh, no worries, it is the Countess's night not mine and I am rather not used to," she starts to reply but looks sicker for a moment. "Drinking that much," she finishes trying so hard to keep composure

When Renata steps behind Nazmir at the mention of fighting, there's a low chuckle in the back of his throat and he's turning a bit to cast a look to her, "Oh, come on out. You're quite safe, I assure you." Savio's first opponent, Martinique, gets felled rather easily, which has him calling out to the Lord, "You're so fast I didn't even see you knock her down!" And then there's the mention of enemies and blood and the Redrain Prince is turning his attention over in the direction of Ember with a lifted brow and a grin.

Orland smiles up at Nazmir, in a way that he probably shouldn't smile at someone else while holding his husband's legs. WHAT he's drunk. He can smile. He's probably being polite, in his drunken sleeze sort of way. "Your hair... why is it white...? How old are you?" THINGS he probably shouldn't or wouldn't ask, but hey, drunken excuse here. As Savio declares there should be fighting though, he tries to stagger up to his feet, muttering something, "Fight... who are we fighting?" His arms sling around Savio's shoulders.

Raven remains where she is, taking the party horizontally, managing not to drool but not managing much more than to remain conscious and still at present,

Desma somehow manages to focus on Ember as she announces her prize before she walks towards the Crimson Countess, managing to keep her feet under her in the process... although she does lightly use the back of the chairs as support on the way. She offers a overly careful bow to Ember before leaning in and whispering something.

Renata is quietly sipping her wine, with eyes watching the crowd gathered until Nazmir tries to lure her out from behind him, "I don't know the shadow of you hides my blush. It's cozy here." she teases, before there is a slight sly smirk along her lips and she's drawing the glass down a bit. Then to Orland she shakes her head, and waggles her finger, "No.. no fighting, pleaseee." she says softly. And then she's looking to where Savio knocks down Martinique, a few blinks and rub to her eyes at how fast he was. "Oh my goodness."

Griffin's laughs quietly. "That's why I didn't join in the contests. I prefer my alcohol at regular intervals and more pleasing amounts." Though he has watched the event with amusement. He nods to Valarian.

"She gave it her best shot," Savio says of Martinique, to Nazmir! He did not knock her down, mind, she just kinda toppled over. He is currently trying to extricate himself from Orland's arms, explaining, "Me, you were going to fight ME, how is it a party if there isn't a fight? I just had a good behavior.... um, mostly good behavior.... party in front of everyone last week, let me have this!" To reassure Renata about fights, he promises, "It's okay, he can't hit me."

Oh. Wait. There's a question about his hair and that takes priority over watching Ember for the moment, it would seem, for Nazmir's gaze turns to Orland and there's a beaming smile given, "Not old enough to have white hair, trust me. But it's white because it makes me look stunning." That's as good a reason as any! And the comment even comes with a little hair flip for show. He's then looking to Renata, soft little chuckle given, "You can hide later." To Savio, he's then offering a sage little nod, "She did. It should be written in song."

Raven sits up with a groan and pushes to her feet with a wobble.

Ember leans in and listens, nodding her head once, then again as Desma takes her time. Everyone's been drinking a bit. "I see. Well, your prize, Lady Desma -- when the time comes, my sword is yours. You have named your enemy... and I will help you to butcher them. Congratulations." Ember reaches out and pats Desma on the shoulder, once. The Countess is dead serious about her promise, and there's zero irony in the prize for the drinking contest being a promise to help kill someone (or someones). "Now then. The rest of you. Drink, eat-- well, maybe don't eat-- but make merry. This has been a most excellent birthday."

Orland is staggering a bit on his feet, wobbling somewhat away from Savio, "What... ever... you want...!" He grins a little, putting his hands on his hips, then patting his cheek, "Hit me." The white hair remark from Nazmir has him look over, tilting his head, "Yes. It works for you." A look to Renata, grinning sort of approval. His hands do draw up though, ready to FITE.


*** Savio has called for an opposing check with Orland. ***
Savio checks dexterity and brawl at easy. Savio marginally fails.
Orland checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Orland is successful.
*** Orland is the winner. ***


*** Savio has called for an opposing check with Orland. ***
Savio checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Savio is successful.
Orland checks dexterity and brawl at easy. Orland is successful.
*** Savio is the winner. ***

Raven has left the a wooden bench ringing an indoor coral garden.

"Okay," Savio answers Orland, "REN DON'T LOOK IT'S GONNA GET RIGHTEOUS," he warns the princess, and then strikes! And then Orland strikes! And neither of them actually manage to hit each other, because they're shitfaced. They are so drunk. The dodging is not good, it's just that the punching is worse. It's like a dance, a very awful dance, in which the choreography was bad to begin with and then unrehearsed. It is shameful. Witnesses should hope they drank enough not to recollect this. Just one last cherry on top of a party to remember! Or.... super, super not remember. HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMBER!