(no subject)
Who: Ceodore, Freyjadour, and OPEN to Castmates (particularly parents or nagging figures)
What: Post-drinking aftermath
When: Today, right after this (which isn't quite done, but getting there)
Where: Through the village proper.
Summary: The prince pair decided to test out the waters for the first time of drinking with the buddies and got quite sloshed. They'll be weaving through the village trying to get home while singing bawdy tavern songs. Loudly. And off key.
Rating: PG-13 for booze? And raunchy song lyrics.
Notes: Anyone who wants to gripe in their journals tomorrow about the two drunks singing at night and getting sleep disrupted or how bad it sounded or whatever? Go for it.
It seemed like such a good idea. Frey was bothered; Ceodore was brooding about Selphie's mallynapping. Not really too much cheer between the two of them, which was unusual given their typical good natures. In fact, their amiability was one of those personality aspects they shared that made the pair of princes get along so well. Besides, they were old enough. Men now. Old enough to fight in wars and old enough to go drinking with a friend. Not a thing wrong with it.
Only for Ceodore's part, the only drinking he'd engaged in before was the social variety expected with court festivities or wine at dinner. Not that he would ever admit that, not even to Frey. In fact, when he traveled, he couldn't get the tavernmaster to do anything but laugh and offer him milk. That Frey didn't need to know about either. It was a first, but no big deal. They'd have a few, and laugh and forget about their worlds getting turned upside down for a while. Couldn't ask for a better plan. Except their tolerance for more than a couple wasn't nearly high enough.
Walking got a lot harder to do, but Ceodore was convinced he was perfectly upright and absolutely fine, even though he had an arm hooked around Frey's neck in a partial headlock, weaving through the village. They'd started talking about girls. Pretty girls. Then there was that one pretty girl in the song he'd heard. What girl? Well then the song had to be sung, only Ceodore was certainly no bard and hadn't the capability to carry a tune in a bucket while sober, much less while smashed. Then again, Frey was no better a vocalist, so who cared. The words were not all that clear, but what came out was pretty risque: talking about a pretty barmaid that everyone lusted after but no one could have. As the verses moved down the imaginary lass's body, the lyrics got more vulgar and raunchy, and sadly for anyone in earshot... louder.
What: Post-drinking aftermath
When: Today, right after this (which isn't quite done, but getting there)
Where: Through the village proper.
Summary: The prince pair decided to test out the waters for the first time of drinking with the buddies and got quite sloshed. They'll be weaving through the village trying to get home while singing bawdy tavern songs. Loudly. And off key.
Rating: PG-13 for booze? And raunchy song lyrics.
Notes: Anyone who wants to gripe in their journals tomorrow about the two drunks singing at night and getting sleep disrupted or how bad it sounded or whatever? Go for it.
It seemed like such a good idea. Frey was bothered; Ceodore was brooding about Selphie's mallynapping. Not really too much cheer between the two of them, which was unusual given their typical good natures. In fact, their amiability was one of those personality aspects they shared that made the pair of princes get along so well. Besides, they were old enough. Men now. Old enough to fight in wars and old enough to go drinking with a friend. Not a thing wrong with it.
Only for Ceodore's part, the only drinking he'd engaged in before was the social variety expected with court festivities or wine at dinner. Not that he would ever admit that, not even to Frey. In fact, when he traveled, he couldn't get the tavernmaster to do anything but laugh and offer him milk. That Frey didn't need to know about either. It was a first, but no big deal. They'd have a few, and laugh and forget about their worlds getting turned upside down for a while. Couldn't ask for a better plan. Except their tolerance for more than a couple wasn't nearly high enough.
Walking got a lot harder to do, but Ceodore was convinced he was perfectly upright and absolutely fine, even though he had an arm hooked around Frey's neck in a partial headlock, weaving through the village. They'd started talking about girls. Pretty girls. Then there was that one pretty girl in the song he'd heard. What girl? Well then the song had to be sung, only Ceodore was certainly no bard and hadn't the capability to carry a tune in a bucket while sober, much less while smashed. Then again, Frey was no better a vocalist, so who cared. The words were not all that clear, but what came out was pretty risque: talking about a pretty barmaid that everyone lusted after but no one could have. As the verses moved down the imaginary lass's body, the lyrics got more vulgar and raunchy, and sadly for anyone in earshot... louder.