CHUG! CHUG! GLUB! GLUB! glub glub...
Who: 11ady, codename_fire, count_to_peace
What: Just the Preventers as they stand currently hanging out at a local bar and chattin’ it up like pros.
When: About a day after the first round of these dates take place and end.
Where: Some local bar.
Warnings: Drinking, possible eventual cussing, and hopefully some hilarity.
How anyone could manage going this long without popping something back for some inane reason such as severe stress and possible insanity, Noin would never know. Hell, getting through all those years beforehand would have been the act of a saint that she most assuredly wasn’t. Just lucky, probably, or OCD like the geek she secretly was.
As it was, here she was, insane or not, smiling like she hadn’t a thing to worry about, and for once, it seemed possible it was true. The small shot glass in front of her brimmed to the rim with golden liquid and she tapped the surface lightly with her fingertip before bringing it to her mouth.
Just. Fantastic.
“Have either of you tried this yet, I never thought I’d find aliens in outer space with as good as alcohol and taste as they had stored away at the Academy.”
She was, of course, talking to the other two Preventers she’d managed to convince to come with her and enjoy what she had heard about. The night before had seemingly left her in a rather amiable mood, but that was probably the tall one’s fault.
“No, perhaps later.”
And that surly reply came from their former commanding officer. Une was stalling. She fully intended to wait for them to both pass out so she could pay the tab and walk out sober. It was simply how things had to go.
There was a short glass of bourbon in front of the only male there. He watched the ice float about in his drink, intent on allowing Noin to babble. Although they were similar in other areas, drinking had to be where they diverted paths. He stuck to his tried and true favorite, unlike Noin who was well known for experimenting most of the night.
He always ended up being the more sober of the two.
“She may hold you to that, Une,” Zechs replied, smiling wryly to the long haired woman.
What: Just the Preventers as they stand currently hanging out at a local bar and chattin’ it up like pros.
When: About a day after the first round of these dates take place and end.
Where: Some local bar.
Warnings: Drinking, possible eventual cussing, and hopefully some hilarity.
How anyone could manage going this long without popping something back for some inane reason such as severe stress and possible insanity, Noin would never know. Hell, getting through all those years beforehand would have been the act of a saint that she most assuredly wasn’t. Just lucky, probably, or OCD like the geek she secretly was.
As it was, here she was, insane or not, smiling like she hadn’t a thing to worry about, and for once, it seemed possible it was true. The small shot glass in front of her brimmed to the rim with golden liquid and she tapped the surface lightly with her fingertip before bringing it to her mouth.
Just. Fantastic.
“Have either of you tried this yet, I never thought I’d find aliens in outer space with as good as alcohol and taste as they had stored away at the Academy.”
She was, of course, talking to the other two Preventers she’d managed to convince to come with her and enjoy what she had heard about. The night before had seemingly left her in a rather amiable mood, but that was probably the tall one’s fault.
“No, perhaps later.”
And that surly reply came from their former commanding officer. Une was stalling. She fully intended to wait for them to both pass out so she could pay the tab and walk out sober. It was simply how things had to go.
There was a short glass of bourbon in front of the only male there. He watched the ice float about in his drink, intent on allowing Noin to babble. Although they were similar in other areas, drinking had to be where they diverted paths. He stuck to his tried and true favorite, unlike Noin who was well known for experimenting most of the night.
He always ended up being the more sober of the two.
“She may hold you to that, Une,” Zechs replied, smiling wryly to the long haired woman.