Whiskey in Mind

[quarrelsomecat]

WHO || Tybalt, Amrita anyone who might be wandering by or having a drink.
WHAT || Tybalt indulges in his second favorite pastime and runs into another squire on his way out.
WHERE ||  The Castle Bar, first floor
WHEN || Tuesday, Mar 12th, early evening
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam

Tybalt had spent most of the day in the training room, practicing with his sword and generally doing a little too well at avoiding the company of his fellow squires. It wasn't as if he particularly disliked any of them, he just had never been the best at social interactions. In fact, in general he was terrible at them. His blunt honesty had a tendency of stirring up fights, and Tybalt's enjoyment of those fights had never left much drive to stop being the prickly feline he was. He could be plenty civil, but he bristled at anything he considered a personal insult. It just wasn't very conducive to making friends.

He spends most of the latter half of the day in the castle bar until late in the evening when he finally decides to head to his bedroom. It's possible he might even get into actual conversations with people at the bar. He's his most personable when he has a drink in his hand. Otherwise it's just as likely to bump into him on his way out. A bit softened around the edges by alcohol and less prone to start a fight.

Come prod the feline prickly pear.

Comments

[quarrelsomecat]

"Three hours."

He purposefully ignored what that question might have been referring to. It's hard not to bristle when someone refuses to take an obvious hint, so the cat just drinks his alcohol and focuses on the knights in the bar, rather than the other squire.

[smugfox]

"And you don't even smell it." A lie, but well. "How long then, I wonder, have you been part of the knights."

Obviously rudeness wasn't deterring him. If anything, it might make him just that bit more determined.