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

[exuviae]

Amrita's day had been spent in the library, familiarizing herself with the system and where everything was, and constantly getting stuck in volumes regarding various subjects that caught her interest.

Now she finally felt that it was time for her to retire to her quite frankly sinfully wonderful room and spend the rest of the evening there.

Catching sight of Tybalt as soon as she walked through the library doors, however, she came to a halt and gave him a nod in greeting.

"Good evening."

[layonhands]

[ there's a couple knights at the bar down the way who have just plain had way too much to drink. between annoying rounds of song and spilling all over the floor, punctuated with irritating bursts of laughter, they've been driving the few other patrons in here crazy, and the bartender finally tells them they've had enough. which only means that the one floats a bottle off the shelf and into his hand with magic when his back is turned. they crack up laughing and not much longer, have both passed out and slid off their stools. the bartender makes a call and eventually a woman in deep blue robes enters the room, looking around uncertainly, as if she's not accustomed to this particular facility of the castle, before the bartender points to the floor where the bodies are sprawled. she steps around tybalt to get a better view of them. ] Oh! I see what you mean. [ she looks at the bottle lying empty on the counter ] ... I suppose it doesn't help that they were downing ogre mead.

[smugfox]

It really wasn't surprising to find Reynard at the bar. It wasn't as if he was that prone to getting drunk - although it certainly happened often enough - but he liked people. He had always been, in his way, a people-person, starting when he first tried being, well, a person.

Of course, his way of being a people-person might widely differ from the common definition, but it worked well enough for him most of the time.

Reynard didn't generally tell anyone his true nature. It wasn't embarrassment, it was self-preservation. Being able to turn into a fox came in handy when he had to get away and no one knew he could do that.

But he couldn't keep it secret from everyone and so he approached the cat, guessing that he could smell the truth on him just as he could in turn.

"What are you drinking?"