HAPPY NEW YEAR

[paletteknife]

Who: Anyone of legal drinking age or with a good fake ID
What: A BAR LOG: NEW YEAR'S EDITION
When: New Year's Eve
Where: The Birdcage
Warnings: I think there may be alcohol references in this bar log. Also probably sloppy makeouts come midnight.



The Birdcage may have taken a hit during the destructive riots in the city over the summer, but like a majestic phoenix, it had risen from the ashes and looked better than ever with its renovations - just in time for one of the biggest nights of the year. The lights shone brighter and more colourful than ever, the bar was stocked with fresh new liquors from around the globe (and beyond), the music rang loud and clear through new speakers, the stage was more elaborate and featured all kinds of drag and burlesque troupes...

It was simply fabulous.

And on this New Year's Eve, it was packed from wall to wall with those reveling in the joy of having their favourite bar back and eager to see what the next year has in store. The patrons were brought together from all walks of life, all timelines and universes and races and lifestyles, to celebrate together and bask in the warm buzz of a good drink.

Some of them were here from Smash Academy. Why? Maybe they planned in advance. Maybe it was spur of the moment in an attempt to not spend New Year's miserable and alone while sober. Maybe it had to do with that brochure for the grand reopening that kept appearing on the bulletin board outside the cafeteria no matter how many times a certain hall monitor and other concerned folk took it down.

THE POINT IS. It's a drinking log. Go nuts.

Comments

[wassa_matta_you]

WELL, YOU DIE ONCE... What else did he have to fear?

Okay, so he might not have the same levels of grace that Princess Falcon of Margarita-lot had over here but he could still certainly hold his own in this game. AND HE WILL.

He turned to the bartender.

"Get four of 'em ready," he demanded, head feeling heavy with a dense heat behind his eyes. "I'm gonna fuck 'em up."

[raced_god]

The only thing you have to fear was someone who had spent the better part of fifteen years partying inconceivably hard on the F-Zero circuit.

Here he was. Reaching for #3.

"You just tell me when you've had enough."

[wassa_matta_you]

"Don't bank on that," Desmond muttered, grabbing two shots in each fist and destroying them consecutively. He wasn't having your shit, Falcon. AND HE'D DO IT AGAIN. AND HE DID.

He was grinning despite the brain-breaking flood he was submitting his internal organs to. There'd be time to regret every life decision at another time. "'cause you'll... want to unbank that." There we go.

[raced_god]

There was, of course, no way to drink three shots in rapid succession without feeling it, no matter how hard a partier you were. Falcon was going to have to be smart about this, keeping tabs on how much Desmond was drinking and attempting to pace himself accordingly.

Subsequently, he watched janitorman crush the two shots before he went for his own round, taking a moment to breathe before slamming back the second.

"You do this a lot?"

I CANNOT BELIEVE I DRUNK TAGGED I CANNOT BELIEVE DESMOND

[wassa_matta_you]

Desmond had to reflect on his entire life before answering that. It might've taken a few seconds. Or half a minute. You know, after he got his hands on the next shot.

"Yeah! Friends like to party sometimes so I go out and get fucked up, sure." Well, it'd been a minute, if he was honest about it. "Do some... some shots at work sometimes." Professional. "Bartendin' and sssshit." Oh fuck him. The bottles behind the bar were floating and melting together.

He looked at Falcon, still grinning even though his days were numbered. He was just laughing between speaking and breathing somewhere. HOW DID FALCON LOOK SO FUCKING COOL RIGHT NOW. "Oh my God," he chuckled. "Where did you get your liver?"

[raced_god]

from space

Falcon laughed, a loud, abrupt sort of noise that ever-so-slightly betrayed how truly drunk he was. NOT AS DRUNK AS DESMOND, at least. A bartender, even. That just made it all the more hilarious.

"This comes with lots of practice."

Obviously.

i'm back from outer space with new liver

[wassa_matta_you]

"Aahah!" He pointed at him, shaking his finger like he was one of those. You know. Those. He got you, Falcon. "Liver training."

Yes.

Olympic training his liver. NAILED IT.

As did his forehead into the bar top. He was still alive, though. Still laughing. Barely.

[raced_god]

Liver...training. Yeah, that was probably what it was, when you got down to it. Sounded better than "a veritable lifetime of heavy drinking".

Falcon laughed, a loud, barking laugh, and clapped Desmond on the back. Maybe a little too hard.