Snippet #2562100

Despite appearances to the contrary, Vivi could knock back beers as well as any dwarf, dead or alive. However, she lacked their constitutions and six tankards of the best ale the dwarves had to offer would have an effect on pretty much anyone, least of all her. She was currently having issues holding on to her seventh tankard as despite her attempts to keep it in hand kept slipping out and onto the ground. Then when she bent over to pick it back up, inevitable she too fell onto the ground in fit of drunken giggling. She wrestled with the tankard for a moment before finding the mouth with her own and poured what little remained down her throat by tipping it all the way back. Too far back, as it turned out because she too fell backward again, and another series of giggles escaped.

Her legs stretched out as far as they could on the cool ground, while her arms clutched the now empty tankard to her chest like it was a child. She tried to look up at the stars, but found it difficult due to the fact that they wouldn't stay still, and attempted to make out constellations for a moment until she gave up and rolled over. First, she found her knees, and from there tried to make it back to her feet all without relinquishing hold on her precious tankard. After three attempts she finally found her feet and she began to meander through the party again. At one point, she even danced with the tankard, swaying side to side with it in her hands.

Eventually however, she stood next to one of the smaller bonfires, having been burned down as the festivities proceeded through the night. She swayed uncertainly as she watched the fire burn before exchanging glances between it and the tankard cradled in her arms. Decided which was more fun, she chucked the tankard in a random direction (though an audible thump and resulting cursing could still be heard) and approached the fire.

Vivi found a long stick and proceeded to play in the fire, pushing glowing embers back and forth within the blaze and attempting to keep the flame on her own stick lit for as long as possible. At times, she seemed to dangerously pitch forward into the fire before catching herself and pitching backward instead. Beside her, a small flame caught on the dry grass and slowly approached an unawares Vivi.

Well, at least she finally had a use for the rest of her ale. Kethyrian upended the tankard over the licking flame, effectively dousing it despite the alcoholic contents of the beverage. It was all about oxygen deprivation, as she had learned. Rather than throwing her depleted cup at a random passer-by, she simply set it down in the grass right there, casting a flat look over at Vivian. It was entirely predictable, honestly—the girl could not seem to keep herself out of trouble for five minutes, quite likely because she did not want to do so. It was all more headaches to Kethyrian, but nevertheless, the favisae put up with it. Why, she didn’t bother to question, lest she come to her senses and cease doing so.

Coming to a stop beside the other woman, Kethy put her fists on her slender hips and frowned over at the human on too close to the fire. Her nose was faintly wrinkled—drunkenness was an excess severely frowned upon underground, because it made a person useless for an extended period of time and consumed more resources than was necessary. She understood it was different up here, but the slovenly behavior was still not exactly amenable to her personal sensibilities about such matters.

“I’m not helping you if you injure yourself stumbling around like a lackwit,” she sniped, sniffing in a manner nearly derisive. “And if you set the plains on fire, I will happily inform the dwarves that you are responsible for their impoverished year.” Well, happily might be a bit of an exaggeration. It was hard to imagine Kethyrian doing anything in a way that could be described as happy, perhaps more of all for herself. Despite her words, one of her hands gripped the back of Vivian's shirt, as though to prevent her from pitching forward too far.

"Now," Vivi said, stumbling over her words, "We both know that's a crock." A fit of giggles resulted and she acted like she was going to tip over into the fire twice before she almost did on the third, prompting her to stop. Had it not been for Kethy's hand on the back of her dress, she would've been a degree more crispy. Needless to say, she quit that avenue of teasing. Looking back up at Kethy, she grinned like a fool and nodded enthusiastically. "'Preciate that. Where would I be without ya?"

As she stared at Kethy, she wondered why she was slowly slipping further and further away, until her equilibrium caught up to her and she felt herself falling backward instead. "Uh-oh," Vivi managed before she fell over. Luckily this time it was not into the fire but away from it. She laid on her back for a moment staring up at Kethy before flopping onto her belly in a manner that would remind one of a fish, and sat cross legged with her elbows on her knees. A serious tight-lipped frown mirroring Kethy's own found her lips as she stared at the woman.

Trying to muster as much drunken dignity as she could, she patted the grass beside her, before she took Kethy's hand and tugged on it. "Com'on, Kethy, sit with me," she said, giggling at the impromptu rhyme and running with it, "And you'll see, we can be... be... uh. I'm out." she said before devolving into another fit of giggles. Then her face lit up in recognition and she said, "Free! We can be free! Yeah! That one works!"

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Kethyrian groused, glaring down at Vivi for a moment before she relented and sank much more gracefully down into a crosslegged position, draping her arms over her knees and sitting slightly forward, fixing her eyes on the fire. The flames crackled and hissed, popping the wood beneath them, flickering tongues of flame throwing her dark complexion into a strange relief, catching her eyes as though they themselves were alight.

“You’re not going to vomit all that ale, are you?” She turned her head, lips thinned and eyes narrowed, as if to scrutinize Vivian for any sign of the possible fact that she was about to lose everything she’d had to eat and drink in the past few hours. A drunkard had managed to puke on her once. It was not an experience she had any desire to repeat. For more than one reason.

Vivi's hands went to her chest, specifically over the area where her heart was and a hurt look crept into her face. "Kethy," she said with drunken exasperation, "Imma lady. In a dress! Ladies in dresses don't vomit!" She said, breaking into a laughing fit soon afterwards. Despite her size, Vivi had a surprising tolerance-- or perhaps stubbornness was the better word. That being said, she was still a short and lean woman, and even she had limits. Limits that she had a tendency to test vigorously. Though she put on a brave face, chances were that the ale would see fresh air again-- just later rather than sooner.

"I worked hard to get it in me, I'm not lettin' go that easy," Wagging a shaky finger in Kethy's general direction. She was all smiles and laughs, and when the finger dropped she too looked into the nearby fire, momentarily mesmerized by the dancing flames. She swayed as she sat, eyes not focused solely on the flame for too long. Every so often, they stole a glance at Kethy as she slowly tipped into her direction. Before she knew it, she had her head in Kethy's lap, staring up at the woman with the widest grin manageable. "Anyone tell you you have beau... boo... bea... Pretty hair?" She asked, plucking a two-toned lock and running her fingers through it.

Kethyrian looked down at who was shaping up to be her charge for the evening, her eyes narrowed. “Only when they have no idea what they’re talking about,” she said, her tone acerbic, but harmlessly so. Still, it was something of a touchy subject for her, just because of the stigma associated with her appearance for most of her life. Aesthetically, fine, her hair was not bad to look at, but it was still an eyesore, and she vacillated fairly often between the desire to cut it all off and continuing to wear it long as if in a sort of useless defiance of that basic fact.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re going to get yourself killed one day?” For sheer recklessness if nothing else. There was no mistaking that, at least when she was sober enough, Vivian had a certain kind of finesse, if only in the physical sense. But that could only save you from so many things before your luck ran out and your skill wasn’t enough.

And didn’t she know it.

"Pffft, oh, only 'bout every other day. Mostly by you, but Teo says it sometimes too." Vivi was undeterred from wrapping the black and white lock around her finger and generally playing with like a cat would with a ball of yarn. "No adventure in ya at all," she said, giving Kethy a pouty face for her efforts. Anything fun came with a bit of risk, a risk that Vivi accepted without nary a thought. That was who she was, the type of person who dove into things head first, and if she found herself in over that pretty little head, then oh well, it was fun.

"But let me tell ya," She said with a flick of Kethy's lock, using it to point at her, "It's a good thing I know what I'm talkin' 'bout, then. I mean, I see pretty every time I look in a mirror." A saccharine grin, and Vivi pushed Kethy's lock against her forehead. However, the smile faded into a line of faint seriousness, and the hair was turned toward it's owner instead. "You... Have flawless hair, don't let anyone tell ya any different. ," She tapped the other woman's nose with the lock, "Fuck 'em if they say anything else, they don't know what the hell they're talkin' about. You. Are. Pretty."

“Mm. And you are drunk. So now that we’ve agreed on that, please let go of my hair.”

There wasn’t any doubt that in this instance at least, Vivian’s heart was in the right place. But words had little significance, at least as far as Kethyrian was concerned, and she was shooting a little left of the mark, besides. Nevertheless, not even the Favisae was so cold that she failed to understand what her friend—yes, friend—was trying to do, and with surprising delicacy, she smoothed Vivi’s hair back from her face, gathering it all into a short tail which she tied with a loose bit of ribbon from somewhere on her clothes. She’d thank her when that ale started to come back up the other way.

Or maybe not.