lostcarnival | no bourbon, no scotch, no beer

Who: the idiot brigade aka Lambert & Strange
Where: Strange's trailer
When: backdated to late on Day 77
What: errybody in the trailer got tipsy
Warnings: alcohol use

( continued from here )

[ Taking the White Gull, Strange carefully puts two small drops of the alcohol into his mug of wine. His hands are steady, like he's used to doling out entirely small doses of liquids. Really, he doesn't believe this is as potent as Lambert says it is. After all, the other man can drink it and he...well, he's Lambert so who knows what sort of witcher nonsense makes you resistant to weird alcohols. Still, he can always add more later if need be.

As he finishes adding in the White Gull, Strange caps the flask and sets it on a nearby, hella cluttered table. Moments later, he raises his mug as well. ]

To your new appointment.

[ Might as well make an ATTEMPT at a toast. Strange downs a healthy serving of his wine...then just starts coughing a bit because wow, even with just two drops that stuff is surprisingly potent. ]

Good Lord.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're not making any sense, Strange.

[ Lambert laughs, because hey, dude's crazy. Chalk it up to madness and leave it at that. He'll lets him hang on to his arm because it seems like too much effort to reclaim it at the moment, but he shakes his head. ]

I've got no idea what you're talking about.

[ Strange may be drunk and he may be crazy but he still can tell when he's being laughed at and not believed. He gives Lambert a glare while...still not letting go of his arm, this is getting a little bit ridiculous. He's making perfect sense, thank you very much. It's not his fault this is hard to explain to begin with. ]

I know what I feel. Is this another part of your witcher nonsense?

[ If you don't want to get laughed at, don't say weird things, Strange. That's pretty much a given! At the question, though, Lambert ... shrugs, illustratively. ]

Maybe? There's a lot of witcher nonsense. [ Seriously: a lot. And Lambert doesn't necessarily know all of it. At this point, though, he's going to start trying to pry his arm out of Strange's grip, assuming he lets him. Once the contact's gone, the sensation stops almost immediately. ]

[ As Lambert wriggles out of Strange's grip, Strange takes this opportunity to take the (now half-full) glass of water. Tentatively he sips at it, as the nausea slowly comes back. This whole thing is far too weird and far too annoying for his tastes.
Stupid witchers. ]

We'll have to run tests later, [ he states, with all the authority that his drunken self can muster, before Strange starts to fall slightly to one side. Might be best to shove him either on the floor or in a bed. ]

Sure, whatever you say.

[ Lambert likes you, Strange, but he doesn't like you enough to wrestle your dumb ass into your bunk when you have all the grace of a dead grave hag. The witcher snickers, catching Strange by the front of his shirt and propping him upright again. ]

Drink all your water, then you can pass out.

[ Dutifully, Strange drinks the rest of the water. Thankfully, he doesn't chug it (because even he knows that would make things worse) but he doesn't take his time drinking it either. ]

There. Anything else?

[ Because with how wobbly Strange is, the likelihood that he'll actually stay upright for much longer is slim to none. And this is how Strange ends up passed out on the floor and waking up with a crick in his spine. ]

no bourbon, no scotch, no beer

this is true and also his shirt stays closed way too much for him to be one of those

this is a serious period drama not some fluffy bodice ripper

certain segments of fandom would disagree

yeah but certain segments of fandom would need to care about the bodice wearers in the first place

woo hoo internalized misogyny

it's a helluva drug