@Comet That last match had finally hit her hard. Whoever brewed the ales and whatever hellish combination they had used was wearing through her fairly sturdy constitution. Enough nights in cold campsites with alcohol passed around between people to keep warm and light of spirit had won her a respectable tolerance for the liquid poison. She had also developed a sweet tooth, but she could handle other drinks. They were just kind of really fucking gross. Luckily, the amount of alcohol she had imbibed seemed to be teaching her taste buds that they didn't need to focus on that. She pressed a cold drink to her forehead for a moment to bring everything back to focus before she saw a streak of red through the heavy glass. Gwyn lowered the drink and caught the eyes of the woman. "Evenin'," she grinned, "up for a round? My treat... forget that it's all free, definitely my treat." She laughed lightly and gestured to the chair the Felis before had abandoned after humbling the archer. "You look like you've already been through a few bouts. You alright?" She leaned forward, elbow digging hard into the grain of the wooden table beneath it, "What's say we make it worse?" Wellness: - 20 Drunkenness: + 30 Thrown dice: 95 57 73 73 33 88 45 81 Win: 3 / Lose: 1 Total: 555
Stumbling from chair to chair, or making do on the ground, Comet felt no stranger to ale in contrast to how much she had felt uncomfortable with the drink in the beginning. The taste never became her friend but the familiarity of the 8 mugs settled before her and gulping down more than felt right to take in became a sort of addiction. The addiction to winning, gambling luck, gave off an adrenaline rush that challenged the buzz of being tainted with drunkenness. With a clumsy move she settled in a chair but couldn't stop trembling. Some part of her body had to moving or she would go crazy with the tension of staying still. Comet had to move and move fast to beat the dizziness and the sickness and the rest of the filthy crowd she'd became a part of without realizing. "Good luck with that." she scoffed before aggressively chugging the ale, using a deep anger to channel further persistence that would hopefully have her winning by the end of the competition. Wellness: - 00 Drunkenness: + 75 Thrown dice: 13 45 62 15 6 73 97 80 Win: 3 / Lose: 4
