[Day 230] We're still not dead! Time to get drunk until we are

[bastionpc]

Who: Georges, you, and so much alcohol
Open: Open
When: Day 230, from noon til night
Where: Inside and outside the Distillery
What: In which planning is attempted, an obnoxious amount of booze is shoved at everyone, and Georges needs help with some things
Format: Pick your poison
Warnings: Drunk shenanigans at some point, likely


So, in the morning, Georges makes sure to stop anyone before they can go out onto the Skyway or get a bite to eat, or basically attempt to carry on with their lives like normal. With the most recent near death experience, he seems to be aiming to be more insistently friendly, apparently.

"Hey there! I got everyone together for some drinks, well, last time since we all needed one after that and I figured why not do it again? Come over to the Distillery later today, and I'll have some things whipped up! Oh- and by the way. That Ura fella, Zulf, he wanted folks to meet up and try and figure a few things out, get a bit more organization 'round here I suppose. If you could pass this around, that'd be great!"

And, sure enough, at around noon-ish Georges has once again set up some things. There are tables just outside the distillery, the largest he could manage (which is just a couple pressed up against one another) done up specifically for anyone who wants to sit around and be responsible.

For those who don't care about or don't trust themselves with responsibility, there's a couple smaller tables scattered about both inside and outside. As usual, Georges is behind the bar with a row of bottles on display. Ask him about them, chat with one another, or just focus on getting utterly and completely smashed, do as you like.

Maybe if you're chatty enough, you might even get roped into something.

Comments

[fuckthemancers]

I highly doubt I am going to have another breakdown while I'm trying to take a break and enjoy myself after we've all been talking so much.

[He's getting a bit snappish, he knows, but it's a sore subject and he'd rather not be berated by a drunk.]

[four_quarts]

[He may be drunk, but he's a drunk who's over a thousand years old. He's seen some shit, man.]

Oh, of course not now. It's far too bright with the relief of escaping death once again. No, the pain comes when no one else is there to witness it. Trust me, I know all too well how this works.

[fuckthemancers]

Do you now> Do you know how it works well enough to know that I'm getting quite sick of this conversation?

[four_quarts]

I do, and that is why I leave you here. I've said my piece, and I'm sure you're quite sick of my voice now.

Good day, sir.

[With that he gets up surprisingly gracefully and walks away.]