A drinking contest. ( Open. )

Thomas lone sat on the stool of the bar having a shot and trying to ignore the music. The establishment was running a drinking contest that he had been roped into because he was the heaviest alcoholic here. People cheered him on as he sipped his 7th glass of whisky. god this is infuriating regardless, all were welcome to join and as long as you kept it down it was free.

The door made a quiet creaking noise as Cali slipped into the establishment, her arms crossed as she pulled her trench coat together in a desperate attempt to try and warm herself somewhat "Stupid rain" The dark weapon muttered to herself and edged her way towards the bar, taking a seat furthest away from everyone else. Socializing came third on her list of things she hated to do the most, but there was no way she was going to stay out in that weather for any longer. She would have to put up with this place for a while. Yet the warmth was nice, and letting out a content sigh at the welcome change of temperature Cali caught the bartenders attention and ordered a shot of vodka. This stuff combined with the nice heated interior of the building would definitely improve her mood.

The bartender walks up and gives Cali a glass of vodka. " No charge if you join the contest. "

Droon sat opposite Thomas, the primary opposition to his success in this particular game. He may not be an excessive drinker, but he was no stranger to alcohol. On top of this he had a cat-iron stomach with will-power to match, though it was clear from a glance at his opponent that he would need both to win. The man just didn't look right. He stunk of alcohol before he even started the contest! Droon was a tad more showy than most of the competitors to, tossing some drinks in the air, or using his prehensile tongue to lift the shot glass. In general just making it into more of a performance.

Showoff. Thomas thought as he knocked the rest of his drink back before tapping the counter to let the bartender know he needed service. He wasn't relying on willpower or a cast iron stomach. Just on a ridiculously high tolerance and a total lack of given f@#$%. regardless his vision was swimming as if he had pored the drink straight onto his eyes. he remembered a contest with Gabriel, that underage punk used alchemy to neutralize all the alcohol before it passed his lips. The douche was fine wile Thomas woke up in a barstool the next morning smashed. however he was somewhat motivated by the prize, free drinks for the month. at least until the next contest was held.

Jet sits next to Droon and Thomas and says "Nice moves Droon I see you have improved." Jet picks up/his glass balances it on the tip of his rapier blade spins it a few times transforms his hand back catches the falling glass then chugs the small shot glass

Droon rolls his eyes and swallows another glass "you betcha." He eyes his blade and jokes "but at least I'm not part robot, it's just not fair anymore."

" That's one bottle for Thomas. " Said the bartender as he popped open a new one. " You have some work ahead of you to catch up. " He said starting on another.

Beth walked into Chupa Cabra in a hurry. She waz nearly freezing from the inside anx out. She wasn't used to this weather. She took a seat at the bar and smiled at the bartender. "Could I get sime bourbon?" She asked in a sincere tone.

" Sure! " He said. " Pull up a chair. " He poured a glass of contest bourbon and slid it down the table.

Beth stopped the motion of the cup by only using a finger. "Thanks and I am only dropping by."