[u][i][b]Charles, Dimitri, Twain[/b][/i][/u]
[[@Arty Fox][@Affili]]
 
Twain was laughing out loud. Drunkenly speaking with his hands. “She’s just playing hard-to-get. Mark my words… That little spark will be back for more of this!” He gestured with his hands to himself, and stumbled a bit to one side. His sheepish drunken smile widened. And he managed somehow to sit back down at the table. 
 
“A safe word!?” He guffawed. “It’s got to have a nice ring to it! We are exploring the most dangerous of all magics, you know. Something quick, maybe even funny, Pizza? Hm… That won’t work because it should be something you wouldn’t normally say. Like… Banister or… Zucchini boobs… ooooooooor aaaahh….” He giggled between each suggestion…
 
Then he stopped. Suddenly his smile fell from his face like a bird shot out of the air. He tried to stand quickly, but, was too drunk. He knocked over his chair on his way to the ground. He landed flat on his back, knocking the air from his lungs. It took him a few moments to catch his breath, a supremely shocked look on his face, he coughed every so often. 
 
“Zesiro…” he blinked, looking around for Dimitri and Charles. “Zesiro’s like… ah… I think… Crap… Someone help me up!”