[color=a36209]"Hm,"[/color] Faolan grunted in mock-anger, though his slight smile betrayed his true mood, [color=a36209]"Glad I can entertain you."[/color] He let Lucien pour, watching the amber liquid fill the bottom of his glass. It would take more than two shots of Whiskey to get Faolan drunk, even at his least resilient, he could easily down four or five before he started to feel really woozy, but he could already feel the warmth from the first drink swirling in his stomach. Luckily for him, he had just eaten nearly an entire loaf of bread from the bakery before coming here. He had some 'gas left in the tank' as American's said.

At Lucien's next comment as the two raised his glass, he couldn't help but pause. The thought of carrying Lucien out of here...or anywhere for that matter, made the warmth in his cheeks intensify. In order to hide this, he threw the second drink back and put it back down onto the bar, a little more forcefully this time. He wasn't sure why Lucien had him all bothered at the moment, but he didn't exactly dislike the feeling.

He knew that his Irish constitution would cause his cheeks, neck, and chest to redden the more he drank, but this was not a testament to his drunkenness so much as a marker that he had enjoyed some whiskey. Perhaps this would allow Lucien to grow overconfident and end the charade early, but he wasn't about to hope for that just yet.

[color=a36209]"It does get better the more you drink,"[/color] Faolan said, sniffing in as he felt his nose beginning to run, [color=a36209]"But then it gets worse, fast."[/color] He added, chuckling to himself a little. [color=a36209]"We should take a break, let it settle, then go in for another one if you're still feeling steady."[/color] Despite his full belly, even Faolan knew that drinking this fast would only result with the both of them neck-deep in a toilet bowl. He definitely wanted to avoid that, even if it meant he had to "lose" Lucien's little game.