Ozerath

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So, how are folks doing 1 day before christmas?

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That is entirely possible.

Also, I posted. Connor's at 2 fingers left.

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Connor MacQuarrie

At some point, somehow, Connor had lost his shirt and acquired the hat component of one of the bear costumes.He had also somehow done that while not missing any of the game. He was down to three fingers; after the first two from Nate and Hal, he lost a third to Maie for his stint stealing street signs one summer. Another went down to Emilie’s impossibly naive question; he’d actually stopped and stared at her for a second. Never in a million years would Connor have guessed that someone with Emilie’s looks would still be a virgin this late into high school. “Gucci,” he said affirmingly, as a he took a drink.

Laney’s question was pretty loaded. “LAHNAY. Harsh bruh, so harsh,” he called out, putting down his fifth finger and finishing his drink. He’d barely finished refilling his cup before Aspen’s question had him drinking again. Connor noticed that Alyssa Boudreau across the circle was not drinking for that one, and she was pointedly avoiding making eye contact. Well, that was her perogative, but it it did make him chuckle. In a shower stall after swim practice counted as public right?

The new kid obviously couldn’t handle his liquor, and proceeded to make a total ass of himself. From the look of it, he’d be hugging toilets soon, but that fell squarely into the category ‘not mah prawblem’. It was a good question though, and gave Connor a chance to stop drinking for a second. He hadn’t properly met the new kid, but the red hair and weird contacts really bugged him. The kid thought he was so edgy, or cool, but really he looked like a shitty cosplay. Everything about him rubbed Connor the wrong way. “Arrested? 2Edgy4me!” he hollered out, eliciting some drunken laughter around the circle.

Brooke’s question dropped a wave of fingers all over the room, Connor’s included. There was much giggling involved too, and probably a lot of wild mass guessing. Connor didn’t pay any attention to it, enough people had put down a finger there was no point trying to figure out the connections.

And then Spencer barged into the circle and downed a whole bottle without even looking at it. A rhythmic chant of “chug, chug, chug!” built up around him. Connor looked at Spencer, bemused for a moment, then shrugged, clapped his hands, put down a finger, and took a drink. With that, he was down to two fingers.

Connor was a veteran drinker, and while many people here would be kissing porcelain soon, he had the distinction of being over a year puke free. He was quiet for a moment, then started touching his own face with open palms. Hmmmm, somewhere a little past ‘smashed’, but far off from ‘wasted’ or ‘gone’. He poured his next drink with only a splash of vodka, enough to sustain his current level of drunk without escalating any further, for the moment. After all, the night was still young.

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Hey sorry back, spent most of the weekend binge writing an essay.

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@RaijinslayerOrite. Ok, will PM you my thoughts.

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Guess I should go again, I'll have something up sometime tomorrow.

EDIT: Connor's down to 3 fingers as of Korrie's question. I think he'll be first out at this rate. Still working on that post, busy day today.

@RaijinSlayer I was rethinking Connor and Korrie's relationship. You mind checking my notes on the pirate pad, give some input?

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Well, nobody's out yet, so next person's turn for a question

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Connor MacQuarrie

As soon as they got there, Connor began liberally distributing vodka like some kind of alcoholic Santa Claus. He briefly lamented not bringing any beer for himself, but he was quickly able to arrange a trade with Nick Dawson, and almost immediately got into beer pong. There were a few people gathered around a regulation sized folding beer pong table (Connor’s own birthday present to Aspen the previous year), tossing balls around with minimal success. One of the players, a freshman Connor vaguely recognized, threw an underhand shot that went wide. Connor deftly snatched it out of the air. “Tisk tisk scrublords, that is not how you pray game!”

“Hey! I was winning!” the frosh complained. “By one cup, we aint got all night son,” Connor replied. The frosh was about to say something more but Connor cut him off “Bud, your game is pasghetti weaksauce. Fear not, I will teach you the ways of the pong, young skyfrosh.”

Connor put more cups down, bringing each side back up to an even six, then raised his voice and adopted a solemn tone. “Listen up, swaglets. These are the rules of the pongmasters, passed down from generation to generation, all the way from Ghengis Pong. Teams of 2; this is a party, drunkness must be maximized top speed. No underhand shots; your days of scrub are over. No blocking; if it touches your body before it reaches a cup, you drink. Both players score, drink em up then give the balls back. 2 balls in 1 cup, drink that cup and all the cups it touches. You get 1 rearrange, do not waste it. Bounce shots are allowed to be blocked, but if they get in, drink 2 cups. If it’s circling, you may blow it out, no fingers. Lastly, redemption is for pussys, take your loss with some dignity. So say I, Conan the Barbari-pong. Skyfrosh, you’re with me. Step up or step away chumps!”

Connor knew there was a balance to beer pong; a plateau of optimum drunkenness where you played your best. Getting up to the plateau was easy, staying there was hard. A cup too many, and you tipped over the edge onto the slippery slope ranging from ‘too drunk for beer pong’ to ‘yakking your guts out’. Connor and Skyfrosh (mostly Connor) won their first game easily against Nick and a random sophomore. They lost their second game though, to a pair of freshman girls who were a lot more skilled than they looked. By their third game, Connor hit the plateau and won, and their fourth, he sank each of his shots with brutal efficiency.

The thing was, he quickly depleted his traded beer, so Connor started putting vodka and Jam! Nitro in his cups. On top of that, he kept a separate drinking drink on the go, first beer, then his personal concoction. The beer pong table grew louder and more excited as the games went by, friends and strangers alike watching each shot with baited breath, exchanging jibes and jokes.

By the time Acacia started up a game of Never Have I Ever, he was pretty sauced, and as the game went on he kept on having to drink. Nate’s question caused him to drink again; he was down to four fingers, and then it was his turn. “Bruh. Why have I done so many thaaangs. Ok. Alright. Gucci. Ice. Never have I ever…” he paused, “had a sister!” he announced triumphantly, clapping his hand on Nate’s shoulder.

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Saw it pie, all good.

I'll get a post together sometime tonight or tomorrow.

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Seems sensible, truth or dare would be a good collaborative one. Never Have I Ever could also work.

On my end, I'm thinking over some 1 on 1 interactions for Connor at the party. I punched up my brainstorming on the pad, check it out if you feel so inclined.