Edge Town-After Hours

Leon stepped back away from the splattered burning alcohol. It would burn out soon enough anyways. Still it was fun. He telekinetcally snagged a couple of root beers before Terrance could spike them assuming they hadn't already been spiked.

"So you didn't spike the root beer did you Alex?"

"I'm not doing strip poker. I spend enough time running around without clothes as it is. D&D liiied to me."

"If I did, I don't remember it."

Amy closed her eyes and began rooting around in her head, trying to think of how it was she identified herself as human. "Ay, Terry. Ya got any little pointers that could help me out?"

"Yay?"

Leon looked at the two bottles he had snagged and frowned. He had never drank before so he had no clue if he was under the effects of alcohol or not. He popped open on of the bottles and handed it to Terrance.

"Tell me if its spiked please."

The werewolf sniffed the bottle. "Smells clean. Can fix that."

He turned to Amy. "Try doing it on one of those days where everything is a pure crystal of wonderfulness and you feel you could light the sky on fire with your mind but you don't want to because that would mar the perfection. Or just spend the day with a bunch of dogs and no humans. Not really sure what did it."

"...Ah'm sorry, only tha last bit o' that made any sense."

In answer Terry simply hefted a bottle of vodka and pointed at it, face dead serious.

Amy glanced from the bottle to the White Court vampire, her concern obvious.

"Alright. If I get drunk. I'm bringing you down with me."

With that Leon chugged his fifth root beer down as he watched the alcohol fire peter out.

edited 9th May '13 6:44:14 PM by Kosjurake

"Root beer will not get you drunk. The roots don't have sugar, or something. Why is it called root beer, anyway? Also, I am already down, you cannot touch me."

"Please. I wouldn't need him to be drunk to get him in bed. Look, if I intended to have my wicked way with you whilst you were unaware, I would. Why would I go around blatantly raping people when I can get the willing to nearly literally fall into my lap? It's just not good business. Besides, I prefer the chase. It's no fun if you just go around randomly Hunger-attacking people. It's best if you can get them to honestly want it-need it."

He turns to the bar, pulling out various types of liquor.

"On that note, more drinks? Anyone?"

"I dunno. Don't really care either. It tastes good."

Leon waited for the fire to finish burning out. Then he reached over the counter to grab more everclear.

After a whispered conversation with Leon, Terrence held up a shot glass like it was the Holy Grail. "Ladies and gentlethings! Today, we find out once and for all what happens when you drink pepper spray mixed with absinthe! In the name! Of! Science!" He tossed back the shot, morphed out of his clothes, and jumped up on the recently-burning table to look expectantly at Leon.

Leon nodded as he poured the everclear over the drunk werewolf. He knew this was a terrible idea but something told him it didn't matter what he did in the bar. Once the wolf was soaked in the flammable liquid Leon snapped his fingers and conjured up a bit of fire to light Terrance up.

The alcohol didn't dull the pain quite as much as the werewolf had expected, but it was too late to back out now. He stampeded through the room, upsetting the card table, lunging playfully at the guests, and terrifying the not-paid-enough-for-this servers before he circled back to the bar to roll out the flames and shift back into his clothes. "Were you surprised? It is a Strawberry Surprise, sort of. This was Leon's idea. Hey Eir, you still do healing, right?"

Amy, meanwhile, was working on finding that switch. She sat in a corner of the room away from the festivities, to avoid Alex's attention as she downed a few shots of vodka. It felt bitter in her throat, but she didn't care. It took a few shots, but Russian vodka proved its potency, and pretty soon she was quietly drunk in the corner, still lost in hunting down that "switch."

Eir frowned. "I am not amused by you asking me to abuse my nature in the name of your own indulgence. Perhaps it would be more...fitting, were you to require nature to run its course."

Amused with the actions of everyone around him, Max decided to stop drinking for now; dropping.his glass off at the bar and stopping.out to get some air.

After a few.minutes of alone time, he walked back inside.

"Lady Eir." Max said as he took a seat next to her. " Enlighten me for a moment, how does the whole "choosing worthy dead" thing work? "

Eir seemed to ponder the question for a moment.

"It is simple, actually. Every time an individual who has sworn him or herself to the service of Asgard perishes, we look at the circumstances surrounding their deaths, a well as their battlefields up to then. Then, we determine how worthy they are as warriors. If they are worthy enough, a valkyrie will visit them upon their moment of death and carry their spirit off to Asgard for training. Whenever the Allfather has need of them, he will create a new body for them to inhabit upon their return to Midgard."

Jarl grinned. "Think of it like an exclusive 'get to smack heads in after you're dead' club that only people sworn to the service of the Aesir get a chance to experience. Or people whose ancestors made a pact with the old gods, as the case may be."

"Ah, then it sounds like I don't qualify." Max said with a smile. "I always assumed that it was just glorious death in battle that got you noticed, the whole service to the Allfather bit is kind of new. Thanks for clearing it up though, at the rate I'm going, I doubt it's going to be because of old age."

Eir shook her head. "There are some unique circumstances that may lead someone who does not serve the Allfather to being admitted to Valhalla. If a Valkyrie is nearby when a person dies, and the person died a warrior's death, she may claim their souls and send them to Valhalla."

Jarl took over. "Other people, like Terrence here, eat from the Allfather's table and sort of 'reserve' a seat in Valhalla if they die in combat. Think of it like a temporary offer."

"That's actually good to know." Max said as he pondered for a moment. "Though I doubt that that course of action would go over well with my father; then again I don't really listen to him anyway."

"So what's Valhalla like? Is it all Mead halls and attractive Valkyrie women, or did Hollywood get that wrong as well? "

"It would be more accurate to say that Hollywood is...partially correct. They grasp about half of the true purpose of Valhalla, that of housing warriors and legends who perished in battle, but what they often fail to account for is the secondary nature of Valhalla. We do not just store these warriors, we also train them. The films often leave out the battlefields, or the creatures that live in Valhalla that are neither gods nor Einherjar. Not to forget that Hollywood tends to leave out Fólkvangr, which is almost a greater disgrace."

"Only half of the warriors who fall in battle go to Valhalla. The other half go to Freya's hall, Fólkvangr. As the ratio of male to female warriors has gone up, it has become tradition that Freyja takes the female warriors, and Odin the male, though exceptions have occurred on numerous occasions." Jarl winced.

edited 10th May '13 4:51:03 AM by math792d

Kat looked up, at the werewolf and the warden. "What. the. hell?"