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[Harry Baldman]

Grab an umbrella, and leaf through the erotic novel as I follow the cat.

"How is filth like this even still around? Didn't I order all seditious and distracting material to be burned?"

[Kadzar]

((Posting to watch drunken antics))

[S34N1C]

Waitlist me

Spoiler: ill bash ye fookin ed in i sware on me mum (click to show/hide)

Name: Lucky Zaford
Description: 'Es an Irishman throu an throu. 'E luvs a stout drinka wiskee in da mornin an you better bugger off if ye bother im befor 'e gits it.
Drunken element:Tavern songs

[TheBiggerFish]

Spoiler: Waitlist! (click to show/hide)

Name: Waoao Flobibble
Backstory: Things Never To Drink If You Are Human: 1234567890 proof alcohol found by mucking about in reality's basement.
Drunken element: Spacetime.  Basically, they aren't wobbling, everything else is.

[NJW2000]

Aigre/Tony Abbot?

[NJW2000]

*This place is intresting, but why did he have to poison my food?* Jerry wonders
He goes through the north door
(Also, everything in *s are Jerry's thoughts, not what he's saying.)

Edit: Also, I have a question, how does the drunk element work? Does it mean, for example, Jerry could summon boxes?

(He could, though as a cat, his box related powers might well relate to sitting in them. Think Metal Gear, fr'instance.)

Pick up an erotic novel and a umbrella then follow the cat, they tend to know the best places to nap

Grab an umbrella, and leaf through the erotic novel as I follow the cat.

"How is filth like this even still around? Didn't I order all seditious and distracting material to be burned?"

You open the door marked North, and are immediately assulted by a bitter gale. On the plus side this clears your throbbing heads a little, though Allen's muscles do start to twitch uncontrollably. Seemingly defying all conventions of physics and logic, the door opens onto the deck of a thirty foot longboat lined with massive painted shields. Illuminated in the near-Arctic night by torches, several dozen burly men and women in furs and armour are in the process of getting smashed. Central to the occasion are a few massive barrels of mead and wine, a table laden with the charred remains of a reindeer, and a racous drinking song explaining the tangled anscestry of the Norse gods.

The nearest warrior turns round and notices you, bellows, "Welcome to the Ormurinn Langi Raiding Expedition!", then goes back to swigging from a drinking horn.

You consider taking a swig from a nearby barrel, but the thought of alcohol so soon provokes even your hedonistic little mammal-brains to disgust. Better find a way to do something about that.

You percieve an emanation coming from the mast, as well as belowdecks and the other side of the boat. You more of feel it in your bones than see it, like some kind of awkwardly worked in game mechanic suggesting a portal or door into another dimension.

"Ugh, man what did I DO last night? Geez, even my eyes hur- wait a second, this isn't my room!"

Head into the east door.

You go through into a darkened room, light jazz playing in the background, the sounds of drinking and laughter all around. A stack of multicoloured chips are shoved into your hands and a lackey in evening wear nods at you familiarly... clearly, this is some kind of casino.

You stumble against someone, and dry retch a little, your stomach heaving. A small space clears around you respectfully, tuxedo'd men and artfully arranged women drawing back to give you room, clutching their martinis and champagne glasses tightly. Hey, you can make out the bar from here, as well as a couple of roulette and poker tables.

A lot of people are giving you odd looks. Must be the stubble or something.

You get a slight sensation of other portals to your left and right (North and South).

Retrieve an erotic novel from the bin. See if I can manipulate the pages with a pseudopod.

[4-1]

You manage to get the novel out, but don't have the concentration to properly turn the pages. Not like you wanted to read any of that weird non-mitosis porn anyway.

Spoiler: Inventory/Status (click to show/hide)

Prometheus the Destroyer   HUNGOVER
Unpleasant human pornographic writings.

Shelly Ton  HUNGOVER
Casino chips

Name:Jerry the Puuuur-fect  HUNGOVER


Allen Aries Amberg  HUNGOVER
Umbrella
Erotic Novel

Zhao Zheng  HUNGOVER
Umbrella
Erotic Novel


Tony Abott  HUNGOVER             

[TankKit]

Immediatly look for the most comftorable looking box there is, and sit in it (BTW, Jerry may or may not be based of off my RL cat, who likes boxes alot)

[Harry Baldman]

Taste of the charred reindeer. Bacon is a renowned hangover cure. Perhaps this is close enough?

[Yottawhat]

Go up to a roulette table and bet half my chips on black.

[ziizo]

try to exchange the novel for a fur coat, is cold here and will probably become colder.

[NJW2000]

...right. Waitlisters will be put in in a turn or two. Will update within 24 hrs.

[NJW2000]

Taste of the charred reindeer. Bacon is a renowned hangover cure. Perhaps this is close enough?

[6-1]

You grab a handful of smouldering meat from the plate of a soused Viking and devour it with gusto. Afterwards, you wonder if a little less gusto might have improved the taste.

Stomach full, you contentedly stare out over the wine-dark sea picking fragments of antler out of your teeth. Slowly, your headache starts to recede, and the unpleasant buzzing in your ears is replaced by the melancholy drinking songs of a savage but appreciable nation.

All at once, a brilliant golden glow surrounds you, just as your hangover finishes clearing. The nearby raiders turn and cheer, one pressing  mug of foaming ale into your hand, and despite the machinations of your idiot physician, life seems worth living.

try to exchange the novel for a fur coat, is cold here and will probably become colder.

1-1

Bones aching with cold, you walk up to the nearest massive Nordic warrior and explain your intentions through sign language. The drunken giant does not react well to some pipsqueak grabbing his cloak and throwing a random scroll at him, and with a devestating uppercut he sends you flying across the ship. As your vision clears, you see him walking towards you across the deck, shoving chairs and Vikings out of his path before grabbing an axe embedded in the mast. Ulp.

Immediatly look for the most comftorable looking box there is, and sit in it (BTW, Jerry may or may not be based of off my RL cat, who likes boxes alot)

[5-1]

This ship is apparently the fucking worst, because there are no boxes at all. You try sitting in barrels and crates, but they just aren't comfortable enough for a hungover feline prince. The ham-fisted inebriated blond men trying to grab and pet you aren't helping matters either.

Go up to a roulette table and bet half my chips on black.

You lose, and dry retch over the table. The spinning coloured wheel is hypnotic and painful to look at simultaneously, and before you know it you're under the table, vision sprinkled with stars.

[Harry Baldman]

"Savage, but adequate. Now!"

BEER BEER

[ziizo]

Jump out of the ship, don't notice how bad of a idea this is until is too late.

[Maegil]

PTW

Spoiler: Surefire hangover cures involve Massilian soap: (click to show/hide)