This Is Where The Title Would Go If We Were Sensible

Who: Amber, Marwood, Keto & Shakespeare
Where: Hotel Bar, New Hawaii
When: Then
====================
Amber slumped onto the bar and ordered a drink. A strong drink that
had the potential to kill braincells. It was a bar, not a nice bar,
but a bar nontheless, and club music played so loudly that she could
feel the bass beat in her chest. People squirmed on the dancefloor and
sweated ion the hawiian heat. Amber sat at the bar, ignoring them all,
and drank.
She felt a presence sit down beside her and, thinking it was some
drunken holidaymaker, did her best to ignore them. the person started
to tap her on the arm, trying to get her attention. "What the hell do
you want?" she snapped eventually. The person it turned out, was Peter
Marwood, one of her fellow pilots. "Oh God, sorry" she said, trying to
apologise. "No worries ma'am" smiled Peter "Can I get you a drink?"
"Sure thing fly boy." Amber said with a little venom, the drink
already beginning to affect her as she was such a lightweight.
"Ok, what you having? same again?" he asked the slightly sloshed
Lieutenant, who nodded in reply. He ordered a pint of Fosters from the
barman and another of the multicoloured cocktails for Amber. "Cheers"
she slurred slightly, taking a sip from the drink. "No worries,
Lieutenant" smiled Peter at her.
"Bah!" muttered a surly-sounding voice from the other side of Amber.
Peter leaned to look round her. Amber ignored the voice,
concentrating on her drink for a moment. Keto, looking very
dishevelled and nursing a small whisky and a large bowl of peanuts,
was sitting on the stool further along the bar. 'Sitting' might be
too ordinary a word. He was slumped, propped and leaning all at once.
He glared at the two of them.
"Plotting," he muttered, "Plotting against me. You brought him down
here, didn't you, hmm?"
Shakespeare stumbled down the corridor towards the bar area, covered
in dust, dirt and water. He shook his head, throwing spiders in all
directions and cursed his lack of Hawaiian knowledge. The basement
had not been pretty and all he wanted to go to was the bar.
Spotting the bar's glow he happily skipped towards it and up to the
counter, sitting next to Marwood, Amber and Keto.
"Fair greetings comrades!" he said, beaming and pointing to a green
looking drink on the wall behind the barman.
"Kinds't sir, I shallst please be hathing that'st!"
"YOU!" yelled Keto, launching a handful of peanuts in Shakespeare's
general direction. Unfortunately his aim wasn't at its best, and most
of the peanuts missed Shakespeare completely, instead peppering the
barman, Peter and the back of Amber's head. The movement of the
violent throw also upset Keto's delicate drunken balancing act on the
stool, leading to him sliding forwards and then toppling, one flailing
arm catching the peanut bowl. He fell to the floor with an audible
thud, the peanuts dropping on top of his head.
Amber, Peter and Shakespeare burst into laughter at the sight of Keto
on the floor, after his rather literal fall from grace. "Ah, Charles"
breathed Shakespeare, wiping away a tear from his eye "You doth
bringest much merriment to thou". Peter finished his pint and ordered
another, Amber followed suit, now onto her third tripple-stregnth
concoction of, going by the taste, a mixture of meths & paintstripper.
Amber was enjoying the tase of the cocktail mixture, it was fruity and
coconutty, with a hint of something that was slowly tempprarilly
killing her tastebuds.
"You know...." She said slowly, concentrating on her words. "This
drink has some of that fluffy coconut pink whatchamacallit in it.
It'ss really good. You sshould get one" She grinned at Peter and
Shakespeare "Shaksey... my old english compadre...., you need to catch
up." she grinned wickedly and downed the rest of the pink nightmare.
Shakespeare looked at Amber and then at his glass, then around the bar.
"Catchest up?" He looked upwards. "Are we'st playing a gameth of
kinds? In which catchings't ist the notion?"
Amber laughed and shook her head. "No silly, you need to drink more!"
"Ahs't! Understood fair maiden!"
Shakespeare downed his green liquid and asked the barman for another,
this time blue.
A hand shakily rose up above the bar from ground level.
"More peanutsh. Now."
The hand retreated.
Peter looked at his pint and realised it was empty. To save time
ordering, he ordered an extra three pints, a bottle of vodka, and four
shot glasses. He took out his packet of fags and lit up, drawing in
the smoke before exhaling slowly. Ciggie in one hand, pint in the
other, he alternated between smoking and drinking until both his fag
and drink were gone. Realising this, he grabbed and ate a handful of
peanuts from off the bar and began on his fourth pint. Shakespeare
also finished his and ordered another "exotic ale" as he put it.
Amber grabbed a bowl of peanuts off the bar and shakilly tipped it
over the edge and onto Keto's prone form. She stole a ciggarette off
Peter and smoked it like an expert. She shrugged off the strage looks.
"What?... I was a Blisssss addict... I can ssmoke anyfing." She
grinned idiotically and slurped her drink.
"Thanksh," came Keto's slurred voice from the floor, "Alsho, if y'ever
g'back on tha Blish stuff again, I'll THROW y'outta airlock. Ah
shmeg, thesh're pishtashiashos..."
A couple of empty nut husks were thrown up on the bar.
"Too many p'pl wantin' t' be god," muttered Keto's voice.
Shakespeare looked at his empty glass with fascination and concern.
It was empty, completely empty. Where had the drink gone? Surely it
hadn't gone inside him. He didn't remember drinking anything at all.
Wait, maybe he did.
"Miss Amber," he said, spluttering. "Mys't my't my word. What on
earth is occuring? The room is like a whirligig."
He shook his head. "I means't to sayeth, thy room is perchance
spinns't like upon gig thou'st whirls."
Was he drunk? That would entail drinking. Where was his drink?
Surely he hadn't drunk it.
Shakespeare's mind began looping on itself and he swayed on his stool.
"You're drunk!" Amber giggled, and pointed at shakespeare, the
movement causing her balence to be lost and she pitched over onto the
floor.
"Ow," came Keto's voice.
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OOC: This has been a joint post brought to you by Amber (Becca), Peter
(Grant), Shakespeare (Ryan), Keto (Chris) and by the letter Q. Mel,
CK, if you want to come down and join us then feel free. Otherwise,
continuing post later. :)