"Quite. Dying starts to lose its appeal after that first time, dear."
Sticking his tongue out at Jovi, Nathan poked her forehead with his index finger as she was grabbing another shot.
"If anyone here's a pansy, it'd be you, lightweight. Looks like those shots are already hitting you pretty hard. Tut tut."
Leaning back against the bar counter, he sighed through his nose while Jovi complained about the heat. When she almost pulled her tank top off along with the sweater, he let out a bit of a wolf whistle. More out of fun than anything. She wasn't immune to his jesting after all, not at all.
"Uh oh, looks like she's got her game face on. You're in for it now, Tanks."
Chuckling lightly, he saw that Tankie had finished with his fifth shot. Their little wager would be over soon enough, and although Jovi seemed to be holding up alright for now, that probably wouldn't be the case for much longer. She was human after all, as far as he could remember.
"I'm not a lightweight! I got this, Nathan." She struck her tongue back out at him and looked back at Tankie. After taking the fifth shot, Jovi would lean against the counter to keep her balance. Yes, she was feeling it now. The room was spinning and her cheeks became a brighter blush. "Yeah, you sure are in it noooow, Taaanksss." She began to speak with a slur in her words. She'd giggle as she tried to pour the next shot for herself, but ended up getting some vodka on the counter instead of the shot glass. Not realizing she did so, she tried taking the shot anyway. "That's six!" she exclaimed as she slammed the shot glass back on the counter. "I'm gonna get you nooow, waahahaa~" She began dancing drunkenly, swinging her hips back and fourth while moving her arms forward and backward. "What do you think, Nathan?" She looked over at him and smiled. She now began to move over to him, maneuvering around the stool she sat on. While still dancing, she asked, "Who's gonna win, that mm... crotch rocket! Or me, the champion!"
Crotch rocket? She was definitely drunk now, she couldn't even think of another insult for Tankie that made sense. Jovi stopped dancing and inched closer to Nathan. A smirk spread across her lips as she leaned forward against him, her bosom brushing against his chest. She rested her hands on his thighs, and her face was next to his now. She began whispering in his ear, "Wanna pour me another shot, big boy?"
Jovi's motives weren't clear anymore; not even to herself. Was she trying to make Tankie jealous or was it just the alcohol taking over her actions? Maybe it was that wolf whistle she received from Nathan that encouraged her. Who knows, either way things were probably not going to go well after this scene she pulled.
( Josh, you post next. xD I wanna see Nathan's reaction. )
Nathan would have been more than happy simply watching Jovi act like a goofball, but then she started to get a bit too close. Altogether it wasn't that surprising though, since alcohol tended to remove inhibitions and such. And with Tankie right next to him, well, this was an uncomfortable situation, to say the least.
"Crotch... what. I'm not su--"
Had he been able to finish his sentence, he would've said something about that being a rather odd name to call someone. But instead, she decided to breach a little thing we like to call personal space. Not wanting to push her, since she'd probably fall over if he so much as breathed on her, Nathan just kind of... sat there. Despite her obvious advances, Nathan still didn't see Jovi as a person he would hook up with. Not because she wasn't attractive, but because she was like more of a sister than anything.
"I think you've had plenty, kiddo. Wouldn't want you spewing all over these nice clothes of mine."
Since he didn't have much room to maneuver, what with her pressed up against him and all, Nathan stretched his neck off to the side in an attempt to put some distance between his ear and her lips.
"Do you mind uh... well, not basically sitting on me? I'm sure Tankie would appreciate this whole business a lot more than I do."
Accenting the latter half of his comment, he gestured idly at her body, taking care not to make contact.
Yes. Victory was within his sights now, he watched as she fumbled around, slurring her words. Unable to pour herself another glass without spilling the majority of the contents onto the counter. He'd then spectate with great amusement when she began shaking her hips and swinging her arms back in forth in a drunken attempt to dance. A smile spread across his face, he rose from his rested position against the counter top. He was about to declare himself the victor, she obviously wasn't capable of hanging with the demon. Then it happened. He was unsure of what Nathan had done, but he had done something! Perhaps it was that wolf whistled that wooed the women he sought after? It didn't matter, all he knew and could reaffirm with his own eyes was that one of his closest friends was all hugged up with the girl he proclaimed probable love for not more than a few minutes ago. The warriors movements were quick and sharp, precise and deliberate. It was as if he was on the battlefield for the first time in years. Maneuvering his way around the counter, he stomped towards them with muscles tensed. His arm stretched out, palm open, grasping the intoxicated woman around her right arm, wrenching her away from Nathan.
Man, he thought they were friends, but here he was trying to steal Jovi away. He seemed to ignore the fact, the tank top adorned women was the cause of all this. Nathan wanted out of this awkward situation just as much as the demon, his voice would sound with an untold ferocity. One neither of the two had probably been accustomed too. Had he been hollering he certainly would have had the walls vibrating from the volume of his voice alone, but though intense, he spoke at a mild volume. "Yo, Nathan. This is what you do, huh? We haven't seen each other in years and the first thing you do is try to steal away the girl I think I love! She's mine!" He questioned, hostility shaping every feature of his face. Nathan probably hadn't seen the demon like this, unless he counted the first time they met in battle. The one time they could have been considered enemies. "I haven't been forced to kill someone close to me in a long while, but you're really making me weigh my options right now!" Oh, boy, the demon sure was serious. A cold blooded warrior, stern and ferocious in the field of battle. He hadn't truly allowed much of his emotions to show in the past, but it was obvious. The crimsoned hued demon was jealous! He had released Jovi from his grip, his arms failing to his side, hands squeezed into a tight fist. He was one wrong word away from throwing a hay maker into the side of his friends head.
It truly was a shame the demon had reacted so quickly to the situation. Otherwise he would have heard his comrades later statement, one that could have diffused this whole ordeal before it even started. Hopefully either Nathan or the intoxicated Jovi could find a away to settle the demon before he resorted to violence. If this was all a ploy by his intoxicated desire to get the demon jealous. Her plan had proved to be wildly successful.
(( What about that one place that just got revived you were telling me about? ))
Well, the situation had sort of half worked itself out. Jovi wasn't on top of him anymore, thankfully, but now Tankie was basically a coiled serpent ready to strike. In hindsight, the whistle wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done in his life, since Jovi was smashed and Tankie must have been slightly buzzed at this point. Leaving his hands at chest level in the surrender position, Nathan just let the demon talk. Best let him get this out of the way now, since apparently he hadn't heard the rest of the deadman's comments. His eyes narrowed slightly at the threat, but he maintained his composure.
"I'm sure we'd both love to have a crack at each other, just like old times, but not under these circumstances. As you can plainly see, she's hammered, and I'm not trying to egg on her advances in any way."
Sighing deeply through his nose, Nathan dropped his hands so he could rest the palms of them on his thighs.
"Now, if you don't mind, could you uncurl that fist of yours? Unless you still feel like punching me, that is."
He was quite certain that one punch wouldn't do much more than tickle, so he wasn't really concerned. Not that he felt like getting punched in the side of the head, but he'd had much worse.