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Sharing had left her bottle of whiskey, less than half full, which meant taking small drinks than she had before. Shoplifted, drink. No tattoos. Pierced ears demanded a drink. And then things began to take on a more--she narrowed her eyes at the two men--personal and decidedly somber air.

She didn't even move the bottle at the question of cheating and she was suddenly too aware of the fact two of her favorite people were missing. She wondered if they'd have to take a drink to that question, decided she didn't want to know if they did.

A punch deserved a drink and then--she elbowed Zan briefly as she turned a half amused half scolding look in his direction--she took her own drink. The fun was leaking out of this game like a punctured balloon and she perched her chin on Zan's shoulder.

"You're evil," she teased, "adding to their drama like that." And yet there was mischief in her eyes. She did not however add another question to the game; not yet.

Things were already starting to get a little rosier than he would have normally let them, the grin that bloomed in response to Marisol's declaration a little goofier too.

"I didn't mean to be," he whispered, watching the drunk and uncomfortable show take a commercial break. He had posed a perfectly convoluted question for his own amusement, just to see how it would be interpreted. Although he was pretty sure the pair of pale gentlemen had taken it in the way opposite from what he'd intended, he appreciated that he could tell their answers even so.

Zan tilted his head toward the one on his shoulder for a moment in thanks for the booze and amusement, his attention still on Jan and Rodney.

Rob didn't drink for cheating -- he'd never do that to someone, he thought, watching the interaction between Rodney and Jan, who seemed to be getting well and truly drunk -- but he did drink for punching someone. He drained his entire bottle, in fact, and cracked open a third one, taking a sip from it. He couldn't remember how many fights he'd been in during his young life. Part of it was the punk thing; you were kind of expected to put the boot in if you were a punk. But part of it was just how he was: belligerent, fond of a quarrel, more inclined to think with his fists than his head. Maybe taking up brewing beer would calm some of that.

As for falling in love… With a grin he just sat there and eyed everyone else. He'd never been in love, though he'd been terribly fond of particular girls. He wasn't sure what it would even feel like to be in love. Something in him was a little wistful.

Then Briiva made a statement that had Rob sputtering with laughter. "Burnt me eyebrows off? No, I can't say as I've ever done that!" he proclaimed, reaching for another slice of pizza. He didn't follow up with a statement of his own, not yet anyway. This was a great game -- he was really getting to know the other Chosen who were playing.

He looked over at Mercy, still chuckling to himself. "How you doing, love? Need a drink?"

"These are all so lame." Asher looked a little cross -- maybe because the only one he drank to was in regards to punching someone. And maybe because he was annoyed at how much that revealed. No great loves, here, no cheating, nothing that rang as fun in the room. It left his eyebrows pulled down and a frown on his face.

"Never have I ever smoked pot." Which, admittedly, was also lame. But it allowed him to drain his cup.

Rodney looked concerned at Jan's plea for picking something he hadn't done. He took a thankful drink for reality television. It was hard to avoid, although he couldn't stomach the dating shows because they felt so...wrong. Unnatural. The feelings...weren't right. He didn't drink for pot.

"Never have I ever...killed someone?" He asked, hopefully.

Rodney didn't drink after.

There were reasons someone might have. There was no reason to think anyone in this room wouldn't have done something like that if it wasn't...for a good reason. Like military service, or self defence. The gods...chose people for good reasons, didn't they? Jan didn't exactly have a military bearing.

Rodney gave Jan's back some concerned pats.

Cheating wasn't something Mercy could drink to. She never understood why someone would even want to do something like that in the first place, it seemed like a lot of work. She did drink to getting a tattoo and a piercing, the tattoo peeking from underneath the shirt she wore while she pierced belly button was currently hidden. Punching was something she's done plenty of times in the past, so she drained her glass of wine, giggling a little at Jan and the young man that was currently tending to him.

She turned her head to Rob and smiled, walking over towards him and plopping herself in his lap. "Hit me!~" Maybe she could get Rob to carry her princess style again to her dorm? Pfft! What are friends for anyway?! She could ask Edward, but she didn't think he would be up for something like that, even if they were roomies. Sad really, but eh...What could you do? She hasn't lied [yet] to get a job so she couldn't drink to that.

Smoking pot? Nah, not her deal.

Killing someone? Mercy took Rob's cup and downed the entire thing, clearing her throat. Ahhh....No one knew what her actual job was right? So her reasoning could literally be anything.

"Never have I ever had sex in public"

hopefully, that would get everything back on track. She would drink to that once she had more booze.