---
Sweet, delicious alcohol. Magnus loved the stuff, worshipped the stuff. He often carried a flask of it around just for the sake of having a supply near him all the time. The amount of alcohol he consumed could be a little terrifying to anyone who seriously watched him. Oddly enough, though, he never seemed to get drunk. Never ever get drunk. He couldn't get drunk. No way. No how. He was the king of alcohol.
The fae of intoxication looked at yet another empty glass and smirked at it. "Can't defeat me, ya silly cup." He kissed the rim with wet lips before sloppily jerking it forward and slamming it on top of the pirates' barrel of rum to prove that it was totally empty. The faerie pushed his face in really close to the cup to watch it, to make sure there wasn't a single drip attempting to escape.
...Ha. Check... and something. Magnus looked back up, just barely stopping himself from falling right over in the process. "Ya'... ya' demon." The faerie jerked his arm forward and pointed sloppily at the feral blue demon that he had so obviously defeated. "I'm the one with the steel livah 'round here." With a firm nod, Magnus slapped a hand on his gut.
That just made him a little ill, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, Magnus swiped up another cup and smashed his fist into the wooden barrel a couple of times, giving himself a splinter or two, until he remembered how to get the alcohol out. Then, it flowed freely into his cup, which Magnus grinned widely at.
"Ya can't beat me. I've got the powah. Powah of... winningness." Magnus raised his glass to the sky as if honoring some sort of god with his festivities before tipping it to his mouth and tilting his head back, letting the alcohol pour freely into his throat.
A snarl and a clattering cup skidding off the barrel top answered the fae's declaration of victory. "Nah so fast, you!" Kane sneered at the gloating fae, competitive spirit burning hot...despite the amount of alcohol he'd poured into himself by this point. The pair had started at the punchbowl earlier, then decided that the fruity drink, while decent, was far too tame for their tastes. They'd moved on to the pirate rum and that's when the competition had heated up.
Perhaps if Kane had realized Magnus was the fae of intoxication and some of what that entailed, he'd have had second thoughts about taking him on in a drinking competition. Then again, probably not.
"Yer only one ahead me! Ain't won yet!" Kane made a grab at another glass, growling at it slipped from his hands and tumbled after the first into the sand. "Dam you, cup!" he shouted at the offending container, nearly falling over as he leaned down to berate it. "Ge' back here and lemme' drink!"
Finally managing to get a hold on the elusive device, Kane paid no mind to the sand coating the sides as he rushed to refill it. The cursed fae was gaining on him! "Yer win...winningingness pow'r...er...sucks!"
That's when he realized the cold, wet sensation on his hand was the alcohol running out of the barrel and missing the cup completely. Growling, the demon rushed to save the precious alcohol, nearly knocking over the barrel in the process when he lost his balance and toppled into it.
Magnus sucked the rum out of the cup like a vacuum, loud noises and all. There couldn't be a solitary drop left in there, and he made sure of it. When he was sure he had sucked everything out of there, he stuffed his nose into the cup to take a large whiff of the dizzying substance. The fae visibly shuddered, before smashing this cup down next to his large line of cups on the barrel.
The challenger leaned diagonally towards Kane, flat as a board and hardly managing to stay up. "I... think ya have... the powah to loseeeee." The fae's grin was all too wide and insane, before he rocked back onto the balls of his feet just a little too far, leaning diagonally the opposite direction in the process.
And on his butt he went. But no matter! Magnus got on his hands and knees and snatched another unused cup from his collection before clawing his way back to the top of the barrel. He was going mountain climbing today. "'cause I'm two ahead of ya now, ya see." Magnus cut off Kane's flow of alcohol for a few moments to fill up his own cup before swirling away from the barrel.
The world was spinning, but that was just the way Magnus liked his world. Spinny. Like a top. Of psychedelic colors. And lots and lots of floating heads. And ponies. The faerie looked down at his glass before raising it up to the sky again. "FOR PONY!" declared the mildly less than sane one, before tipping his head a full ninety degrees and opening his mouth up wide like he was at the dentist.
The alcohol came pouring quickly, and oh how it burned so pleasantly. There was no way he was going to let that silly tiger demon feel more of the pleasant burn than him. This was his game on his playing field in his house with his winningness powah of pony.
The hazy-visioned demon attempted to swat the fae out of his path to the alcohol, but only managed to smack his hand against the barrel. Hissing and shaking his hand in the air, Kane bared his fangs before simply throwing the cup at Magnus. Poorly aimed of course.
"Ur a cheat'r! With the pow'r of...ugly!" he snapped irritably, barely looking at the fae as the demon suddenly had a brilliant idea. He'd stop the cheater by going straight to the source. Obviously, Magnus had done something to the cups to change the count, probably stole some of Kane's cups. So, forget the cups! Instead of filling another glass, he laid his head down beneath the spout and opened his mouth, letting the alcohol pour straight down his throat. The burning liquid, so hot and so cold at once, served as a wonderful distraction. Kane never pondered how he was supposed to keep count now without cups.
Ever since they'd started pouring drinks down their throats, especially that weird sweet punch, Kane'd felt a bit...strange. He'd initially chalked it up to the first good strong drink in a long time. The warmth and the haze certainly felt familiar in that sense. Still, something felt different about this drinking session. Yes, he was competitive by nature, but was there something in the drinks themselves that was driving him to pour more and more alcohol down his throat in this crazy competition with Magnus?
Oh, wait...alcohol flowing faster than the demon could drink. Coughing and sputtering, Kane tried to pull himself out of the path of the falling liquid, but only managed to get drenched in the stuff. Cursed booze from the sky trying to drown him! He rolled to the side instead, managing to escape the downspout of doom. He shook off some of the alcohol...then fell over on his side in the process. When he looked up through dripping silver locks, his icy blue eyes were both unfocused and yet...heated...as he sought out the fae.
"Ev'n 'gain, pritty boy! Now whatcha' gonna' do, huh? Loooooooose?!?"
Magnus kept right on drinking as the cup flew right by his head, leaving a few drops of alcohol on the fae's shoulders. The intoxication fae lowered his glass--when it was empty, of course--and glanced to his shoulder. Well, he couldn't have that. He turned his head and licked his shoulder lightly with his tongue in an attempt to get all the alcohol off. He couldn't let a single drop go to waste if he was going to use his winningness powah of pony to its full ability.
Sweet, delicious alcohol. With a groan, Magnus stumbled back over to the barrel and smashed yet another cup of his. When he reached to pick up another, though, he noticed Kane was having an alcohol bath. How dare he! That was his alcohol in his game in his playing field in... Magnus lost his train of thought as he leapt forward with a piercing scream in an attempt to tackle Kane down to get him out of the alcohol.
Unfortunately, he missed completely and ended up face-first in the sands a few feet from his feral competitor. The fae shook his head rapidly in irritation, attempting to get the sands off from his face. His eyes were watering from the burn of the sand in them, but he didn't notice as he blindly made his way back towards where the delightful smell was coming from. When alcohol began to drip onto his hand, he knew he had the right place and thrust the cup he had refused to let go of forward to catch the bone-chilling liquid.
No stupid feral demon was gonna beat him at his own game. He didn't know what he was messing with. Drunkenness was Magnus' life. An' he thought he could win?! Baloney, that's what it was. A buncha' baloney. Still, a sobering thought made him wonder why Kane hadn't given up yet... His thoughts snapped back to alcohol as soon as he began to realize that his cup was overflowing and it was beginning to drip on his hand.
Magnus pulled away from the everflowing tap and immediately started to down the glass, forgetting to swallow and nearly sputtering in the process. Yet, it still wasn't fast enough! He reached up sloppily and began to smack the cup multiple times to get some more alcohol out of it at a faster rate. While it worked, the fae of intoxication even had to cough harshly and lower his glass.
That was when the stupid demon's mockings finally registered in his brain. He laughed mockingly, admittedly in a way that would have sounded much more mocking if he wasn't so hazy. "Pluh-eezes! Ya' just took a bath while I drunk this!" He lifted his quarter-full glass with a cackle. "I'm still ahead of ya', ya loooooser. I've got the winningness powah of pony, after all. And... hedon. Yeah, hedon."
Ears still ringing slightly from the fae's earlier shriek, Kane slurred in annoyance, "Ya' sound like a frickin' screech...uh...o...ow...err, bird, ya' pansy!" Lying sprawled in the sand, still dripping alcohol from his earlier bath, the demonic feline felt his attention shifting. The alcohol itself seemed less important now. All that mattered was Magnus. He was gonna' show that cheater fae who was boss 'round here. He didn't need to count cups and s**t to do it either.
His coordination and balance were shot, as demonstrated earlier, however, the brightly-colored adult fae was a hell of a target. Hard to miss, even when plastered. Not to mention that Kane's vision seemed fixated on him, everything else in the vicinity seemed to fade away, unimportant and therefore irrelevant. He felt warm and hazy, but that was likely due to the rush of alcohol racing through his system as well as the heat of competition. Right?
Kane growled, scrambling in the sands to get his hands and feet beneath him, still far from stable. Either way, he made a mad leap, arms outstretched towards the mocking fae. Far less graceful than his usual pounces, and much more awkward and flailing, but neither of them seemed to be all that coordinated at this point.
"Hedon is a great powah, ya know. Sounds like a ela-ela-elamentament." The insults just kept coming, but with the more alcohol he poured down his throat, the less they made sense. The fae tipped his head back and once more finished his cup before slamming it down rather sloppily, almost missing the barrel entirely at this point. Then, he went about his business to grab another one.
...Thus, he completely missed the fact that Kane was vaguely attempting to threateningly leap in his direction. And while he was only awkwardly flailing in Magnus' general direction, he managed to pummel right into Magnus and knock him, once again, face-first into the sands. The new cup Magnus grabbed ended up crushed underneath the combined weight of Magnus and Kane, and Magnus snarled in a way that seemed more like a playful dog than an irritated wolf.
But when he flipped over to glare at Kane, he certainly looked irritated. Or, at least, he was trying to look irritated. Instead, his eyes looked glazed over and his attempt at a scowl was foiled by the fact that he couldn't keep focused. "Grr, ya brat." It was then that the intoxicated intoxication fae began to notice that he was no longer felt the same. Something felt wetter. Confused, the faerie took a long whiff of the air around them, only to shudder in delight at the smell.
But then, it dawned on him. Kane was wasting delicious precious alcohol! It must be saved! Determined to somehow save the alcohol, Magnus maneuvered out from underneath Kane with the assistance of the incredible slipperiness caused by Kane's rum bath. When he emerged victorious, he suddenly shot up on his feet to celebrate... only to fall backwards onto his rump.
"Stupid legs won't work," muttered Magnus in irritation with his legs, before he clawed his way over to the cups once again. This time, though, he didn't go straight to the tap. Instead, he started scraping the cup against his torso, as if that would somehow get all of the alcohol off and into his nice little cup.
What the...? Darn slippery fae! Like a frog...or a fish! "Who you callin' 'brat', fishboy?!?" Because obviously that was going to make sense without the previous train of thought being voiced. He was going to say something about Magnus being a young whippersnapper and to watch his tone with his elders, but the demon got distracted by the fae's escape. Especially when it left him floundering alone in the sand again.
Without bothering to rise to his feet, Kane scrambled after Magnus on his hands and knees...somehow still managing to stagger and sway along the way. Something about the fae and this competition had his blood boiling. He didn't bother to think on it, especially since instinct was taking over. He had to win. Had to assert his dominance.
The two of them were covered at this point with about as much alcohol as they'd likely consumed. Slippery fish Pae could still be caught though! Just had to keep the slipperiness in mind. Keep 'em from squirming free. Like a fish, you had to get a good grip on them and don't let go.
Of course, the rest of his hunting skills were forgotten and Kane was resorting to pure hand-to-hand scuffling. Snarling, he made a grab at the fae...and missed completely. Whoops. Trying again, he grabbed at Magnus, aiming to wrestle the fae away from the cups and back into submission. "Ge' back e're, ya' pansy!"
Did the wasteful demon man just call him a fishboy? Magnus looked over his shoulder and tilted his head almost a full ninety degrees in some sort of awkward display of curiosity. If he was a fishboy, Kane was totally a blueboy. He was blue, da ba dee da ba di. "You live in a blue house with a blue window!" retorted Magnus, before the scent of alcohol wafted into his nose again.
Oh right, gotta save the delicious burning alcohol. The fae went back to scraping his skin harshly with the cup, completely missing Kane's snarling and failure to 'capture' him. His torso felt drier, so Magnus decided that he had rescued some of the alcohol and moved the cup to his lips to take another loud sip as Kane threw another insult at him...
And knocked him right into the ground. Since his skin was already sticky from being exposed to Kane's alcohol bath, now sand was sticking to him too. When he turned around to face the annoying blueboy again, it looked like someone had literally taken Magnus and rolled him around in some sand in the way one would roll a corn-on-the-cob in butter.
Pansy?! Magnus snarled, before a brief pause. Then, a glint of deviousness replaced his scowl, and the fae remarked with a characteristic irritating smile, "Ya the pansy. Ya won't keep drinkin' and keep 'ttackin' me." He reached up with a sand-covered arm to stick his finger in Kane's ear.
"Tha' hell? I ain't got no damn house!" Did he? The forest wasn't a house...was it? Wasn't the last time Kane had been there! Had that changed? The fae was changing stuff while he had him stuck down here on this beach drinking! "Ya' leave mah forest 'lone, hear me?!?"
He perched on top of the downed fae, like a predator with defeated prey, looking victorious and proud of himself...for about three seconds 'til Magnus stuck his finger in Kane's ear. "...tha' f--?!?" The demon feline flailed at the intrusion, swatting repeatedly at Magnus before managing to catch his wrist. Despite being drunk, Kane still had a vice-like grip as he shoved Magnus' arm down to the sand. Then, as a second thought, he grabbed to do the same to the other hand before the fae had any bright ideas.
Rum dripping from the hair hanging in his eyes, Kane sneered and leaned down in the fae's face. He was hazy, unfocused, and his vision was swimming. "No...touchie."
Magnus flung his second arm away from Kane, but he slapped it back into the sands anyway as Kane zoned in on Magnus' face. The fae glanced upwards as a drop of alcohol fell from Kane's matted down grey hair. Drip, drop. Drip, drop. The rum from Kane's rum bath fell onto Magnus' forehead, creating a puddle of alcohol that dripped down his head and into his own hair. The wetness bothered him, and he would have reached off to dry it off if Kane wasn't breathing in his face.
No touchie eh? He could touch whatever he damn wanted to! This was his playing field in his house with his pony hat. The fae lifted his arm back up, a move that took far more effort than it should have, and moved so he could stick his hand between their faces. Narrowing his eyes in an attempt at clearing the fog that was filling his head, Magnus pushed his index finger forward to smash it into Kane's nose.
The fae wiggled Kane's nose back and forth while shoving it upwards to make it appear like the man was a blueboy-piggyman hybrid. The smirk on his face grew, though in his current state, it didn't look very threatening. That'd show the stupid blueboy. "Now wha, hm? I'ma touchin' ya' noooose." It was at that moment that he intended to stuff his finger into Kane's nose.
Who said ya' couldn't pick ya' friend's nose?
Kane's eyes crossed momentarily and he frowned deeply at the gesture. Hey, wait a minute... "Stop 'at! 'S my nose 'n not yours, dammit!" He reared back, swatting at the finger with his free hand. Swiiiiiiing and a miss.
Trying to focus his double vision...wait, eyes still crossed. Okay, that's better. Somewhat. Still hazy, he turned his attention back to Magnus' free arm, making a few grabs before making contact and trapping it against the sand like the first, using his full weight to keep the fae from escaping again.
The demon leaned in again, glaring and too far gone to notice the smell of alcohol was strong enough between the two of them to get any other Pae completely intoxicated off the scent alone. He spoke slowly, his nose almost touching Magnus'. "Ah sed...no...touchie. Got it? No. Touchie. Er else."
Magnus went ahead and wiggled in finger in Kane's nostril as the feral blueboy just kept frowning at him. It was when he jerked away that the intoxicated fae started laughing uncontrollably as if he had just heard the best joke ever. While Kane started swatting at him in an attempt to get Magnus to move his hand away, the fishboy only writhed in the sands, laughing hysterically.
Of course, that only made it more difficult for a hardly-focused demonic to find his hand, but eventually he did, and he pressed it into the sand below as well. Suddenly, the insane maniacal laughter cut off at the sensation of losing control over himself. Magnus looked over at his newly trapped arm, blinked at it, and then started laughing uncontrollably again. He glanced back to Kane as he started to press his face right into his own, and lowered his hysterical laughter to a snicker as the blue boy with the blue house made his decree.
...Then, he just had to laugh right in his face, spit and all. "Dis is my playing pony, ya brat!" The breath that he blew into Kane's face had to have a proof of at least fifty by itself. The man had drank far too much at this point, and with the laughter that kept bubbling up, it seemed that he was quite happy about his pure inebriation. He coughed and hacked from laughing so hard, but he didn't seem to be very concerned about it.
A mocking grin decided to paste itself on Magnus' face, a grin that would continue to sit there until Kane did something about it. "Ah'll touchie ... whateva Ah want!" decided the mocking intoxication fae, before moving his face even closer to Kane's so that their noses were touching. "What'cha gonna do 'bout it!"
Kane's eye twitched slightly, and he pulled back momentarily to shake his head. An attempt to clear his hazy mind or just relief from the combination of alcohol fumes and spit? Maybe both. All he knew is that he felt warm, hazy, as if in a warm cloud...maybe more like steam, since it was more hot and uneasy than warm and comfortable. Unfamiliar instincts were bubbling up, freed by the alcohol, pushing Kane to do...something. But what?
He was no more clear, however when he stopped shaking his head. If anything, he was shrouded in an even worse fog, considering he was dizzy and off-balance. Blinking repeatedly, the demon frowned again. What's with all the laughing? What's so funny? He didn't notice anything. He just seemed to be growing more agitated. He'd show that fae who's...boss...or something or other.
If he'd just stop the obnoxious cackling! Sounded like a chicken! Chicken boy! Fish, chicken...what's with all the food animals? Nah, not hungry...too much rum in his stomach. Still, how to shut him up?
The demon feline's mind traveled back, some months ago now, to an angel. Blue...traveled with a wolf. Kika. ...she'd kicked his a**. Not cool. But they'd argued a lot. She'd managed to shut Kane up once too. He'd stayed quiet for...quite a while after that. It was worth a shot. Maybe it'd work on the cackling chicken-fish fae.
Managing to bring his wandering attention back to Magnus, Kane struggled to get his eyes to focus...then gave up. He growled, failing to cover his increasing slurring. "Eh, shu' up!" Before the fae could laugh any more or shout anything else irritating, Kane darted in and kissed him forcefully, effectively cutting off any argument or objection.
The fae only laughed again--and harder--as the blue boy brat boy failed to keep himself steady. While Magnus was hardly doing any better for himself, all he was seeing in front of his face was the failed attempts from the one above him to keep him from touching him. Ha! He managed to touch him with his nose, too! His hands weren't the only offense! Yeah, he was crea... creat... a creetin or something!
The air around them was beginning to smell like the rum that the two had taken into their systems. Magnus liked the smell. Most would think they absolutely stunk, but in the state that he was in, Magnus found the smell absolutely intoxicating... not that he wasn't already drunk and crazy enough. While he didn't break the mocking grin, he did take a moment to take in a large whiff of the air through his nostrils and let out a deep breath of satisfaction.
Shu' up! the hazy-brained Magnus heard. His lips were beginning to form the retort, "Make me!," when the demonic cut him off and did just that: made him shut up. Magnus found his head back down into the sands with Kane's lips pressing harshly into his own. In any even somewhat sober state, Magnus might have been confused. Very confused.
...Of course, then again, he was also Magnus Vis. Instinct was his middle name.
Instead of flailing or attempting to make the blue boy with the rum drip get off of him, the faerie pushed his lips back into Kane's, somehow completely forgetting about whatever they were doing beforehand in favor of getting closer to the rum stench. He even pushed to free one of his arms just so he could push Kane's face even closer to his--not that it was possible.
Okay, the gesture was not expected to be returned. This was not in the mission plan! Abort! Abort! At least one hand free from releasing Magnus, Kane scrambled for a hold in the shifting sand to push away...but too late. His balance was precarious enough at the moment that he was struggling with that when he felt a hand at the back of his head, trapping him and denying his escape attempts. Despite his initial seeming panic, a small voice in his mind murmured...
...isn't so bad, really. Kinda'...almost...nice...
His panicked, uncoordinated struggles slowly ceased...then gave way as he returned to the kiss. Even if he hadn't been completely wasted, he had no real experience in this sort of thing, so likely he was sloppy, with no technique whatsoever. Of course, he didn't think about any of this. Only about the fact that it didn't feel all that bad.
...assert your dominance! Prove your superiority!
That voice was a bit different from the earlier one. Harsher with more strength behind it. It felt tinged with wildness and feral desires, calling to Kane's animal nature like a long lost friend...
...just...follow your instincts...
Seeming as if a balancing force between the two, the last voice seemed to follow quickly after the second, causing Kane to pause briefly before taking any further action, tense. Then, with a muted growl, much less threatening than any previous, he returned to the kiss, his spaded tail twitching with animalistic energy.
Magnus might've been concerned about Kane's panicking in any somewhat stable state. Might've been. However, he seemed to be completely ignoring Kane's initial struggle in favor of tasting the rum on blue boy's lips. His freed hand found its way into blue house's hair where he pulled at the rum-soaked silver locks.
Honestly, not even the sloppiness of it all seemed to bother him. Of course, at the same time, Magnus wasn't exactly being all that refined himself in his particular state, despite how much more ...experienced he was than his competitor. He was only really bothered when brat boy stopped returning the actions and paused. The figure above him was suddenly stiff like some kind of ironing board. The faerie popped an eye back open to squint his eye at some attempt at a glare, before he heard the growl.
The intoxicated faerie could briefly recall enjoying that growl sometime in the past, but his mind was so hazy he couldn't figure out when or where. Perhaps, though, none of that mannered. Choosing to ignore his thoughts completely at this point, Magnus shut his eye again to return the animalistic, instinctual gestures.
A solitary thought hit him admist it all. He suddenly yanked away from Kane to grip onto his hand before jerking his head towards the fuzzy green area in the distance. It seemed even a drunken Magnus had some sense of common decency.
Panting slightly, the heavy-lidded demon blinked against the blurriness to try and figure out what was the matter. Huh? Bushes? What? There someone in the bushes?
No wait, there was no one there. And that was the point. Even completely wasted, Kane was a predator and shelter always took precedence over an open space. It was written into his very genetics. No sense in being unnecessarily exposed.
So, with a slight grumble of mild irritation, the demon staggered to his feet, reaching to haul the fae bodily after him. He nearly toppled them both into the sand again. By some miracle, he managed to keep his footing, while wrapping an arm around Magnus' waist and nodding towards the grassy area before setting off.
---
Where had those two gone off to?
Texas, frustrated, had earlier wandered off to go watch the fire dancer. There was no need for him to watch Kane and Magnus make themselves utterly wasted; his goal was accomplished, and he could leave them to their own devises. He would come back for a drink once in a while to keep the heady feeling going and to make sure that they weren't poisoned, but other than that...
Unfortunately, now they seemed to be missing altogether. He went to the barrel, and while it was full of empty cups and there was still a bit of alcohol dripping, neither of them were present. The demonic filled up his cup with the last trickles of rum before looking around for some sign of them. ...There! A trail of liquid in the sands.
The demonic slowly followed the trail, leading right up to what seemed to be a grassy area outside of the beach. Knitting his brows, he took a closer look, leaning forward to get a peak over the bushes.
...
...
Texas glanced back to the cup he was holding, and then to the sight over the bushes once again. Flatly, he turned his cup directly upside-down to let all of its alcoholic contents dump into the grass below his feet before he turned a full one hundred eighty degrees and walked away slowly.
