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<blockquote data-quote="DEFCON 1" data-source="post: 1887505" data-attributes="member: 7006">Massif shuffles quickly over to the railing upon which Captain Dresda placed the bottle of alchohol, and grabs it with his meaty hand.&nbsp; He yanks off the cork and up-ends the bottle into his waiting mouth... taking a long and satisfying slurp.&nbsp; About halfway through he glances at the others on deck and finally remembers a semblance of manners, and he tilts his head back forward and swallows however much he had in his mouth.&nbsp; With a wipe of his lips with his sleeve, he calls to the other mercs...'Uh... did... anyone else... um... want some?'If people looked into his eyes, they could see that Massif is hoping against hope that everyone says &quot;no&quot;.&nbsp; The dwarf starts walking back to the center of the deck and makes a beeline for the door of the Captain's quarters, where Sorren had taken up his guard position once more.&nbsp;&nbsp; With an embarrassed half-grin, Massif holds out the bottle to the paladin in offering... but the long thread of drool that hangs from the bottle's lip may convince Sorren not to take him up on the offer of the drink.'It's... uh... it's... good.&nbsp; A good drink... kinda.&nbsp; Actually... you probably wouldn't like it.&nbsp; It's very bitter.&nbsp; But... if you really want some... you can uh... you can have a sip... I guess.&nbsp; But you really probably won't like it.&nbsp; I can barely keep it down myself...**URRRRRPPP**Oh!&nbsp; Heh heh... excuse me.&nbsp; Sorry.&nbsp; So... you want some?&nbsp; Or should I just polish it off?&nbsp; I'll finish it if no one else wants any.'The lopsided half-grin widens just a bit, and the flash of desire in Massif's eyes when he mentions polishing off the bottle is unmistakable.&nbsp; He takes up position next to Sorren (apparently having decided not to go downstairs to put his feet up after the paladin mentioned reassuming guard duty), and his grip on the bottle tightens as he awaits word from his compatriots whether or not he can finish his drink uninterrupted.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="DEFCON 1, post: 1887505, member: 7006"] Massif shuffles quickly over to the railing upon which Captain Dresda placed the bottle of alchohol, and grabs it with his meaty hand. He yanks off the cork and up-ends the bottle into his waiting mouth... taking a long and satisfying slurp. About halfway through he glances at the others on deck and finally remembers a semblance of manners, and he tilts his head back forward and swallows however much he had in his mouth. With a wipe of his lips with his sleeve, he calls to the other mercs... [COLOR=Red]'Uh... did... anyone else... um... want some?'[/COLOR] If people looked into his eyes, they could see that Massif is hoping against hope that everyone says "no". The dwarf starts walking back to the center of the deck and makes a beeline for the door of the Captain's quarters, where Sorren had taken up his guard position once more. With an embarrassed half-grin, Massif holds out the bottle to the paladin in offering... but the long thread of drool that hangs from the bottle's lip may convince Sorren not to take him up on the offer of the drink. [COLOR=Red]'It's... uh... it's... good. A good drink... kinda. Actually... you probably wouldn't like it. It's very bitter. But... if you really want some... you can uh... you can have a sip... I guess. But you really probably won't like it. I can barely keep it down myself... **URRRRRPPP** Oh! Heh heh... excuse me. Sorry. So... you want some? Or should I just polish it off? I'll finish it if no one else wants any.'[/COLOR] The lopsided half-grin widens just a bit, and the flash of desire in Massif's eyes when he mentions polishing off the bottle is unmistakable. He takes up position next to Sorren (apparently having decided not to go downstairs to put his feet up after the paladin mentioned reassuming guard duty), and his grip on the bottle tightens as he awaits word from his compatriots whether or not he can finish his drink uninterrupted. [/QUOTE]

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