Beer Is Liquid Bread [Open - GROUP RP]

[Boom and Lockjaw]

Time and Date:: Winter; early evening, just past the dinner hour.
Weather:: This is Berk - it is cold and miserable, duh.
Previous Threads?:: None to speak of.


The din of voices in the background, fires crackling, and the occasional thud brought about by whatever signaled the beginnings of a typical evening's end in Berk.

 The hall had begun to clear, so that instead of most of the village being packed like sardines into the massive stone hall there was a more comfortable level of business; dishes clattered as they were picked up, and the smell of food still hung faintly in the air. It was like clockwork, the atmosphere and mood down to a science that generally never so much as changed with the day.

Boom laid watch to the room and it's general atmosphere with a scowl and slight furrow of her brows. It was boring, no better word for it, and she couldn't find a way to take an interest in the humdrum even if she tried. Her fingers wrapped impatiently on a nearby stone counter top, wild eyes fishing the room for something - anything - interesting. Finding nothing, she decided to make it interesting herself.

She stood up abruptly, her abandoned stool giving a slight screech as she harshly abandoned her spot and cut through the crowds with raw intention. Somewhere along the way she'd grabbed a fresh ale out of the hands of another Viking, not pausing for a moment as she climbed first on to a bench and then on to the top of one of the center tables. She stomped, rattling the table's contents noisily as her familiar toothy grin bloomed mischievously over her face.

"Hey, you! All of you! She boomed, sloshing the ale a little as she held it up high. "You're about to be outdrunk! She waved the ale threateningly, taking a noisy slurp of the substance before turning so she could regard who was left in the Hall. "Step on up, pansies! Boom cackled, throwing her head back and rocking her overconfidence with a taunt to catch the competitive nature of her tribe.

[Sven Vellyn]

Sven and Beorn were hanging out together in the great hall. They had eaten the same old meal from the hall, which was a tastless mutton broth again, the meaty chunks almost tough as stones. But for the Vikings, this was good for their standards. Sven hadn't complained though - he had survived on much worse, and much less.

They were busy catching up on their adventures in their absence. Sven was mostly talking about the dragons he encountered, rather than the actual places. He admired the various landscapes he had been to, but dragons? Maybe even more so.

"...And then I found this dragon that buries it's victims. It was really weird, it must be doing that to keep it's dinner for later... Or something. I didn't get quite much time to..." He trailed off as he heard a commotion behind him. There stood on a table, paying no attention to the disgruntled vikings at her feet, started sloshing around a mug of ale, challenging those listening to a drinking match.

Sven couldn't help but smile. He turned to Beorn; Beorn hated drinking, but he couldn't deny this challenge. He was pretty confident about his iron stomach. Though it had been years. Maybe he had changed? Sven was feeling slightly mischevous though, so he stood up and turned to the lass.

"I'll take your challenge." He grinned, almost smirking, whilst raising his own mug towards her. "And I'll beat you." It must have looked strange. Sven even heard a few laughs somewhere, but he didn't know whether it was someone just cracking a joke or laughing at him. Compared to the Vikings all around, he was a bit on the scrawny side, despite the muscles he gained from dragon riding. Some knew he had been badly bitten by a dragon not too long ago, contributing to his "weakness". Sizing up to this beefed up, almost macho-esque woman, it almost seemed like a joke.

[Beornwyn Veen]

    The meade hall was originally full of life, by after the daily dinner hour people just began to file out and head back home for the night. Beorn was sitting back and talking about his previous adventures over a somewhat distasteful, though better than what he has had before in the past, dinner. Aside from the food, it had been a fairly pleasant night so far.

    While Sven went on about the different types of dragons he had come across in his travels, Beorn tended to switch topics to different areas he had been to. Don't get him wrong, he is all for and very interested in dragons, but places seemed to keep his attention held more. This also wasn't to say that Beorn didn't converse about the dragons Sven brought up.

    "Would be a pretty bad way to go, being buried and such.." Beorn made comment before his attention was also drawn by the Viking girl challenging people to a drinking contest. Beorn mused at the idea and smirked to himself, "Silly. Only an idiot would cha- " Beorn started before he saw the smirk forming on Svens face and Beorns smirk disappeared, "Oh no... you're not going to-" But he was cut off when Sven accepted the drinking challenge.

    Beorn dropped his head to the table and groaned at the fact that Sven responded, "By all the gods Sven why do you do this to me.." He mumbled and looked up to the blonde, noticing the few laughs here and there from the surrounding Vikings. "This better not be a repeat of the Bavarian village again." He warned Sven as he reminded him of a similar event years ago.

[Rilkar Olden & Sindyr]

  Rilkar had almost always carried a flask of wine or liquor from his homeland to sip from when he could.  He always seemed to have a resistance to drinking, though probably not nearly as high of a resistance as the vikings of berk, who seemed to drink copious amounts just as a drink to go with a meal.  He felt outplayed, though the liquor in his flask was often far stronger, but smaller in quantity.  From across the grand hall, whilst finishing the snack he had gotten himself, he heard the vikings challenging each other.  A challenge to drink the other under the table.  It wasn't the smartest thing to do but he figured, to hel with it, why not?
    "I raise you one challenger!" He yelled as he crossed the room to meet them, a piece of meat still in his hand and a mug in the other.  His flask sat neatly against his hip to compliment his, in comparison to viking garbs, fancier regalia. 
    "I'll bet a day's labor I'll drink both of you under the table."
    And there it was, the words that would likely prove his undoing.  He'd spend the whole next day with a massive hangover trying to wash something neglected or perform a ton of various lifting exercises complimented by building or fixing something.  He sighed in his head but tried to keep a zealous warface in regards to the challenge.

[Boom and Lockjaw]

Sven was the first to offer himself up, and Boom's giddy and madcap grin turned to him with the severity of a viper but never lost it's jeering joy.
"Out drink me?" She snorted along with the others who had doubtlessly compared Sven's less built form to her own, clearly finding the idea preposterous. "Good luck, pansy." She tilted her mug of ale in a mocking salute and dropped her focus to Beorn.

The only thing Boom did was let her sinister expression settle, clearly hoping to unnerve the other man.
"Not man enough to join along?" There was the taunt, strung together with a saccharine sweet tone of voice, batting her eyelashes and letting her lower lip puff out in a pout that soon dissolved in laughter - until the foreigner started talking.

She twirled, nearly dancing as she spun on the table to regard Rilkar, his challenge met with a glimmer of her eye.
"You're going to pay up!" She giggled, absolutely delighted at the prospect of a little more change for her pocket and to a long swig of a drink from her mug, leaving it empty. With appropriate Viking showmanship, she tossed the mug down to the earth with a slam - the mug nearly bouncing before it rolled a small ways down the hallway. "Let's get this started!

[Sven Vellyn]

Unfortunately for Beorn, his warning fell on deaf ears. He watched Boom, who scoffed at his acceptance of the challenge. Sizing each other up, it was clear that Boom was probably manlier than Sven in physique, but that had little to do with what happens on the inside, in the end. That reasoning gave Sven his confidence, unless a drunken Boom decided to knock his face out later on. But he'd worry about that later.

Sven couldn't help but grin at Beorn' misfortune, moreso when Boom called him out on his manliness, by a woman no less. Sven knew Beorn was pretty into his manliness and often made sure Sven would remember his man-dominance between them.

Just to save Beorn from more utter humiliation (though perhaps with a bit more "persuasion" from Boom, Sven wondered if he would have joined in or not), someone else rose to the challenge too. After all, what's a drinking game without lots of people playing? Sven leaned to see who it was.

He was no Viking, that was for sure. He had a slightly pompous air about him, though he wasn't showing deliberately. A proud man, perhaps, something engrained within him. Sven couldn't really tell much for now, but he was definitely an outsider, and slightly hoped he wasn't from Red Rock.

[Beornwyn Veen]

    Beorn glanced around to the other contestant in the game of drinking that was about to take off. He shook his head to himself as Sven was off paying more attention to the viking woman that had offered the challenge up to people. His attention was only caught when the viking had made comment towards him about not being man enough to join.

    He gave a slight wave of the hand and rolled his eyes. He knew better enough than to make any smart assed comments at this moment so he kept his mouth shut just for that. But Beorn looked over to Sven who seemed to be very intent of getting underway with this game of drinks. He knew that this was only the one of many times such events had taken place, so he was used to it at this point. But how long was Sven going to be able to last this time around? It had been some time since Beorn had seen him be able to handle his body weight in ale it seemed, things may have changed. But one of them had to stay relatively sober right? Who was going to lead them home if they were both piss drunk.

    "Don't make me have to carry you home tonight. AND if I HAVE TO, you better not like throw up on me in the process. Beorn warned to his blonde campanion with a slight wag of a finger in his direction. Absent mindedly Beorn ran a hand down his side and slipped his hand into a pouch. He really wasn't aware of his own actions due to the fact he was paying more attention to the other players in the room, but he raised an eyebrow and looked over a bit before pulling his hand back out.

    "Might need that later after this... or even during." He mumbled to himself as he crossed his arms on the table in front of him and watched.

[Roaric]

Roaric the horse the biggest Norse by far was sitting in his usual spot near the large pile of food that was normally left over, if there was any. Chomping down on many meats and bread he was also the only one not ready to leave the great hall. But his attention was turned away when a rather rough lady viking announced a challenge one that peaked even his interest, by far a shy one to the lady he could not turn down a challenge when it came to mead. Rising up to the challenge he stands tall and walks over carrying a tankard much like a small cask, he then sits that the table arms thick as trees a rather soft woody smell rolling off him. Upon hearing one bet a days worth of work he found this to not be his to his liking he just wanted to drink the mead and forgo the betting.

After sitting silent for a bit he opens his large jaw, uttering out in a heavy tone. “Count me in on this game of drink~ I bet all you I can out drink you with one wink.” his breath was filled with the assortment of drinks he had had, but those from berk would all know they been had. Roaric was a large man an no ones every seen the lad with out mead in hand. He was stoked to partake in such a game. For the carpenter this was all in good fun, he cared not if he lost or won. His angled face unlike most men of berk was covered mostly in thick stubble then fur. He waited for the challengers to sit, as he was ready to sip.

[Redkitebait]

adminnote: Rilkar is skipping his turn apparently so it's Juno's go