hadriel | video; high octane poor life decisions

[One day, Gren is going to learn a very valuable lesson: do not mix alcohol and drugs. That day is not today.]

[The video, when it turns on, swings wildly. Hopefully nobody gets seasick too easily, because damn, it's motion sickness central right here. The backdrop is... probably Delight's bar, if anyone can make sense of the video long enough.]

You know what? You know fuckin' what?

[Gren is drunk. Not only is Gren drunk, but he's also had like a handful of those other things that Delight hands out that get people high as shit, so he's both drunk and high. It's a terrible combination of belligerent and feeling untouchable that can really only lead to Bad Things.]

I'm fuck-all tired of bein' a fuckin' buffet for a bunch of shit-for-dick "gods"-- [The feed swings again, like he tried to do airquotes with only one hand. The hand that is also holding the camera.] --who can't get their fuckin' shit together long enough to not make everything a fuckin' clusterfuck. And then they treat us like we're fuckin' children or some shit, like we don't got the fuckin' right to decide what fuckin' happens to us. We're the fuckin' burdens, but they're the one bringin' in fuckin' monsters and dragons and shit to drop on our fuckin' heads. Fuckin' thanks for that, assholes.

[The feed swings around and then back; he's grabbed another bottle of something alcoholic and knocks an unhealthy portion of it back. Seriously, he's a champ, if your definition of 'champ' is 'fucking alcoholic'.]

Like that fuckin' piece of fuck Sorrow. Fuck that guy, oughtta smack the fuckin' bitch outta that motherfucker.

[He pauses. Something terrible is about to happen.]

I fuckin' oughtta smack the fuckin' bitch outta that guy.

[His voice shifts from rant mode to something firmer and slightly less profanity-ridden.]

Hey, all you fucks. [Slightly less.] I'm comin' for all you fuckin' godly piece of shits. C'mon and fuckin' have a go if you think you're fuckin' hard enough.

[He turns. Delight is behind the bar.] 'Cept for you. You're fuckin' okay.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They purport to be gods. I'm sure they can come up with something.

Perhaps transporting him to the edges of the city and making him find his way back, and then taking him back there anytime he gets close to a known landmark. Or making all the filthy language that comes out of his mouth sound like duck quacks. Or come out as soap bubbles.

Or I could be wrong and they'll tire of him and just knock him out, who can be certain?

[...that is both supremely messed up and incredibly clever. He's gonna keep this in mind. For, uh. Reasons.]

All right. You're on. For a, uh, "subtler punishment," whatever that ends up bein'.

[And that's just off the top of her head. She gets half her ideas from terrible manga and the other half from just imagining what would be funny.]

Do I still win if they knock him out and then inflict some other fate on him? Though I think that's probably a technical loss...

You did specify "other," which kinda implies that's the sole thing you're expectin' there. Still, I'm flexible if you are.

[Technically speakin', anyway. Not literally. Literally, bones are not all that flexible.]

True enough. And I'm sure we can work something out, should the need arise.

Eh, sure. Details details, right?