Happy Hour (Marie)

The bar. The bar was Maverick's favorite place. It was his favorite type of place. The bar counter was his favorite place to sit. He spun around on his stool, ready to see how much tolerance he can take. "Give me your strongest proof. I will not accept anything less." The husky bartender poured the drink. He sat it in front of him. It was clear. A good sign. Maverick took the shot glass and downed it quickly. Nothing. It burned a little but it wasn't enough. "Ay! You call this alcohol?"
"It takes a while to kick in."
"Suuure it does. Let's speed up the process by keeping them coming." The bartender was interested in the young man. He wanted to see how much he can take. The bartender pours two more glasses. Maverick grabs them both, holding one between his pointer and middle finger, and the other with his middle and ring finger. He downed them both. After two more drinks, he started to feel the effects. Things were getting hazy. About time. He found that many of the bars attendants were cheering him on, though he was getting far too drunk to notice. He was known for his tolerance to alcohol, but he had his limits. It was about time those limits were pushed.

Maria was a devout servant of the Lord and of the Queen.

But at times, there was an instance where it may challenge her will. Especially of that juice from before, it was overly sweet yet there was a refreshing taste. Unfortunately, she wasn't too sure of which bar it was and memory has a strange way of working for her. But surely that won't be a problem, since maybe all bars serve that kind of drink anyway. So maybe she just needed to be descriptive while ordering.

The bell tied to the door rang as she entered, the familiar odor of alcohol wafted through her nostrils. Immediately she was regretting it, but it shouldn't take too long to get in and then get out after drinking.... Right?

Maverick was then surrounded by man Patrons of the bar. They were quite impressed with his endurance to the drink. But as time went on his Irish accent begin to show. "Oi! Bring me some more of this stuff! I ain't finished yet! As a matter of fact...DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!!" Everyone cheered. Maverick slapped more money on the counter than that of was needed to pay for the marginally small amount of people. As a young lady walked in, Maverick instantly noticed. He snatched a drink from a tall and muscular guy. "Hey!"
Maverick whispered angrily and menacingly: Shut the fuck up I paid for it." Maverick walked to the smaller lady, presenting the drink as if it was a peace offering. "A drink for the fare lady"

When she entered, the sight of men drinking was exactly what she imagined in a bar. But, she didn't expect so many at this time of day. There was something really wrong with these people, especially how loose they were in their debauchery. Maybe this was a bad time to come in. Maria chuckled apologetically, "Ahaha... I appreciate it, but no thanks. I came for something else."

She started to make her way towards the bartender, who clearly was raising an eyebrow at the postulant garbed in a nun's outfit. It went without saying that not many religious figures came in a place like this, especially with a towering coffin on their back. "Um, excuse me..."

She tried to explain the kind of fruity drink that Vivian ordered the nights before, but it only served to confuse the bartender to much of her chagrin. Maybe she really should've came here with her instead...

Maverick looked atat the girl, slightly dumbfounded. He took both drinks, and gulped them down. He sat next to the lady. "My name is Maverick and these are my mates. I don't know there names but to night they are my mates, isn't that right boys!?"
Maverick listened to all of the cheer. He slammed more money on the table. They cheered louder. Careful fellas, we might get in trouble for disturbing the peace. So what brings a lady to a place like this with us...degenerates? He and a few others laughed obnoxiously.