Toil and Trouble (Patricia & Cecil)

Lights flashed as the jumping bass drowned out any sort of noise that could be made by humans without raising their voices or making a ruckus. With Patricia as the Playhouse's sole inhabitant it took on the shape of a booming night club filled with neon, dark lights, and strobes. It'd be a pretty happenin' spot if it weren't for the fact that, y'know, no one was here. Patty had gotten the invite to come to the Playhouse and she showed up but like, wouldn't clubs be filled with people? It was pretty surreal to listen to the booming tones and see the strobing lamps without anyone else actually there. Maybe a little creepy. But it was better than nothing and nothing was a good word. She'd spent all night hanging out at the Festival Strip looking for pickpockets and finding only pissants and really she was just disappointed. After grabbing hold of this intoxicating power she wanted to fight more things but apparently the city wasn't as riddled with Demons as some people made it out to be.

The delinquent took a gulp from her glass, tall, Patron with ice as her other hand rested with a cigarette hovering over an ash tray. Her back was to the bar of course. When she got inside no one was at the bar so she just took something from behind it. Not the cheap shit either, vodka was good on a budget and beer was good for drinking all night but you take an opportunity. Besides whiskey was such an old man's drink. Her dark figure sat motionless for the most part in between sips of her drink while waiting for people to FUCKING SHOW and drags from her cigarette, briefly illuminated by the strobe lights, the cherry from her cigarette, and the glowing eyes in the darkness.

Clanking footsteps marked the return of Cecil...or as he supposed he would be known while like this from now on, Revenant, to the Playhouse. And as he walked in, he found himself surprised by the change that had overtaken the area. This wasn't anything like it was before, the place taking the same form but now filled with a cacophony of light and sound.
...dear god, he knew he didn't go to clubs for a reason. He could barely hear himself think in this place.
Why did anyone LIKE this stuff?

It was enough to deal with already, but then he saw who was presumably the source of all the changes.
The girl he'd met earlier that day, now initiated by combat as one of them.
...I shouldn't provoke her.
He stepped up to the bar, eyes on the witch styled terrorist. "It appears we meet again. Welcome to the Playhouse."

And just before she had lost about all hope of anyone meeting her there like they said they would in walked the knight she'd fought with a few hours ago. The witch would slam down the rest of her drink  before sliding it out of her fingertips to spiral precariously on the bartop as she stood to greet her new... whoever the fuck he was to her. She couldn't really call him a friend and he wasn't really an enemy either. Patty wasn't about to call anyone a teammate, she wasn't about to drink that Kool-Aid. Terrorist guy. He was the terrorist guy she knew but didn't really know. Whatever, wasn't really important right now or worth worrying over.
"Finally someone shows up," she complained over the loud beats, allowing her arms to sway at her sides. "Yo where's that other guy at? In the white mask? You'd think he'd be here if he was gonna invite me. I thought this place was gonna be dope as fuck if it's where a bunch of thugs hang out and they give out drugs with the invite but nobody's here. Like I took one too, didn't do nuthin'. You guys are seriously freakin' laaaaaame." The delinquent would shrug and wave it off, the lit cigarette in her hand making a trail of smoke as threw her arm haphazardly.
"Pssh, whatever. Free drinks are free drinks and all the drinks are free when the bartender's gone, ha."

Patty wasn't quite hammered yet but she was feeling kind of mouthy from the drink she had. Okay it was more like two drinks. And they were tall ones but whatever fuck it dude, who'd turn down good shit for free? Besides, she was pissed off that she wandered around all night wasting her time looking for pickpockets instead of fighting monsters like she did the first time. Seriously though she wanted to put the beat down on more stupid angels or demons or whatever. Like, you know how you can get so frustrated that you just want to kick a hole in the wall? Well now if she got worked up she could actually just blow shit up and dude it was sooooo satisfying. The witch wandered back to the bar casually, although instead of taking her seat the tall girl vaulted over it to get at the liquor behind it. She wasn't done drinking yet. Besides, drinking was more fun with people.
"Wanna drink?" she spoke in a rising and almost challenging tone, glancing over her shoulder. No matter his answer she would grab some Bailey's and two short glasses, pouring them both to the brim with shocking practice. But Patty wasn't just some stupid party chick, she could play games. Right now the game was find some of this crap out.
"Okay so like what's your deal? Why am I here? Y'know, other than getting shitfaced and stuff. Ya need a hand blowing up schoolbuses full of orphans or some shit?"

Cecil shakes his head at the question. "I'm afraid I could not tell you. I've never seen them here. The only time I have heard from them is when I was present for others gaining abilities the way you have." Under the helmet, his eyes glance away for a moment, though without any more motion on his part it simply seems like a pause. "Speaking of which...I don't know of anyone else who has received the drugs you have. I don't know exactly what they do...but I suspect it's in your best interests to ensure you don't run out."

Cecil simply laughs and taps at his helmet as he's offered a drink. "I'm afraid this make it a little difficult to have a beverage, and removing it would defeat the entire point of wearing it in the first place, no?" He chuckles. "You're more fortunate, in that regard. Nonetheless...I'm not revealing myself before you have."
Given, he already knew who she was, but that was something else altogether. If she couldn't trust him with her identity, then he was hardly about to trust her with his.

Cecil sits down, resting an arm on the bar. "Well...you are here because you were invited to this place, and decided to come." He gestures to the surrounding area. "You've certainly made yourself comfortable."
"But...no. Murdering orphans is not on the agenda." Great. First having to lead the conversation until Shotaro took over, and now having to explain what they did when he'd only been doing this for a day or so. "I'm sure you've heard the tales of how people like us are supposed to be rebels trying to overthrow the government?" He gestures out with one hand. "Well, that's not true of everyone with our moniker, but it's certainly true for me and the rest who take residence here. I didn't have to take up this cause, and nor do you...but I personally take offence with any governing body that believes brainwashing is an acceptable method of operation." He shrugs, shaking his head. "And that is without mentioning the use of demonic enforcers that they seem happy to let eat who they wish."

He lets out a dark laugh, echoing from his helmet. "The protections of Isla are truly kind and benevolent, are they not?"

Shaking his head, he continues on. "They won't care whether you're working against them or not. Because of the powers you have, they will be trying to either capture you and warp your mind until you work on their behalf, or end your life altogether, as they do with anyone else that does not fall into line with them. I doubt you truly see that as a threat, but it certainly does make daily life more inconvenient. This is simply fair warning."

Patricia narrowed her eyes at the dark knight. Dude was weird, like he was all... like whatever, y'know? Like, he talked funny. Like he was in a movie or something, it was odd as fuck. But whatevs, different strokes and shit.
"They don't do anything. Or like whatever it is it's slow as fuck. Might just be slow released cyanide or some shit." The girl stopped to think on that before busting out laughing.
"Ahahahaha oh FUCK! I probably shouldn'a took one huh!? Hehehehahahaha...!" Her cackling echoed loudly over the thrumming music as her body shook with laughter over her stupid joke.
"Hahahe... haha... whooooo... yeah whatever I don't give a fuck about him, I don't need him anyways, fuck'im." He'd turn down her drink like she thought he would. Y'know, 'cause he was a lamewad like everyone else here... not here... fucking, whatever dude. It might have been hidden by the shade of her hat but the grin in her glowing eyes was easily apparent.
"Haha dude fish bowl! Here, just tilt your head back, lemme pour this through the eye holes eeheeheehaha!" Patricia took a gulp from her Bailey's and went back to the bar to find some vodka to dump through his helmet, shit was gonna be tight, but got a little distracted when he kept talking. She wasn't gonna show him her face anyway, she was kiiiiiinda buzzed not completely retarded.

She braced herself on the bartop with both arms, swaying slightly with her head sagging to the side.
"No like whyyyyyyy I got invited. Like this place isn't what I thought it was mostly because it's totally... empty and shit na'amean? Like why would you do that if you weren't gonna show up? Rude as fuuuuuuuuuuck." The witch pushed herself lazily off the bar and began to pace back and forth with her cigarette in one hand and drink in the other. Like, she wanted to doooooo somethiiiiiiiiing and it was either going to be something incredibly fucking stupid or going through the whole bottle 'cause that's how bored she was. But she'd be quiet enough to listen to him talk about his... whatever it was, fucking club activities or whatever except with more bullets and blood. She took the odd drag and drink as she let it all work out in her brain.

Patricia finished her tall glass of Bailey's a lot quicker than she should have with a long final gulp, slamming the now empty glass on the top of the bar.
"Yo, I don't give a fuck, dude!" the witch shouted over the noisy music, getting rowdier the more she drank, "So the government's filled with a buncha dickheads, like when has it ever not? And last time I checked they were still incompetent, I am not even scared." She'd occupy herself with spinning the empty glass across the bar before stopping it and doing it again, getting dangerously close to the edge at some points. She'd stop what she was doing to talk seriously again, taking a drag from her ash stick.
"I don't buy into the brain washing propaganda bullshit, that works on idiots, not on me. And like, this isn't even my problem. I don't listen to'em anyway doesn't matter who's in charge like I'm just gonna do me like I always do." This honestly wasn't Patty's deal. She didn't do the good stand up for people thing, that was on them. It only really mattered when the system was over her head holding her down, then she'd fight like hell but until then you were on your own. She wasn't about to take some dumb oath to fight for freedom for people she didn't give a shit about and wouldn't return the favor. If they wanted it to change bad enough they'd do it themselves. She reached for the drink she poured the knight and began to drink it herself, like he wasn't gonna so fuck'im, right? But she paused mid gulp to ask another question. At least to keep the conversation going. It was so fucking lame here, she didn't want the ONLY other person to talk to to leave.
"So like how do you even fight the government? Like you pull cops into alleys and they end up in the obits or what? Cuz yeah fuck that."

He pauses as she breaks out into laughter. "...I do not know whether you should or shouldn't have. But I would guess you'd be in a worse state than you are now without them. If you really wish to know, then just avoid taking them and see if anything happens." Not that he'd recommend that, but there really was no other way to know without extracting the information from the one who provided them.

"Ask the one who invited you, not me. I can't say I even know if we're much affiliated. He seems to send people off here and disappear into the air." He shrugs. "Likelyhood seems to be that you were just sent here in the hope or expectation you would come into the fold."
"In any case, we've been out on business."

As Patty expresses her disbelief at the idea of brainwashing, it's met with a tilt from Cecil's head. "So...when you encountered those angels, was there nothing in your mind? No pressure on your brain, no words of submission?...actually, no, that makes sense. They seemed to seek your death more than anything else - it would make sense they wouldn't bother trying to convert you."
Chains wrap about his arm, and with a yank, Ankou floats behind him. "I first became introduced to this when I discovered a corpse being eaten, and the being responsible attempted to force me under government will. Had Ankou not manifested, that would have been all for me."
The ghostly man dissipates, leaving no trace.
"As ridiculous as it may sound, it's not just a scare tactic. You're likely safe from anything like I have experienced, but I cannot give such guarantees for anything beyond that."

He hadn't really been expecting any belief in anything he'd said. About any danger, about why this was worthwhile. She was on the power trip to end all power trips, and it was only going to end when she crashed down one way or another.
Hopefully, that would not cost her dearly when it inevitably happened.
He couldn't really force things with her. Just keep moving.

He tilts his head at the question of operations. "Please. Maybe someone fool who had let this power go to their head. Attacking the police would change nothing. They aren't the ones in power." He shakes his head. "We, my good witch, are targeting the District Leaders themselves. There was a recent assault on Invidia, the Head for Suzie Q, and we've already determined the identity of our next - Superbia, the secretive head of Vista Square and the one in control of SMILE. We know her face...and considering she's been causing people to disappear for sharing such information, it seems it's not something she'd be happy about."
"You don't care about offing cops. That's quite fine. Neither do we. How do you feel about beating down somebody handpicked by the Queen herself? Showing those people sitting on high that they are not, in fact, invincible?"

The way you seem to think you are.

The witch shrugged her shoulders before taking a large swig from her glass. Okay NOW it was starting to hit her. Fuckin' good though.
"*Phaaaaah!...* I'unno, I was just gon' toss'em if they didn' do shit but fuck it I guess, s'good idea." She bet they were sugar pills or some shit, seriously freaking lame. And she believed it even more after what he said next. The witch stared at the night with an eyebrow cocked before falling into a cackle once again.
"AAAAAAHahahahaha! Did I, did I just fall for a timeshare sca-ham ahahaheeheehaha...!" Hoh man this was all just so fucking stupid. It was like, unintentionally badly hilarious. And it just kept getting better. The drunk delinquent almost doubled over laughing at it, sucking wind.
"Aheh... ahahaheh... hoooooly shit... I mean it was super funny how they thought they could do it, heheheh... haaaaaa..." Patricia didn't remember any kind of thing like what he was talking about, just how they tried to kill her before she set her staff to deep fry. That was fuckin' funny as shit too. None of it made sense either and that was funny. It's, like, she got transported into some dumb Saturday morning cartoon or something, y'know if the good guys liked to get high. Oh shit. She was fighting angels and drinking alcohol. Fuck, guess she was the bad guy. Well that sucks, whatever. She didn't get to choose, not her fault.

People getting ate though? Like, that was a thing? Patty heard about it at school but she thought it was bullshit, now it seemed kinda legit. Kiiiiiiind of a damn shame she couldn't find anyone to body the living shit out of. Stupid fucking demons should stop hiding like little bitches and fight her for funzies.
"So like demons eat people and are working for the government? This sounds, like, some kind of Republican conspiracy talk radio shit," she snorted, raising her glass once more. A soft clinking sound could be heard as her own spirit manifested at the sight of the knight's, as if on instinct that she should probably start to care. Whatever, she could take'im. She could take anyone. The provocatively-dressed witch leaned into Patricia's ear to whisper, shooting glances toward the swordsman as she told her secret.



The specter would giggle silently while covering her mouth, as if what she had just said involved the dark knight in the slightest. Bridgette winked before floating backward to fade from existence, her innocent expression becoming sharper and more demonic as she did so with her coy smile becoming sharp and jagged, eyes yellow and cat-like. Patricia shook her limp head and turned back to her cigarette and the conversation, yet finding it burnt out and having to light another one. Which she did. Only backwards. It took her a few moments to pick up on it.
"*pthbthbthb* Fuckin' shit really...? Yeah man I'm not fuckin' scared, like not even a little bit they can fuckin'... bring that shit I don't give a shit. Sounds like some kinda... government shit, like shit they'd do y'know? Like fuckin' conspiracies or whatever y'know? Like I didn't fuckin' know they were runnin' all the places but sounds legit, that's legit." She was already starting to slur and repeat herself, half a bottle of Bailey's and some other shit will do that. But Patty didn't care, it was free shit it was good and it was here so fuck it, right? Whatever, government was doing government stuff but she could get in on taking down Big Media just because she fuckin' could. Patricia grinned wide beneath her hat, a lopsided arrogant smile.
"Dude you don' even fuckin' know, dude! Like I don't give a fuck I'll fuckin' torch her ass na'amean!?" The delinquent stood up straighter with probably one more step than necessary to drain the rest of her glass and spin it across the bar. Funnily enough, alcohol didn't really make her ability to make creatively bad decisions better or worse, just more frequent.
"Soooo like you guys's gonna put up her picture everywhere, right...?" she asked the knight expectantly, leaning close enough for the brim of her hat to touch his helmet and for him to smell the liquor on her breath.
"I'unno she doesn't want people to see that shit so you're gonna put it everywhere to draw'er out, riiiiiiiiight...?"

"Regardless of how it sounds, this is now our reality. Even if they did not work on the government's behalf, they definitely ate people. I could have been one of them." He would have called on his weapon, but given both the amount of power and alcohol running through the girl's system right now, it was pretty obvious that would have been a terrible idea right now.

And then, as he called his persona, hers came out on her own...
If he wasn't certain at this point, he was now. Her Persona wasn't completely under her command, from the way it came by itself to how it whispered conspiratorially in its bearer's ear. He didn't know what it was saying, but he doubted it was anything good.
At least it was gone now...even if he still had to deal with the increasingly critical levels of inebriation on this girl's part.

He waited out her drunken babblings until he had a better point to jump in again. Which was about...here.
With the witch in her face, and the smell of her breath in his noise.
Once more, he was glad to be wearing this impassive helmet.
"Why stop there? Sure, spreading her picture may frustrate her..." Not that they could. They only saw it, not got it. "But unless half of Endymion comes forth to say 'That woman killed my baby!', it stands to reason that may do little on its own but alert her. Between the protections of the queen, and controlling all the media of the city, she has little to fear even if a few people do come forth, and the general public knows her face." He shakes his head, and meets Patty's gaze. "We will invade SMILE, and beat the crap out of her ourselves. That's where this is going, good witch. We already did it with Invidia..." Well. The others did, even if it didn't go well. "Once more should not be so much harder."

The witch took a sloppy drag off her cigarette, likely good for Cecil she got out of his face and turned her head to blow the smoke away.
*phewwwww...* I'unno sounds like somethin' I'd do," she shrugged, "Just gotta get'er to send s'me people to disappear ya then ya beat the FUCK out of'em an' find out where she is. But if you know where she's at like why do you even care? Why don't you just go do it?" Not gonna lie, if Patricia had a problem with someone she just dealt with it or avoided it entirely to the point it wasn't her problem, none of this political bullshit. Like unless she decided to and tore someone to the freakin' ground. It'd either be a bunch of backdoor bullshit that made sure that made sure she wouldn't get fucked that way again or she'd take it straight to their face and it'd get solved that way, but she solved problems. Solved them fucking great.

Cecil could probably see the wheels turning in her head as she stared at him for a moment, unfocused eyes hovering in their sockets, turning off him and upwards before she gave a half shrug.
"Ahahahahaha FUCK! That's right! Y're a fuckin' freedom fighter and shit ahaha! You're turning the city against the government huh!? Back alley gossip bullshit huh?!" The drunk thug leaned far across the counter to invade the knight's personal space again, resting a finger on the side of his helmet.
"Shit, that's smart man! Heeheeheehaha!" Patricia slithered away from the dark knight and back to her empty glass, raising it to her mouth before figuring out there wasn't anything in it. She'd return to the bar to grab another glass and... something. Green bottle. That was good, right? Green bottle was good shit? She kinda couldn't read it with the stobe lights and how the words wouldn't focus.

The witch poured a new glass... and then filled her old one, holding one out to the night as if she hadn't asked already.
"Aright... I'm down for thrashing a basic bitch. Personally the propaganda bullshit kinda pisses me off y'know? Like how fuckin' dumb can ya be to buy this stupid shit?" Patricia took a gulp from her class, feeling the bite of the apparently fucking whiskey on her tongue before she spoke further.
"But uuuhh, you got a couple things wrong. Like I mean I'll help you kick'er ass 'cause I'm not gonna lie, I got a lotta personal problems an' it makes me feel better to just... fuckin'... blow shit up y'know? So like if it's gotta go somewhere I don't give'a fuck, might s'well go to somethin' important'r some shit. Like fuck you bitch, boom! Ahehehe..." She was probably going to be done after this one, like this was starting to get not fun. Patty'd just take a bottle with her and sneak to her dorm with it.
"...buuuuut I'm not gonna join you guys. Y'know like, I already get targeted by cults an' shit 'cause I guess I'm their fuckin' wet dream're some shit 'cuz my life's fucked up, y'know like... *...gulp...* ...Jehovah's witnesses and shit and I'm totally not game, na'amean?"

Patricia took another swig from her glass in the middle of her sentence and leaned her elbow on the bar. Didn't matter if he took the drink or not, if he didn't fuck'im whatever.
"And another thing, uh, I'm not a good witch. I'm actually pretty fuckin' Wicked." The wry grin could be seen in her eyes underneath her hat. "Yup! That's right! The Wicked Bitch of Endymion! Hehehahahahaaaaaa...!" She was pretty excited already. Not about getting powers and junk but also kinda yeah? But what she really wanted was to take those powers and make somebody fuckin' choke on'em and it looks like someone was lined up already.

Well, she seemed to understand what was going on here...in spite of her inebriation. As much as he could have done with her keeping her hands the hell off of him right about now - even if it was only the touch of a finger right now - she at least seemed cooperative at the moment.

He shrugs. "It is as much what you do not see as what you do. It is hard to gain much perspective when you only have a singular view." Hence, why controlling all the media of this city was a great asset to have on your side indeed. On a major level, they would only know what you wished them to.
He frowned a little at Patty's admission she wasn't going to join them...but then again, he expected that, really. More concerning to him was her saying about how her life was terrible, she had a lot of problems, and that she was in the sort of state that many would try to take advantage of. Still...he had to present a strong front, as always.
"That is more than acceptable. I doubt this shall be the last battle we undertake, either...even if you are not with us, you are more than free to join us when time comes to bring conflict to their doorsteps. I shall do my best to let you know of these times." He paused. He had no idea what he could say, at this point...or should, even. But he didn't want to just ignore what she'd admitted. "...as much as I'd rather not be compared to a cultist, I understand where you are coming from. At least...as much as I may, without being subjected to such a thing myself. Just don't lead yourself to believe you need endure it alone. It may not be simple, but I'm sure you can at least find others to confide in, who will not take it as an opening to try and convert you to their 'lord and saviour, Pyramid-Scheme Christ'...or to try and use it as leverage to get you to topple a government."
He grins. "It's sappy bullshit, I'm aware, but that doesn't mean it's not true. Just keep an eye out. You might be surprised."

...he didn't know what he could do - and really, he should just leave without doing anything stupid - but he wanted to do something before he left.
Maybe...oh geez, this was going to be a bad idea even if this worked out.
Standing up from his place at the bar, he moved around to rummage about until he found...some straws. With a little effort, he took the offered drink and used the straws to set up a system that would let him actually have it with his helmet on.
And promptly coughed and spluttered when he actually used it.
"Well...*cough*. Not the most dignified means, but it works."

Oh man this was just freakin' bitchin'! Patricia was just so excited to get an opportunity to blow even more shit up and like this was totally high-profile business. The bigger they are the harder she got to get away with smacking'em in the mouth! It'd feel really good to just let loose and torch the place, that'd show'er for being a controlling bitch. Someone like that deserved to get dropped from the top rung all the way to the bottom on her head anyway, one of her favorite pastimes was doing exactly what people told her she shouldn't or couldn't do. This was just a bigger and better opportunity, yeah? Fuckin', fuck her up yo.
"Aheheh... yo I don't really need like outside perspective, I jus' want the singular view of'er fuckin' face in the dirt y'know?" She laughed again and leaned expectantly over the bar once more.
"Yo okay so I'm like not doing this for whatever renegade bullshit you got goin' but I'm like always down for a fight, y'know?" Like it was really cool to just have someone that can invite you to fights and shit. That's what's up.

Buuuuuuut he had to get all touchy-feely with her and be all like I understand you're pain and shit. Patty didn't like that. It was fake as fuck, faker than she was. Just some cult recruiting tactic like she'd seen over and over again, you just had to relate to your victim and they'd trust you and rely on you. She should know, she did it sorta often to get her way. But it wouldn't work on her anymore. Nobody gave a shit about anyone that couldn't benefit them somehow and that was just the truth. It honestly pissed her off a little but Patty didn't show it, not in any normal way. Patricia didn't jump straight to anger when she was frustrated, she liked to mock it first. So she'd laugh in his face.
"Aaaaah ha ha ha... dude doooooon't even pretend like you care. Like I don' give a shit, you don', no one fuckin' gives a shit man nobody cares an' shit fuck off, tha'ss why y're doin' this 'cause they don' give a shit, ev'ryone's juss in it for themselves I'm in it for myself... juuuuust gonna do whatever dude."

The witch held her head in her hand about halfway through her rambling sentence. It didn't even make sense to her not really, it was getting hard to think with her veins filled with booze. She swayed on her feet a little bit but didn't stay too sullen for long. She didn't wanna deal with it. Her attention turned toward the black knight that circled around the bar looking for... oh shit! He jerry-rigged something with straws to take a drink!
"Heeheehaha! S'good shit right!?" she exclaimed giddily. Yo he wasn't as fuckin' laaaaaaame as she thought he was!

He wanted to argue so badly right now. Tell her she's wrong, tell her not to assume this shit, tell her she had no right to dictate how much he cared right now or how much anyone else cared where she was concerned.
But even if he thought there was the remote possibility of convincing her right now, he wasn't nearly good enough to actually make good on that opening.
All he could do was sigh. "As usual...whatever you say."

Cecil found himself coughing yet again as he made a second attempt at drinking. "It...it is. I can't say I've been able to acquire something like this, before." He felt like he'd appreciate this more if he'd hand anything remotely this strong before in the first place. "It would be better if I wasn't constantly at risk of spilling everything with this setup." He didn't doubt that somehow the now surprisingly rigid straw setup would topple the glass if he didn't carry it with him. As it was, it looked incredibly goofy to see that amongst all the black metal, there was a mismatched set of brightly coloured straws poking out from under his helmet.
Eventually, he managed to take a drink without coughing. Barely. "Have you had anything better?"

That was good stuff to hear! All of the ass beatings with none of the investment, totally wicked dude! As it stood right now and likely in the future Patricia wouldn't think too hard about this and what it meant until it kicked her in the teeth. It wasn't worth worrying about right now, there was no implication or obligation that she'd accept outside of what she had to do which was whatever she damn well felt like. Sooner or later this would mean something but at the moment? It was a blank check. And those were the best kinds.
"Yooooo fuckin' A dude!" she'd agree, not really aware of any deeper meaning to his comment. Something else was more worthy of her attention.

"Duuuude. Dude dude dude. Bruh. Boyeeeee. You're like, base'f operations is a bar'n shit the FUCK do you not drink?" Patricia questioned, trying to get a clear picture of the bottle where the words weren't swimming.
Ji... Jim B... fuck, really? Jim Beam? The FUCK was THAT shit?
"Pssssh, fuck off!" the drunk witch dismissed, casually tossing the bottle over her shoulder to, of course, smash on the ground. The breaking of glass made her flinch as if she suddenly realized gravity existed, slowly looking back toward it and beginning to giggle.
"Whoops! Ahehehehe..." It would turn into full-blown cackling as she turned back to the knight to see him looking like the most emo bug that got in a fight with a slumber party and lost with all the silly straws jutting out of his face.
"Ahehehe... heeheehahahaha...! You-your face is ahahahaha...! Aaaaahahahaaaheeeeee...!" Patricia was nearly doubled over with laughter, holding her stomach and stifling chuckles underneath the palm of her hand. She took a step backward and promptly slipped on the whiskey she tossed a few moments before.

"WHOOAAAOOAA...!" Her feet flew out from under her, fortunate for her she threw out an arm and caught herself on the bar instead of landing flat on her back in liquor and broken glass. And then she started laughing again.
"Aheeheehahahahaaaaa...! Aheh... aheh... ahahahaheehee...! Ah... hooooooh my gawd... ahahahaheh... hoooh my gawd I'm fucking dying..." It was just... it was stupidly freakin' ridiculous. It'd be the funniest shit ever if she could remember it the next morning. Patricia legit had to wipe her eyes from tears of laughter, it was almost impossible to see through them.

"Haaa... haaa... FUCK dude... oh my gawd....... Irish Car Bombs!" She was laughed so hard she had to catch her breath but Patty wasn't gonna pass up an invitation to drink more. She'd drink until she passed out if the party didn't stop. The plastered giggly mage lurched herself off the bar to start grabbing bottles of shelf. It took her a few tries and some blank stares in the dark but she seemingly found what she needed and started planting them down and mixing.
"Buuuuuubble buuuuuuuubbllllllllllle hehehehehaha..." she chuckled quietly as she sloppily poured alcohol into shot glasses and mostly over the bar. When she was done she had two tall glasses and a handful of shots, plinking the shots into the bigger glasses to see them foam up and drip over as she sloshed one to the dark knight.
"Irish... Car Bomb. N's'got Guiness'n Bailey's'n Jameson in it, s'pretty good. Yo drink it bish." The thug wouldn't even wait for the knight to take his before she started slogging hers down.

This was getting out of control. Wayyy out of control. But he had a hard time finding it in himself to care too much. Even if it was in the least healthy manner possible, she seemed to be enjoying herself. If she made a habit of it, he'd be more concerned...but for now...it was a one-off, and he could live with that.
"Every other time I have been present, there have been others to block access to the alcohol." Technically true. The fact that he wasn't going for it in the first place wasn't something he was about to bring up.
...did she HAVE to throw that?

Confusion carries through in his posture as Patty bursts out laughing, but it relaxes as she starts going on about his face, softening into a smile behind the helmet.
He guessed he could handle this if it would keep her amused for a while.
Taking the other end about, he waves the monstrosity of straws about with his head, wondering if it would garner a reaction.

As she starts to fall, he rushes forward to grab her, but she catches herself. Still, at this point, he makes an effort to make sure he's not to far away to catch her if she actually does fall. "Take care now. Getting filled with glass would not be so amusing."
Once again, he's taken aback. "Irish...Car Bombs?" He stood at the ready to catch Patty as she lurched, but dared not do anything before that point, wary of slighting her. It proved unnecessary though, and he was left to watch as she concocted...some kind of drink. He took his as it was offered, the brief thought of 'what am I doing with my life' readily apparent even within his impassive shell...though in the end, he shrugs it off, fumbling his straws in and preparing himself to avoid another coughing fit.
Only to not have one.
"...you would be correct on that front." He...could have more of these.
...I'm going to be so fucked when I get home.
Ah well.

It's been way too long since Patricia got to come out and drink like this. Like, a week and a half probably. Nobody else wanted to come out and fuck it, costume party or whatever. It didn't really matter to her as long as she was enjoying herself, that's all that mattered. But the booze was starting to hit her like a freight train, rushing straight to her head. It was kinda hard to see straight and she stood on unsteady feet, her lanky body listing to the right toward where the bar was like a dried up sunflower in the wind.
"Dude why'tcha just fuckin' hit'em...?" Wicked slurred, gesturing violently. Patty wouldn't put up with that shit, bein' selfish with the drinks and shit. This was a bar and like, not a popular one. Also he had a bigass sword. Like, he could just give the bar some brand new teeth marks courtesy of someone else and grab whatever the fuck he wanted. Or y'know, just grab something else. There was A LOT of shit here.
"Be all like psssshyeah right dude fuck yoooooouu. Pop!" She pantomimed a right hook into her palm to show her point.

"Ahehehee... heh... y're fuckin' crazy..." the drunk chick would laugh weakly at the knight's spinning head. It was... it was funny and shit but oh my gawd the way it moved. She could feel a preeeeetty familiar tickle in the back of her throat and it wasn't anything good. Usually this came later in the night but she kinda got out of control. Patricia would loudly sigh at the stranger's concern though, as passive-aggressivley as she could make herself sound.
"Pssssh okay Dad," she groaned, turning slowly on her heel to walk around the other side of the bar. Like, she had to sit down.
"Shyeah fuckin' way like he'd fuckin' care." Nah, her folks wouldn't give a shit. They'd just bitch at her for winding up like this and rag on her for not being more like her perfect brother Sean. Fuckin' lame asses. It made her want to drink more. She would've just stopped halway through her drink but fuck it, no one gave a shit what happened. Not even her. Might as well get wasted. Patricia's temperament changed completely for a few moments as she kicked her legs up one foot after the other around to the other side of the bar, sipping on her cocktail. She took a seat on one of the spinning stools and put a hand to her head. It was getting heavy and hard to keep still.

"I'm'na siddown..." she moaned as she slipped onto the stool. Everything was hard now, not like before when it was fun. Her chest started to tickle and she couldn't see straight and listening was hard but she could still do it. She heard him. Kinda. Patricia perked up to answer the knight. She didn't like being sad, being sad sucked, she just wouldn't care about it and it'd go away later.
"Yeah'm right 'cause I know he doesn' they only care about Seeeeaaaan. Ooooh he's sssooooo greeeeaaaat. Psssh, fuck you. Naw y're not like him 'cause he's'n asshole'n y're just weeeeeeird." Of course, she agreed with the wrong comment, basically agreeing with herself. He was a pretty strange guy though. Like, did he know he spoke weird? She'd tell him he spoke weird. Patricia would forget her nausea for a moment to pull herself half across the bar toward him, pretty much lying on it so she could let him know how strange he was.
"Hey, hey hey c'mere soooooo has anyone... told you... you talk real funny...? ...mmmhmmhmmhaahaahaa..."