A mug was slammed down onto the table to the raucous cheer of the crowd gathering around the two opponents, soon followed by a booted feet as one Captain Skyler Dross stepped onto the table, coat flaring out behind her and fierce (although slightly lopsided) grin in place. "That's a weak ass drink, Scallywag. I hafta show you how ta drink like a real man."

Clear liquid sloshed inside the bottle that Skyler brought to her lips, face devoid of expression as she chugged the tequila in one swift go. Instead of slamming it down, however, Skyler threw it at the nearest wall, cheers rising up as it broke into tiny shards. A finger was pointed at Doug in triumph. Did she even remember his name? "Thas how you drink, Scallywaggy!" 

Somewhere behind her a fight broke out, though Skyler expertly ignored it. "C'mon," she challenged with drunken bravado, "gimmie your best shot."

John Sullivan

Doug vs Skyler

Drinking buddies at war

"Don't come cryin'! BARTENDER! GIVE ME. THE BOTTLE!" Roared Doug with a wide grin while staring up right back at skyler dross, holding out his hand towards the bar tender.

The man blanched for a moment, before swallowing hard and sliding up the Vodka bottle to Doug.

The youth caught in his palm, before throwing back his head and chug, chug, chugging the drink, to the abject gasps of the crowd around them, the guys fighting stopping short of punching each other on the floor to gasp in horror.

Knees woobling under him, Doug slammed the half empty bottle of Vodka down, his stomach bubbling and trembling and all around feeling very not good as he buuurped loudly, barely managing to climb atop the table as well on shaky legs before pressing up the bottle to Skyler's chest.

"Yer move, Captn'."

Like the rest of the rowdy establishment, Skyler watched in mute shock (and quickly growing respect) as Doug grabbed hold of a vodka bottle and chugged the whole thing down without pausing to even breathe. Silver eyes blinked a couple of time, a bit too slowly due to her own inebriation, as the cogs inside her hazy brain worked to make sense of what she'd just seen.

Then, out of nowhere, a bark of uproarious laughter exploded out of her mouth, breaking the sudden silence which had fallen over the bar. Skyler grabbed onto the bottle shoved into her chest - "Oi, watch where you put that thing!" - and turned to the barkeep. "Shives, get us a Bonnie Wench!" Horror didn't begin to describe the expression that spread across the man's face.

"Aight, Scallwag, you aren't half bad, I'll give ya that." Captain Dross stepped forward and shoved a finger precariously close to one of Doug's eyes. "But I bet ya can't take this one."

Her proclamation was followed by two bubbling mugs slamming onto the table. Inside, a dark liquid spelled out doom and death. The fetid stench that waffled from it was enough to make anyone gag.

"Bottom's up!" And with a lopsided grin that betrayed exactly how drunk she truly was, Captain Skyler Dross put the mug to her lips and drank. 

John Sullivan

Doug vs Skyler

Drinking buddies at war

Doug didn't even feel his lower body anymore. He was probably standing only because his leg muscles had all cramped up so tightly the tension was akin to actually exerting force.

"Bonnie Wench? More like Bloody Stench! This thin' smells awful!" The youth said between giggles and laughs, snatching up his drink with the infinite confidence of youngster drunkard.

He was 17 and drunk. He was immortal.

"Ya talk big game, Capt'n!" He said as he juggled the contents of his drink in the air for all to see, the men surrounding the table stepping back and away, lest a single spilled drop eat through their flesh and bone. "Let's see if ya can back it up! See ya on the other side!"

The youth brought it to his lips, and then threw back his head, slurping soundly.

---

He snapped awake with a gasp, then a wheeze, the earth under him moving to and fro as he brought his hands to his mouth.

His head feeling like it had been hit with a pick axe and his stomach with a hammer, he scrambled to his feet in a sudden rush, and ran. He stumbled onto every wall and surface.

He didn't recognize anything around him, but he needed to-

He broke out into deck and immediately made for the railing, dumping a his vomit off the side of the ship.

"... Uuuurgh... Never again." He muttered, folded over the railing like a wet rag.

... Where the hell was he?

Captain Skyler Dross didn't make it to her apartment. She woke up with the sun blazing down at her face in a way that had her already throbbing head flash with pain. A hissed threat, followed by an impressive string of colorful curses that probably shouldn't ever see the light of day, preluded the captain's rise from her perch against the railing at the bow of the ship.

Only to then turn around and promptly lose her dinner down into the ocean.

Similar sounds reached her ears - and when Skyler was done, she turned to greet the sight of a hungover teenager. "Scallywag?" Her voice was hoarse and slightly raspy. She stumbled her way over to Doug with faltering steps. "Shit, can't the sun just chill for a bit?" It was obnoxiously bright, which in tandem with the screeching Wingulls, just made her head feel like it might explode. "And someone make those birds shut up."

Down in the docks a couple of passing fishermen stopped briefly to stare at her and Doug, hushed words passing between them before they were met with a heated silver glare and quickly walked away.

"The fuck was that?"

John Sullivan

Doug vs Skyler

Drinking buddies at war

"Capt'n?" Muttered Doug as a string of incomprehensible cursing came from nearby, the youth barely managing to unfold himself from the railing with noodle arms. "C- crud... did I break somethin'...?"

Swinging himself to face skyler dross, the youth quickly lost balance and found himself leaning against the railing, grinning at Skyler.

"Hah! You look like crap." He said hypocritically, his smile pained as he reached up to rub at his temples. "Urgh... How did I get'ere anyway...?"

As a few Dock gossipers were sent packing by Skyler's glare, Doug vomited off the side of the ship once more.

"Dunno." He said, swiping his forearm across his lip. "But I need a bath. And a water."

Absolutely not of the salty kind.

"Ya got a shower in this thin'?" He asked, grasping at the back of his waist and stretching his spine with several pops, before quickly losing his balance and scrambling back several unsteady steps before his back met a wooden surface.

"Could the world please stop moving...?"

"Haven't found your sea legs yet, ey?" She isn't any better despite the words that spew forth from her mouth, swaying in place and having to hold on to the railing before she falls on her ass. The way the world's spinning around her has nothing to do with the tides brushing against the hull of the ship and more to do with the collection of bottles strewn about the deck.

Just how much...?

"Looking good yourself, Scallywag." Skyler slams a hand down onto Doug's shoulder in an attempt at camaderie, unaware of the strength behind the gesture. Flashes of memories trickle into her mind, but she pushes them away for now - before her head splits into two.

"C'mon, I got a shower and some-" She was about to suggest breakfast when the mere idea of it has her turning slightly green, "- some medicine." 

A minute or so later, Captain Dross is opening the door to her apartment, letting Doug in before showing him the bathroom. She discreetly (or as discreetly as she can, which is to say not at all) kicks away some boxers that definitely aren't her own. It quickly becomes apparent that Skyler isn't, exactly, living on her own.

"Don't use up all the hot water!"

Ominous sounds start trickling out from the kitchen.

John Sullivan

Doug vs Skyler

Drinking buddies at war

"Goootcha."

After being effectively floored by a friendly pat on the shoulder, Doug decided that he needed the shower even more than had initially believed, and only half or so an hour later, the youth was exiting skyler dross's bathroom, redressed in clothes that reeked of alcohol, for he had little else.

He had enough grace not to mention the signs of, uh, other lifeforms in the woman's apartment ship as he approached the kitchen, taking one deep breath of relief before almost immediately regretting his choices.

"Ah shit, did we kill someone too?!"

The first thing that greets Doug as he steps into the kitchen (aside from the foul stench that invades and conquers his nostrils, laying waste to his sense of smell) is a small green blob. Looking closely, this would reveal itself to be a Gulpin, dutifully getting rid of whatever mess Skyler had made out of the kitchen this time.

As a reply to Doug's question, Captain Dross slams a mug of... something down on the counter. "Drink. It helps." If something nice could be said about the thick liquid inside the container was that at least it was no Bonnie Wench.

As soon as Skyler sits on one of the benches, she deflates and a groan of despair rises up from her halfway hidden face.

"Shit, Doug... What d'you remember from last night?" As if to punctuate the confusion creasing her brows, a collection of objects is laid on the counter between them: an officious-looking crumpled piece of paper, some pocket money, a knock-off kyle lopez action figure with googly eyes, and finally a selfie of the two of them (drunkenly) posing in front of an ice-covered building.

Golden glitter covers everything.

John Sullivan

Doug vs Skyler

Drinking buddies at war

Eventually, John stopped breathing.

All creatures are born to suffer. Through suffering, one transcends their earthly desires and chains, and is freed into Nirvana.

He had transcended the need for breathing. So he insisted to himself as he walked into the kitchen, nearly collapsing back onto his knees as the pungent smell hit him with the force of a creationist explosion.

A peaceful expression upon his countenance, he took his seat at the kitchen counter and gazed upon the items spread over its surface with wise eyes, his face slowly turning purple before he spoke.

"I ain't got a clue." He said with a confident smile, before quietly tipping back and landing on the floor, asphyxiations slowly taking over.

Her cooking skills (or lack thereof) had finally killed someone - just not in the way everyone who remotely knew her expected them to.

Fortunately for the teenager currently asphyxiating to death (or at least unconsciousness) in her kitchen, Captain Dross has more or less knowledge of what to do in these kinds of situations (she did work as a lifeguard for a whole summer back before she'd gotten her own boat). So when the 'thud' reaches her ears, she's already up and in motion, only slightly delayed due to the splitting headache that bursts forth whenever she moves too quickly.

Doug is transported to the living room and given the proper procedure, the details of which shall not be mentioned here. Somehow in the confusion, her tv switches on - coincidentally on the local news channel and even more coincidentally, showcasing small videos of the on-going tournament.

Skyler wouldn't have paid it any attention, except for the fact that her own face stares back at her from the tv screen, framed by three pissed off Lapras - and facing an off-camera Doug. A couple of seconds later, the newsman's voice trickles in. "... appears to have sustained considerable damage. The League has already stepped forward, claiming all responsibility for the destruction of one of Slateport's most beloved historical statues..."

"Uh... Scallywag? You should see this."

John Sullivan

Doug vs Skyler

Drinking buddies at war

"Whuh?!" Doug suddenly gasped back to life, sitting up sharply before immediately regretting it, falling back flat on the couch before rolling off and onto Skyler's floor, continuing to roll sideways until he reached the nearest bin, where he hauled his maw atop it to unload the contents of his stomach for the... Whatever' time this morning.

"Just kill me already." He muttered into the bin like it were his personal torturer, wheezing for breath- before Skyler's voice reached him. "'Scuse me?"

Managing to haul himself onto his knees and away from the bin, the youth more or less crawled/dragged his way back to the couch, leaning against as the news plodded on in the TV.

The youth squinted at the TV for a moment, his vision blurry. Upon recognizing the Captain's heroic figure within however, he felt his stomach surge.

"Oh god, my career is over." He muttered under his breath, slumping against the couch. Or so he thought for a good moment... until he realized he wasn't on frame.

Oh good. He wouldn't be demoted back to civilian delinquent.

"... Ya have three Laprases?"

---

tags: skyler dross

Long used to the ways of the hangover, Skyler Dross watches with no small dose of amusement as the youth rolls around on the floor and empties the contents of his stomach onto the nearest bin. When Doug rolls around again at the sound of her voice and peers at the television like he's actually processing the images, Skyler hands him a glass of water she'd just gotten from the kitchen.

There's no glass of water for the captain; she's found other ways to navigate through her hangovers, and they were probably as healthy as her cooking.

The teenager's exclamation draws her attention away from her thoughts, silver eyes focusing on the screen's background - namely, the three Lapras Doug has pointed out. 

"What?! No. That's utterly ridiculous." Her brows crease in displeasure and she lets herself lean back, draping her limbs all over the couch in a messy, ungraceful arrangement. 

"I've got thirteen of 'em. Guess you only got to meet the three yesterday." 

Meanwhile, the tv drones on. Skyler pauses it and hits rewind, tracking back to where the tournament news had started and watching it for a second time - this time taking in the details of their supposed battle with narrowed eyes. Stupid statue, it hadn't even been that pretty.

"What d'you reckon, scallywag?" Captain Dross grins, a hand reaching for the teenager's head to ruffle his hair, probably to his annoyance. She hadn't noticed it until now, but he is taller. Probably taller than her. Huh. "Who won?"

John Sullivan