“The rules are simple. We drink, until we cannot. The winner shall be the one who throws in the towel, vomits, or passes out first. Or perhaps some mix of the above~?” A woman who would clearly never accept no as her first or perhaps any kind of answer when she put her mind to things, it did not take long for Miss Azar to find herself in a place which seemed to provide them with a more equal footing when it came to the contest between herself and the gruff but chivalrous figure who had impeded her honour, or perhaps just proven intriguing enough to co-opt as her drinking buddy for the evening. Either way, she now found herself presented with a pair of reasonably sized tumblers flush with amber fluid, and rules to elaborate upon as she got her rival on board with the plan.
“B'sahtak, Horvath~!” Refusing to acknowledge him fully or even his easy right to walk away from her until he had garnered enough respect or reason otherwise for her to do so, once the plan had been laid out the desert rose lifted up one of her drinks and raised it in a toast, and carried every intention to make the evening interesting for them or make a rather drunken fool of herself trying…