[ Completely lost as to what just happened, JJ takes a moment just to gape at Misa, wondering what her tongue must be made out of to handle a drink that might as well be made out of Tabasco sauce. (Though it doesn't really look like she's "handling" much of it, with the way her face is contorted, eyes watering and looking like she's about to cry.
Poor Misa.) ]
So it's even, eh? Fine, the real competition starts now.
[ He frowns, the next round of glasses coming down in front of them, the bartender wiping up JJ's spit (gross) without so much as a blink of an eye.
And if he doesn't care, then neither does JJ, who picks up the next glass. The next drink doesn't taste much better, the one after falling somewhere along the realm of normal, there's one that's particularly delicious that JJ asks for another glass of, the rules of their little competition becoming more and more distant until JJ's left resting against the bar with his forehead pillowed against his arm. ]
'm drunk. [ Somehow, his slurring isn't particularly bad. ] Everything tastes the same... But I'm drunk.
[ Lifting his head, he gives Misa a bewildered stare. ]
no subject
Poor Misa.) ]
So it's even, eh? Fine, the real competition starts now.
[ He frowns, the next round of glasses coming down in front of them, the bartender wiping up JJ's spit (gross) without so much as a blink of an eye.
And if he doesn't care, then neither does JJ, who picks up the next glass. The next drink doesn't taste much better, the one after falling somewhere along the realm of normal, there's one that's particularly delicious that JJ asks for another glass of, the rules of their little competition becoming more and more distant until JJ's left resting against the bar with his forehead pillowed against his arm. ]
'm drunk. [ Somehow, his slurring isn't particularly bad. ] Everything tastes the same... But I'm drunk.
[ Lifting his head, he gives Misa a bewildered stare. ]
Are we alcoholics?