Mexico shenanigans group log [OPEN]

[inchesofevil]

WHO: The Mexico evacuees!
WHERE: Mexico City (or also anywhere en route between the porter cities and there)
WHEN: Feb 15 onwards, through the duration of the coup
WHAT: Do you want Mexico shenanigans? Here is your catch-all/mingle post for Mexico shenanigans, please enjoy. (See the OOC mod post for details.)
WARNINGS: Please put warnings in your subjectlines if necessary!

Comments

[inchesofevil]

[A. Airport]

[I am sorry to anyone who gets stuck next to Duncan at any leg of the journey from Heropa to Mexico City because he is incapable of sitting still when he's anxious, and there's nothing like an enemy occupation and looming war to make a dude anxious.

At least he's mostly quiet, though. The only incident of any real note occurs going through security at the airport just across the border, when the agent pulls him aside to point out (in Spanish) that there's a sword in his bag. "Es un problema?" he asks, looking nervous, but not the 'caught doing something wrong' kind of nervous--the 'fuck please don't make my day worse' kind. If you happen to be listening with the mental communicator's auto-translate function active, you'll hear it as "That a problem?" with the twangiest Texas drawl you've ever heard, which is a stark contrast to the neutral American accent on Duncan's English.

After a brief discussion Duncan is forced to check his bag before finally being allowed through security, making him one of the last of the refugees to arrive at the terminal. Which brings us back to the first paragraph, and to how I am sorry if you are the one he winds up sitting next to, because his leg will not stop fucking bouncing. Even when he slaps a hand down on his knee and braces his whole upper body weight against it to force himself to stop, it just moves to the other leg. At that point he bursts out of his seat to start pacing, because god fuckin damn there is so much nervous energy pent up in his body that he feels like a fucking wind-up toy, like he's going to snap and break if he can't let that energy out somehow.

If he's this bad in the airport, the tight restrictions of the actual plane ride is going to make it intolerable.]


[B. Drinking Contest]

[Mikazuki is on his way to becoming Duncan's new best friend. He has discovered the most genius solution to Duncan's drinking problem--or non-problem as the case may be. See, his healing factor means he metabolizes alcohol about twenty times faster than normal people, which makes it extremely difficult to drink enough fast enough to get himself well and truly drunk, and even harder to stay there for any meaningful length of time. His attempts usually wind up expensive failures, or very expensive mild successes at best.

But Mikazuki heard Duncan's problem and proposed a plan so amazingly simple and brilliant that Duncan was stunned he'd never thought of it before.

Rigged drinking contests.

Halfway through their first week in the country, it becomes a common sight to find the two of them hanging out in the corner of some dive bar in the evenings, Mikazuki calling out challenges and taking bets while Duncan proceeds to drink all comers under the table. Not only does he finally manage to maintain a pleasant buzz for a satisfying length of time, he also gets to make a profit doing it!

The thing is--and this is how they keep getting suckers roped into this--Duncan is a weed who does not look the least bit like someone who can down six shots and be perfectly fine. And normally, that would be true. But with his healing factor's base speed, plus the ability to covertly accelerate it manually if necessary, means he is basically cheating like the wind.

So there's this skinny nerd whose friend is claiming he can beat anyone in a drinking contest and their table is already littered with empty tequila bottles, so the natural assumption--especially once one hears Duncan speak, with the lazy enunciation and slow Texas drawl that comes out when he drinks--is that he's already three sheets to the wind and victory is assured.

And they are wrong. Every time.

Of course anybody who saw Duncan's first post to the network knows they're running a fucking scam, so uh. Let's hope nobody calls him out on it around the wrong sore loser, eh?]


[C. Choose your own adventure]

[Wildcard! Duncan can be found in and around the apartments, with a few forays out into the city to experience the local culture. He is also fluent in Spanish and makes himself available as a translator for anyone who needs assistance navigating the city.]

B

[wishedforbread]

"Almost feels like cheating, doesn't it?"

Though when he actually thought about it, he had to admit "Actually I guess it kind of is cheating, but I mean you can't help it if you can't get drunk, right?"

Mikazuki WAS three sheets to the wind at this point, as he lacked anything resembling a healing factor, but he was the kind of person who honestly wasn't that different drunk from how he was sober. Impulsive, free, and easy. "You think someone's going to try and beat us up at some point?" He asked with a nerve wracking lack of concern.

Overhead, Muu kept watch from her perch on a telephone wire. Or possibly she was just ignoring them. It was hard to tell with her.

[inchesofevil]

Duncan let out a laugh at that. "'Re you kiddin', this's the hardest I ever cheated at anything in my life."

Along with the empty shot glasses and dead tequila soldiers, he also had a half-empty glass of Long Island iced tea that he was actually drinking for the taste. He picked it up, leaning back in his chair to take a gulp; sipping is a thing of the past at this stage of being drunk. "But it's also the most fun I've had since I wound up in this godf'rsaken universe, so I'll fuckin' take it," he added, setting the glass back down a little harder than he meant to. What is fine motor control can you drink it