Bantoras
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A "Fair" Contest
🕑 Added 2025-11-22 04:30:50 +0000 UTC “Now then.” Scherazard declared with theatrical flourish, holding a wine bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, “if Liberl’s Iron Liver insists on being unbeatable, we’ll just have to give ourselves an advantage.” Olivier gasped dramatically. “My dear Silver-Haired Seraph, surely you wouldn’t suggest… tilting the scales?” “I absolutely would...” Scherazard grinned. Inside the glass, a very tiny, very unamused Aina crossed her arms and tapped insistently on the inner wall. “SCHERA! I have a stack of Guild reports to finish today. You two idiots better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Scherazard ignored her. “Look at her! Still all business even when she’s small enough to use a cork as a stool. Honestly, Aina, you really need to loosen up.” “I AM LOOSE. GET ME OUT OF HERE!” “Nope.” Schera tilted the bottle over the glass. "It’s about time we had a “fair” match, Aina... You always seem to be able to drink 50 times the average person. So I thought i’d have your size compensate for it~" Aina sputtered as a wave of amber liquor poured in around her, rising to her waist. “GROW ME BACK RIGHT NOW!!! OR I SWEAR TO ADIOS YOU’LL REGRET THIS...!” Olivier leaned over, delighted. “My, my, she’s rather feisty~ perhaps a drink will calm her down a little...” “OLIVIER!!!” The two clinked their own glasses with absolute confidence. Later on… Some time passed. Probably too much time. Olivier was now face-down on the table, snoring softly, occasionally mumbling “My muse… come back…” before going silent again. Schera lay flat on her back, legs sprawled as her feet propped up on a small crate. Her hair stuck to her forehead, her cheeks glowing red. “Wha-wha’sh... happenin’…?” she slurred, eyes half-focused. Between her feet, completely untouched by the alcohol poured over her earlier, not even pink-cheeked sat a tiny Aina, holding a bottle larger than her whole body and drinking from it like it was a casual afternoon snack. “Un… unbelievable…” Schera mumbled. “You… you’re not even swayin’… w-why aren’t you swayin’…? C’mon… jus’ once… hic… fall over…” Aina looked up, entirely steady. “Schera, I told you. I have reports to finish. I can’t get drunk right now.” “Thash CHEATIN’…” Schera attempted to point at her, but her finger missed by a solid foot of air. She giggled, groaned, and then collapsed, passing out mid-curse. Aina sighed, “My... This was certainly a nice break, but I really should be getting back to the Bracer Guild now...” She took one last swig from the bottle, draining it in three gulps. After tossing it away, Aina looked back at the unconscious Bracer, amused at the all too common sight before her, even if it was from a newer perspective this time around. "Once you've sobered up later... I'll be sure to keep my word..."
