(( LOG : liquor ))

[downplaying]

[Characters:] Claude & Jean Louis
[Date:] 31.12.2017 / 01.01.2018
[Summary:] Oh God, they are so drunk.
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[He's drunk. So drunk. He's not stupid, he feels it in his fingers, he feels it in his toes... Nevertheless, he abandons Vincent in Mireille's otherwise wholly engaging company, in order to cross the room to where Jean Louis has just poured himself another shot of their most expensive whiskey (a gift he's brought himself) and sit down next to the other man. Vincent's boss. Their once so highly profiled State Minister. Icarus fell, huh?]

You better have brought us something good.

[He gestures to the bottle of whiskey, half-empty already next to Jean Louis' full glass.]

Comments

[population_ctrl]

[It's a good whiskey, naturally. He wouldn't buy himself anything less and, well plainly, he's the one drinking it tonight. He does like thinking ahead, even if his political adversaries (and non-political, too) tend to underestimate his abilities to do so. Their loss, of course. Inevitably. He doesn't look at Claude when he sits down next to him, gaze focused on the glass somewhat... intensely. Mind too slow to bother with action.]

It's excellent. I don't buy...

[Pause as he searches for a better word than 'crap'. Because he's not ten years old. His brain won't cooperate, however, and he ends up just staring at the glass in front of him some more.]