Leading? (ACLM)

Faunus ears pinned lightly against her head, Chelsea's gaze remained locked upon the surface of the table before her. Lilac voids would close softly as she silently listened to her team leader's little poetic phase. A small smile spread across her lips as though in appreciation, eyes of hers opening just the slightest bit as she tilted her head off and toward the side in order to look toward the blonde. "Th-that...that was beautiful..." she muttered within an uttermost of bashfulness, her ears twitching all the while. Thoughts of her own poems and other literary works seemed to pop gradually within her intellect after hearing the lad's poetic bit.

She opened her mouth yet again, signaling that she was about to say more. However no words would come out, for at that exact same moment, she heard a rather loud chain of yells. Clinking followed by a quiet thud next to her would come soon afterwards. Her head turned yet again, and she blinked as she saw one of her fellow teammates knock out into his food. "...Wow..." would come the whisper as she lifted a hand with some hesitance, gently poking the side of Fionn's neck.

Coran was listening intensely to his teammates' stories and was about to offer a few words on comradery and overcoming challenges together, but then Fionn stole his mead. For a brief instant Coran was angry; you do not take man's drink like that, you ask him to buy you one, but you just don't swipe it while he's enjoying said drink. His brown aura flared for that instant, and his companions may have felt a slight increase in their strength but he Coran kept a cool head. "Knock yourself out." He said dryly as he ordered another flagon for himself.

The poetry did not surprise Coran, the title of Warrior Poet wasn't for nothing, Roy had a way with words that Coran envied to a point. "Well said." He raised his flagon and chugged it for a bit before slamming it down and attacking the pork chops in front of him. The drunken outburst however did surprise him, though with all his years of drinking Coran had no trouble understanding what the boy had said. "I didn't expect him to take it literally..." He said raising an eyebrow in confusion. "So much for the competition." Coran wasn't sure if what he's been drinking was stronger than he thought it was, but his tolerance to alcohol has rendered him immune to its effects or that Fionn was greatly overestimating his own tolerance.

Though the sight of the boy's face planting right into his plate was too much for Coran. He burst out laughing, it might seem silly and stupid but to Coran it was down right hilarious. "He looks..." He was trying to talk through the fits of laughter. "He looks...just like a kid at his first Great Feast." he said to Roy before continuing his laughter. Sober Coran might have checked to make sure he was alright, but drunk Coran was laughing his ass off. Drunk Coran was kind of an ass that way.

Roy sighed instead of laughed. He had been around barbarians long enough to know what a drunkard was saying. It seemed Fionn was going to be the team's "Problem" member. Every team seemed to have at least one, or so he had heard.

Pretentious? Really now...

Roy realized he was sipping white wine and reciting poetic verses while the others were eating burgers, pork chops, and pasta. Maybe he WAS a bit pretentious.

When the young man passed out into his pasta, Roy followed Chelsea's lead and checked for a pulse as he pulled him up out of the dish so he could breathe. Well, he was still alive at least. And the establishment's security was looking to toss him out on his rear.

"Well, it appears we'll have to cut this short if we want to stay out of trouble. Security is giving us the evil eye."


He sighed. Fionn seemed to be much like Coran. Restraint meant nothing.