Snippet #1513175

"Oh, that'sh no problem. I don't think you ruin thingsh."

Duran thought the words were coming from a sincere place despite Faera's present impairment. He didn't let the compliment quite inflate his ego, but he was glad that he wasn't ruining somebody's fun times, despite his refusal to participate. He fought the urge to let a smile creep to his face; He was a little ashamed to say that the thought of this party was growing on him, but it seemed as though it was creeping up on him unexpectedly. He fought off the urge to become more social like an insomniac struggling with the weight of their eyelids.

A smile slowly crept onto his face, but he immediately discarded it when Beelzes cracked a smile of her own in his direction. There was something about that old Deep Human that rubbed Duran the wrong way. He couldn't let her have a victory over him. It was like some kind of compulsion.

"Oh- oooh. Thish ish one of those timesh when someone saysh shomething polite when they want to leave. Tala told me about thish. Don't let me keep you here- shorry."

"Uh...no, I-" Duran was cut off by Faera getting up from her seat and opening the door, presumably for him. He began to stop her, in at least an attempt to not look rude, but it seemed that the Dark Elf was having some trouble as she hit her head on the door, and began a teeter characteristic of somebody who may have had more to drink than they were willing to admit. The cool air rushed in from the open door, the scent of fresh rain coming in with it.

"I... don't feel sho good..."

Duran didn't have a lot of experience with drunks, but he knew a warning sign when he saw one. He stayed in his seat, and watched the Dark Elf carefully, for what he expected to come next. He prepared to jump out of his seat, either to dodge the ensuing vomit, or to catch her the second that she blacked out and fell over.