See Chapter 1 for the disclaimer and general info.

Writers: Me then Trace

Raith, and probably Kin from the looks of it, had both hit that pleasantly drunk stage where if they had been asked if they were drunk would have denied it vigorously. Raith wore a happily bemused smile, mainly at his own cleverness at breaking into somewhere with out using craft. One that didn't disappear when Kin elbowed him to disclose something important, causing him to have to grab the bar top to quit from falling off his stool and inspecting the floor again.
Damn boats, they were bloody tricky with their moving floors. Not that they had set sail yet.

He snickered and grinned "Drinks!" He declared, "Shiny drinks full of happy colours!"

But his face fell when Kin said no fireworks. "AWWWWWW I likes fireworks they go boom!" He started sniggering again.

The bar man looked at the two of them, they were both obviously off their faces and he couldn't decide whether it would be safer to keep them happy by giving them more alcohol or safer for everyone by denying them it and letting the Blacks burn it out there system. Sober or pissed? Two drunken Warlord Princes could go either way and from the matching Blacks round there neck, not only could he identify exactly who they were but he could also recognise how much damage they could do if they got it into their heads that it would be fun to blow up the ship.

Raith noticed his hesitation and beckoned him over, standing precariously on the bar across his stool's legs for more height.
"It's ok." He said smiling in what he thought was a comforting manner while Kin continued to giggle to himself and swing round on his stool. "Honestly."
The bar man approached cautiously and Raith grinned encouraging like he was calling a small puppy who wasn't sure if it was going to get smacked.
"Hold out your hand." He commanded and nodded animatedly as the Warlord did it causing him to lurch to one side and mutter about bloody water and how it should be flat.

The thick wedge of Silver Marks he called in was generous by anyone's standards but the barman's eye bludged and he gave the pair of them another look, cash weighing against danger.

"SEE!" Raith stated "Drinks, alcohol, colours, shiny, more alcohol and a few fire works if you can find them. Hop to it!"

He clapped, falling backwards at the same time, and gently toppling over the stool ended up flat on his back. Raith sniggered, especially when a rotund Prince appeared over him, wearing a hideously patterned holiday shirt and red in the face and not just from sunburn.

"Hey I've got a shirt like that!" Said Raith and returned to sniggering loudly.

The Prince spluttered and his red face turning crimson before he managed to get any words out. "THAT'S BECAUSE IT'S MINE!"

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Kin sat on the stool twirling around and around, giggling when he knocked a drink off the bar. When he heard Raith say something about drinks he stopped and looked, watching as the server brought them more shiny pretty drinks. "Ohhh," he leaned down, eye level with the pink one and grinned like a little boyo. "I want zis..." he went to continue but was interrupted by Raith as he fell off the stool.

Kin started laughing so fucking hard that he almost fell off his stool too. When Raith was confronted by a very large male that said he had his shirt on, Kin laughed. "I'z heven bet you'z have one lite tis here." He picked up the shirt from his chest and pulled it out, letting it fall back to his chest. He was slurring so bad he almost was unable to understand himself. He started giggling before the man turned to look.

"Why yes I do. That is my shirt." He turned to the woman with him and crossed his arms over his big chest. "Margie, these two little fucks have my clothes on." He huffed, looking back over at Raith and Kin. "What do you think I should do about that?" He stared down at Raith and then gave Kin the hairy eyeball.

Kin laughed and held his finger out, poking the man in the eye. "Mother Night Margie these two are drunk as skunks." He snarled and slapped Kin's hand away.

"Howz skunks are drunk?" Kin laughed and teetered on his stool, trying again to say what he was trying to say. "Howz drunks are skunks?" He poked at the mans eye again. "Drunks skunks are howz?" He shook his head and waved his hand. "Skunks drunk Howz Are?" He shook his head again and waved his hand, hitting the guy with it.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" The man screamed.

Kin jumped and got a serious look on his face. "Nowz listen her, mine friend don there, don like a lots of carrin on." He waved his hands. "Hez getin antzy." He looked down at Raith. "Aint that there right?" He mumbled, barely audible from the slur in his voice. "Nowz if youz aren't getin away fromz us, I'llz kik yourz azzez." He looked at him and punched his hand, falling back off the stool, grunting when he landed on his wings. Looking over at Raith he giggled, "Izn't that wight?" He nodded curtly and laughed again, looking back up at the man that claimed they had his clothes on.