I can hold my liquor perfectly well, thank you. He was a foot taller than me and four years older, the odds were stacked against me. And you and I are not going to be slamming back shots, not least of which because I'm in my thirties now.
I don't know why everyone's so obsessed with it, is all.
[ Noctis rolls his eyes and lets himself collapse backwards on the couch, one leg bent while the other dangles off of it. He puts his arms behind his head. ]
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Still.
[ Noctis shrugs. ]
Technically, I can't slam back shots with you anyway. Considering I'm not 21 for another few weeks.
[ Hasn't stopped him from drinking. That... One time. ]
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Don't doubt me. I can hold my drink perfectly well, Noctis.
[See, it's set-ups like this that ended in her blackout drunk and being carried home by Charlie Astor.]
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[ Have you not learned, Rosalind? ]
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[SHE'S GONNA WIN THE OTHER BET TOO DON'T DOUBT HER]
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I'm thinking... Laser tag and go-karts. Loser's the first one to pass out.
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[Don't make her deal with the two of them throwing up in her apartment.]
Three shots. Whomever can successfully . . . oh, let's say pour us another round, without spilling, wins.
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Alright fine. Deal.
[ And again, he extends his hand. ]
Didn't take you for a gambler either, Doctor. My childhood view of you might be ruined.
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Poor Noctis! This isn't even the worst thing I could have told you.
Now. Go-karts, you said?
[SHE'S NOT REALLY ALL THAT HAPPY ABOUT THAT . . .]
Can't I shoot you in paintball?
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That doesn't at all sound like a bad loss. You and a paintball gun?
Sure, I'd take a hit to see that.
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[A beat. A smirk crosses her lips as she adds:]
And when I win . . . I want you to cut your hair.
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... My hair is fine the way it is.
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Y-you can see my eyes just fine.
[ Now he's fussing with his bangs. ]
Besides, Retrospec yanked the color anyway. That's an invalid argument.
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How short are we talking?
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[ STILL. PROTESTING. ]
What if I just push it back for a day or something?
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Okay, okay, fine.
I'll cut my damn hair. But only if I lose. Happy?
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[Listen, this might just end in her showing up at laser tag and paintball. Who can say what the future will hold.]
Don't be sulky, now.
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[ Noctis rolls his eyes and lets himself collapse backwards on the couch, one leg bent while the other dangles off of it. He puts his arms behind his head. ]
You, Prompto, Dad.
Everyone's a critic.
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All about the forehead. Ask him yourself.
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