>Archive links:
archive.4plebs.org
suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com
Twitter: twitter.com
You are Urist Twelfthbay, and you are the moe personification of Dwarf Fortress because the universe of Gamindustri is a sick sunnovabitch. The less said about that, the better.
As a short, sturdy creature fond of drink and industry, you're no stranger to booze or inebriation. Hell, you're reasonably sure that's why monsters always delight in ripping your minions open: your average dwarf's blood alcohol content is high enough to get anyone rip-roaring drunk from fumes alone.
Thing is, you're not very familiar with the /effects/ of getting drunk, 'cause the amount of booze required to make you black out is about the same amount required to kill you by alcohol poisoning. You've never had to develop weird folksy remedies against hangovers, like using xdog hairx or resorting to drinking water. Why would you? You're always either 1) detrimentally sober, 2) sufficiently boozed up, or 3) dead from alcohol poisoning.
So when you DO see someone passed out from too much booze, it's always a little disquieting. It's like being able to see /both/ possible statuses of Schrodinger's cat happening at the same time, and then the damn beast adds a previously unknowable gray area between dead and alive.
So yeah, Compa's somewhere between "sufficiently boozed up" and "has too much booze and may or may not die," and you can't fucking tell where she is on that sliding scale. Doesn't help that the idiot interpreted "yes, you can drink this" as "drink the whole goddamned flask, do it now."
(Cont.)