Standing at the refreshment table, a little apart from the mingling crowd, a rather tanned woman seemed to be in the process of steadily guzzling down glass after glass of wine. Though she didn't limit herself<em>only</em>to wine, the assortment of fruits and cheeses were no longer replete and instead would soon be in dire need of replacements.<br/><br/>Dressed in fine dark red and cream silks, the colors seemed to accentuate her bronzed skin.  Her waist-length locks of raven black hair had been plaited and twisted up elegantly at her neck. The more observant socialites may have noticed a hint of a tattoo showing from the top of her elbow length gloves, or perhaps even notice her leather booted toes peeking out from beneath the hem of her dress as she made her way up and down the length of the refreshment table.<br/><br/>As the strange gentleman made his way slowly across the room, weaving in and out of the crowd while placing and replacing glasses of wine with every other step, the woman was in the middle of sampling some strange new cheese when he settled in beside her. Munching thoughtfully on a cluster of grapes, she gazed out the window behind the table at the darkening evening sky. The man next to her was showering pleasantries and petty compliments every which way, though she found her own eyes drifting over to the creme brulee when it was mentioned.<br/><br/>The only indication she gave that she actually knew that man was the slightest of nods. Grabbing yet another glass of wine, she flashed him a quick grin and made her way into the crowd with a soft "Aye, Cap'n."<br/><br/>Adapting a slight swaggering step to her walk, Myobi suddenly attached herself to the nearest woman in the midst of a chattering throng. Leaning heavily onto the other woman, a lady who seemed in her mid-thirties and married to the pot-bellied sleaze next to her no doubt, she took a long drink from her wine glass and then heaved a sigh, making sure that her alcohol-laden breath had made itself known. "Fine party here ain't it?" A noticeable slur had made its way into her words, and she stared pointedly at who she presumed to be the woman's husband.<br/><br/>Turning to the woman's ear, she spoke loudly in a stage-whisper that really wasn't a whisper at all. It was actually a notch louder than normal conversational tones. "Lookit that geezer. Ain't his wig somethin'? How many sewer rats d'ya think it took ta make?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Cliche used: High-Tolerance (for alcohol), Rum-Guzzling, First Mate (4)<br/>Roll Result: Myobi rolled: 4d6<br/>Comment:<br/>Result: 2, 3, 6, 2,<br/>Total: 13