True. Whenever I was at home my boss would have us end the night off with parties, most of the time I didn't go too hard but I did participate.
(alcohol is fine enough, whenever cellinia spots weiss didn't have plates she gets up from the couch and saunters off towards her nearby kitchen. Thankfully she had plenty of them, getting stocked up was a must and she preferred to keep things nice and ready for in the event she has guests. she might be a loner in a lot of the ways yet company was something she never hated; if anything it helped distract her while she steps back into the living room with a few plates gathered up. she set them about the table for both sides while also bringing back water for when they do start drinking.
she's not an alcoholic, but she's had her fair share of hangovers that were terrible. it's best to keep some close-by in any case, the tiramisu and pasta isn't something she minds on terms of combos. there was worse done in terra and normally it varied on whether it was good or not; not that cellinia is an amazing cook but she did know her way around the kitchen enough to avoid eating out consistently.)
Don't worry about it, I mentioned it before to people but nothing beats the chocolate pasta sauce a celebrity chef made back in my second home. Long story short, he got exiled and near caused a diplomatic incident after moving to another country over it.
(then again, cellinia also would have made a face more if this was pineapple on pizza. like any warm blooded italian (siracusan in this case) she would have been offended. columbian by birth or not, her blood is still the same as her fellow countrymen who she left behind so long ago. men and women who would label her nasty things while under the impression she brought anything upon herself; all over one terrible deed that she would not wish upon others.
one she hasn't talked about no matter the way that moon sunk its claws in her, that demand to speak it out. to say it. that her terrible secret is one of the worst anyone could ever do. killing her father.)
no subject
(alcohol is fine enough, whenever cellinia spots weiss didn't have plates she gets up from the couch and saunters off towards her nearby kitchen. Thankfully she had plenty of them, getting stocked up was a must and she preferred to keep things nice and ready for in the event she has guests. she might be a loner in a lot of the ways yet company was something she never hated; if anything it helped distract her while she steps back into the living room with a few plates gathered up. she set them about the table for both sides while also bringing back water for when they do start drinking.
she's not an alcoholic, but she's had her fair share of hangovers that were terrible. it's best to keep some close-by in any case, the tiramisu and pasta isn't something she minds on terms of combos. there was worse done in terra and normally it varied on whether it was good or not; not that cellinia is an amazing cook but she did know her way around the kitchen enough to avoid eating out consistently.)
Don't worry about it, I mentioned it before to people but nothing beats the chocolate pasta sauce a celebrity chef made back in my second home. Long story short, he got exiled and near caused a diplomatic incident after moving to another country over it.
(then again, cellinia also would have made a face more if this was pineapple on pizza. like any warm blooded italian (siracusan in this case) she would have been offended. columbian by birth or not, her blood is still the same as her fellow countrymen who she left behind so long ago. men and women who would label her nasty things while under the impression she brought anything upon herself; all over one terrible deed that she would not wish upon others.
one she hasn't talked about no matter the way that moon sunk its claws in her, that demand to speak it out. to say it. that her terrible secret is one of the worst anyone could ever do. killing her father.)