A Taste For Chicken

Fireball

In a dimly lit bar, the atmosphere was buzzing with the lively hum of chatter and clinking glasses. Nestled in a corner booth, Hawks and Halcyon sat across from each other, the air between them electric with anticipation. Before them, ten shots of potent alcohol were meticulously lined up, the amber liquid reflecting the overhead lights.

Kiwi, Heron, and Perplex were crowded around the table. The group had already partaken in their fair share of drinks, but this was the big event. Kiwi nudged Heron with a playful grin and Heron smirked back at her. Perplex, leaned back in her chair with her hands folded in her lap.

Hawks, with his wings folded behind him, eyed the shots with a confident smirk. His sharp eyes flickered to Halcyon, who met his gaze with equal determination. Halcyon, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, tousled her short brown hair with one hand and leaned forward with that cocky smirk Hawks had grown so accustomed to.

"Ready to lose, Birdy?" she teased, her voice a playful lilt, "You're gonna wish you'd just come clean about that popcorn."

Hawks chuckled, though a faint blush crept up his cheeks. He pointed at her and said, "Bring it on. I'm not about to just let you say whatever about me."

With a nod from Kiwi, who had taken it upon herself to be the unofficial referee, the two competitors reached for their first shot. They downed it simultaneously, the fiery liquid burning a path down their throats. The three around them cheered and clapped, the noise rising as they moved swiftly on to the next.

As the shots were consumed one after the other, Halcyon's playful and flirty nature became more pronounced. Her pale skin was flushed and she leaned in closer to Hawks, her breath hot and fanning on his cheek. "You sure you can handle me, Birdy?" she whispered, her tone both a challenge and a tease.

Hawks wings fluffed up behind him and he stammered for a moment before regaining his composure. "I think the question is, can you handle me?" he shot back, though the faint tremor in his voice betrayed his nerves.

Perplex watched with a bemused smile, her dry tone cutting through the din. "He's blushing. Didn't know he had it in him," she chuckled.

Heron and Kiwi laughed, their eyes twinkling with mirth. "Come on, Hal! Show him what's up!" Kiwi cheered, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

By the seventh shot, both Hawks and Halcyon were feeling the effects. Their movements were slightly slower, their expressions a mix of determination and hazy inebriation. Halcyon, ever the provocateur, leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against Hawks' ear.

"You know," she murmured, "I've always liked a challenge."

Hawks' face turned a deeper shade of red, and he struggled to keep his cool. With his hand on her cheek, he pushed her back into her seat across from him. "You're cheating," he huffed, his voice low, "But... I kinda like it."

They reached for the eighth shot, their hands brushing briefly. The contact sent a jolt through Hawks, who nearly fumbled his glass. Halcyon giggled, the sound surprisingly light and girlish. He'd never heard her laugh like that before. Not even as Chickadee.

"Careful now," she teased, "Wouldn't want to spill a drop."

As they approached the final two shots, the tension between them was palpable. The bar around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them locked in this absurdly epic showdown over burnt popcorn. Heron, Kiwi, and Perplex were on the edge of their seats, their laughter dying down as they watched with bated breath.

With a final, simultaneous gulp, Hawks and Halcyon downed the last shot. The group erupted into cheers and applause, the victorious moment hanging in the air. Hawks, his composure thoroughly shattered, leaned back in his seat, a goofy smile spreading across his face.